#if the story direction goes where its three strikes your out and he drops her that'll be fine too

[20dimensionsoftangerine]

I hope Hallariel keeps going on her redemption arc in Junior Year

There is something so special about the fantasy that you could look a parent in the eye (twice! Fabian did this twice!) And tell them they're a bad parent and they... believe you.

They say, yes, I was. But I want to do better. I don't know how and it will be hard but I love you and want to change for you.

Something about Fabian seeing the flaws in his mom and being willing to help her grow not because he has to but because he wants to, even still.

[urfictional]

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 – 𝐤𝐚𝐳 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

summary: there's a new face in ketterdam and kaz will be forced to strike a deal with the devil in order to get what he desires

warnings: blood, blood, and again blood, mentions of torturing, did I mention blood? my bad writing

A/N: I'd like to say that this is my first time writing a fic but then I would be kind of lying because a while ago I started to write a Kaz Brekker fanfiction on Wattpad. BUT. this is my first time writing a short fic, so we'll see how it goes.

also, English is not my first language so bear with the mistakes (I'm sure that there are some)

It’s hard to earn a name for yourself in the Barrel. You essentially start from nothing and then slowly brick by brick you start to grow your empire. You spill sweat and blood to achieve the goal and from then it only takes so little to remain at the top. It’s simple. One just needs to show the power that they hold. And Y/N has power.

Kaz Brekker was wondering. Standing in a dark room with fancy furniture, his Crows, Inej and Jesper, behind him. He was wondering from where she came from. The girl, approximately his age. Just a few months ago, the Barrel practically swarmed with rumors about a girl that Ketterdam hadn’t seen yet. No one knows from where she came from, or who she is. If Kaz has to think, he even doesn’t know her name.

She has many names but none of them is her real one. At least Kaz thinks that the girl that is sitting in front of him couldn’t possibly be called the Executioner. On the other hand, who knows this is the Barrel. A perfect place for weird people.

“You surprise me Kaz Brekker.” Even her voice sounded mysterious. It was confident, powerful and Kaz caught himself thinking that he could listen to her voice till death finally takes him. “You came to my house, walk through my corridors and now your dirty boots are staining my Persian rug and the only thing that you tell me is that you want to strike a deal that would make us acquaintances.”

Kaz didn’t utter a word. He watched the girl and the girl watched him. Her feet were resting on her desk and she comfortably leaned into the chair. She smirked.

While the Y/H/C haired girl was staring at Kaz, Jesper let his eyes closely inspect the girl. In a weird way, she reminded him of Kaz. Perfectly tailored clothes, black dress shirt, and grey west. Dress pants and heeled boots on her feet that laid crossed at her ankles on the desk’s surface. Her Y/H/C hair made into a tight knot at the back of her head. The only thing missing was leather gloves and cane.

“People who hold power in the Barrel should have acquaintances who do the same.” Kaz would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous about this meeting. He has heard stories about this girl, stories that possibly are nasty rumors, yet you never know. This is the Barrel after all.

She let out an amused laugh.

“And you count yourself as one?” She raised her eyebrows, an amused smile present on her face. “An acquaintance who holds power in the Barrel?” Y/N waited for Kaz to say something, to defend his honor yet he stayed quiet. She smirked while standing up. “Congratulations, you just passed the first test.”

Y/N needed to know if Kaz Brekker really is the Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. She won’t let the boy know all her secrets and ways how she works if he isn’t half of what Ketterdam claims him to be.

“Though I have to ask.” She stopped millimeters away from him. Y/N could feel the ragged breath of his that made her furrow her eyebrows and tilt her head a little. She looked into his eyes and stepped one step away from him. “If you claim that people who hold power in the Barrel need to, say, familiarize with others. What about Pekka Rollins? Hmm?” She watched how Kaz visibly stiffened upon that name. She smirked. Y/N got what she wanted. “I hope you will pass the next test, for I would be glad to make you an acquaintance.” With that Y/N walked past the trio towards the door. “Follow me.”

From outside, the building seemed to look like any other building on this street. Yet when the group made the turns for what seemed like a thousand times, they realized that the exterior is just an illusion. The Crows followed the girl down the steps and judging by the fact that there were no windows, and the air was a tad humid, they were in a basement.

They walked down a corridor. Kaz noted that there were doors every few meters on the left side. It looked awfully like a prison down here. Y/N walked past one door but then stopped causing the group to halt. She walked back towards the doors she just passed and opened the latch in the door. A small window with bars allowed to see inside the room yet the group couldn’t see anything from the position where they were standing.

They could hear a chain rattling and groaning which forced Kaz to think that there was someone in there.

“Well, have you changed your mind?” Her tone was demanding. Kaz observed her side profile. Sharp eyes and clenched jaw, he wondered if this is how he looked when he demanded something and didn’t accept no for an answer. The group heard more chain rattling and louder groan that sounded awfully like no with a couple of colorful words that were no doubt directed towards the girl. Y/N smirked. “As you wish.”

She went to close the latch when she glanced at the group on her left. Then without closing it moved forward along the corridor. Y/N purposely left the window open, she wanted Kaz to see with what kind of devil he is making the deal.

While walking past the doors Kaz glanced inside and visibly gulped. A man in his late thirties was hanging by his hands from the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground. He was bleeding from, well, everywhere, and by the looks of it, he has been here for a long time. He was barely alive, and it seemed hasn’t eaten for weeks. Kaz wondered if behind all those doors were hanging men or even women.

“Do they even get food or water?” Inej was troubled by the scene that she saw behind the doors and couldn’t help but to be a tad concerned.

Y/N glanced behind her before turning to face the front again.

“When I remember, they do.” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. They turned a corner and continued to walk along another hallway. The girl turned to throw a smirk towards the Suli girl. “I am a tad forgetful; you know. Can’t always remember all those poor souls that need feeding.”

So, then there were more people down here. Kaz suddenly wondered how many of them were still alive and how many were just hanging dead.

The group reached the end of the corridor. They were met with a man who was undoubtedly guarding the doors. With one nod from the girl in front of them, the guard opened the doors and let them inside.

This room was bigger than the previous cell that they saw. The walls were lined with cabinets that contained things, starting from various kinds of weapons to bottles of different sizes and colorful liquids.

“How’s our guest feeling today?” The Crows turned to where Y/N was standing in front of a man who, much like the previous prisoner, was hanged by his hands from the ceiling. The only difference was that there were also chains on his feet and he was hovering above the ground. Kaz observed the room and noticed three men standing on the sides. More guards. “Did the acid did its work?”

The Y/H/C-haired girl walked towards the table on her left. She was slowly unrolling the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. After she was done Y/N picked up a bottle inspecting it.

“The man at the market said that it's pretty effective.” Only now Kaz noticed the burn marks on the prisoner’s body. One of the guards stepped forward.

“He didn’t utter a word.”

Y/N tsked while shaking her head in disappointment. She then turned to the hanging man.

“This is not how we work, darling, you know that.” The mock concern in the girl’s voice caused Kaz to shiver slightly. “Such a pretty face ruined for nothing. I can give you one more chance.”

The prisoner raised his head and looked at the girl in front of him. Y/N could easily live without the information that this man could give her but then it wouldn’t be interesting anymore. Any kind of information even the smallest one about the people of Ketterdam could turn out to be useful. You just need to find the right way, the right place and time.

“I am bound by an oath, I won’t tell you anything. Even if I’ll have-”

“-have to die, yeah, yeah don’t I know it.” Y/n interrupted the man by rolling her eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

The Crows braced themselves after what came next. The hanging man mustered all the strength that was in him and spit the blood that was in his mouth right into her face. The guards launched forwards, but Y/N raised her hand halting them in their steps.

Kaz watched how the girl was trying to calm her breathing the muscles of her back stiffened. He admired the control that this girl possessed. Not many people that Kaz knew would have such a perfect grip of themselves. Hell, even Kaz himself sometimes dropped the controlled behavior behind and acted a little reckless.

Y/N slowly turned around and the group of three could see the specks of blood on her face mixed with spit.

“Alright, if this is how you want to play. Let’s play.” She pulled out a cloth from her vest pocket and walked to her left where a small mirror was hanged on the wall.

When she was done cleaning her face, she walked back to stand in front of the prisoner. One of the guards walked beside her and handed something that reminded Kaz of a sheathed sword. Y/n took the handle and pulled out a long shiny sword. It was very long, it even was longer than Jesper’s arm. It looked heavy but she held it like it was light as a feather.

“I have always admired the old weapons.” She turned to face the Crows. “All those revolvers, pistols, and bombs, they are boring.” The girl extended her arm and pointed her sword at Kaz while smirking. “There is something about swords and weapons that have sharp and pointy things that excite me.” She glanced at the Suli girl on Kaz’s right. “Wouldn’t you agree with me?”

Inej couldn’t get anything past her lips, so she opted with just a nod.

Y/N lowered the sword and Kaz dared to breathe again. He didn’t even notice that he was holding his breath.

“There is nothing more exciting than feeling the sword digging in the flesh. Feeling the muscles breaking when you turn the sword-” She suddenly looked up at the group and offered a half-embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”

Then the smile disappeared, and she turned to walk closer to the hanged man.

“Let’s play a game. Heads or tails, Kaz Brekker?” Kaz looked up startled and watched how the girl turned to face him, any sign of the embarrassed smile long gone. Two steely eyes were staring into his soul waiting for his answer. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

Kaz knew that it was something to do with the way how the girl is going to kill the man. There was no point in trying to get away from that. The man is going to die anyway. With or without Kaz’s answer.

“Tails.” She smirked while turning to the hanged man. “This is your lucky day. You’ll be able to see me perfectly in the last seconds of your life.” Then she turned to face the Crows once more. “I have many names, yet only one of them is true. I am an Executioner.”

Kaz watched how she turned her head and raised her sword. With one swing sideways, the sword cut through the hanged man detaching the top half from the bottom separating him just above the waist. Kaz could hear Jesper cursing from his left and Inej taking in a sharp breath from his right. But Kaz did not let his eyes wander from the girl whose arm was still extended with the sword. The blood dripping from the weapon and the top half of the dead man.

“This part is my favorite.” Y/N lowered the sword and grasped the hilt in both hands, she supported the tip of the sword against the ground like a cane. Now the only thing missing is leather gloves. Jesper thought while watching the girl who yet again looked exactly like Kaz. “His brain hasn’t fully comprehended the pain and the fact that half of him is missing. Last seconds before he dies, he sees my face and wishes he had done otherwise.” Kaz couldn’t see her face, but he imagined a contented smile resting on her face. “The silent art. What could be more beautiful than this?”

Y/N turned around to face the Crows. One of the guards walked closer with the empty sheath. She cleaned the sword before taking the sheath and putting the sword in it. With the sheathed weapon in one hand, Y/N walked closer to the group of three. She stopped before Kaz and squinted her eyes while inspecting him. Satisfied with whatever she saw, the girl smirked.

“Congratulations. You managed to keep everything inside. So did your friends.” She looked from Inej to Jesper then back at Kaz with a cheeky smile. “Some people have the need to display their previous meals. I’m not a fan of those people.” She then pointed at the guards behind her. “Nor are they. Because, well, they are the ones that are cleaning everything.”

Kaz forced himself to not look at the hanging body behind the girl, not a second longer, otherwise, he too will have the need to display the meal he had earlier this day. He was surprised how Jesper managed to hold himself together. Kaz took a mental note to ask him that after they will be done here.

Soon they left the basement and followed the girl back upstairs. They arrived in the room they previously were in. Y/N walked to the cabinet on the left and placed the sheathed sword on a stand. Then she walked to the front of the desk and her hands crossed on her chest leaned against it.

“Well? You still want to make the deal?”

Kaz knew that there is a possibility that he will regret the decision but there was one thing that forced him to not think about this possibility. There was a reason she mentioned Pekka Rollins. And that reason was simple, she wanted him gone just as much as he. If that wouldn’t be the case, she wouldn’t have bothered with all this play. Therefore, Kaz firmly nodded his head forcing a smirk to appear on the girl’s face.

She stood straight and extended her hand, waiting for Kaz to shake it.

For a moment he hesitated, but then slowly extended his hand and felt her fingers wrap around his leather-clad hand.

And so, the devil made deal with the devil.

A/N: aight let me know what you think. ;))

[aomineavenue]

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: completed. | series masterlist

↩ at peace | dearest daddy

mia speaks!: 

okay, wow. So it took awhile for us to get here and I apologize for that but we’re finally done with Homesick, wew. It’s been a challenge but I’m so happy and grateful for all the positivity you guys have been sharing with me. Also, thank you so much for your patience. 

It’s been an emotional ride but we’re finally done. There may be a few short stories after this chapter but no promises. Hopefully I get the chance to though, I do want to be able to. But for now, if you guys have any requests for imagines/scenarios with this series, don’t be afraid to send them over!

Also, big thanks to @oii-sugasan​ and @sunshinesero​ for beta-reading this for me! I apologize if this chapter is any way lacking compared to the first nine chapters, it’s been awhile since I wrote anything so I hope this was a great way to end this series. 

I love you guys so much, I’m so glad to be (sorta) back. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Time was a funny and fickle thing. Sometimes there was never enough of it, and other times it stretched out endlessly. It had been seven months since your life had once again made drastic changes. It often surprised you how time flew by so fast.

Seven months since your two precious boys had been introduced to the man that they now call their father. And well, seven months since you had been reunited with the love of your life. Sure, it had ups and downs, it wasn’t bound to be perfect since the two of you were your own person. It was inevitable for such different personalities to clash, it didn’t help when there were two children present, one of them being as handful as their own father.

Atsumu had shown that he was a doting father, despite only being a part of their lives for less than a year, he had put his new family as his top priority, wanting to make up for lost time. He would instantly drop anything and everything, sometimes even volleyball when he could for times when his family needed him. Not that his new family had been a burden since then, his sons and of course you, have been nothing but loving and supportive. Showing up to games to cheer him on and the twins attending his training to either join or just watch their father and new favorite uncles.

It had been a rollercoaster ride since it was officially announced that Atsumu was off the market and that he actually had sons. Some fans were supportive, believing the news and claiming that both the young twins were striking replicas of the volleyball player. And of course, there were fans that were against it, raging how you were nothing more than a money-grabbing harlot and that you had probably lied to Atsumu about the twins being his.

They were quickly shut down, of course, by not just fans but various people close to the volleyball setter who defended you without you even asking for it. You weren’t going to lie, that particular month filled with venomous words thrown your direction stressed you out but it was mostly because of your motherly instincts, wanting to keep your sons away from such unnecessary drama. You and Atsumu had decided to ignore the majority of the vile comments but seeing you so emotionally exhausted had only fueled the already tiny flame in Atsumu. He was quick to announce that he would no longer tolerate any form of slander towards his family and would handle things legally if anyone were to step out of line.

And by the next few weeks, the hate simmered and the stress that had engulfed you and Atsumu in its grip had vanished. All that was left that made you both worry was Atsuhiro’s health.

Fortunately, Atsuhiro’s sickness didn’t grow worse as time passed by since his first transfusion. If anything, the boy was healthier and it was very much evident in his features. The healthy glow returned to his skin, he was smiling more and had shown his usual energetic-self like before he had fallen ill. Atsumu on the other hand, much to Atsuhiro’s dismay, had started becoming such an overprotective father. It took a lot of begging from Atsuhiko for their father to spend the day outside of the protective bubble of your apartment.

It took time and patience from everyone’s side to get this far, and for Atsumu, (and of course, you) he didn’t mind it one bit. He had grown more mature, despite his twin brother’s disagreements, he not only took care of himself more but he had become a role model to his sons.

Not only that, but as his relationship with his sons grew stronger, the love the two of you had for each other only seemed to intensify as well. Sure, the two of you had ups and downs back then in your friendship but it was as if time and distance hadn’t kept the two of you apart. If anything, it was as if it made your bond stronger. Two best friends, reuniting and finally expressing their true desires, it was easy for the two of you to fall into a comfortable routine.

“Where are the boys of the hour? I’ve been wanting to see how good Hiko looks in my jersey!”

Bokuto interrupts your thoughts for a brief second before you return your focus to your duties of cutting up the vegetables in the kitchen. You can’t help but chuckle at the sour expression that graces Atsumu’s expression as he fills a tray of refreshments on one of the island counters. “Don’t remind me, Bo-kun.”

“You’re just jealous that your sons didn’t want to wear your jersey," he teases, a playful grin on his lips as he lifts himself off of the ground by his hands to sit on the counter.

The scowl on Atsumu's face only deepens at the reminder, "Get off the counter, Bo-kun. Don't be rude. Why don't you actually start to help and give out these refreshments to the guests?"

You watch in amusement as the two exchange their usual banter around the kitchen of your home in Hyogo. It was decided a week ago after Atsuhiro's second transfusion was a success, that the twins would celebrate their birthday back at Hyogo instead of having the guests cramp up in your small apartment in Kanagawa.

It was also then decided by your sons what theme they would be having for their birthday. It was traditional for the twins to have their birthdays themed depending on their current interest. Lately, since the two were very fixated on volleyball due to their new favorite uncles and of course, their father, it was decided that they would be having a volleyball themed birthday where the guests were required to wear their favorite player's jersey.

For a minute, your new friend Bokuto had been rather excited upon hearing the idea.

"So show up with our own jerseys? Great!"

And as for Atsumu, he was excited at the prospect of seeing his own sons wearing his jersey. That is, until his sons destroyed such dreams.

"Are the two of you really sure?" you hear Atsumu's voice echoing from the twins' bedroom throughout the walls of the apartment as you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you as you ventured further into the comforts of your home. “Like really? Those are your choices?”

You grew curious as you slipped out of your shoes and let your hair loose from its tight bun, wincing slightly from your tugging. There was a tinge of whininess dripping from Atsumu’s voice that you couldn’t help but wonder what the three of them were talking about. It wasn’t unusual for Atsumu to be around when you had to work on days where the boys came home from school or when they didn’t have school.

At most times, when Atsumu didn't have training, he would be the one taking care of the boys instead of your mother or Osamu. Majority of his free time away from volleyball was spent with his sons, wanting to make up for the time he had lost. And there wasn't a day where the young twins wouldn't ask about their father and if he was going to visit. It was as if they were scared one of them would disappear, wanting to spend the entirety of their lives together.

"Maybe we can go with superheroes this year!" Atsumu's voice grew louder as you reached the door to the room where they occupied. Leaning against the door's frame, your eyes land on the back of Atsumu's head as he's seated on the carpeted floor facing the twins who were playing with their action figures. A small grin curling upon your lips at the sight of Atsumu’s slightly dishevelled bleached hair.

Atsuhiro, who seems to have the ability to sense your presence, looks up from his toys and in an instant, his eyes widen happily. He was about to greet you but you quickly pressed your index finger against your lips to signal the little boy not to announce your presence just yet, wanting to see Atsuhiko and Atsumu's interaction. The smart little boy that he is, nods and returns to his toys.

"But daddy," Atsuhiko protests, his focus still on the action figures in his hands, "We did superheroes last year! I wanna wear Uncle Bo's jersey!"

You fight the urge to burst out into a fit of giggles as soon as you catch a glimpse of Atsumu slumping his shoulders dejectedly. Now you understand as to why he had his moppy voice on. "But don't you want to wear daddy's jersey for your birthday?"

"But daddy," Atsuhiko lets out a sigh, looking up at his father with a look that meant the little boy wasn't up for any arguments on the matter, "Uncle Bo is the best! So I wanna wear his jersey!"

You could have sworn you heard Atsumu whine, suddenly wishing you had decided to film this from the start. "But it will make daddy really happy if you wear his jersey!"

Atsuhiko shakes his head as he continues to play with his action figures, "But I want Uncle Bo and I to match!"

Atsumu sighs in defeat before turning his attention over to Atsuhiro, looking hopeful. "What about you, Hiro? Would you wear daddy's jersey?"

"No, daddy. I wanna wear Kageyama-san's jersey," he nods with a proud smile, "Wanna be just like him! He's so good!"

"But daddy's just as good a setter as Tobio-kun!" Atsumu cries out, throwing his hands up in the air, "betrayed by my own children. 'Samu isn't going to let me live this down."

This time, you let your presence be known by finally releasing a bubble of laughter. Atsuhiko instantly drops his action figures and rushes over with a happy squeal. Atsumu pivots his body, looking up at you with such a pitiful gaze as he juts his lower lips out ot a pout, "I want new children."

Needless to say, Atsumu had been pouty ever since and has been dreading today due to the reason that every single one of his friends had found out about it. He had tried a handful of times to change their minds, unfortunately, the young twins won't budge.

“It’s not my fault your kids like me better than you,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest, “I am an ordinary ace after all!”

A scowl graces on Atsumu’s features which causes the other occupants in the room to chuckle in amusement. It wasn’t as if Atsumu didn’t like the idea of his sons becoming close to his teammates, but lately, it was getting harder for the setter to share. “Get your own children!”

“Ah, about that...” Bokuto trails off with a nervous chuckle which causes everyone to fall silent and look at him in curiosity, “I actually will be getting my own child soon, I think.”

“You think?” you ask with an arched brow, “You can’t just think you’re having a child, Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu interjects, “And aren’t you in love with that best friend of yours? What happened to never being with anyone else but her?”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively with a frown etched on his lips, “Well, I can’t exactly be with her when she just got married.”

“You are so getting your ear torn off by the management when this news gets out,” Atsumu snickers, which he earns a smack to his shoulder from you. “Ow!”

You narrow your gaze at your boyfriend, completely unamused with his behavior. “Don't be dramatic, I didn't hit you that hard!" Letting out a huff as you wipe your hands on the apron you were wearing, "You aren’t helping Bokuto, ‘Tsumu.”

His lips curl up to a cheeky grin at the sight of your expression. He leans forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, your cheeks growing warm from the public display of affection. His heart swells from your reaction to his gesture, murmuring teasingly, “Sorry, darling.”

“Please, don’t make me barf.” Osamu interrupts with his features scrunched up in distaste from the interaction between you and his brother.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his brother who returns the gesture with a shake of his head. His arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer to his side as he returns his attention over to his teammate, “Well, is the woman making you marry her?”

“Making you pay for child support?” Osamu quickly adds.

Atsumu quips with a chuckle, “Threatening to expose your sins?”

You interrupt the two with a glare towards them, “Stop ganging up on him!”

Bokuto lets out a laugh as he begins helping your mother set up the desserts onto one of the trays to bring outside to the guests, “Nothing like that, she’s pretty chill and we’ve gotten pretty close lately. So we’re going to co-parent.”

“That’s very mature of you, Bokuto-kun.” your mother compliments him with a smile before patting his back.

He feels his cheeks grow warm from the compliment, his heart swelling with pride. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up falling for her anyway,” Osamu teases with a smirk playing on his lips, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

He shakes his head at the idea as his brows knit together, “Jess and I won’t fall in love.”

“Jess?” Atsumu blinks at the familiar name before his eyes widens at the realization, releasing his grip from your waist, “Jess, that journalist that you showed around town when she first visited Japan?”

Bokuto nods with a smile gracing his features, “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love her in your own way through your child,” you suggest with a shrug of your shoulders as you began untying the apron you were wearing upon realizing what time it was.

Atsumu shakes his head and responds before Bokuto could utter a single word, “No, no. That’s impossible. Bo-kun’s heart belongs to his best friend.”

“Stop teasing him,” you scold your boyfriend with a shake of your head, handing over the apron you successfully took off, “make yourself useful and help out here in the kitchen,"

"Bu—"

Cutting him off with a stern glare as you lift a tray from one of the kitchen counters and handing it over to Bokuto, a small smile gracing your lips, "Don't mind him, Bo. Can you bring these to the backyard and help out if anyone else needs help? I think Reiji needs a hand setting up the bouncy castle,"

Retrieving the tray from your hands, his eyes lighting up from the excitement, "bouncy castle, you say?"

"That's for the kids, Bo-kun." Atsumu scoffs but soon lets his lips form into a pout when he had been ignored, turning his attention over to you once Bokuto slips out of the kitchen, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on the boys to see if they're ready for their big entrance," you muse with an amused grin. Of course, you knew what your sons had prepared for the big entrance that they insisted. Atsumu had pestered both you and the young twins since he had heard of their plan but as your sons refused to budge, you had feigned clueless, claiming that your sons had opted it to be a surprise.

Little did Atsumu know that you had helped your sons pull off such an idea.

"I don't get why they have to have a big entrance," he sighs, brows furrowing as he racks through his thoughts on what the surprise could be. It didn't help that he was both curious and excited at what his sons might pull off.

Osamu lets out a snort, rolling his eyes at his twin brother as a smirk curls upon his lips, "What do you mean? They're your kids."

"What does that even mean?" Atsumu scowls as he slips on the apron you had handed over, walking over to where your mother was situated to take over what you were doing.

You shake your head at the two bickering older twins and shoot a look of sympathy towards your mother that was going to be left with them in the kitchen before she waves you off. Your heart was swelling from happiness at how natural everything felt, despite the silly banter thrown around. It was home.

As you step into your childhood living room, you're hit with a nostalgic wave from the memories surrounding the whole area. Though it may be a mixture of good and bad memories, since you had come to terms that you were no longer running away from your past, you only feel comfort. You made your way through your childhood home over to the bedroom that had been renovated to the liking of your twin boys.

The mere thought of your boys growing to love the place where you had grown up yourself was enough to bring a smile to your face. You press your knuckles against the wooden door to signal your presence by knocking on it repeatedly, “Are you two ready?” you ask, your voice probably muffled on the other side. Your fingers wrap around the handle of the door and as you were about to twist and push it open, the door instantly snaps back shut with a loud thud. “Can’t-”

“No, mommy!” Atsuhiko screeched causing you to blink from both the surprised force and tone. Pressing your palms and ear against the door to hear what the commotion was all about, you frown upon hearing only their shuffling feet, “What are you two doing? Guests have arrived and your party will be starting soon,”

“We’re almost ready, mommy!” Atsuhiro assures you from the other side.

A chuckle escapes your lips at their antics as you decide to not interfere any further, “Alright you two, just be sure to be out in a few. You don’t want your daddy to come fetch you. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Okay mommy!” you heard Atsuhiko yell out, their excited muffled voices purely obvious from the other side that you couldn’t help but smile.

On the other hand, back in the kitchen, the father of your twins was having his own little dilemma back in the kitchen. It wasn’t as if he was uncomfortable being around your mother, but it was more like he felt he was still lacking.

Despite him knowing that your mother and you hadn’t had the greatest relationship when your father passed away, he still wanted to be someone your mother would approve of. He didn’t know whether your mother knew the whole story of the relationship between the two of you but being away from you and your sons during most of their childhood was enough to make him worry. The mere idea of his sons looking up to him sent his heart soaring, but of course, he also wanted your mother to feel secure enough for him to be together with you and the twins.

“I’ll bring out these sliced up fruits outside,” Osamu cuts the clear tension surrounding the kitchen. Atsumu resists the urge to glare at his twin for leaving him behind with your mother, knowing full well that his brother knows his current insecurities. A small smirk graces Osamu’s features but not the obvious one that would make your mother notice.

Atsumu watches his twin slip out of the kitchen with a tray full of food for the guests before flickering his gaze over to your mother situated at the other side of the room, making final touches to the cupcakes. “Is there anything else that I can do?”

Without looking up, a smile etches on your mother’s face. “No, it’s fine. We’re just about done with everything.”

“It looks good,” he states with a nod of his head, not really knowing what to say.

Placing the piping bag to the side, your mother lifts her head up to look towards the direction of Atsumu and wipes her hands on the apron she’s currently wearing, “You know you can always start calling me mom.”

The mere sentence made Atsumu want to leap in excitement, but at the same time he was nervous, a sudden fear of messing things up engulfing him. “I don’t want to overste-”

“Oh please,” your mother waves her hand in the air with a light chuckle, “I’ve known you since you were eight. We’re practically family. So you might as well call me mom.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth tug up to a wide smile, “Alright, mom.”

“I’m really happy that the two of you decided to work things out,” your mother spoke with a smile as she delicately places the cupcakes on the cupcake stand.”

His feet shuffled across the room to help your mother stack the cupcakes onto the stand, “We had to for the kids anyway.”

Your mother hums in thought for a second before responding, “I think the kids were just the push the two of you needed. If anything, I’ve always thought the two of you would always end up together since the two of you always leaned on each other for anything.”

He nods his head slowly, leaning against the counter as he feels his heart swell with happiness. “I guess you’re right, mom. I did lean on her majority of the time when we were growing up. I guess I still am now. I just wish I could make her happy.”

“Don’t worry, you do. Before she left Hyogo, I know for a fact that she was miserable in this house after her dad had passed. You were the only one giving her a reason to move forward,” your mother spoke, sadness dripping from her voice.

A sigh escapes Atsumu’s lips as his features scrunch up to something that resembles pain. “I was also the reason why she left. I may be even the biggest reason why she left.”

Your mother extends an arm out and places a hand on Atsumu’s arm, trying her best to give assurance and comfort, “You weren’t the only reason behind that. I don’t know if she’s told you, but I had neglected her. I’m not proud of it and apologies are probably never enough for forgiveness. I was barely a mother when my husband had passed. I was almost an empty shell and instead of being a moth-”

“Mom,” Atsumu cuts her off and grabs hold of her hand in his own, “Don’t blame yourself. She loves you very much. It’s all in the past. We’ll be able to move forward, we already are.”

The two were interrupted with Osamu’s arrival, knocking by the kitchen’s door frame to announce his return. A smile etched on his lips at the scene before him, “Hey, Y/N wants everyone in the living room. Apparently the boys are ready to make their big entrance.”

Your mother excuses herself as soon as she removes the apron tied around her, excitement clearly evident in her features. Atsumu knew it well, despite the relationship that you had been slowly rebuilding with your mother, she was just as excited as him to have the twins into her life. She has equally doted on, if not more, on the twins ever since and well, Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way.

Atsumu knew for a fact that you adored the time you’ve been sharing with your mother. As long as you were happy, nothing else mattered.

Osamu gives him a pat on the back, arching a brow in curiosity as they make their way out of the kitchen, “Everything alright?”

Atsumu gives him a nod, giving him the largest grin that he could muster. “Yeah, definitely.”

“You look disgusting,” Osamu jokes, pretending to shudder which causes Atsumu to give him a shove as they step into the living room where most of the guests have already gathered.

“Hey ‘tsumu!” Bokuto calls out from next to you as soon as Atsumu comes into view. “Hurry up! I’m excited to see Hiko in my jersey!”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he approaches, grumbling to himself. As soon as he reaches your side, he places a quick kiss to your temple before snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Yeah, yeah. You have to stop rubbing it in. We get it.”

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as you lean yourself into Atsumu’s warmth, “Oh come on now you two, focus on the big entrance will you?”

Bokuto just snickers from the side while Atsumu sends him a glare. If you were to describe the two of them, they were practically acting like petty children but you know those two will eventually switch attitudes as soon as your twins step out to make their entrance.

You flicker your gaze over to Osamu who was situated a few steps ahead from your little group, trying his best to act natural with his phone up. The two of you had discussed prior to the party that he would be the one to film the whole thing going on. Your little boys had practically begged their uncle to film their big entrance but mostly, what you hoped Osamu to capture was Atsumu’s reaction.

A part of you expects that he would be a grinning mess at the sight of his kids but also, you’re also hoping he’d be speechless from all the teasing his kids put him through of having to wear someone else’s jersey.

“What’s taking them so long?” Atsumu asks, tilting his head slightly hoping to meet your eyes as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

As you were about to answer him, the familiar voices of your two boys echo throughout the room from the top of the stairs. You didn’t even have to look to know about their surprise since you know very well of what they had planned. Well, obviously, you had helped them out with picking up the jerseys that they were going to wear.

However, you had wanted to capture Atsumu’s reaction to your boys with your own two eyes instead of just watching it from a video. And honestly speaking, you didn’t think you’d fall in love with this man any more than you already do but here you are.

Just the mere sight of his features scrunching up to a look of awe was enough for your heart to swell. It looked as if he was close to tears as watches the twins descend the stairs with the prodest smiles they could muster.

You pry yourself away from his side as soon as the twins approach Atsumu, knowing full well what was going to happen as they had practiced what they were going to say. Flickering your gaze over to Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro, seeing them in Atsumu’s high school volleyball jersey made your own eyes water despite the fact that you were the ones who had gotten them the uniform a week ago.

“Wh-What are you guys wearing?” Atsumu almost chokes out his words, “What happened to the jerseys that we bought that you said you were going to wear?”

Atsuhiko throws his arms out in the air, smiling widely. “We changed daddy!”

“We wanna wear your jersey daddy,” Atushiro nods his head enthusiastically, lifting his hand up to grip onto Atsumu’s shirt.

Atsuhiko wraps his arms around Atsumu’s waist, “‘cause you’re our favorite volleyball player daddy!”

The scene itself was enough for everyone to watch in awe, a few of the guests that were invited had their own phones up to capture the moment with smiles on their faces, the others were almost practically in tears themselves, and well there was also Bokuto by the side with his pouty self at the realization that neither of his nephews were wearing his jersey like he thought they would. Atsumu on the other hand, had eventually dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around his two boys, burying his face in between them as he let out his own tears stream down his face from the overwhelming joy that coursed through him.

Yes, this is your family.

This is your home.

You stare out the window from the kitchen of your childhood home, a smile on your face at the beautiful afternoon of your backyard full with people you adore and have missed so much. 

The party was still in full swing despite the sun about to set, the laughter from the guests and a few children present rang in the air. Happiness had engulfed your heart and honestly, you had trouble believing it yourself but here you were. 

You wouldn’t trade this for anything. 

An arm snakes around your waist from behind and you would have been startled if you hadn’t felt Atsumu’s presence a minute ago. Despite not having seen each other in years, everything about him was still familiar. Sure, there were a few things about him that you didn’t know but that didn’t mean that he still wasn’t your Atsumu that you’ve grown to love. 

“Thank you,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose into your hair, a smile playing on his lips. 

You place your hands atop of his and lean yourself back into his warmth, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?” 

“For everything,” he lets out a sigh, causing a shiver to run down your spine from the heat radiating from his breath close to your ear, “For giving me two amazing boys and for existing yourself.” 

Pivoting your body around so that you were facing Atsumu, your hands settling on his chest as you look up at him with your lips curling up to an assuring smile, “Thank you.” 

“And what for?” Atsumu questions, matching your own smile with his own as his hands cup your face. He lowers his head slowly, nudging your nose with his own as the pads of his thumbs brush delicately against your skin. 

Heat spreads across your cheeks at his gestures, feeling shy yourself but despite that, the majority of what you felt was only comfort in being in his arms. “For loving me as much as I love you.” 

He hums in response, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “No, I probably do love you more. More than you can imagine.” 

Before you could respond, he places his lips back firmly on yours and your eyelids flutter shut as if on instinct. The hands of yours that were resting on his chest eventually found their way around his torso to pull him close. Tilting your head to the side, the kiss itself deepens as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

It just felt so natural being with him.

Before the kiss could grow more heated however, a loud yell from outside had interrupted the both of you causing you to pull away much to both of your dismay. Your heads turn towards the direction of the commotion, the bouncy castle coming into view.

Or rather, the depleting bouncy castle with Bokuto and Hinata coming out hastily in laughter. 

You shake your head at the scene, a bubble of laughter leaving your lips before turning your head back over to look at the man before you. Just when you had decided to pull back and return to your duties of being a mother, he wraps his arms back around your waist to pull you back against him. Another laugh escapes your lips as you playfully slap his chest, “What now? We have a party going on, we have to entertain our gue-” 

“Move in with me,” he interrupts, his features showing nothing but seriousness. 

You meet his sincere gaze with your own and your heart makes a leap out of joy. There was only one answer you could possibly give. 

“Yes.”

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 03

(Masterpost)(Previous Episode) 

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes!

 Wei Wuxian demonstrates the purple nurple technique of the Jiang Clan

Should’ve Used Trivago

The Jiang Clan’s reservation got cancelled while they were on the road, so they are going to wander around this small inn for hours being fussed about it, rather than trying another inn. Yes they say the other inns are all full but…so is this one, now. 

The Jin Clan sends an advance party to fancy up the inn for them.

Fuckboi Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian decides to use his considerable powers of prettiness to get them a room.  He drops some poetry on Mianmian and brazenly flirts with her before shifting to properly introducing himself and asking for a room. 

This actually works.

...until her boss shows up.

(Much much more after the cut!)

Worst Person // Best Jin

Jin ZIxuan is an ass and a snob. 

I guess we have to give him credit for having a beautiful sidekick and never hitting on her, given that his dad is a rapist and one of his half-brothers is (reputedly) a sex pest and the other half brother is (definitely) an incest perp. But I feel like it doesn’t take much to be the best Jin of his or his father’s generation.

The Jin folks are snobs and talk about how great their fancy and expensive stuff is. It’s an interesting contrast with true connoisseur Nie Huaisang, who loves everything that is fine and beautiful and can quote stacks of poetry off the top of his head, but is not even a little bit of a snob. 

This Tea Smells Like Farts

Ok, let’s talk about generation names in the Jin clan. Ru is the name for Jin Ling’s generation, hence his courtesy name Rulan. The name for the current generation is apparently Zi (子), because both Zixuan and his jerk cousin Zixun have that as their name.  Sect Leader Jin Guangshan would seem to be using the generation name Guang, but then names his son Jin Guangyao so…the whole system breaks down. 

Anyway, my point here is that even considering generation names, if I had a baby and named it Zixuan, and my sister-in-law promptly had a baby and named it Zixun, I would slap her. 

Find you a lover who does not make you feel like this 

Jin Zixuan is mildly intrigued by his betrothed, and expresses it by being rude to her in front of Wei Wuxian, starting a chain of events that will culminate with Wen Ning’s fist going all the way through Jin Zixuan’s chest.

Side Note: Look at these young Jiang Brothers and their casual shoulder hugs. Sigh.

Wei Wuxian’s Combat PlayBook

When Wei Wuxian wants to throw down, he starts with smack talk, moves along to boundary crossing, then to direct threats, and then brings out a weapon if he hasn’t won already. 

Here he starts shit with Jin Zixuan by complaining at him for taking up too much space and having too many sycophants.  Then he goes for the unwelcome shoulder touch. 

Having been sufficiently provocative to get someone to draw a sword and threaten him with physical violence, he shifts to formal verbal sparring. 

This gets the other guy to back down, because even at this age no-one actually wants to tangle with Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian gets to claim the moral advantage, although he still doesn’t get to keep his hotel room. 

Actually Not A Fan of My Sister’s Betrothal

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli have the first of many, many moments of heterosexual ineptitude together. Wei Wuxian quickly rescues them.

Hi, I’m Young Master Cockblock.

Neither of the boys understands what Yanli sees in Zixuan and neither do I, at this juncture. He does improve later after multiple beatings from Wei Wuxian.

This Is The Day Your Life Will Surely Change

Yanli’s encounter in the Inn is the first step toward the inexorable end of the three of them as a unit, although it’s still a long ways off. They are all growing up and she and Wei Wuxian are both going to fall in love at summer camp, like in a 1980s teen movie but without the virginity betting (presumably). 

Meanwhile poor Jiang Cheng is going to be swept along just trying to keep up with events, which becomes the story of his life for the next two decades.

Welcome to Transylvania

We meet Wen Ruohan. He is boring and he sucks. Also I’m summarizing the Transylvania parts out of order because they break up the rhythm of the story. And are boring and suck.

We meet Xue Yang. He seems nice.

Wen Ruohan’s living room is like a shitty nightclub where everyone is too drunk to dance except Xue Yang.

Dee Jay: Undead undead undead, Bela Lugosi’s dead

[OP can’t get a video to embed in this post with looping enabled, so the alternate version of this joke has its own post right here. That will teach OP to get fancy.]

Anyhoo

We meet Wen Qing. She is the bestest most wonderful girl in the world but this isn’t actually when we find that out. 

Right now we just find out that she is absurdly pretty, that she loves her brother deeply, and that she is helping Wen Ruohan with his “take over the world by murdering cultivators” project. OKAY, PROBLEMATIC, BUT SHE IS THE BESTEST GIRL OKAY? 

Gatekeeping

The Jiang Clan don’t get another inn but they do manage to change into immaculate white robes while they’re out on the street, so - nice work, Jiang Clan. Be free!

They get stuck outside the gate because they don’t know that the secret to getting into Cloud Recesses is to set the gate guard on fire. 

Walking Thirst Trap Hanguang-Jun

Lan Wangji shows up and everyone except Yanli, who is already in love with Sir Golden Pants, makes thirst faces at him. Including Jiang Cheng tho he will never admit it. One girl in the background is actually biting her knuckle. 

Note: Lan Wangji knows exactly how fine he is. Look at his fucking hairstyle. 

He is sixteen years old. The only person in the entire cultivation world with fancier hair is Nie Mingjue, and that’s because he indulges his dìdi’s braiding hobby. 

Wei Wuxian loudly stage whispers that LWJ is their key to getting in and LWJ is is like, not fucking likely, person I didn’t glance at yet. 

But then Wei Wuxian says a smart cultivator thing about the puppet dude, and Lan Wangji turns around and has the first of many long mutual staring sessions with this boy he totally isn’t going to like at all.

Jiang Cheng has a bad feeling about the future: a 2-frame gif

Unrelated gardening note: the red-crack puppet is more commonly grown in Gusu and Dafan, while the black-line puppet is native to Yiling

I Must Arrange a Date with this Uninteresting Boy

The rest of the evening is a series of tests that Lan Wangji puts Wei Wuxian through. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know this and Lan Wangji probably doesn’t exactly know it either. 

First he sends WWX back to town to get the invitation. Yes, go get it. Not your entourage; YOU, talky person who thinks he can manipulate me and is smart and looks...intriguing. Go find it and come back. 

When Wei Wuxian complains, Lan Wangji silences him, which is literally the most boss move he could have used on smooth talking Wei Wuxian. 

You tried, Fuckboi.

Would you like to try some more because I think I would like you to try some more

Jiang Cheng is the Better Baby Brother

Sorry, he just is. Wei Wuxian is all about being taken care of and adoring Yanli without actually doing much for her. Jiang Cheng is the one who thinks about her feelings and giving her what she needs, even to the point of arranging that wedding rehearsal dinner so she can be with her favorite brother again -- the favorite who isn’t him, much as she also loves him. 

Date Test 1: Can You Get In.

Once Wei Wuxian is definitely gone, Lan Wangji shows up again and collects the entire retinue, guaranteeing that Wei Wuxian will be stranded outside the gate when he gets back.  LWJ doesn’t wait by the gate; he goes and waits up on the roof instead of going to bed or whatever else he’s supposed to be doing. Because he already knows the route Wei Wuxian will be taking. 

Wei Wuxian passes the “get in through the wards” test with no problem besides a minor headache and bent fingers. 

Is that Xiao Zhan’s hand or did they use a double-jointed hand model?

Date Test 2: Fight Me (Lan Wangji’s Combat Playbook)

As soon as Wei Wuxian shows up on the roof, Lan Wangji picks a fight with him. 

LWJ fights all the time; he’s perfectly comfortable when he’s fighting and it’s a good venue for him to express himself. His style is graceful and aggressive. 

Attack attack attack strike a pose, vogue, you know it.  

He starts by going all in on swordplay, but that doesn’t gain him the advantage; Wei Wuxian fends him off without ever drawing his sword. Which is probably the hottest thing that has ever happened to Lan Wangji in his young life.

Do you like me better when I’m horizontal? 

Next Lan Wangji deploys the pettiness by breaking WWX’s wine. Then when Wei Wuxian starts insulting him he upgrades to next level pettiness by dropping another silence spell, this time with the added bonus of preventing WWX from drinking. 

Wei Wuxian’s Combat Playbook, Redux

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian is running his own fight routine, starting with a charm attack, which doesn’t work at all. 

Are you admiring the moon? 

He keeps trying to de-escalate for the first phase of their fight, until they reach a pause and he reflects that Lan Wangji has real skills. As soon as he makes that determination he goes on the offensive - with words. 

He very formally says he’s too busy to continue fighting, and turns away, which is a pretty solid roast when you say it to someone who’s been trying really hard to kick your ass. Then he continues defending easily until Lan Wangji uses the wine against him. 

At this point the gloves come off, with Lan Wangji lecturing Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian making ad hominem attacks, Lan Wangji forcibly shutting him up... 

...and then throwing him on the floor in front of Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen. 

Sincere Grief for the Death of our Colleague

Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen feel really bad for their disciple who has been horribly turned into an undead creature. Ha ha j/k

Date Test 3: Face the Authorities

Lan Wangji gets to pick Wei Wuxian’s punishment.  This probably won’t awaken anything in him. 

Surprise surprise, Wei Wuxian actually passes the Authority test with flying colors. Lan Qiren doesn’t like him, but listens respectfully to his thoughts about the undead cultivator. And Lan Xichen clearly does like him.

When Wei Wuxian learns that Lan Wangji was nice to his sister, his entire demeanor changes, to such an enormous degree that Lan Wangji starts to run away.

He’s not going to let this boy (who has passed all the tests oh no he passed all the tests) make out with him in front of his family like he is obviously planning. 

But once again, Wei Wuxian’s cultivation knowledge captures Lan Wangji’s attention and breaks through his reserve. 

This Hardy Boys moment is the beginning of their cultivation partnership.

Lan Wangji is brave but is extremely constrained: by the authorities in his life and by his own rigid reserve. Wei Wuxian is brave and is also free. His companionship gives Lan Wangji an opportunity to engage with a much broader range of the things that interest him than he’s ever had before. 

After Wei Wuxian has been sent to bed, Lan Wangji stands outside and -- just as WWX had suggested at the beginning of their date/fight -- admires the moon, with an expression that’s anything but upset. 

Sure, sex is cool (probably), but have you ever analyzed a walking corpse with a beautiful boy in the moonlight?

If you’ve got your true honey Life can be pretty funny If you've got money, money to burn Rooty toot toot for the moon It's the biggest star I've ever seen

The Fine-as-Hell Brothers

Alone together, Lans Xichen and Wangji talk over the various things on their minds. 

Xichen: What the fuck is up with you? ...Rooftop fights and dropping spells on boys?

Wangji: You and uncle were ignoring me so I was making my own fun

Xichen: Yeah, we are dealing with this zombie situation; shit’s going to hit the fan

Wangji: what are you going to do about it?

Xichen: fuck-all

Wangji: Well, you can rely on me

Xichen: I totally do. So how about you get to know this Wei kid, he seems like a fun ride.

Wangji: *death glare*

Xichen: You know, since Dad died you’ve become even more uptight. I wonder if I’ve been too strict with you?

Wangji: Um, you think? 3000 fucking rules, dude. Fortunately I’m not going to go off the rails and fall in love with my polar opposite and cause havoc in the cultivation world or anything like that.

Xichen: good, me neither

Outtro

Writing prompt: Lan Xichen’s secret nightly letter to his Mom’s memory or spirit (your choice), in which he confides in her about his day. May be written in flute solo form. 

(As always if you use this prompt feel free to post a link to your fic in comments!)

Soundtrack: 1. This Is The Day by The The  2.  Bela Lugosi’s Dead by Bauhaus 3. Rooty Toot Toot for the Moon, Greg Brown version 4. Madonna, Vogue

Bonus: FineAsHell-Jun

Episode 04 Restless Rewatch coming soon!

[levis-hazelnut]

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): I don’t think there are any in this chapter. But, please do tell me if there are any.

Taglist (closed!): @castellandiangelo

Status: completed!

part 2 > part 3 > part 4

series masterlist

With every step he took, I slowly felt the tension rise and awkwardly stood there, slurping on my iced drink. "Eren, you know Levi. And, these two are Isabel and Farlan," I announced and gestured to introduce themselves. "Hi, Eren!" the hyper girl smiled. "Nice to meet you," the more composed, blonde male replied. As those three spoke, I stood opposite Levi. "Looks like we ended up going bowling after all," I smiled, easing the tension. "Is your argument with Eren over?" "I guess, yeah... Anyway, it's my turn now. What lane are you on?" "We're a few lanes apart. Make sure you don't cry if you miss me too much, darlin'."

I playfully rolled my eyes and said a small 'bye' to all of them as they went to play as well. I approached Eren to see him smiling, which made me frown. "Why are you smiling?" "Because those two people are nice. Now, I get why you're so comfortable with them." "Does that mean you don't have any problems now?" "No. Isabel and Farlan weren't made up, correct?" he asked and I nodded. "So, I don't care if you hang out with them because there isn't anything fishy about them like there is about Levi." "Tch. Fine. I don't want to argue again and I understand what you're saying, so let's carry on. We still have a few more turns." Now, it was me who was throwing a ball and Eren who slurped the slushie, making his tongue blue, which he was yet to find out. I squealed when I knocked down all ten of the pins and did a little victory dance, no matter how embarrassing it was. I looked at Eren to get his praise; I got a grin and messy hair since he decided to ruffle it. An inaudible huff left my lips as I fixed my hair, using my phone's black screen. "... I'm getting kind of hungry," I stated as I stood behind the brunette, watching the bowling ball roll towards the pins. "Let's finish this game then go and eat. What are you feeling?" "Hmm... I don't mind. You choose." "I don't mind either." "I don't understand how we've made any decisions together. We’re so indecisive" I joked and I heard a small puff of air leave his nose as he smiled. "Anyway, let's go somewhere close by." I picked up my phone and began to look for food places near us. "(Y/N), it's your turn." "Okay. Here, look for a place to eat." I shoved my phone into his hands and picked up a ball, getting ready to throw it. "Hi, darlin'," a voice whispered, very close to my ear which made me jump and accidentally drop the ball, with a bang, and it decided to make its journey down the lane. "Levi!" I pouted. "Don't do that, you prick, you ruined my chances of getting a strike. What are you even doing here?" "I'm getting drinks, and to do that, I have to go past here. Also, you might want to look at how many pins are left,” he told me, so I looked towards where he was motioning and a grin planted on my lips. I got another strike! "Bye." "I still hate you for scaring me." "I know you don't," he smirked and walked away. "Hey, are you up for some pizza?" Eren questioned, causing Levi's smirk to dissipate in my mind and I faced him, strolling towards him and sipping on the beverage that he held. "Yeah, sure. It's your last turn, by the way," I told him, taking the drink and my phone from his hands. "Oh, okay. Aw, you have so many more points than me." "Do you know why?" "Because you're/I'm amazing," we both said at the same time, causing a laugh to erupt from my mouth before a smirk settled onto my lips. Eren was able to knock down nine which he cursed at. One pin was always almost impossible to hit. "Good luck~" I sang teasingly. Soon, nothing was in his hold as we both watched the ball roll on the floor, making its way in the correct direction towards the last pin. The ball brushed it. It wobbled. And it slowly fell. I playfully punched his bicep with a smile. "Well done." "Thanks." "I'm going to go say bye to them." He nodded and followed me towards the trio. Isabel was the first to spot us and she grinned and waved. I love her energy; she's somehow always able to be enthusiastic, I seriously wonder how. "Hey, we're going to go." "Aw, okay. Hope you had fun with your boyfriend." "Uh, no, he's not my boyfriend. He's my friend." "But why does he have his arm around you?" I didn't even realise since he does that most of the time, it became a norm to me. "... Don't know. It's just a thing he does." "Her shoulders are the right height for me to rest my arm on," Eren spoke. "Wow, so you're just using me as an armrest?" "Yeah." I gave his chest a light push and he chuckled quietly, coming back to my side. "Anyway, I'll see you guys next week." "Bye, (Y/N)! Bye, Eren!" "Bye," the male beside me smiled. "See you later," Farlan said. "And, I'll see your annoying ass on Monday, Ackerman." "The same goes to you, darlin'." "Are you going to wear that same unicorn shirt?" I smirked as his glare burned into my very soul. "Don't bring that up again." Eren and I left with a wave and his arm came back on my shoulders. "... Why does he call you darling?" "Eren, don't. I'm not in the mood to talk about anything negative. I just want to enjoy this day without any conflict." "Fine." ~/~ "Nope." "Aw, (Y/N), please," Hanji begged as I ignored her and stepped into my room, closing the door behind me and locking it so she can't come in. "It was a party you planned so don't bring me into this. You clean up after your guests." "Why're you being so mean? You'd normally help me out." "Yeah, I'm just not in the mood today. I thought we already established that if it's your guests then you clean up. I wasn't even home so don't drag me into this." I heard a sigh of defeat from Hanji and some footsteps padding away from my room. Finally, I could just rest without interacting with humans. Yeah, I had fun with Eren today, but ever since I walked into my university in the morning, I wanted to be home. Once I changed into my pyjamas, I turned off the lights and nestled under the covers, staring at the ceiling for a while before getting interrupted by my phone since someone decided to call me. "Hello?" "Hey, (Y/N)~" Jean’s voice sounded. "Idiot," I whispered to myself. "Are you drunk?" "Yes... But not that much. I'm not going to have a mad hangover or forget everything once I wake up." "Okay. So, why did you call me?" "I wanted to hear your voice," he muttered. "Also, we only spoke at lunch today. That's not enough time to talk." "Are you at home?" "Yeah, I took the bus." "What do you want to talk about, then?" "I don't know. Even if you don't talk, it's fine. I just want your company..." he mumbled. "I missed you over the month I was gone, you know." "Mhm. I missed you, too." "And I miss having you near me all the time like I did when we were dating. Do you miss it as well?" "... You still have me and you aren't going to lose me." "Do you miss it?" he repeated. "I don't know what you want me to say, Jean." "I want you to say the truth." "... No, I don't," I admitted. "But that's only because I can still talk to you and act normal around you. The only thing that's different from our relationship is that we don't give each other affection. I mean, you still flirt with me, but I know you only do it as a joke." "Thank you for being honest with me, (Y/N)," he murmured, giving me a hint that he was falling asleep. "Jean, I think you should sleep. It's late," I told him in a quiet voice and I heard him hum. "Yeah, okay. Night, (Y/N)." "Goodnight, Jean." And with that, I hung up, letting out a huff. Starting to feel bad, I called Hanji (since I wasn't bothered to get out of bed) and she answered five seconds later. "Hey, Hanji, do you still need help?" "It's fine. I'm nearly done," she spoke in a hushed voice, which is something I rarely hear. "Are you sure?" "I mean, it would be helpful, but I'm guessing you're already in bed." "Yeah, well, now I'm standing up. I'll come and help you." "Thank you." "You can cut the phone now, I'm right next to you," I smiled and she softly laughed. We both did the last few things like brooming, which I did, as she put dishes in the dishwasher. Few words were exchanged but we were both tired so it was understandable. I wiped down any surfaces and put things back in their places, like cushions or any kind of furniture. "Hanji, did you see how much Jean drank?" "Not much. He was a bit tipsy but I'm sure he got home fine. Why?" "He called me, sounding drunk but he said he didn't drink that much. And then, he started to tell me that he misses our relationship before asking me if I did." "Did you say yeah?" "No. He wanted the truth so I wasn't going to lie. I doubt he heard what I said, though, because he sounded like he was going to knock out." "... I think he still has feelings for you. He hasn't dated anyone else and he persistently flirts with you. Maybe he wasn't happy with the breakup, but decided to go along with it to make you happy." "I was thinking that as well. I don't want him to stop himself from moving on but I don't know what to do." "Talk to him about it. Most things are solved by words." "But what do I say? 'Get over me and go date some bitch'?" "Along the lines of that. Just not rudely and don't call a girl 'some bitch'." "Anyway, are you done? I'm going to go to bed now." "Yeah, go. Thanks for helping me." "No problem." I walked inside my room, quietly closing the door and plopping down onto my bed, once again snuggling under my covers and eventually falling into a deep sleep. ~/~ "I'm so glad we get to go out since we barely hang out. I only see you around but we never have time to speak," the strawberry-blonde female piped beside me and I smiled at her, thinking the same. "I know. How's everything going for you?" "Great. Though, I have a project to work on. Thankfully, they're giving us two weeks to do it. What about you?" "Nothing important. Just going to lectures as usual." "... I've been wanting to ask for a while now... You know that guy, Levi, you've been hanging out with...?" "Go on." "I was wondering if he was single." I nodded slowly, forcing a smile onto my lips as we strolled around, going no place in particular. "Yeah, he is." Oh, Petra was so much more beautiful than me. So much smarter than me. So much more pleasant to hang out with than me. And, she also happened to have her eyes on the same man as me. "Well, I was kind of thinking of asking him out. Could you help me out since you seem close to him?" Another thing, it's been two months since I met him and Eren had given me permission to be all over him (not really, but you know what I mean) and he gave me Levi's number. This was such great timing, I could just squeal in excitement... Yeah, right *eye roll* But I can't stop others from asking him out since I don't want to. "Of course. He deserves someone like you." Oh, how much I wanted to rip my lips off my face so I didn't have to fake smile. "Aw, thank you so much." But Petra was a wonderful girl who also deserves Levi. They'd make such a perfect couple, it makes me want to cry just by thinking of it. However, I'm still going to stick by my promise and help her. Even if they end up getting married, I'll carry on smiling because I'll be happy for them as I slowly die internally. A hand was placed on my shoulder, knocking me out of my daze. Instinctively, I twisted around and thrust my fist into the gut of the jerk who decided to put their nasty hands on me. I heard a groan, I saw his face, and I bit back a smile and apologised. "Sorry," I snorted. "Are you secretly part of some gang or something?" he managed to speak with a strained voice as he clutched his stomach. I giggled at his response as we moved to the side to get out of people's way. "No. I thought you were some pervert." "I'm the pervert? Think before you speak, darlin'--" "Yes, yes, I know. You're going to say I'm a perv. Anyway, once you recover, I'll introduce you to Petra," I said, giving a knowing look to the female. "He's not this weak, he's just being a drama queen." "Tch. Sorry I don't have abs of steel." How are you going to lie like that? You clearly have the most perfect abs, I thought. "Are you about done complaining?" I arched an eyebrow and he sighed before nodding as we started walking again. "So, this is Petra, a lovely person that isn't weird like my other friends who you prefer not to hang out with." "It's not that I don't want to hang out with them, it's just I have no idea what you're talking about because all I hear is laughing and incoherent words that you somehow understand." "Yeah, well, with Petra, you can have a civilised conversation." "Well, then, it's nice to meet you, Petra." "The same goes to you," she beamed. "Where were you guys going?" "Nowhere. (Y/N) and I were just walking around," I let her respond so they could talk some more. "What about you?" "I was going to get tea since I've run out." "Oh, okay," she paused, thinking of what to say next, so I lightly nudged her and mouthed some words. "Um, do you want company?" "No, it's fine. It'll be quicker if I go by myself." "Yeah, but the more, the merrier," I blurted out to which Levi lifted a brow to. "Well, since you're basically on your knees, begging to come, let's go." Petra mouthed a quick 'thank you' and I grinned in return, saying that I was going to quickly grab a coffee and then join them at the store. Both of them nodded and I went to the cafe Eren worked at. Oh, looks like he isn't here. I ordered a coffee and waited by the side, looking down at my phone. "Why are you so upset, princess? Missing your favourite waiter?" a voice teased, causing me to look up at the grinning Eren. I mirrored him with a grin of my own. "Yeah, but only because he gives my broke ass a discount," I retorted as he softly chuckled. "I'm surprised I don't see you with Levi." "I actually was, but he went to get tea from the shop down the road with Petra." "Petra?" "Yes... You've met her a couple of times." I bit down on my lip. "And I may have promised her that I'll help her get together with Levi," I told him as he took a customer's order. Once they paid, he started to prepare their order. "Why would you do that?" he questioned with furrowed brows. "Because I couldn't just say no. And I shouldn't stop girls from asking him out just because I don't have the guts to." "You're too nice. You have to learn to say no. And, if I were you, I would punch every girl that talks to him." "Yeah, but I'm not violent like that. Even though I just punched Levi." "Why?" "I thought he was some random dude who put their hand on my shoulder, so of course, I would punch any idiot who thought it would be a good idea to touch me." "He got what he deserves," Eren mumbled as he faced away from me to give the customer their order, but I vaguely heard him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Leave him alone," I childishly pouted. "He's done nothing to deserve your hatred. He doesn't have anything against you, so I don't know why you're still bothered." The teal-eyed male sighed. "I don't know either. I'm just being bitchy." "I'll prove to you that he's a decent person that you don't have to be worried about anymore." "Sure." "Excuse me, miss? Here's your coffee," the young man smiled and passed it to me. "Thank you," I replied and he went to serve some other person. "Anyway, I've got my coffee and I'm distracting you from your work, so I'll see you later." "Wait, give me a sip." I gave him my coffee and he smiled as he passed it back to me. "Bye, princess." I playfully rolled my eyes before leaving the cafe and making my way towards the store Levi and Petra would be at as I mentally prepared myself for whatever was to come. I entered the building and saw them at the till, paying for Levi's tea and some other things as they held a conversation.

I waited by the exit, leaning against a wall and taking small sips from my coffee as to not burn my tongue. They approached me and I pushed myself off of the wall, walking beside Petra, who was in the middle of us. And I mean that metaphorically and literally since she's stopping me from forming a relationship with Levi (it's my fault so I can't really blame her) and she's also walking in between us. After Levi had gotten his tea, he went home since he said he 'didn't feel like going anywhere'. That left me and Petra as she thanked me for helping her and introducing her to Levi. We ended up going to the library and whispered to each other about whatever we had missed, forgetting the books that we were reading. We then got some food that I decided to eat at home since I wasn't hungry when we got it. That's when our day together ended and we parted ways. Now, here I am, at home, cocooned in some blankets with a bowl of popcorn as I watched a show Hanji's been telling me to watch with all the lights off. About halfway through an episode, I heard the front door open and in came Hanji and her boyfriend. I paused it, knowing I would miss an important part when they come into the living room. Oh, just a heads up, by the way: Hanji's boyfriend is also one of my professors at our university. "Hi, (Y/N)," Hanji beamed as Erwin gave me a nod as a greeting. "Hey--" "Oh my gosh!! You're finally watching it!" "Yeah, but I'm only on the third episode." "I don't care. I'm so happy you decided to watch it," she squealed. "Anyway, I don't want to disturb you, so bye." She doesn't want to disturb me, huh? More like she doesn't want to waste time on this conversation when she could be doing other things with her boyfriend. And I'm so glad that the doors and walls are all thick, almost as if they're soundproof. I resumed it before having to pause it again due to my phone ringing. Doesn't my phone ring at the perfect times, like when I just want to relax? I answered the call after reading the name. "Hello?" "Yeah, hi." "What do you need?" "Why were you acting weird today?" "What do you mean?" "You know exactly what I mean. You may have seemed happy, but you didn't look it at all." "And what is that supposed to mean, Mr Moody?" "Yeah, you were smiling but it was forced. And you spoke with a happy tone, but your eyes didn't match it." "Why the hell are you staring at my eyes?" "(Y/N), just tell me what's going on." "... Why do you even care?" I muttered. "Because you almost never act like you did today." "Well, it's something I prefer not to share. I'm flattered that you care so much about me, but don't worry about how I'm acting," I responded, throwing some popcorn in my mouth and grinding it with my teeth. "Fine. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. Sorry for caring." I sighed and held my phone to my right ear now, instead of my left. "No, I'm sorry. I am being a bitch." "You're always one, darlin'. You're being a grumpy bitch today." As he said that, I could imagine a smirk etching onto his lips as his hues shimmered with amusement. Oh, how much I wished to see his face and I wished I hadn't told Petra to basically 'Go ahead and marry the love of my life'. "Oi, are you okay?" "Hm. Oh, sorry, I just zoned out. You should know I do that a lot by now." I loved his soft voice that sounded like a purr. I could imagine that he was either lying in bed or on the sofa because there was no sound of movement. Maybe just staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. Isabel and Farlan were probably in their rooms because it sounded like he was alone. I bet there was a hint of Earl Grey tea on his breath. Oh, imagine if he was lying down shirtless, exposing his sexy abs that I have yet to see. Yeah, I sound like a complete weirdo and perv but we've gone over that already, so it shouldn't be a surprise. "Anyway, you should probably go to sleep now since we've got uni tomorrow." "Yeah... Wait, when's our first lecture?" "Ten o'clock." "Okay, thanks. Looks like I can finish off this episode before going to bed." I couldn't see him, but I could almost sense that he rolled his eyes. "Make sure you get some sleep. Goodnight, darlin'." "Yeah, night, Ackerman." I locked my phone once he cut the phone and I was finally able to watch the damn episode. ~/~ "What did I tell you?" was the first thing someone said to me the next morning. "Hush. I don't feel like getting a scolding right now," I murmured and massaged my temples as I felt a headache arising. Not only did I lose precious hours of sleep, but I also happened to start my period this morning, so on top of my headache, I had cramps. Aren't I just the luckiest person alive? Even though his mouth never opened, I could just tell by the way Levi was looking at me that he was mentally cursing at me for not sleeping well so I rolled my eyes. "At least you don't look like a corpse, though." "Why, thank you," I replied sarcastically. "Hey, do any of you have painkillers?" I asked both males - Jean shook his head and Levi fished something out of his bag. "Oh my gosh, thank you so much." I took a water bottle out of my bag and gulped it down, along with two pills. I'm not overdosing, don't worry, it's just how many I take since one doesn't work on me. "Thank you," I said once again and he simply nodded as Professor Erwin (aka Hanji's boyfriend) walked in. Of course, he would be smiling more than usual (if you know what I'm implying). As the lecture went on, I forced my eyes to stay open and made sure that I wouldn't nod off. At one point, I had no idea how or when, but my head ended up on Levi's shoulder. I don't how long it was there for, but he gently nudged my head with his shoulder which woke me up. I found out that it was the end of my lecture and let out a huff as I packed my stuff away and followed other people out of the hall. As I did that, I spoke a few words with Historia, another civilised human that I often talk to. "I'll talk to you later, (Y/N)," she beamed with her glistening blue eyes and walked away as I waved at her. "Hey, sorry for falling asleep on your shoulder." "I don't care. But you're taking your ass home and having a nap. Our next lecture is at one so you can have a two-hour nap. Just make sure you aren't late." "Yeah, yeah. I need a human alarm, though. Do any of you want to hang out at my place?" "Sure," both males replied and shrugged as I smiled at them and we all proceeded to mine and Hanji's apartment. Once reaching our destination, I slipped my shoes off, dropped my bag to the floor and plopped down onto the sofa on my stomach, closing my eyes. Before I could fully relax, I felt a weight settle on top of me. "Ugh, I hate you, Jean," I groaned once turning my head to see that he was sitting on my back. "Love you, too," he teased. "Okay, shhh. Let me sleep."

[cl-01-kestis]

The Fall of Atollon

Dismay - Grand Admiral Thrawn x Rebel!Reader | Part 1

Summary: a decade and a half flies by and Omani is growing into an adult. It’s your responsibility to protect her from the dark truths of the Empire.

Warnings: very long, violence, angst

(Omani looks like this, using Ar’alani for reference)

“It’s too hot out here” You puffed out, lying on the ground beside Omani who was gulping down her water bottle at a rapid pace, wiping the sweat of her forehead as she hummed in agreement.

“That’s Atollon for you, Tiscen’i, but I agree... I don’t think it’s ever been this hot before” Omani panted as she removed her top, her black sports bra covering her chest as she dumped her T-shirt next to yours. She lay in the other direction from you, her head beside yours as the two of you bathed in the suns light.

As mother and daughter, shockingly, no one would ever guess either of you were related. She was mistaken to be a full blooded Chiss most of the time she met someone new. But when you say you’re her mother, that makes things twice as shocking. One, you’re a human, and two, you look stunning for your age, barely looking a few years older than Omani. Since Omani was now considered a grown up, your attitude started to change with her. Instead of treating her like a little girl, you treated her like your best friend. The two of you shared everything to each other, embarrassing stories, who you thought was attractive, countless inside jokes, but never your past. You’d lost count of how many times your daughter asked you who her father was, she was practically his double and you felt like you were cheating her out of her own heritage, but it was for her own safety.

She had sprouted into such a beautiful young woman, she had been promoted to general recently due to how much effort she had contributed to the rebellion. You used to be a general yourself, however you switched to a Senator after Omani was born with the guidance of Bail Organa, your mentor. You only attended the senate a handful of because of your betrayal to the Empire, you couldn’t risk being identified by a once known ally and trialed for treason. You couldn’t do that, not to Omani.

“Any more news about Thrawn?” You asked, biting the inside of your cheek as your daughter scoffed and let out an almost disgusted sigh.

“Unfortunately yes, that bircisb’s close to discovering the base... I’m doing all I can to keep everyone safe here, including you” Omani turned her head to look at you and noticed the frown stuck on your face. She was going to ask but thought it would be best if she kept her mouth shut since all you ever did was ignore her concern whenever she asked.

Thrawn, her father, was a man she wanted nothing more than to shoot. She was aware of his Chiss origins and even saw him once on a holo recording with you beside her, nearly on the verge of fainting. It took you all your strength not to tell her the truth, but thankfully she didn’t suspect anything about her possibly being related to him and digging into it.

“You work too hard visahot, but you remind me of myself when I used to work for the Empire” You joked dryly, earning a soft chuckle from Omani who leaned her head against yours whilst blocking her bright red eyes from the sun.

“Did you ever meet him whilst you were in the academy? Maybe Tarkin or Vader?” Omani asked curiously, shifting her body at an angle so the back of her head was resting on your shoulder.

“You’d never be lucky enough to see Tarkin or Vader... they were far too superior to be in an imperial academy,” You started.

“But Thrawn? He was the meanest and most serious man I’d ever met” Your voice was oddly calm as you spoke to Omani. She was surprised when the words left your mouth, this was the most open you’d ever been with her and of all the things it was about the man causing terror to their rebellion?

“So you did meet him?” Your daughter smirked, rolling onto her stomach so she was looking at you, her face upside down from where you were lying. You smiled at her expression and shrugged.

“Comrades, but I only spoke to him once” You lied through clenched teeth, sitting up and avoiding bashing Omanis head as she leaned back and sat up with you. The two of you looked at one another and for a moment, all you could see was Thrawn. She was so like him, mannerisms and even accent. The only difference was what side they fought on, a father and daughter on opposite sides and neither of them even knew of their connection, only you did.

“You never really open up about your time at the academy, was it really that bad?” Your blue skinned daughter raised a brow, her beautiful red eyes looking straight into yours as if she was searching for the truth.

“It’s an experience I’m not willing to fully share yet, visahot, but one day you’ll know” You reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder, patting it in an assuring manner which seemed to put her curiosity to the side for the time being.

A flock of loud shouting had brought the two of you out of your thoughts and you stood up immediately, throwing on your shirt and waiting for Omani who ushered you forward whilst putting on her own shirt, tugging it over her head clumsily whilst running to the holo table which all of the rebels surrounded. You spotted Hera Syndulla, her face melting into a frustrated frown. You noticed there were multiple star destroyers that popped up on the hologram, a flock of them right above Atollon.

“Oh no...” You mumbled, heart dropping to your feet when you realised what this meant for you and the rebels.

“Thrawn’s planning an orbital strike on Atollon” Hera said, trapping her chin between her index finger and thumb. You looked at her with wide, terrified eyes, wishing this was all some kind of nightmare. Omani reached out and held your hand out of fear, staying close to you as you both looked at the hologram.

Zeb and Rex had installed a protective barrier around the base, but you weren’t sure how long it was going to hold up for. Omani had left to get dressed and get her things packed, her blaster in her hand when she returned and was called to plan out what was going to happen by other rebels. You stayed with Hera, practically on the verge of hyperventilating as you knotted your hair with your fingers, trying to control your breathing.

“Hey, don’t get all scared on me now, you’re the bravest woman I know on this damn planet” Hera walked up to you, taking your hands away from your hand and holding them tight. You sniffed, nodding your head as a few tears left your glassy eyes.

“Death isn’t what I’m worried about” You whimpered, Thrawn’s face coming into mind when you looked back at the star destroyers. You were afraid to look at the sky, too petrified to even think of anything else apart from the fact that Thrawn was here.

“Then what is it?” Hera asked with confusion, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and taking you away from the table since the image wasn’t making you feel any better. You rubbed your eyes, swallowing down the lump in your throat and trying your best to stay strong for the rebels.

“I can’t say, but promise me if anything goes wrong, you’ll get Omani away from here?” You looked up at the Twi’lek, pleading with your eyes as your hands trembled by your side. Hera nodded sternly, pulling you into a brief hug before excusing herself to prepare for the upcoming orbital strike, leaving you alone in a flurry of anxiety.

You rushed to your room, which had once belonged to you and Ahsoka but now her side of the room was taken up by Omani. You grabbed your jacket and pulled it over your arms and back, grabbing two blasters and a locket which you had since your Imperial days, a locker Thrawn gave to you.

When you got back outside, the orbital strike was taking place. Panicking, you screamed out Omanis name over and over again, looking in all directions before you saw her far away watching the strike with her friends by her side. You let out a sigh of relief but you ran to Hera who was staring up at the herd of incoming green lasers slamming against the barrier. You could see the barrier starting to weaken, you trembled beside Hera who looked away just as the shield was about to break, when all of a sudden the firing stopped.

Everything was dead silent for a while, the sound of burning surrounding the outside of the shield and clouds of black smoke rising from the ground.

“It held! It held!” You heard Zeb yell in the distance, a relieved smile making its way onto your face after some time. You turned to Omani, noticing she was laughing with her friends and rubbing her eyes as if she’d been crying.

Looking over to see you, she bolted in your direction and slammed her body against yours in a tight embrace, her arms wrapped tight around your neck as she held back a sob in your shoulder. You stroked her navy coloured hair, pressing a firm kiss on her temple before pulling back and cupping her face with your hands. No words were exchanged as the two of you smiled at one another before hearing the voices of Zeb and Rex requesting your help.

-

This wasn’t exactly the situation you were planning to be in. You, Zeb and Rex all hid behind a large plant on the outskirts of the rebel base where most of the air strike had hit. The smell of burning and dirt filled your senses but now was not the time to complain, now was the time to hopefully take down the Empire’s ambush.

“I hope this plan of yours works” Zeb said to Rex, the three of you looking ahead at the desolate patch of land ahead and waiting for any sign of movement.

“Yeah...me too” Rex replied in a not so confident tone, causing you to look up at him with a frown but you let it slide for the time being. Rex looked through his binoculars, inspecting what was in the distance as you and Zeb as well as lots more other rebels awaited for the order. The familiar sound of metal creaking caught your attention and made your hearing perk up. You listened in, recognising the sound that belonged to an AT-ST.

“Here they come” Zeb nervously informed you and Rex. You held your breath when Rex pulled out the small detonator in his hand and not wasting a moment as his thumb pressed down eagerly on the red button at the top.

Three explosions erupted ahead of you and half of the AT-ST’s were taken down in seconds. Pressing the button once more, two more ST’s were taken down but one of them managed to get through the barrier. Zeb stood up behind you and Rex, holding a massive rocket launcher with a big grin on his purple face.

“Left one for you” Rex smirked, his grin matching Zeb’s as he ignited the rocket launcher which flew right into the middle of the ST, exploding as it touched the surface. You cheered, patting Zeb on the shoulder as you stood up to inspect the damage from a distance. Your coms link went off on your wrist and you brough it up to your face to see that Omani was contacting you.

“Hey Mom! Was the mission a success?” Her voice was eager but also full of concern.

“Yes Princess, Rex and Zeb took down 6 ST’s! Safe to say we’ll be okay” You assured her with a smile, speaking clearly into the mic of the coms.

“That’s a relief” She chuckled.

“I hope you’re safe back at the base? Don’t sneak out and join in the action, as tempting as it is” You warned her, frowning slightly when it went silent briefly.

“You know I don’t sneak around, Tiscen’i, when have I ever denied you?” Omani spoke in an almost sarcastic tone but it still managed to make you laugh. Just as you were about to reply, a loud noise came from the distance and you and Rex snapped your heads towards it.

“I know that sound...” Rex murmured.

“Yeah... and I hate that sound” Zeb snarled.

“I need to go, somethings happening- I love you visahot” you said quickly before cutting off the line, giving no time for Omani to reply and give her more reason to worry for your safety.

“Lousy four leggers” Rex growled, drawing your attention to the four AT-AT’s making their way towards you.

“Hit ‘em with the detonators” Zeb urged with a scowl, still holding the large and now empty rocket launcher. Rex pressed down on the small button in his hand once more, causing more bombs to go off, only this time none of them effected the AT’s and they still continued moving forward and eventually passing through the barrier.

“We need Sabine to create a shield you can’t walk through” Zeb spoke in a frustrated tone, his eyes flashing with anger but also concern.

“Let’s hope we get a chance to tell her” Rex agreed before turning on his heel and making a run for it. Wasting no time, you followed the clone and the Lasat deeper into the Atollon forest and further away from the AT’s. A loud explosion erupted behind the three of you and you realised the AT was targeting you all as well as the other rebels who stayed behind you, Zeb and Rex. You didn’t bother looking back as the sound of X-wings and tie fighters roared through the sky above you, shooting at each other and some eventually zooming down to crash near you.

You got behind one of the massive leafs behind Zeb and Rex and started shooting at the AT closest to you, only for it to angle its head down and start shooting at you once again. You ran forward and the three of you hid behind a lead individually, exchanging glances of reassurance before a loud buzzing noise echoed behind you. You turned and peeked around the leaf, only to witness the magnificent sight of Kanan Jarrus cutting through the AT’s legs, the large machine eventually stumbling to its knees until its head crashed down on a few stormtroopers.

“Kanan, glad you could join us!” Zeb shouted in delight as the Jedi ran up to the three of you with a smile.

“Hera said you’re bringing help?” The lasat asked with a hint of curiosity, turning on his foot and resuming his running with the three of you behind him.

“Maybe, maybe not!” The Jedi responded, earning a frown from you as you kept your pace up so you didn’t trail behind.

The four of you ran right into a small tunnel, following the rest of the rebels as a loud storm rumbled above you. Your pace didn’t falter as you heard the distant whistling of a ship landing and if anything it only made you run faster. Kanan directed you through the tunnel with his lightsaber, coming up to two tunnels.

“This way!” As he pointed which direction you should go to next, a death trooper emerged from the corner and started shooting at the four of you.

“The other way, the other way!” He panicked, running into the other tunnel with you trailing behind him. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt like you were going to pass out at any moment, but you held onto that tiny bit of energy you had left and brewed it into the determination to survive and be able to see Omani again.

After escaping the endless nightmare called the tunnels, you made it back to the base and scampered to the holo table hiding in between crates as the noise of the AT’s guns shot up at the shield.

“Kanan! You made it, what happened with your friend?” Hera asked in a stern tone. You, Zeb and Rex put your bodies against the crates and guarded the entrance, making sure no stormtroopers were coming in as Hera negotiated with Kanan.

“Oh don’t worry, I think he’s coming” Kanan replied.

After a few seconds, the team was moving and you had your blaster wrapped tightly in your hand, your finger hovering over the trigger. The generator behind you broke and the shield was taken down, resulting in incoming ties and imperial reinforcements.

A transport left the bay but was unfortunately shot down which made you stop dead in your tracks. Zeb stopped beside you and his ears drooped when he realised what might’ve happened.

“Omani!!” You cried, immediately dialling into your coms but only for a blaster to be pressed against your skull as a death trooper shoved you forward towards the rest of the group. You sobbed, sniffing and trying your hardest not to cry when all you could think about was the fact that your daughter might’ve been on that ship. Zeb held you close as you continued to cry whilst a blaster was pointed dangerously close to your face, the death trooper muttering something you couldn’t quite understand due to the audio of their helmet.

“And now, Captain Syndulla,” A voice spoke from the clouds of smoke, causing you to stop your crying and lean back with wide, shocked eyes. It couldn’t be.

“I will accept your formal surrender,” You stood frozen in your spot as Zeb shielded you protectively from the man who had just made his grand appearance.

“I don’t believe it” You whispered, but the death trooper noticed and bashed the edge of his blaster harshly against your skull.

“Or you will watch your friends perish, one by one, beginning with the Jedi” You backed away, reaching for your blaster as Kanan ignited his lightsaber and everyone else sheathed their weapon of choice. Painfully, you turned around and looked at the trooper standing behind you, pointing your blaster at his helmet and staring at him with a teary scowl.

“You already know my answer” Hera hissed with disgust glaring strongly at the Imperial dressed in white that you absolutely refused to look at no matter how much he threatened your friends. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be.

Just as you were about to shoot the trooper, a loud thunder strike boomed in the sky and only then did you remember the storm from earlier. You turned to look up at the storm and so did the death trooper, your blasters lowering slightly as you set eyes on the large black clouds hovering above all of you.

“Do you fear the storm, Master Jedi?” Thrawn smirked, his hands clasped behind his back as he approached Kanan who blindly stared at the sky with a worried face.

“Yeah. And you sgould too” The Jedi replied, right before a dangerously close lightning strike hit the ground and missed Thrawn by at least a meter.

“Hang onto something!” Kanan warned before unsheathing his lightsaber.

“What kind of Jedi devilry is this?” Thrawn glared up at the sky, his forearm shielding his gaze as the wind picked up and the thunder grew louder.

Barely seconds later, a blaring, deep voice exclaimed from the sky. “I am the Bendu”.

Two glowing orange eyes opened in the cloud and you found yourself dumbfounded by it. Never in your life had you set eyes on something as magnificently terrifying as this!

“What is that?” Zeb asked next to you as you took subtle steps away from the Chiss and his men. You looked to Hera as she looked to her partner. “Uh, Kanan?”.

“I told you my friend was coming” He exclaimed in a tone you couldn’t quite identify, it was a mixture of confidence but also fear.

“I bring death!” The thing called Bendu proclaimed.

“He’s nice!” You yelled sarcastically, frowning at Kanan who smiled very awkwardly. You looked over to see that two colossal lightning bolts had hit two of the AT’s, immediately destroying them and causing them to fall to the ground. Unlucky for the group, more lightning bolts started crashing their way towards you and without thinking twice, you bolted in the opposite direction with everyone following you. You skidded behind a crate, peeking behind it to look up at the gigantic monsterous being that was less than happy.

“Leave this place” don’t have to tell me twice, you thought with a frown, looking to your left to see a few death troopers hiding behind their own crates.

“I am the light, I am the dark” You found yourself watching Bendu with fascination but you were still fearing for your life, looking to Hera and Kanan who were looking just as surprised as you were.

“I am the Bendu!” The cloud bellowed before sending more lightning down to strike the death troopers who had been obliviously out in the open.

“You heard him! Make for the ship!” Kanan turned to all of you, his lips in a thin like as he gripped his lightsaber tightly. You all nodded, but just as you were about to run, you stopped as everyone else left for the ship. The thunder was so loud but you looked around despite the fact you might be killed right here and then. You watched the remaining death troopers yell to one another as they tried shooting at the cloud.

You stood in the middle of the platform, looking at the man dressed in white who was looking at the cloud as if he had no fear. You couldn’t tear your eyes away and eventually ended up being spotted by one of the death troopers. Aiming your blaster, You shot him down but drew the attention of Thrawn whilst you were at it.

You heard the voices of Kanan and Hera call out to you as they watched in horror when Thrawn turned around and finally spotted you. Your hands trembled violently as they gripped onto the blaster that was aimed right at Thrawn, your face a mask of fright as Thrawn’s eyes widened and his face morphed into a frown, a very angry frown.

The lightning didn’t distract either of you as your blaster kept its aim, level with your face but it was low enough for Thrawn to see all of it from a distance. He knew who you were, he didn’t see you in the group because you were hidden and his attention was mostly on Kanan but now, now he had a whole new mission, a whole new ambition for upcoming missions.

“(Y/N), hurry up we gotta go!” Zeb screamed your name but you didn’t move, you were frozen as Thrawn drew out his blaster and pointed it right at you. There was a fire in his eyes, a fire you had never seen when you used to know him. It alarmed you greatly.

“Leave without me! Omani’s gone, I’ve got nothing left to live for!” You yelled back through tears, looking back to the crew who were all staring at you with wide, agonising stares.

“No, I won’t leave you!” Kanan exclaimed, jumping off the ramp and running up to you whilst igniting his lightsaber, ready to deflect Thrawn’s blaster as he grabbed your arm and started dragging you to the ship. You started shooting aimlessly at Thrawn, screaming and crying as you pictured Omani in your mind. Thrawn didn’t shoot back and he didn’t move either, all your shots missed him and you chucked your blaster on the ground after giving up.

You ran with Kanan to the ship in tears, the ramp closing behind you as you collapsed onto the floor on your hands and knees. Your arms bent and you leaned your head onto your hands, your cries echoing around the ship as it flew into hyperspace.

Hera wrapped an arm around you and pulled you back, sitting with you on the ground and resting your head on her chest as you continued to let out your tears of pain and anger. The crew watched with sadness, wishing they could comfort you but they were ushered into their rooms by Kanan who stayed with you and Hera once everyone was away.

[anthonyed]

buckytony for “it’s cold, you should wear my jacket”? only if you’re still taking prompts !

Thank you for requesting, Ava! I hope you like this:) (from this list)

-//-

Bucky Barnes loves people.

He genuinely loves them; the way they interact, the way they act and react and all of their emotions especially their unsurmountable passion – Witnessing that in itself can be electrifying.

Secretly, Bucky wishes he could taste that much passion at least once. 

Subconsciously, he seeks them out in people he’s around – Hoping even if it’s not his own, at least, someone would be kind enough to share theirs.

-

When he first tries to acclimatize to the ecosystem in the Avengers tower, he sticks a lot with Bruce because Bruce oozes tranquillity.

Bruce has weekly tea dates with Natasha, whom Bucky kinda remembers but also kinda doesn't. But since he's leaving all those memories behind and moving on, he doesn't wallow into that part of his past too much. 

He joins them on their tea dates. Natasha later invites him for Yoga sessions and once Bucky is confident enough to be alone with her, he joins her.

They practice various poses for hours and at the end of each session, Bruce will pop in to lead them through meditation. Which is all good; a reliable system in the building if you ask for Bucky’s opinion.

But Natasha occasionally goes on missions and Bruce on some personal trips; sometimes both of their trips coincide and Bucky's left fending for himself.

These are the times when he pops out of his room, feet padding in the direction of boisterous laughter which comes from Sam Wilson and Clint Barton; resident's children.

They teach him how to play video games and curse in 21st century slang. He learns slurs and cuss words which he then practices on Steve for personal entertainment.

There's also Miss Potts who flutters in and out of their life like a hummingbird.

Bucky first meets her on an early Monday morning; sitting alone at the communal kitchen table talking to herself (which he later learns was to an earpiece).

She's thoughtful in a way that nobody else is.

She loudly complains about Tony Stark while jabbing at the coffee machine pointedly, making sure Bucky could see what she is doing - And he realises half-way through that she is teaching him how to operate the machinery without being obvious about it.

She's lovely; Bucky likes her very much.

He also likes Jim Rhodes, who is worse than Miss Hummingbird. 

Who visits during the Memorial Day, gets stupid drunk trying to out drink Stevie then uses Bucky as his beanpole for the entire afternoon recounting all of his favourite military tales until he passes out.

Bucky doesn't mind; Colonel Rhodes smells nice under all the alcohol and he makes very funny jokes. 

There’s also the fact that Tony Stark loves him very loudly and proudly.

Like Stevie, he thinks; Tony Stark is Colonel Rhodes’ Stevie (Or maybe it’s the other way around, Bucky needs more time to figure that one out.)

Harold 'Happy' Hogan catches Bucky stepping out of the tower one night and offers to drive him in one of Stark's long weiner cars. When Bucky says no thanks, he crooks a finger and shows him where the motorbikes are.

"Are you sure...?"

"As long as you don't crash," Happy tosses a set of keys and Bucky accepts it, reluctantly.

But the ride he gets that evening is both soul-shifting and addictive, and he feels more reluctant returning the key when it ends.

“Never mind,” Happy tells him, “These are accessible any time, just ask JARVIS for them.”

And Bucky thinks Happy is cool that way. So, when he's coming home from long rides then on, Bucky makes sure to grab burgers with extra fries for him. Happy likes them curly; Bucky remembers that too for him,

Bucky meets Tony Stark on the battle-field for the first time. Static, machine-modulated voice tells him to watch his "sexy six" and Bucky blushes three shades darker under the afternoon Sun.

Later, after long countless observations, Bucky learns Tony Stark flirts like he breathes; no intentions what-so-ever beneath his wicked tongue.

But Bucky's got a heart too tender just blooming out of ash like baby phoenix and he couldn't help but get deeply affected by each one of those passes Tony throws at him.

He blushes like a red rose in July; warm and pretty and everyone notices the weakened state of his knees.

From Bruce to Natasha to Stevie, Sam and Clint. Hell, even Happy and Miss Potts could see past his breastbone where his heart flutters out of control when Tony Stark is around.

Come Halloween, Colonel Rhodes passes through; staying for one night and in the span of less than five hours he's been around, he corners Bucky in the kitchen and asks him what his intentions are.

Bucky stutters through his response; even apologizes for his over-reaction to Tony Stark's meaningless flirtation.

But Jim Rhodes cocks his head right and squeezes his arm. He says if there is anyone he'd trust to make his Tony happy, then it would be: "You, Sergeant Barnes"

Colonel Rhodes flies early on November 1st, but his words stick long and hard in Bucky's brain for weeks on end.

Then one day, an idea strikes him.

He rolls out of the bed with a sense of urgency; sending texts to both Bruce and Tasha, apologizing for not being able to make it to today's tea session and he hops into the elevator; pulling his shoes on, one after another.

"The workshop please, Mister JARVIS," he requests.

He knows Tony's in. Heard him talking to Miss Potts this morning about clearing out his schedule and Bucky hopes with all of his beating heart that his plan wouldn't face any rejection from Tony.

Stepping into the shop, breathless from all the emotions boiling in his chest, Bucky blurts out: "Come out with me."

Tony stark; stunned behind his protective eyewear, arms bare through his singlet, drops the welding torch he's been manning with a loud clang.

"Now?" he asks.

Not 'Are you kidding me?' or 'No fucking way'; but, 'Now?' he asks while wiping his fingers on a cloth, looking ready to follow like he’s been waiting for Bucky to come around since ages ago.

Bucky grins at him. "Yeah," he nods, "It’s cold, you should wear my jacket." He tosses the extra pair he'd grabbed from his closet and Tony catches it with an ease and an amused grin.

“Your jacket, Sergeant? I could swoon.”

“Good,” Bucky says, watching him pull it on. “I was hoping you would.”

Ten minutes later, they're speeding on the freeway on one of Tony's bikes; late Autumn breeze licking where their skins are uncovered, and it's freezing cold. But Bucky could only taste the warmth from Tony’s body plastered against him; his arms, tight and securely locked around his midriff. Like bursts of sunlight in a snow-storm.

They stop for dinner at one of the diners Bucky had been to twice before - could vouch for their food - and he's more than glad when Tony wipes his plate clean with the last fry.

When he packs for Happy like he usually does, Tony watches him with a curious kind of softness in his brown eyes; so, Bucky shares their little story with him.

On their way back home, they pull over at the side of the freeway that’s shaving the top of a small hill overlooking a neighbourhood and it’s guarded by a long silver railing which Tony hops over; waits for Bucky to follow with his hand out-reached for taking.

Bucky grabs it; clutches onto like a lifeline, at the same time, a fragile china, and they shuffle down the grassy slope; mouths split in wide grins, chuckles bursting out of seams and when Tony comes to a stop somewhere in the middle, Bucky does too.

"It's not always you get to see stars," Tony says, fingers tangled with Bucky’s like he wants to be and he's beautiful; eyes cast skyward, wonder glimmering in their warmth, lips curved in a soft angle -

He looks like the star itself has descended to earth; burning bright before Bucky's eyes and - Jesus Roosevelt Christ. What kind of heaven is that? Bestowed on Bucky, like a blessing beyond any worth and he doesn't know what to do with himself right then. 

You leave me breathless: he longs to say. You make me feel blessed beyond what I deserve, make me feel more than I know I ever could and it would be my goddamn honour to love you, I swear - Would be my Goddamn fucking honour to love you, sweetheart.

 But he doesn't say all that; would have choked on his tongue before he could even manage half of them out, so he swallows his spit and watches Tony watch the stars until his swollen heart explodes into confetti rain in its cage and -

And then, Bucky breathes; inhales lungs full of cold air prickling like icicles throughout his chest – shuddering, and when Tony looks down from the night sky at him, Bucky cups his jaw with trembling fingers and strokes his cheek with a thumb.

"You drive me insane," he tells him. "But you also keep me sane.”

“You’re like Bruce with his tea and Tasha with her Yoga. You’re what Sam and Clint describe how they feel when they play video games, or how Stevie says drawing makes him feel. You make my heart hop a mile like a bunny rabbit but also soothe me like balm, and if that’s how it feels to be passionate in life, then you’re my reason why.”

The stars blink up in the sky, the sound of the traffic along with the bone chilling November breeze witness Bucky empty his soul for Tony to take in the middle of a hill slope, somewhere upstate. 

But Tony, he's silent; for the first time since Bucky had known him, he's holding his tongue. And Bucky wishes he doesn't. 

Wishes, he would say something; anything at all. Or he would smile, or grin, and let Bucky taste passion for the first time from his tongue - One that is his own for a change, not someone else's. 

But neither happens; nothing happens. 

Tony doesn't say a word or show any signs of either acceptance or rejection; even if his breath catches in a sharp inhale exactly one time and he presses his hand over Bucky’s on his face. 

But neither could count in the face of how violently Bucky had cleaved his gut open for Tony that night.

They get on the road again soon after and Bucky's skin starts to itch from growing worries; wondering if he’d crossed a fine line between them because Tony's silence is eating him alive.

He stays pressed close to Bucky’s back for their entire ride home; hands locked tight over Bucky’s midriff and somewhere in the middle, Bucky feels the heat of Tony's cheek through his leather jacket; pressed between his shoulder blades, injecting trickles of hope into his spine.

When they reach the city and later the tower; when Bucky pulls into the garage and turns off the engine, neither of them gets off the bike.

For Bucky, he pretends the journey's still not over so he could savour the warmth plastered onto his back just a little while longer.

As for Tony, Bucky finds out why he’s staying when the locked arms around his waist breaks and one of the hands wander upwards; coming to rest over where Bucky’s heart trips and races; the prickling sensation along his nape doubling and he stops breathing all at once.

When he does inhale, his spine bones shudder from the forceful way he sucks in a breath. Evidently feeling the tremor, Tony chuckles close to his ear and tells him to, “Take it easy, James. I’m trying to feel if you’ve told me the truth, or made up a beautiful lie.”

A giddy exhale escapes Bucky’s chest in a soft puff air. Feeling suddenly bold just from that statement, he leans back into Tony’s hold and presses his own hand on top of his.

And he savours the silence along with the sweet scent of Tony tinged with metal and grease, and Bucky could swear, he feels Tony’s heartbeat through the layers of their clothes. From behind their ribs and flesh and through their lungs, and it feels like the meat of their hearts have merged into one; singing to the same symphony in the womb of their home.

Later, once the tune has sunk into his marrow, Bucky quietly asks, “What’s the verdict, sweetheart?”

Their hands still lay, combined over Bucky’s chest and it’s heaven to be this close with someone you ache for – Bucky knows. He never forgets to count his blessings these days; he just hopes that this one never finds its end at all.

If he could whisper a wish into the air, he’d ask God to let them stay this way forever. But this goes both ways, and Bucky may be selfish but he’s not entirely cruel; he wouldn’t subject Tony to what he doesn’t want.

So, he gives him another out; prods, “Am I a liar or am I not?”, when Tony doesn’t answer him the first time around.

But Tony seems to desire what Bucky wants – Which. What a miracle is that?

He says, “Shh, James Barnes. Let’s just stay like this longer,” and Bucky’s poor heart, in all of its new born tenderness; speckles of ash still present from when it was reborn like a phoenix  - Finally, finds its wings and soars high. 

[cloudaura93]

Fall for You Pt.2 - Cindy/Alice Fanfiction (FEAR STREET)

Synopsis: SPOILER WARNING. Please don’t read if you haven’t watched the whole series. The second part of this story. Picks up at the end of the first part and covers the ending of the 1978 massacre flashback. I have an idea for a smaller final story to wrap everything up. Cindy and Ziggy are trying to reunite Sarah Fier’s hand with her body to stop the curse meanwhile Alice is helping in her own way as best she can given the circumstances. AU with alternating POVs between Alice and Cindy. 

Alice’s POV:

I hear Cindy and Ziggy flee the cabin as I struggle to subdue Tommy, my former friend and current possessed killer. He throws me off, recovers, and lifts me up by my neck slowly squeezing my windpipe, and then decides to toss me through the front doors of the cabin instead of strangulation. I land hard with a thud on my back while also smacking my head on the ground.

“Ouch.” I say under my breath as I slowly sit up and start scrambling to my feet. I see Tommy slowly approaching with the axe in hand, and I realize I either need to run away or find a weapon. A weapon. Of course. I reach down and remove the knife from the sheath Cindy used as part of the splint to support my fucked up leg.

“Here goes nothing.” I whisper as I launch myself toward him. When I’m a couple feet away, I throw the knife toward his face where it hits its mark squarely in his left eye as I dodge to the right, narrowly avoiding the impact from the axe swing. It momentarily stuns him as I start hobbling away to hide. I hope I bought Cindy and Ziggy enough time. I hope they are still alive because I’ll be damned if I let some stupid ass curse ruin my life further especially after I just got my girl back. We deserve happiness too.

I expect Tommy to continue pursuing me, but instead I turn around and realize that he is heading in the opposite direction.

“Oh shit!” I exclaim as it hits me that I was only a distraction, and the main target is Ziggy who is at the Hanging Tree with her sister trying to reunite Sarah Fier’s hand to her body. I instantly swivel around and limp behind killer Tommy moving as fast as I can. I try to keep up to hopefully have a chance to warn the girls as they try to stop this carnage once and for all.

We are approaching our mutual destination a few minutes later, and I notice out of my peripheral vision that I’m too late to help. I watch my beautiful snitch getting brutalized by her ex-boyfriend’s axe at the same time Ziggy is being repeatedly stabbed by the Milkman. It’s like some horrible plaguing nightmare, all playing out in slow motion while I’m about thirty seconds away, but hopeless to do anything to help. 

“NOOOO!” I scream out in agony as I collapse to the ground on my knees ignoring the piercing pain in my leg.

As I’m crying for a few seconds, it suddenly goes quiet and I glance up to see all the Shadyside killers have disappeared. I instinctively crawl on my knees toward the girls’ bodies hoping to say goodbye. I’m almost to Cindy when I hear the rustling of footsteps next to me. 

“Alice?!” He says, and I recognize the voice. Nick Goode. Of course he’s here. Fucking Sunnyvale’s prodigal son. The savior. The knight in shining armor trying to rescue the poor surviving Shadyside campers.

“Save her Nick! Save Ziggy!” I shout through choked back sobs willing him to understand my meaning as I sadly reach my girlfriend, and grasp her hand letting the tears flow down my cheeks. I couldn’t save Cindy, but I can at least attempt to keep her sister alive.

“I will. I promise. And Alice? I’m sorry.” Before I can even react, I feel a stinging sensation in my back and as my vision fades to black, I realize that this is how I’m going to die. With a whimper, not a bang. Alone and betrayed by Nick fucking Goode. A literal backstabber. You unimaginable bastard. We were so close. Not that it matters anymore. No one will remember us, and our sacrifice. This will just be another unfortunate and bloody tale of the cursed town of Shadyside. The infamous Camp Nightwing massacre of 1978.

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Cindy’s POV:

As Ziggy and I are digging down to find Sarah Fier’s body, we stumble upon something hard that we hit with the shovels. 

“I found something!” Ziggy states excitedly. I hold my breath as I help her unearth whatever was buried underneath the tree. It’s a rock with an engraving on it.

“The witch forever lives.” I shakily gasp out.

“The witch forever lives.” My little sister repeats the statement before following up with “Cindy, what does it mean? Cindy?!” She asks worriedly.

“I don’t know.” I answer softly.

“What...where is she? Where’s the body?” 

“I don’t know.” I replied. We share a look first at each other and then at Tommy who is on our tails.

“This way. Come on.” I continue as I grab Ziggy’s arms and drag her up so we can attempt to run away. We turn around and realize that the other Shadyside killers are also here quickly approaching from every direction.

“What do you want, Sarah Fier? You want this?” As I hold up her hand. “You can have it. Just let my sister live. Just let my sister live!” I plead. I drop the hand next to the hole we dug in frustration and grab one of the shovels.

I realize sadly that there is no escape, at least not for me. But I can protect Ziggy as best I can and give her a fighting chance.

“You bled on the bone. They are after you. Get ready to run.” I tell her sadly. I’m so sorry Ziggy. I’m so sorry Alice. I wish we had more time to spend together, to make up for lost time. I tried my best but I failed both of you again. I love you so much. I’ll see you again.

“No Cindy no!” I hear her cry out at the realization of my decision. I hurriedly take hold of her arm again and we start sprinting together. At the last second however, I push her aside and swing the shovel at Tommy where I connect with his head but he immediately retaliates with a smack to my head with the axe’s blunt end. 

I fall down onto the ground hard helpless as I glance out of the corner of my eye to hear Ziggy screaming while being attacked by the Milkman at the same time the axe collides with my chest piercing my insides. Tommy strikes me repeatedly and as blood begins gurgling out of my mouth, I turn my head to face my baby sister who I notice is reaching out her hand toward me. I reciprocate the gesture and say one last thing to her knowing this is the end. 

“Nothing...will...pull...us...apart…” I gasp my final breath as the world goes dark and my eyes slowly close and I feel myself fading away. 

Some time later…

Cindy’s POV:

“Cindy. Wake up. You need to see this...to understand.” A disembodied voice whispers in my ear. I struggle to regain consciousness as I hear the faint sounds of terror around me.

“This is important. Please wake up.” The voice repeats itself. I stir and slowly attempt to stand as I’m feeling wobbly on my feet. Once my balance returns, I instantly realize that I feel different than I did when I was alive not too long ago.

“Where...where am I?” I ask the voice which has a feminine tone to it.

“Not quite sure. All I know is this is where the poor unfortunate souls who have attempted to thwart the Goode family’s treachery end up after they die. It’s sort of like limbo and you are a ghost observing the effects of the curse until one day it can finally end.”

I nod in understanding as I look around and realize that I’m standing at the edge of the clearing where the Hanging Tree is located.

“Sarah Fier.” I reply, finally figuring it out. 

“Yes. It’s me. I tried to warn you. I’ve always tried warning everyone who stumbles upon the curse. No one has ever figured it out completely. You were the closest, but alas you ran out of time just like the others.” She answers sadly.

“Will she live? Did I save my sister at least?” I inquire as I stare at Ziggy who is slowly dying.

“No. You did your best, but ultimately failed. Your girlfriend fared slightly better, but will still pay the ultimate price.” Sarah replies as she teleports us closer to the tree. I stare in shock as I notice my dear sweet Alice stumbling toward my body.

“Alice! No! I have to help her!” I cry out desperately wanting to save her from her fate as Nick Goode drives a knife deep into her back where she collapses onto my corpse, the light leaving her eyes as she bleeds out.

“She’s gone, but your sister will live. Nick Goode will see to it. Take solace that she survives. And your dear Alice will join us shortly so you will be reunited. You won’t share this existence alone..” Sarah nonchalantly explains. 

As if on command, I hear soft footsteps from behind and spin around to face my badass and brave girlfriend.

“Hey snitch.” She greets with a smirk. I race over and embrace her by wrapping my arms around her neck, tears misting at my eyes. She instinctively wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me closer. We hold each other for a couple minutes until I have to ask her a very important question.

“What took you so long?” I whisper in her ear echoing the last time I said that to her when we were still alive. She pulls back from the hug and grasps both my hands with her own.

“Three guesses. Besides, I couldn’t leave you to face this uncertain future alone. You are stuck with me now princess. For better or worse. Not letting you go this time” She beams.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I smile and close the gap between us to gently kiss her on the lips. 

Despite recent events, I still have hope. Alice and I get to spend eternity together even though we are both dead, and Ziggy lives even with survivor’s guilt. It’s not a perfect happy ending, but I’ll take what I can get. It’s better than what most Shadysiders get to experience in their lives.

And since we have been given a second chance to fix our mistakes and help prevent the spilling of more innocent bloodshed, it means we have a chance to help the next generation. To help Sarah stop the Goode family from continuing to enact this curse over Shadyside. Alice and I just need to watch over Ziggy until she’s ready, and then bide our time until the opportunity presents itself to intervene. This time we will be ready, and revenge is a dish best served cold. We are coming for you Nick Goode, one way or another.

The End?

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Movie Review: Cruella

Disclaimer: This is my non-spoiler review for Cruella, posting either the day or the day after the movie is released in the U.K, so if you are yet to see the movie and want to go in with a clear head do not read on until you do.

General Reaction:

Cruella however, I knew from the first trailer I was determined to see in cinemas and the fact it was my first time back in cinemas seeing a movie, I could not think of a better opening play.

It has been a while not only since I have been to the cinema, but also since I watched a new movie. Anything new that has come to me through the lockdowns have been older movies that are new to me. I haven't watched movies on PVOD or Premier Accees because I don't want to pay for them while in my bedroom on a small television and also they don't interest me enough to pay for them.

And that's what this movie is, an origin story. It's a Disney live-action adaptation of a beloved Disney villain's origins, sound familiar? That's what fans originally believed Maleficent to be before it became a redemption story of sorts.

Cruella was the villain of One Hundred and One Dalmatians because she wanted to skin puppies to make a coat, but this movie isn't about that, despite there being some excellent foreshadowing and even reworking as a prequel to the original story, this movie is about how Cruella became Cruella, not necessarily how she became a villain but making the character more three-dimensional and layered.

Here, without going into spoilers, we do see the reasoning behind Cruella being the villain we love her for and it is very much a nature vs nurture style of moral, but it isn't done to the detriment of the villainy Cruella is known for.

What Disney and the creatives behind Cruella have done with this movie is not only take note with everything great and bad with the more recent Disney live-action movies and filter out the bad, but also the potential of movies like Maleficent and even Mulan to a degree which failed to live up to their promises creatively, have seemingly been reworked for this origin story.

Does that mean she's not a villain in this movie? Well while she's not the movie's primary antagonist, Cruella stays true to herself and doesn't compromise why fans love the original character, if anything she amplifies why she's such a great character.

Cruella is such a love letter to the 1970s punk rock era while also managing to not just be style over substance but deliver on story and character as well, that I can't imagine anyone having that much of a problem with it.

It's what I would honestly call an artisan's delight, I'm not creative in a fashion sense, I love fashion and it's a reason I connect with Cruella so much, but I couldn't do what she does. I'd possibly be the Artie of her gang if not Horace and honestly I'm okay with that. But the way fashion, music and visual storytelling is used in this movies rivals the 1996 live-action 101 Dalmatians in that sense when scenes largely focused on the dogs selling the scenes without speaking. A picture paints a thousands words and Cruella's eccentric fashions were scene stealers.

It's funny, it's dramatic, it's well acted and directed. The writing is brilliant with maybe one exception with the Baroness which we will discuss in the spoiler review.

Speaking of spoilers. Way back when this movie was first announced I believe in 2016 I was adamantly against it, I thought it was sacrilege and that it would not be a patch on the original movies.

That being said, since seeing that first trailer and that stunning dress reveal I was hooked and have since watched pretty much every single trailer and TV spot this movie could churn out to the point where I feel I saw the entire movie already...but I was wrong.

From the trailers if you think this movie is going to end at a certain point you'd be wrong. I could kinda tell when the movie was going to end based on how the scene was set up, but even then there's more to the story.

I mentioned how this movie foreshadowed to the original One Hundred and One Dalmatians story as a prequel of sorts but also how it rewrote history so to speak, again the mid credits scene blows my mind as a Dalmatians fan and it cries out for a sequel.

However, to sum up, the original 1961 animated One Hundred and One Dalmatians is to this day my favourite movie of all time. Dalmatians are my favourite dog breed despite the fact I currently own a frenchie pug and Cruella De Vil I believe to be my spiritual mother.

Usually in these reactions I'll give a quick recap of my opinions of the movie or franchise the one in question is a part of, but I feel I've spoken about my love of all things Cruella De Vil and One Hundred and One Dalmatians enough in the past to get the point across.

All that being said, I am trying to compartmentalise my thoughts and be unbiased in my opinions for this movie. But honestly if this movie was bad I'd be coming down the hardest out of any critic on it because of what the property means to me personally.

So yes, I am going to big this movie up because pretty much every single element in this movie is 99% perfect. There is room for improvement, but that's where a sequel comes in to not only capitalise but better itself. And keeping the same creative team and bringing back the same cast, I feel this will be the Disney sequel to break the mould just as Cruella is the Disney movie to break the mould

But I have hyped up the lore and the character enough, what do I think of the movie? Well as much as I praised the creatives behind the movie for such a fabulous movie, director Chris Gillespe is partially to blame for how the movie looks. It’s still a visually orgasmic movie in terms of how it portrays its artistic choices, but in terms of those scenes and shots that could’ve been and should’ve been as visually pleasing as the fashion and art shots, just don’t leave as striking and lasting an impression as those shots and scenes.

Cast:

Honestly upon the announcement, to the point where I made a rant session post about it, Emma Stone as Cruella just didn’t land with me upon said announcement. However, as I said since seeing the first trailer, Emma Stone is young Cruella for me.

Glenn Close for me is Cruella De Vil in live-action. Victoria Smurfit on Once Upon a Time was fabulous but in opinion an elseworlds version of Cruella because she had magic and her story wasn’t really in line with the source material. Now, without spoilers but because it’s an origin you kinda can guess, Emma Stone’s version isn’t really in line with the source material either and up until seeing the movie I was all for viewing this version as an elseworlds story. even after seeing it I am all for viewing it as an elseworlds story from the original source material.

But does that mean it’s bad? No it’s just different. As I said earlier this is definitely a more fleshed out three-dimensional version of the Cruella that the original animated version and Glenn Close’s adaptation delivered, but honestly I’m excited to know where this Cruella goes from after seeing this movie. This is my favourite Emma Stone performance to date.

As for the other Emma, Emma Thompson as the Baroness, well she and Stone’s Cruella not only capitalize on Meryl Streep’s The Devil Wears Prada performance, but also adds that extra layer that make both characters not only believable as people but also villains. There’s no mistaking Thompson’s Baroness is a villain, but she does it in the best way and has never looked more fantastic doing so.

This movie also humanizes Jasper and Horace for me, I’m still unsure as to their relationship, if they’re friends or brothers, but based on the fact Jasper is race-bent in this movie and Hotace is still caucasian I’m going with not. However, without spoilers, based on how they meet Cruella I’m in favour of them not being related and simply lost souls coming together. But yeah they’re both funny, you believe they’re Jasper and Horace there’s no thinking one should be the other, and the chemistry between Jasper and Cruella is so electric that it demands a pay off in a sequel and actually speaks to a problem I know some male fans (including me) may actually have with Cruella as a character.

The other biggest breakout in this movie is John McCrea as Artie, who is not only Disney’s first clearly openly LGBT character but a scene-stealer in every shot that he is in. I said I would probably be Artie or Horace in Cruella’s gang and I stand by that because I think Artie is who I’d want to be (aside from Cruella herself) but Horace is physically who I would be.

Then as for the side characters, the movie does an interesting turn on the Anita/Roger origin story, Mark Strong as the Alonzo substitute is mysterious and brilliant, and the dogs are again scene stealers. Aside from 3 dalmatians (who are still alive at the end) there are two completely original new dogs who are part of Cruella’s gang and whether or not it’s because I’m a dog lover and own a dog or just because of the dog’s direction, they just pull focus every scene and make the characters more sympathetic because of how they interact with them.

Is this a knockout movie? Unfortunately no, I feel mistakes are made that leave holes for trolls to swoop in, however, I don’t think they should/ Honestly uou cannot make the “live-action” The Lion King a billion dollar flick and then complain about this movie, this is original, brilliant and 95% well executed. Yes I’ve dropped from 99 and we will discuss the issues in the spoiler review.

Recommendation:

But honestly this movie is worth the watch, it deserves the watch. As for seeing it in cinemas vs. Disney+, I could say it’s worth the £20/$30, but to get a true feel of some of the bigger and better artistic scenes it demands a big screen viewing. Also support local cinemas and all that jazz.

So that’s my non-spoiler review for Cruella, what did you guys think? Post your comments and stay tuned for my spoiler review hopefully coming soon, meanwhile you can check out other Movie Reviews and posts.

[thebigqueer]

Sunlight

(Credit for the characters goes to Jeffrey Eugenides, author of Middlesex)

The summer heat has been unbearably warm, so weighted with temperature that it has forced us down onto our knees in the grass. A beam of sunlight fans over our faces, illuminating our scars and stories.

Obscure Object’s body absorbs the sunlight, and it makes her glow from within. The golden light threads itself into her red locks, creating a wall of fire that cascades down her back. She is one with the sun. I would not be surprised if she were to tell me that she was a creation of Apollo, cast down from Olympus because her beauty was too much for the gods to fathom. She could replace Aphrodite herself.

Obscure Object turns her face to me, letting a strand of fire slip over her ear and across her face. A smile eases over her lips. Her tan shoulder flashes in the sunlight. “It seriously sucks that you have to go to Greece,” she murmurs, her voice pouring over me like molten gold. “I want to take you to my summer house. We could have so much fun.” She leans into me, and against her lips I see the promise of a secret. Her mouth grazes my ear as she whispers, “And my parents won’t be around as often. Parties and stuff. We could sneak in all the booze we want.” And, as an afterthought, she adds, “Also, boys.”

I laugh and throw some dirt at her. She screeches. “Your parents are already out most of the time, and you drink more booze than any fourteen-year-old should,” I tell her, tipping my chin to the dark bottle in her right hand for emphasis.

She scoffs and takes another sip. Obscure Object is a graceful creature - every move she makes is on purpose. As her pink lips pucker against the rim of the bottle, I can only think that the booze is being sucked up for an important reason. It’s her mission. She must accomplish it.

And, for a second, a spark of jealousy bursts in my core. I want to be the bottle. I want to be the drink she sips from. I want her lips against me.

She hands the bottle to me but I shake my head and she takes it back, placing it gently at her side. “God, Callie, you need to loosen up a bit. We’re going to high school. Everyone does it.”

“Maybe you’re just a part of the herd.”

“Herd? Did you just compare me to a cow?”

“Moo.”

Now it’s her turn to throw dirt in my face. Specks of brown fly in the air as she lurches towards me, but the alcohol makes her sluggish. Her body pushes with all its might and her red hair flies, creating a halo over her hair, but I’m already three feet away from her before it hits me. She scowls in my direction, and I respond by sticking my tongue out. She groans and turns back, whipping her hair behind her. It flashes in the light again. I wonder how it doesn’t burn her as it touches down against her back once more.

I scoot over, finding that the distance between us is too much. Obscure Object’s bare shoulder brushes against mine, spreading its warmth to me. Electricity dances between us where she touches me, and I feel as though Zeus himself has struck me with a lightning bolt. I would not be surprised if he did.

Her golden fingers gingerly push her hair away from her face. Once again I am in the glory of her beauty: the freckles, the light eyes and the eyebrows. Being so close to her I can see that her face isn’t quite as symmetrical as I thought - an uneven eyebrow dances over her forehead, and I realize that she is not as perfect as I thought she was.

Which makes her even more human to me. Even more attainable.

Her eyes bear over my own face, searching across each and every crater of my skin. First my eyes, then my nose. Next my ears, my chin, my cheeks, my lips. Finally over my dark hair. She smiles again and reaches over clumsily, almost falling over my body. Her fingers graze over my dark strands. “Callie, you have such pretty hair.”

“That’s not what my parents tell me. It’s usually in my face.”

“Yeah, it is. But it’s still pretty. Like… you don’t really care.” Her fingers push my hair away from my face, and now I’m getting a clear view of her. A ripple of shock washes over me as I realize how close we are. Merely inches away from crashing into her. “But you have an even prettier face.”

“I wouldn’t really say that,” I say bashfully, turning my eyes away from her.

“I would. It’s, like, dramatic. In my face. But in a good way.” For a second, I let her words soak into my skin, allowing the warmth of them to seep into my ears. But then she takes another sip of her booze, and ice drips over me, cooling down all my systems. How do I know she means any of this when she’s getting drunk right in front of my eyes?

Her fingers detach from my hair and lay in her lap, but her eyes never leave my face. They continue digging deeper, deeper, looking into my organs, my mind, my body, searching for some secret identity. I wonder if she’s found out about me even before I’ve discovered me.

She sighs and takes another sip. The glass clashes with her teeth for a second, then she places it down again. Her eyelids flutter. “Callie, have you ever wondered what it’s like to kiss a girl?”

Now I know she’s drunk. She would never speak so openly like this, not if she were sober. Sometimes I can’t tell which version of Obscure Object is better - her dazed and doped version, or her sober and sophisticated one. When she’s like this, she becomes more free, more unlatched from the world. She becomes a new entity all together, not quite human. A new, free spirit, untethered from her mind and body and no longer in control of her actions. Reckless.

A warm blush bleeds over my cheeks. “Well, I have. When I was eight.”

She nods, but I can tell from her dazed eyes that she’s barely processing that information. “I’ve always wondered. Do you think it’s any different than with a boy?”

I consider her question, weighing my answer in my mind. “Well, maybe not. Are boys and girls so different? Aren’t we all human? Why does gender matter? All that should matter is who you’re into. I guess if you’re into girls, you’re going to like to kiss girls more.”

“Do you care if someone’s into girls, Callie?”

“Not really, no. It’s love. Why should I care?”

As she interrogates me, a bubble of hope grows in my chest. What is she saying? Is she admitting something to me?

“Interesting,” she murmurs, still staring at me. Her eyes drop down to my lips again, and I can see the gears turning in her head, considering her options. She’s calculating her next move.

She tilts her head. “Can I kiss you?”

Obscure Object doesn't’ give me a qualifier; she doesn’t say “just for fun” or “just for practice.” She only says “Can I kiss you,” as if there is no shame in doing so. A flash of light bursts in my brain, and my chest blooms with warmth. Can she kiss you, Callie?

“Yes,” I whisper.

And she leans into me, pushing her burdens into my arms. Her tan arms dangle over my neck sloppily, as if she can’t even bother to sit up. Hesitance lingers in the air, burning my skin, angering my soul. Come on. Tell me you feel the same.

Then her lips crash into mine, and the world explodes around us. I gently glide my arm over her waist and pull us into a better posture, if only to make it easier to feel her, to touch her, to be in her arms. The heat of her body scorches my skin, almost like a branding. I am no one’s but hers.

And soon we find a rhythm, dancing to a silent song. Her lips touch mine softly at first, feeling the territory, and then she dives into the ocean, ready for whatever storms are going to come. Lightning strikes my body; electricity sparks in my fingers. I’m bursting, overflowing, feeling. I want more, more, more. I want to soak her up, drink her in like alcohol, be the smoke that she drags.

Her soft lips fit perfectly into mine. Pink on pink, passion on passion. We’re quiet here in her backyard, and I suppose that’s expected - we are not meant to be known to the world, not meant to be ourselves. So we must hide in secrecy, bathe in our solitude. The world does not want us, but that doesn’t matter when we want each other.

She pushes against me, her stomach on my own, chest against chest, arm against arm. We’re melting into each other, becoming a new being all together. Our molecules separate and join again, connecting our bodies together. We are Hermaphroditus and Salmacis, becoming one body, one being, breathing to a single lung, beating to the same heart. I know her. I feel her. I am her.

Then, it all stops. A block of ice forms in my chest as she pulls away, and now I’m alone again, alone in my own body, my own mind. We are no longer one. We are separate. We are too far.

A dazed smile creeps over her features and her eyelashes flutter in the golden sunlight. “That was fun. I’m tired now.”

And with that said - without even waiting for a reply from me - she lies over the grass. The sun’s rays spill over her, golden spots glimmering over her body. A small pink smile pulls at her lips, but after a few moments, her breathing becomes steadier and the smile flashes away, giving way to her dreamscape.

And I am alone again, forced to deal with the crushing pain once more. The pain of knowing that she may never feel the way I do, may never understand the things she does to me.

The light catches against her hair once more, creating a halo of fire around her head. It burns bright against the green grass. I edge my finger closer, closer, and the flames lick against my fingertips. She is on fire. She is burning me up, turning me to ashes.

Memory is a funny thing. Two people can go through the very same experience, but one may just not ever remember it happening. Memory is subjective, and only some people have the gift of it.

Unfortunately, this means that between my sober self and her drunken being, I will carry the weight of the memory.

She will not remember our kiss when she wakes up; she will not even remember that we are made for each other. For the moment, I am her lover, but in a few hours, I will once again be her best friend.

So I lie beside her. If I only have the next few hours to pretend I am her lover, her muse, then so be it. As long as I don’t have to hide anymore.

We can be together, just for a few hours. Just for a little bit.

[gumnut-logic]

Reactions (Bit 2)

Bit 1 | Bit 2

This is Fandomversary 2020 Fic Three - Bit 2. And guess what? It is at least a three chapter story. ::headdesk:: I knew this was going to happen.

This is for @soniabigcheese​​ who asked for Gordon and Bedlam. That’s where it started…it seems to want to go in directions I hadn’t planned.

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight​​ and @scribbles97​​ for all their wonderful help with this fic (and always).

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

Fortunately or unfortunately, it took the trip to the police station before their identities were discovered.

The police chief was dragged from her office. She was a short woman, probably in her fifties with eyes that had seen far too much. She looked Virgil and Gordon up and down, stared at their ID and set her shoulders.

“Don’t expect special treatment here. The law is the law. Money does not let you escape it.” She handed their ID back to the duty officer. “Process and book them just like the others. Maybe they’ll learn something.” She turned her back to them and disappeared into her office.

Virgil stared after her with an aching face. A glance at his brother found a Gordon explosion in the making.

“Gords.”

Those russet brown eyes darted in his direction and Virgil shook his head just once.

The aquanaut’s lips thinned to almost nonexistence, but his shoulders settled. He still turned to the officer, however. “At least can we please have some medical attention for my brother?”

“After processing.”

And they were fingerprinted and genetically identified. The database churned out Gordon’s military record and two brushes with the law as a teenager.

Dad had been so angry both times.

Kind of like what Scott was going to be in a short period of time.

Virgil didn’t have a police record. All his liaisons with the law had been as an International Rescue operative. The database was pedantic and churned out a list of all the incident files he had been a signatory on.

It was a long list.

At least some respect appeared in the officer’s eyes at the math of how many people had been saved by the two men standing in front of him.

Regardless, they were searched. Gordon’s pocket knife was confiscated and Virgil watched sadly as they packed away the brand new piano string he had bought on the way in to town. What was worse was his favourite multitool, which lived in his left boot, went with it. Gordon frowned at the sight of it.

Holograms were taken and they were escorted to a cell, fortunately one that only contained the two of them. There, finally, Virgil was able to let his shoulders drop and lean back against the cool brickwork and let out a breath.

“Sorry, Virg.”

A slow blink. “Had to be done.” A sigh and he reached for his collar. “Thunderbird Two to Tracy Island.”

“Tracy Island, how goes those steaks, Virg?”

He pressed his lips together and his cheek complained. “Could be better.”

Scott picked up his tone of voice immediately. “What’s wrong?”

He really didn’t want to ruin his brother’s mood. Another sigh. “Got into a fight. Been arrested.”

There was total silence at the other end of the line. “You’ve been arrested?”

“Yes, and Virgil was punched in the face!”

That face glared at his little brother. “I’m fine, Scott, but we need bail.”

More silence.

Shit.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” The line cut dead.

Virgil slumped against the wall.

“Fifteen? He’s not using One is he?”

A sigh. “Yes, he is.”

“Virgil, report.” John’s voice was sharp and Gordon rolled his eyes.

Virgil held up a hand, stopping Gordon from adding to the mess. “We’re in jail, John, as you have no doubt scanned thoroughly. Tell Eos to be subtle this time.”

“Excuse me, Virgil, it wasn’t my fault last time.” Her voice was even sharper than John’s and it rattled his headache.

“One word, Eos…popcorn.”

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“She was just trying to help, Virgil.” Okay, so he had stepped on his brother’s ‘daddy toes’.

He touched a finger gingerly to his bruised cheek. “Whatever. Just do what you can to stem the tide of paparazzi.”

A sigh. “FAB.” Pause. “You still haven’t given me your report.”

“Virg has a shiner in the making. Needs an x-ray of his cheek bone. That asshole hit him hard.”

Virgil glared at Gordon and paid for it when it pulled at his injured face.

“Grandma has been notified.”

Shit. Could this day get any worse? He had only wanted to relax for a couple hours.

“Scott’s en route.” Was he imagining a hint of apology in his space brother’s tone? There was certainly enough concern.

“I’m fine, John. Just need to get out of here.”

“Help is on the way.”

His only answer was a grunt.

-o-o-o-

Scott was punctual as usual. There was no missing the roar of One’s engines as she caused a traffic hazard outside the building.

Virgil, who had been nagged to lie down by a persistent aquanaut, pushed himself upright at the sound.

Gordon was rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Now we get to see some action.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and regretted it. Another poke and prod revealed some nasty swelling. He must look a sight.

Scott was going to be unbearable.

It was another five minutes after the cooling of rocket engines out in the street before their cell door was flung open.

The situation was worse than expected.

Virgil stared, still sitting down on the bed, as his grandmother hurried into the room.

Oh, shit.

He had the briefest glance of a concerned Scott before their grandmother was in front of him.

“Virgil, oh honey.” Her fingers took his chin as she studied his injury.

“I’m okay, Grandma.”

“We’ll see.” And with the flick of a purple wrist, out came a medical scanner, its yellow light flickering over his face. He flinched away. “Hold still, honey. Just a moment, I promise.”

He felt like a five-year-old.

“Gordon, report.” Scott’s voice was sharp and so military, Virgil could hear Gordon’s spine crack into attention. What followed was a concise and accurate report of the fight. Virgil was surprised at how much his little brother had absorbed amongst the bedlam.

“Your cheek bone is not broken, but you’ve got a doozy of a contusion there, honey. Lots of bed rest and chicken soup for you.”

Great. Just great.

He hoped the soup was from a can.

Another voice echoed down the corridor. A firm and sharp stream of legal terms that definitely did not sound good for anyone who wasn’t a Tracy.

“You brought Jack?”

Scott’s attention switched to Virgil. He shrugged. “He’s our lawyer. You’re in jail. Seemed pertinent.”

“In fifteen minutes?”

“He got a ride in Thunderbird One.”

Virgil snorted. “Was that a reward or a punishment?”

“He seemed to enjoy it.”

Jack Dunning was their family lawyer and considering their occupation, he earned every cent the Tracys threw at him. Short, dumpy and balding, the man was raking the police chief over the coals as they arrived at the door of the cell.

One glance at Virgil and Jack turned back to the chief and ripped her an extra one about his medical condition.

“We called the medical attendant.” Her words were defensive and much less the sure person they had met before.

“So, you’re telling me, International Rescue could respond faster from halfway around the world than you could find a local doctor? Considering the amount of swelling, Mr Tracy could quite easily have a concussion, broken cheek bone, possibly internal bleeding. Why was he not seen to?”

“We were in the process of-“

Jack ignored her and prodded his tablet.

“What about the other participants? Your report mentions that there was some loss of consciousness. Have these men been attended to?”

“The severity of their injuries called for it, yes. Procedure-“

“Then why was Mr Tracy neglected?”

“He was not. The medical attendant was on his way.”

“So, International Rescue can respond faster.” He poked his tablet some more.

“Look, I don’t know how you rich types expect to be treated, but in this police station everyone is treated fairly and equally.”

“You better hope so.” Jack’s tone was final and spoke of an investigation in the future.

“Okay, boys, time to go home.” Grandma really was the real commander on the team. It was proven by the fact Scott did not hesitate to obey.

“Gordon, you have Thunderbird Two. Virgil, you’re riding with me.”

“Really?” So, it came out whiney and petulant. Big deal.

“There is no way you are flying with that injury, young man.” Grandma tugged him to his feet.

“I’m fine, Grandma. It’s just a bruise. You said so yourself.”

“Forget it, Virgil.” Scott’s tone was final and spoke of future discussions on the topic.

Okay, so Grandma being here was a temporary distraction from the words Scott had no doubt were loaded up and ready to be fired his way.

Time for a pre-emptive strike. “We were in the right, Scott.”

“I’m aware of that, Virgil. Time to go.” Scott ushered Gordon ahead, gently took Virgil’s arm and led him from the holding cell.

A glance at those pursed lips made it very clear that as predicted, Scott was pissed.

An internal sigh.

This was not going to be fun.

-o-o-o-

Next

[deathduty]

The Giving Tree || Solo

TIMMING: Monday, November 30th (following The River Styx is High & Wide) LOCATION: Mirrored district CONTENT: discussion of Lydia’s humans SUMMARY: Only fae can understand each other. Only fae can grieve each other. Only fae can save each other.

When Deirdre woke, she was on her back, staring at a wheelbarrow. Beside her, and in her ears, the high-pitched clamoring of pixies echoed across the vastness. I think you’re supposed to put the disinfectant on first, one said. No way! It’s BDSM—bandage, disinfectant, sticker, massage, another hissed. That’s not what that word means, a voice she recognized as Sundew’s—a pixie she didn’t like and one that didn’t like her—chimed in. We have stickers? 

Deirdre appreciated the wheelbarrow; it was black, dirt-stained and, most importantly, not bickering amongst itself. It provided a simple mystery and a rivetingly mundane story. She was peering into its interior, now empty, though it appeared to have once been filled with mud, and beside it was a stack of red buckets, which appeared to have once been filled with water. A few feet away was a mound in the upside-down soil, poking right up at her. She wanted to imagine that a body had been buried there, but the mound was too small, and she’d be able to tell anyway. 

She turned her head to find grey sky and lazy-rolling, swollen clouds sprawled underneath her. A thick fog claimed the distance, forbidding her to see beyond the bubble of her new space. If she were any more like a wheelbarrow, she would’ve thought she was dead. Unfortunately for Deirdre, she was the furthest thing from a wheelbarrow. 

The pixies continued to bicker around her, bickering between themselves about which cream they were supposed to apply, and which way bandages were meant to be wrapped. No, Deirdre wasn’t dead. Even hell wouldn’t be this bad. “I want to go home,” she groaned, “take me home.”

The pixies froze, dropping gauze and letting it unspool and run away. Three pixies chased after it, Sundew remained. “You’re awake!” She squeed, zipping into Deirdre’s sight. “We didn’t know how to check your pulse at first, and then it was soooo slow that we got bored! So we just assumed that you were still alive and started playing doctor. But not in the sexy way, in the doctor way.” 

“Home,” she said again, foolishly hoping repetition would get her point across. Why was she alive anyway? It wasn’t to be fawned about by pixies, was it? The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in a burning building—a demise of her own design. For all she knew, she was supposed to be dead. She hadn’t screamed, but what else ever happened to someone who fell asleep during a fire? She thought the whole thing might have been a dream, but she could feel each injury Athena levelled against her burning with ferocity—her wrists, her arm, her abdomen. Of course a warden would hurt a fae like this. What was she thinking? She should be dead. Now she was alive to hear Sundew; both a just punishment and an unbelievably cruel one. “I have to go home.” 

“You can’t!” Sundew smiled; she found nothing wrong with her statement. “We just called a doctor over, and we need you to—“

“If you called a doctor, then why are you bandaging me?” 

“Well, you see, it started like this: your cù-sìth found you dying by a tree, and then it alerted some gnomes who told a brownie who knew a foireaux cat who was travelling with a leshy who then carried you to us! So, we got a spriggan to steal us some medical supplies but then we realized that we didn’t know what we needed to do with them and the only doctor I know of is in the mirrored district so we got a stack of leprechauns to help us bring you here!”

Deirdre was silent for a moment. “That isn’t what I asked you.”

“Your face isn’t what I asked you.” 

“I need to go home.” Deirdre said curtly. She groaned and heaved and tried to right herself, but for all her effort, her body resisted. Searing pain blazed from more parts of her body than she cared to count, and when the effects grew too great, they seized her vision and her mind and set in a spell of monochromatic lightheadedness. Deirdre fell back down, clutching at her side. “I can’t be here,” she repeated herself, this time with the hope saying it enough would make it true--like Dorothy clicking her red shoes together--there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home. “Take me home.” 

“I can’t do that!” Sundew grew quiet as Deirdre turned paler, “you’re dying! And you need to wait for the doctor and we need you.” She fluttered down and sat on the tip of Deirdre’s nose. “You know, a lot of fae got together to bring you here, and not just because you’re fae--and of course we’d do that--but because we made something and we need you to check on it.” Sundew, though possessed of a brain magically condensed to the size of an almond, was more astute than her peers. She didn’t know Deirdre well enough, and she certainly didn’t like her, but there was one thread that connected all fae. And no, she didn’t mean mushrooms. Or nudity. Or, strangely, pie. 

“It’s for Lydia,” she said and predictably, Deirdre’s argument died against her tongue. 

“Morgan,” she said, speaking swiftly before the equally predictable ‘what the jiggly boob is a Morgan?’ “My girlfriend. You need to send her a message. You have to tell her I’m okay. And I’m alive. And I’m here and---”

As Deirdre listed her suggestions-turned-commands--directions on what to say and how to word it, that they should definitely explain the magnitude of her love, offer brain muffins, and perhaps a diagram to show how okay she really was--Sundew looked at the other pixies, who’d come back panting from their adventure chasing the runaway gauze. She shrugged and shot them the kind of look that said you heard her and they shot her back one that said what the jiggly boob is a Morgan? 

“We’ll get it done, Deirdre,” Sundew nodded, leaving three confused pixies to figure it out. They didn’t question or argue the order in the same way none of the fae down the chain of Deirdre’s transportation to the mirrored district questioned that. They were fae, she was fae, this was what fae did for each other. That itself was not a profound thought to Deirdre, or any fae, but often the kindness of their gestures for each other could be forgotten. 

Deirdre didn’t think highly of whatever she was going to be whisked off to see. Knowing the pixies, it was probably a macaroni and entrails portrait of Lydia. But that was a simple thought.

And the pixies weren’t much like the wheelbarrow either. 

*

Lydia was divisive even among the fae. Many of those gathered in attendance thought her practices were a little too brazen, even for them. Deirdre recognized a few who scoffed at mention of her basement, and others who claimed that humans ought not to be kept like that. They stood beside those that agreed to varying degrees--completely, partly, indifferently. Each had gathered here, and each had a hand in creating the monument in front of Deirdre. 

Deirdre looked between them, having been rendered to tears at the sight of what they’d done. And then to her knees. “You--” She quivered, unable to finish the rest of her sentence.

“We used the ash you gave us,” Sundew explained quietly. Deirdre nodded; she knew. She could feel it. 

The tree was a hauntingly beautiful thing. A tall structure with twisting porcelain wood--natural and unnatural in the same stroke. She ran her fingers across its smooth grooves, staring up at the symmetrical branches and their striking red flowers. It was a minimalist cherry blossom tree, and everything Lydia would have liked. The necropolis was filled with beautiful trees of all designs; tall, short, golden, black, barren and lush. When she’d come here for the first time with Lydia, she never imagined the leanan-sidhe would end up among its ranks. She was saddened and happy all at once--there could be no reclamation for the dirty alley she’d died in, but she could be remembered in beauty. 

“It’ll grow bigger,” Sundew said, twitching nervously in the sky when Deirdre had offered no opinion to the gathered crowd other than crying. “It’ll be the tallest tree here.” 

“This isn’t even her aos sí--” Deirdre said.

“We know,” another fae spoke up. “But she’s one of us, just like everyone else. No matter where she goes, where she lived.” 

“Do you like it? Is it okay for her?” Sundew twitched again. 

Deirdre turned back to the crowd, finding them all watching her expectantly. There was the spriggan who called Lydia’s shoes tacky once. There was the nymph that gossiped incessantly about Lydia’s character after her death. Yet, Deirdre was not insulted by their presence. They were fae. It didn’t occur to them not to mourn Lydia, not to think she was deserving of more than what she received. They wished her life back, no matter how it was lived. The same way they did for every fae. It was the nature of them. The way of their community. No human would ever understand this.

“I miss her,” Deirdre confessed quietly. “I can’t say I agree with everything--sometimes that makes me feel like a bad friend--but nothing worse than...letting her die. I failed her, I did that. I promised her a good death, and I couldn’t even give her that. And now I’m--what am I doing? I nearly let a warden kill me, all for some morsel of justice.” She glanced back at the tree. When she offered a leprechaun’s handful of ashes to them, she hadn’t imagined it would be used for anything. Now it was a tree. And there was still enough ash left to do more for her. To give her the death she couldn’t have in life. “I think she wanted to be beautiful, I think she wanted to be perfect.” Deirdre paused. “I miss her.”

The spriggan was the first to speak up. She wished she’d gotten to know Lydia better; a few fae mumbled in agreement. Another said they’d never agreed with her, but they missed her too. One said it was all okay, and it wasn’t fair--it wasn’t. Another wished he knew her at all, he wished he’d said hello at least once. 

“I wish it was different,” Sundew said, fluttering to Deirdre’s side. “For you too.” 

“She told me she’d made mistakes. She told me she didn’t know how to set them right, she told me she didn’t know if she could.” Deirdre closed her eyes. “I wanted justice for her so badly...I wanted pain...I wanted something. I loved her, and no one understands what this hole is like.”

The fae grew silent, looking between them. “We understand,” Sundew said after a moment.

A sob rattled around in Deirdre's throat. “You do.” She stood and plucked a flower from the tree, twirling it in her hands. She watched the black dipped edges swirl into a vortex of color. “What have I been doing for her? What have I done to remember her?” Murder of innocents? Some failed justice? Where was her tree, the one she could make for Lydia? “I-I can set things right. I can do that for her. I can do what she was robbed of the chance to do. I can live for her. I can do that. I can do this.” 

But her determination was short-lived under her injuries and fatigue. She fell to her knees again, bowing her head into the flower, crying against its petals. “I am tired of hurting people,” she said. “I’ve got nothing to show for it and I’m tired and I miss her.”

The fae looked between each other again, and one by one sat down beside the sobbing banshee until they were all on the sky-floor. They were fae, and they missed her too.  

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on Even More Games

[vague, unspecific spoilers for Heaven’s Vault, Later Alligator, and Life is Strange 2]

Thoughts on Heaven’s Vault

Heaven’s Vault is a game about archeology, which means it’s also a game about incompleteness. This is very clever. Inkle - also the developers of 80 Days, which I will play someday! - specialize in deep narratives that can be explored many, many ways, allowing for a lot of player choice. You make a lot of small decisions - do you share a discovery with the trader in exchange for a valuable item, or hide it so he doesn’t plunder it? do you go looking for your missing friend, or let her stay missing in case there are people trying to follow you to her? These all have their own little arcs and resolutions, and there are so many of them, and so many ways they can play out, that the game can never be played the same way twice. The overall story begins and ends in the same place and theoretically hits the same major beats, but the journey is tailored broadly and finely to each player; it’s a style of design Aaron A. Reed refers to as “not... a branching tree but a braided rope.”

Making a narrative about archeology is how you dodge the exponentially complicated nature of that design: if there are dozens of locations, characters, plot threads, bits of color, which can be engaged with at many points in time, or ignored, or dropped by the player halfway through, how do you avoid telling a story full of gaps and dead ends? Well... you don’t. Having only partial information and having to infer the rest is what archeology is.

The protagonist of Heaven’s Vault, Aliya, is digging up the secrets of an ancient civilization, having been sent by her academy to find a researcher who’s gone missing, and stumbling into his incredible discovery. Everywhere she goes, there are holes: she has partial understanding of the researcher’s journey and motives; he, in turn, had partial understanding of the mystery he was uncovering, and Aliya has only fragments of his knowledge; the ancient texts she translates are usually fragments of larger works, and she is guessing at the meanings of many of the words; the game’s constantly updating historical timeline has entire centuries with nothing but question marks. Aliya arrives in a new location and wonders aloud to her robot companion about what this place was, when it was founded, when it was abandoned, how her predecessor found his way her and where he went next and what he took with him.

The constant feeling of discovery - of unearthing - is magnificent. Site after site, I asked, “What is this place?” Always thinking, if the eventual answer is any good, this is going to be one of the best games I’ve ever played. And, in the end, it doesn’t give you an answer, it just give you enough to make the story feel complete. It answers by not answering.

Also, translating alien texts is just extremely my jam. I’m the weirdo who enjoyed the ending of Arrival but secretly wished the whole movie had been about xenolinguistics like the first half. I guess Inkle felt similar.

The game’s by no means perfect. I think I enjoyed the sailing between worlds more than most - it’s slow, but very pretty - but it’s going to discourage a replay. I don’t think the relationship between Aliya and her robot, Six, ever gets terribly interesting. Some of the archeology is a little too obviously game-y - sail around, wait to find a random ruin, beam Six down to grab an ancient doodad, translate a bit of text, lo and behold it’s from one of the sites you’re looking for and it’s narrowed your search radius somehow. (It gives Star Trek explanations the first few times - e.g. “it has radiation that only exists in one part of the nebula” - and then stops bothering.) And the game sags a little in the middle; it could’ve hacked out 3 or 4 dig sites and still given me the same experience.

But, all told, there’s magic in it, and it just feels good to be there. Do not sleep on this one.

Thoughts on Later Alligator

There’s not a ton to say about this game except that is charming as hell. Lindsay and Alex Small-Butera have build a beautifully animated world of cute alligators, one of whom is having a birthday party where he’s convinced he’s going to be murdered. He wants you to run around getting information out of everyone who’s going to be there, which you get by completing minigames. It’s a cast of weird and funny characters with weird and funny dialogue and there’s not much more to it than that.

The design can be a little frustrating. Some minigames, if you lose, you don’t get to try again. Some are annoyingly finicky. You need to complete them all to get the true ending, which means, in my case, playing the game three times to complete all the bits you missed or got locked out of. The ending was a little different each time, so it wasn’t a total wash, but the game’s on a timer that only advances when you play a game or take the bus, and once you’ve completed most of the games there’s a lot of traveling back and forth from one nowhere to another just to advance time to the next unskippable plot beat.

(It’s also a little unclear what you’re missing as you try to get the final ending, as some of the ongoing puzzle are optional.)

But I can’t get mad. The game is too damn cute! Each character is lively and unique, with tons of personality, and the dialogue is just clever enough not to fall into empty adorkability.

It good.

Thoughts on Life is Strange 2

Somewhere, early in the development of Life is Strange 2, some Dontnod employee wrote in a design document “Episode 4 - cult?” (but in French) and nobody told them “no.”

I will not forgive them for this,

After twenty minutes of LiS2, I was ready to yell at everyone who had reported it was boring. It has one of the most powerful, gut-punching openings of any game I’ve played in recent memory. And all through the first, second, and third episodes, I was in love. Unlike Before the Storm, this was its own creature, willing to make dramatic departures from the original game’s template. Instead of controlling a character with supernatural powers, you play as the superpowered character’s older brother. The one with the magic is a 9-year-old, unable to fully understand or control his abilities, suffering a recent trauma, and needing to be guided through a dangerous and racist world. All the ambition missing from Before the Storm is back, and this time the animation isn’t creepy and the writing is wildly improved (thanks to some journeyman script work from Fullbright’s Steve Gaynor) and I even have a computer able to play it on higher graphical settings.

But nothing good lasts.

Everything good about the series screeches to a halt in Episode 4, the one where some asshole said “cult?” and didn’t get a Nerf football thrown at their head. And it’s not just that it’s a terrible idea; it’s actually sort of amazing how much the game relies on an alchemy of plot, tone, theme, and writing, and how a slight imbalance can throw the whole thing off. Episode 4 has scene after scene that are powerful in their conception - brothers reunited after a violent rift; a boy having his first conversation with his estranged mother in nearly a decade; getting interrogated by the feds for a crime that can’t even be explained by physics - fall flat because the writers can’t think of anything interesting for the characters to say. (Steve Gaynor’s name stops appearing in the credits as of this episode.)

And here the game’s rickety bits, kept delicately together for three episodes, start to shake apart. Dontnod’s overly-earnest voice direction, which I didn’t notice in the early episodes, started to wear me down. (”Could you sigh mid-syllable, like you’re slightly overwhelmed with emotion?” “Sure, on which line?” “All of them.”) The thinness of the secondary characters, most of whom pop up for one episode and disappear, became more noticeable. The lack of a mechanical hook like the time rewinding of the original game, and the attendant commentary on choice-based games and power fantasies, made the game feel less substantial. The surreal imagery of the original, obligatorily evoked in the prequel, is sensibly absent, but there’s nothing equally striking that replaces it. Even the branching path decisions become less clear: the end-of-episode stat screens for the final episodes mentioned at least a dozen choices I didn’t even know I’d made, some of which were critical in shaping my younger brother’s morality and were not necessarily the choices I’d have made if I’d known I was making a choice at all.

Come the final episode, I got An Ending that seemed right for the way I’d played, but much of the way I’d played felt accidental.

So what are we to make of this? Life is Strange is a beautiful disaster, an ambitious disaster, where Life is Strange 2 is almost less interesting for being  more competent. It has a huge mess of charged topics - American racism, teens losing their virginity, raising a child outside the nuclear family, grief and trauma - and, while it handles them without the gracelessness and sledgehammer subtlety of the original, it doesn’t come to any conclusions about any of them. LiS1, for all its jank, had some opinions, where LiS2 falls into the category of “this sure is some shit, innit?” games.

It starts with a powerful premise, deeply relatable characters, fine writing, beautiful art, but can’t even manage, in the end, to be a disaster. It is the only game in the series so far to be forgettable.

[shemakesmusic-uk]

After releasing their album Play With Fire last year via Suicide Squeeze Records, Californian punk trio L.A. Witch are sharing a new video for their standout track 'Motorcycle Boy'. Speaking about the video, L.A. Witch singer and guitarist Sade Sanchez said "The song is inspired by Moto Boys like Mickey Rourke, Marlon Brando, and Steve McQueen, so of course we took a lot of inspiration from our favorite biker movies like The Wild One, Rumble Fish, On any Sunday, Easy Rider, Hells Angeles '69 and The Girl on a Motorcycle. I had worked with (director) Ambar Navarro and Max on another project and loved their other work, so we wanted to work with them on this. They definitely did their homework and came up with a cool story line. I got to feature my bike that I'd been rebuilding during the pandemic. It was nice to shoot a video where you get to do two of your favorite things, riding motorcycles and play guitar."

Margo Price has shared a new music video for 'Hey Child', said to be the heart and “centerpiece” of her acclaimed 2020 album That’s How Rumors Get Started. It’s directed by Kimberly Stuckwisch. In the moving visual, the country star confronts the demons of her past. There are scenes referencing the time she spent in jail for substance abuse, as well as others depicting her struggles with addiction and depression. Price’s vulnerability is on full display here, and she ultimately uses it to heal and find strength again. Watch it down below. According to Price, 'Hey Child' was originally written back in 2012 “not long after my husband Jeremy and I lost our son Ezra.” She continued, noting how fellow country star and album producer Sturgill Simpson helped encourage her to release it: “'Hey Child' was a song that was written back in 2012 not long after my husband Jeremy and I lost our son Ezra. We were playing shows with our rock and roll band Buffalo Clover and occupying most of the bars in East Nashville. We had begun hanging with a rowdy group of degenerate musician friends and partying harder than The Rolling Stones…The song was about how many of our talented friends were drinking and partying their talents away but after a few years had passed, we realized it was just as much about us as our friends. I had retired it when the band broke up but Sturgill Simpson resurrected it when he asked me if I would re-record it for That’s How Rumors Get Started.” [via Consequence of Sound]

NYC collective MICHELLE has today unveiled their first new single of 2021. Titled 'FYO,' the track powerfully recounts the four lead singers’ experiences growing up with mixed race identities. The track arrives alongside a music video directed by the band’s own Layla Ku and Emma Lee. Speaking on the message behind the song, Jamee Lockard from the band shares: “'FYO' is about belonging to different worlds but feeling rejected by both. Growing up as a mixed-race minority in the US, my self concept was warped by other people telling me what I am and am not, pushing and pulling me between identities. Although my feelings of cultural dissonance still ebb and flow, now I have the vocabulary, support system, and perspective to unpack that inner conflict on my own terms. We should never give others the authority to define who we are."

With her new album Homecoming set for release on April 2 via Daemon T.V., Du Blonde is sharing the video for ‘Medicated’. Featuring Garbage’s Shirley Manson, Du Blonde says of the song, “‘Medicated’ is a letter to my 27 year old self who didn’t want to live anymore, from my now medicated, functioning and content self. It might sound depressing or concerning, but really it’s quite joyful. Like ‘look at how things can be if you hang around’. Shirley and I had talked about her adding vocals to a track and when I wrote Medicated it seemed like the perfect fit. She’s been a voice of reason for me many times when i’ve been struggling and it felt really appropriate to have her. I shot the video in my childhood bedroom using a green screen Girl Ray gave me at the start of lockdown,” she continues. “The spiders are a reference to a hallucination I had in my early teens where I pulled back my bed covers to see thousands of spiders writhing around in my bed, which now I see as a result of extreme anxiety. A lot of the scenarios in the video are a celebration of the things about me that I feel people might feel shame about. There’s so much stigma around taking medication in order to ease mental health conditions, so I wanted to express my feelings on the subject which is basically ‘I take medication and i’m stoked about it because thanks to that i’m still alive’.” [via DIY]

Back with her powerful Y2K sound, Spain's Rakky Ripper channels PC Music and Rina Sawayama on brightly catchy new single 'Whatever'. The new EP Xtra Cost is released  February 19. If you are over the age of 25, odds are that you can recall a very specific kind of pop that graced our launch into the new millennium. Since coined as "Y2K", chart music of that short era was flush with R&B beats, synthetic arrangements and sickly sweet hooks. Britney was the industry’s honey-highlighted princess whilst Christina made it dirrty. It’s something that Rina Sawayama has made 2020-relevant again with the release of her debut album Sawayama, whilst PC Music and Charli XCX took it to another extreme with the redefinition of what it means to be pop. Meanwhile, over in Spain, the alt-pop scene is flourishing courtesy of artists such as Rakky Ripper and her own unique blend of Y2K-meets-hyper-pop. Already gaining Charli XCX approval when the Mercury Award nominee asked Rakky to join her onstage at her Madrid show, the Granada talent shows crossover potential with her new single 'Whatever'. Punchy beats and playful synths capture the sticky heat of pop done well whilst its fuzzy guitar gives it an alternative edge, however it’s its hook-riddled chorus and Rakky’s Spanglish lyrical mix that make 'Whatever' a standout moment. “‘Whatever’ is the pop girl in my new EP Xtra Cost,” shares Rakky of her new release. “It’s my 2021 version of Britney, *NSYNC and the Spice Girls. The new video tells the story about two people who are in love but one of them pretends not to care, so the other person is always chasing.” [via Line Of Best Fit]

Things are afoot in the FKA twigs camp. In October, the R&B star revealed that her third album had been completed during quarantine. Now, she’s back with a new song called 'Don’t Judge Me'. It's her first since dropping the masterful album MAGDALENE in 2019. In addition to a stunning performance from FKA twigs, the track features UK rapper Headie One and producer Fred again…, who’s worked with the likes of Ed Sheeran and Brian Eno. 'Don’t Judge Me' appears to be something of a companion release or sequel to 'Don’t Judge Me (Interlude)', an early 2020 collaboration that also featured all three artists. Unlike the intentional vagueness of that song, the themes on this version are a lot more direct. During her verse and the hook, twigs begs her lover to hold her and appreciate the “precious love” she sends their way with a devastating urgency. Headie One takes a different approach in his verse and goes off about racial injustice and police brutality. “Know more about my people from the streets than from my teachers/ I done a million speeches/ No justice, no peace, ’cause we in pieces/ Officer, am I allowed to breathe here?,” he raps with a conversational directness. It’s a really powerful pairing from two different yet complementary artists with voices that demand the listener’s full attention. Check it out above via a dazzling video co-directed by FKA twigs and Emmanuel Adjei, who was heavily involved in Beyonce’s Black Is King visual album. Like all of FKA twigs’ clips, this one is truly something to behold. [via Consequence of Sound]

Girl Friday have delivered a surrealistic visual for 'Earthquake,' the powerhouse lead single from Androgynous Mary, their acclaimed album of 2020 out now on Hardly Art. 'Earthquake' is one of the band's most gloriously raging moments and sees the group power through three and a half minutes of unadulterated catharsis. Girl Friday’s Vera Ellen, who directed the new video, offers this, “The greatest love story is between a song and a video. I wanted to deconstruct the creative process. How do ideas find each other? What happens when the artist lets outside forces get in the way of an idea? How is an idea affected by us, the audience and our expectations? What does an idea have to do to become it’s complete, purest, self. Beyond anything, it’s a story of fighting for true liberation. This will look different for everyone but I hope people can project their own struggle onto the story, and relish in the freedom experienced by the characters (if only for a moment)."

J-Pop girl-group, FAKY has released their first single of 2021, 'The Light' with an accompanying music video. This song was selected as a campaign song for the horror film Jukaimura (Suicide Forest Village), the most recent work by the master horror director, Takashi Shimizu, who also directed The Ju-on (The Grudge) and Inunakimura (Howling Village). This up-tempo and cheerful track was created to add another layer of eerieness and uncertainty to the hair-raising storyline and themes of the movie. 2020 was a successful year for the girl group. FAKY hopes to further their success in 2021 starting with the release of 'The Light'. “Our new single ‘The Light’ is an uplifting song with its pop melody, powerful live band sound, and motivating message to move forward towards the light” - FAKY. The music was composed by up-and-coming music producer, Maeshima Soshi (Hypnosis Mic, Hey! Say! JUMP, Rinne and Sorane). 'The Light' expresses that moment when your heart quivers, just when you are about to change, with the theme being about overcoming conflict and having “power to strike out into the world.”

Kinlaw's dark-pop quest has seen her shatter boundaries. Snapped up by Bayonet Records, her piercing, roving eye deconstructs her personal feelings, illuminating electronic structures in their stead. New album The Tipping Scale is out this month, and it expertly reflects the vagaries of winter, the spartan landscapes and the self-examination. Taken from the record, new single 'Haircut' deals with shifts in her life, with the urge to propel herself into something fresh. "I cut my hair to confuse myself," she comments. "It started as a mission to change who I was, to make a new and better version, but ended with my feeling like I no longer knew what I was mourning." A song about leaving trauma behind and embracing the possibilities of the present, 'Haircut' carries some inspired connotations for these troubled times. Kinlaw says the single offers "a question of personal power, and even speaking on this song today has been challenging because it was written when I was unsure if I had any power left. I think 'Haircut' can be a lot of things to many different people, particularly those who identify with the juxtaposition of in-depth, internal dialogue paired with everyday coping strategies. There is a sweetness to it, but also such substantial, unwavering difficulty. Today, I prefer to think of 'Haircut' as an anthem of resilience and an ode to the ways we keep going, we shapeshift, and we reinstall that there is a way to find what it is we are hoping to find." The visual leans on the intimate, opening up a window into Kinlaw's life, and her true feelings. [via Clash]

The Rhode Island born,  Los Angeles based singer, songwriter, musician and actress Emeline is known for her work with Thievery Corporation's Rob Garza as well as her solo music full of biting lyrics and catchy hooks. Her new music video for '6 Foot Deep' was filmed at the infamous Westerfeld Mansion a.k.a “House of Legends.” Icons like Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin have lived there, as well as the founder of the Church of Satan. Covered in satanic etchings and scratches from his pet lions, the energy within the house added to the feel of the music video. Also previously used for the Russian Embassy, the house has featured on "Ghost Hunters" for it's haunted happenings.

The Charli XCX-crafted Nasty Cherry have returned with their first single of the year, 'Lucky'. The new track follows last year's Season 2 EP, and arrives as first taster of a new EP landing this spring. The band say of their new single, "'Lucky' is a song we wrote for each other during the pandemic where the six weeks we got to spend together felt incredibly precious and introspective. It's a reflective, sweet and spiky little song." [via Line Of Best Fit]

Griff has premiered the video for her incredible new single ‘Black Hole’. Launched as Annie Mac’s Hottest Record in the World last week, the striking new visual sees Griff examine a past relationship through a surreal, Alice in Wonderland’-esque journey from the sewing room into self-discovery (directed by duo SOB). [via With Guitars]

Poppy Ajudha has shared her new single 'Weakness' in full. The London based artist blends together jazz, soul, R&B, and a whole lot more besides, resulting in a sound that is truly her own. 'Weakness' is a song about love, and it finds Poppy capturing that nuanced dichotomy between the rush of pleasure and an innate fear of being out of control. In a note, Poppy explains that her new single is "about feeling out of control and at the mercy of someone else because of how crazy they make you feel, but also feeling bittersweet about it, because you’re a bad b*tch and you don’t have time for that ish." The songwriter steered the video, too, a self-admitted "control freak" who oversaw the neat mixture of animation and a superbly styled set. "Self-directing was really fun," she comments. "I’m a control freak so it was great to get stuck into all the facets of making a music video. Choosing the team, the makeup looks, directing the styling ideas, writing the narrative, working out how to build the set. It definitely felt like a challenge to direct, star-in and perform choreographed moves for the first time but I love to push myself and am really glad I did." [via Clash]

GG McG’s latest single, ‘Good Morning’, is her first release this year and second overall, following ‘Boom’ in 2019. The song was written on GarageBand during lockdown and was produced by Japanese Wallpaper’s Gab Strum, mixed by Konstantin Kersting and mastered by Andrei Eremin. “‘Good Morning’ is about the total, complete chaos of the past year and the feeling of waking up every morning, reading the news and being blown away by just how much worse things were than the day before,” McGauran said in a statement. [via the Music Network]

Singer HyunA dropped her seventh mini album I’m Not Cool on Thursday, singing of the ups and downs of being the “cool girl” on stage. The album’s title song 'I’m Not Cool' sings about the nice things she tells herself. “It’s really about my originality. I try to compliment myself before going onto the stage. I tell myself it’s not bad to be myself. I’ve long dreamed of this moment right now, and I feel like I’m a bird flying freely in the sky or a flower blooming in the field. I know I cannot be loved by everyone, but I become perfect with just one person’s love. The song is about these kind of every day thoughts.” Donned in exotic outfits and flashy makeup, HyunA said she “became a snake” in the song that sings “No one’s as intense as I am, like salmosa. I tried to show as much of myself as I could in the music video. I wanted to show how intense the ‘not cool’ HyunA could become when fully set,” she added. The creativity behind the title track comes from the unique minds of herself, singer and the founder of her agency P Nation Psy, and her best colleague and boyfriend Dawn. “We worked on the song while just chatting about it endlessly with each other,” HyunA said. “When Psy threw in a big catchy chunk, Dawn would creatively unfold this, adding fun elements to make it fit my style and state of mind. I personally like writing those rebellious lines. Mingling these three minds together, every day, was just so much fun.” [via The Korea Herald]

THYLA are sharing their first new music of 2021, with new single 'Breathe', a track that the band confirm will appear on their long-awaited debut album, set for release later this year. Putting 2020 firmly in the rear-view mirror, the Thyla ethos of putting one foot in front of the other serves them well as they look toward what a long-awaited debut album might sound like. As self-confessed underdogs they've developed an attitude that aims at turning the possible into the inevitable, and with the hypnotic 'Breathe' they reach for reflective, melancholy sounds to accompany what is a time of intense loneliness for many. It is a theme that has been creeping into Thyla's music for some time, and 'Breathe' sees them further explore the idea that, in a world more connected than ever, we are paradoxically more shut off as individuals. 'Breathe' shows yet again that even at their subtlest, Thyla are capable of carving out an impassioned pop world full of the intricacies of our much-missed IRL interactions. Lead singer Millie Duthie offers these thoughts on the track: "'Breathe' was written in the early hours of the morning. Eventually we chanced upon this really vibey atmospheric lick that you hear in the intro, and the whole song grew from there. The song blossomed into a slightly melancholic dream-pop bop, it’s bittersweet and has a slightly inconclusive feeling to it; imagine a film where the main character never actually gets the happy ending you’ve been so long yearning for. The result of how the instrumental sounded no doubt manifested lyrics that held the same sentiment. The song is about loneliness, estrangement from family and close friends, yet despite this, feeling a sense of inner strength about the situation. It’s like recovering from a breakup and realising you’ve come out stronger, but a reflection of the scar tissue that resulted from the trauma."

[devilrising]

Fallen Draco, Pt. 19

This story is following a prompt set by @mymindsmadness

Summary: AU where Draco is a fallen angel, and the way he gets his wings back is by guiding Harry in defeating Voldemort, but it all goes wrong when Draco starts falling in love with Harry

Word Count (Part 19): 3,130

Word Count (Total): 60,666

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of abuse/torture (non-graphic)

***

29th April, 1998 (continued)

The second Harry claps twice, the game commences. Light is immediately extinguished, and everyone runs off in the dark. I look around, squinting and willing my eyes to adjust to the lack of light as quickly as possible. The point of the game may be to test my skills, but I would also like to get used to being in darkness. I turn around, lazily walking in circles and keeping my ears peeled. A scuffle off to the left of me alerts me to another person close by. Determined, I dim the lights even further and creep off away from them. The person turns out to be Ron, his disgruntled slurs very distinct.

I force myself not to chuckle at how easy it was. It won’t be that easy soon. Grim, I decide to play it safe. Focus on not being caught, instead of on showcasing my new abilities. A footstep sounds to my right and, without thinking, I turn the lighting up. I am instantly blinded, and only then remember my focus. Oh well. It works, everyone in the room yelping, alerting me to where everyone is. Keeping my ears peeled, I continue to tamper with the lighting, dodging people and just being a general nuisance to these people who are trying to help me. I feel kind of bad, blinding them on repeat and then plunging them into darkness in the space of a second. A good friend wouldn’t do that. Then again, the people I face in the actual battle won’t be good friends, will they?

A shoe scuffs loudly right behind me. I don’t have time to do anything drastic, and my heart thunders in my chest. It sounds once again, slightly closer than before. Hands shaking, I jump to my right and make sure to land quietly. The next second, Harry’s voice cries out as he hits the floor. A sting of guilt shoots through me, but I push it aside. I wouldn’t deliberately hurt him, and he’s the one who tried to jump at me. Shaking my head and working for my heart to unclench, I prowl around the room. My footsteps are silent in the dark room, and I decide that I need to try one of the new challenges. Which one though?

There could be many benefits of wrapping darkness around myself and becoming invisible. It’s tempting—the sheer capability if I can pull that off is insane—but the room is pitch black. I’m practically invisible already! That leaves bending light to hide myself behind reflections. I can only imagine how taxing that will be on both my physical and magical energy, but I have to try. Harry will annoyed if I don’t; this whole game—hell, the whole day!—has been for my sake. To train me up so I can be useful in the battle. I can’t let this opportunity slide.

I think for a moment, allowing my mind to sink into memory. The books have been quite useful in the past, but I don’t remember anything about creating light mirrors. Sighing, I think back to the things Hermione and Harry might have said. Neither of them seem to know what to do either, my mind coming up blank. I’m alone in figuring this out. Maybe, instead of clenching and unclenching my fists, I could flatten them out? No, that’s too close to unclenched hands, like I’d do to brighten the room. I hum in annoyance. The next second I am being lunged at again, and I hurriedly dodge left. Ron exclaims loudly as he hits the ground. I scold myself in my mind. This is supposed to be a silent game. Shaking my head, I delve into my mind again.

What if I pictured a mirror in my mind? Or is that too close to imagining the sun? I groan silently, clenching my jaw tight. Maybe I could… I have no idea. There isn’t anything I can think of which I could use to channel the light properly. Someone utters something about bruising to the right of me. I don’t think they know I’m here. Smirking, I up the light so quickly it’s like the sun has been turned on. Everyone shouts and covers their eyes, and I realise that it was Hermione who was next to me. I darken the room again and creep into one of the far corners.

There must be something I can do. Harry wouldn’t have suggested it if he wasn’t certain I could find a way to do it. Throwing caution to the wind, I adjust the light so I can see a bit better. As everyone around the room starts to focus in on me, a memory strikes and an idea comes to mind. Smirking to myself and waving cheekily at the others, I turn my back on them and look over my shoulder. What Harry might have called a reflection, is in reality light being bent and stretched in a complete circle. This is easier to create than going invisible. In order to eliminate myself from view, I would have to bend light around myself and remove any naturally reflecting light. To mirror myself or anything else, I only have to hide myself and then amplify the reflected light.

Since the light is bending around a circle, it might make sense to face one way but look in the opposite direction, over my shoulder. It’s almost like I’m moulding myself into a circle. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. My eyes dart between the three people, each coming steadily closer. They’re suspicious, each and every one of them. They think I’m going to blind them, or literally remove the light from their eyes. Instead, I concentrate on morphing my body. I suppress a shudder; imagining myself contorted and blurred in space is not a pleasant thought. A gasp sounds out from somewhere in the room, and I wonder for a second if it’s worked. When my eyes dart around myself, I see a second me—an exact replica of what I look like right now—behind my body.

I snap my head back so I’m looking at the corner I’m standing in again, and then slowly turn around. My reflection does the same thing, and I’m left staring at the back of my own head. It’s not quite a reflection—as those normally face you—and is more like a duplicate of me a few metres in front. It doesn’t seem to change its position in regards to where I’m facing, always to the north of where I’m standing. As long as no one figures that out, they won’t know which is real and which is literally just a trick of the light.

“Draco,” Hermione breathes, “you did it.” Her voice is so quiet, like she’s scared it will shatter the illusion.

Ron has no such concerns, and lets out a wild whoop. “That’s wicked cool mate!”

Harry approaches slowly, his figure visible in the less-dim-than-normal light. “Dray,” he murmurs, walking towards the fake me. “This is amazing.” His face is taken over with pride and wonder, and he stops just short of the illusion. “Which one is real?”

I lift a hand and wave, my reflection doing the same. “Me, of course,” I say. My duplicate speaks at exactly the same time, no trace of an echo to give it away.

Harry shakes his head. “That doesn’t help.” A grin splits his face, and he backs away. “I guess that’s the point though, isn’t it?”

I nod my head at him, delighted at the prospect of the game continuing.

Without any warning, I lunge forward into the group and drop the light all the way down. It’s so dark I can’t see anything at all, not even the fake me. The other three gasp and shriek, and run after my duplicate. They don’t know they have the wrong one yet. Wouldn’t it be fun to mess with them a bit… Allowing a sly smile to cross my mouth, I wave my arms around wildly. Distantly, I feel my arm collide with something. The sensation is odd, not entirely present in a way. My duplicate must have hit someone. That’s interesting. That means that my magic has made it somewhat solid, instead of letting things fall right through the bent light. If the fake me is fatally hit, does the illusion disappear? I’ll need to ask Harry, and possibly do some more research.

Satisfied with my progress for now, I pull the light back and flatten it out again. My reflection wobbles and then curves, morphing around the empty space and flying back to me. Ron curses when he realises they were at the wrong one, and instantly jumps closer to me. I ram the light up and blind him momentarily again, only slightly apologetic for the trauma I’ve put his eyes under today. He drops to the floor and Hermione runs over to him. A second later she stands back up and laughs loudly, before running to where I am. I plunge the room back into darkness and sprint off, not really trying to avoid stepping on people’s toes.

***

“Time out!” Harry’s voice fills the room an hour later, and I turn the lights up so everyone can see normally.

“About bloody time,” Ron grumbles, stepping forward from the back corner where I created my duplicate. Maybe he was hoping I’d move back over there…

“That was brilliant, Draco!” Hermione smiles, nudging Ron as she passes and murmuring something that sounds like ‘be nice, your eyes can be healed’.

I blush slightly, pleased at the compliment from Hermione but embarrassed at the attention.

“Draco,” Harry says from the front, gathering our attention once again. “That was really good!” He leaves time for the other two to cheer and whoop, and I feel my blush deepening. “However,” his voice cuts through the room, “you have raised a lot of questions that I would like to have an answer for before Saturday.”

I nod, having expected the answer. “Yeah, the reflection is rather curious. It doesn’t seem to follow normal rules of magic or physics, and I have a couple of very particular questions.”

“Yes, I thought you might. It looks like we have a ton of research we need to get done, doesn’t it?” Harry pulls a face.

I chuckle at him. “Yes, it seems like we might.”

Harry pauses for a second, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. I only just withhold myself from teasing him about not straining himself. “You didn’t try to go invisible,” he eventually says.

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t want to try two new things at once,” I explain. “I also remembered something I overheard from some of the younger students back at Hogwarts, about going blind because light can’t hit the retina.”

Hermione looks amazed. “You know Muggle science?”

I glower at her. “I may have been raised by a psychotic father who wants to help a void of a man commit genocide, but yes I know Muggle science.” I pause, wanting to add something to soften my tone. “Also, it helped keep me occupied while I was trapped in my room.” I especially enjoyed the psychology books, but I don’t see the need to mention that.

She accepts my answer—and my harsh tone—with a simple, somewhat sympathetic, nod.

Harry draws our attention back to him, and when I glance in his direction he looks like he has a plan. A very detailed plan, I amend, now that I’ve noticed the glint in his green eyes.

“Let’s divide the research between the four of us,” he starts. “Draco, you should write down everything you’ve noticed about your abilities and any questions you have. Hermione, you and I will look through as many books as possible trying to gather information. Ron, could you sort the books into piles so that we have some idea of what to look for in each?”

Ron pumps a fist in silent applause. “If that means I don’t have to read a bunch of shit I don’t understand, then yes!”

Harry chuckles. “That is exactly what that means, yes.”

“Where are your books?” Hermione asks. I’m sure she knows exactly where they are, and by Harry’s smirk he thinks so too, but he points downwards to the drawing room anyway.

“They’re all piled down there from the last time we crashed it to do research,” Harry explains.

With a nod and a surprisingly energetic nod, Hermione bounds out of the room and down the stairs.

“How does she have so much energy?” Ron groans. I look at him, and for the first time I notice the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and neck. When I flick my attention to Harry, I see him flushed and sweaty too, his normal mop of hair somehow worse than normal.

“I don’t know,” Harry pants, shaking his head.

Harry walks over to the door and opens it, holding it out for both Ron and I to cross through before following us out. Harry’s hand finds it’s resting place on my lower back once again, and he presses into me to direct me back down the stairs and into the drawing room. A month ago I would have kicked him and tried to get away; it’s amazing how quickly things can change.

Ron calls out in what can only be described as frustration as he enters the room. He’s seen the books. Okay. Maybe Harry and I have gone a bit overboard with research, and maybe we have the equivalent of a small library strewn around, but it isn’t quite worth screaming over. Certainly, the piles of books on every surface are a bit daunting, but he isn’t going to be opening any of them past the index! A rush of guilt for Hermione and Harry jolts through me, but I push it down. I’ll help them after I tell them what my thoughts are, and it’s not like any of them actually complained. Hell, Hermione practically ran down to get started.

Wordlessly, Harry gestures for me to start writing everything I’ve noticed and every question I have down, and I pick up a notebook and Muggle pen off the bookshelf. Settling in on one of the arm chairs, I begin to note down anything that could prove useful. The Muggle science stuff is first, and my knowledge about bending and morphing light takes up most of the first page. Then come my observations. The fact that my duplicate is always to the north of me regardless of where I’m facing; the tiny reaction my own body had when the duplicate came into contact with someone. A couple more fill the rest of the page, and I turn it over to continue on the back. My questions follow my observations, and there are quite a few of those. What happens to the duplicate if I’m seriously injured or die? What happens if the duplicate is hit with an Unforgivable or otherwise fatal curse? Is there only a certain length of time that the reflected version of myself can exist for, despite me being in prime condition? Many more are written down, and the back of the page is now covered in my neat script.

I tap Harry in the armchair next to mine, and silently pass him the page. He grins at me and scans it quickly, before flipping his book back to the index and navigating to a totally different page than the one he was on when I tapped him. He then floats the paper over to Hermione, making sure it hits her in the face. She glares but looks it over all the same. She taps Ron with her foot, and he looks up from the ground where he’s sorting the books into categories of some sort. He takes the page and reads it quickly, a self-satisfied smile on his face as he continues with his pre-existing piles. When Hermione rolls her eyes, I realise why. Hermione thought he’d have to start again after seeing my notes. And Ron was correct all along!

Smiling to myself, I pick up my own book and open it to the index. It’s a big, heavy book on Fallen Angels, and I scan the list of contents. I find a section devoted to Risen Angels’ powers, and I flick to it. Most of it’s probably useless, but it’s worth a try.

***

“Would anyone like a cup of tea? Or something stronger?” Harry asks the room a while later. Night has long set in by this point, and a mug of coffee sounds like the only way I’m going to stay awake. I’m utterly exhausted, my body becoming sore and stiff from hours of disuse after hours of activity.

“Actually, we probably have to be going,” Ron says. “I have some more organising things to do, and I might not have enough time to do them if I leave it much later.” At this he pulls a face, his lip curling and nose scrunching up.

Hermione smiles a small smile at him before turning back to Harry and I. “I can come back if you need me to, but…”

“But you’d rather be with Ron,” Harry finishes for her. Even though the words ‘since you might only have two days left’ aren’t said out loud, they linger in the air, heavy.

She purses her lips and nods. She begins to say something but Harry cuts her off. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll be fine. Off you go.” He practically pushes her and Ron towards the fireplace. They exchange hugs and halfhearted reassurances, and then they’re gone in a plume of green smoke.

The drawing room is astonishingly silent very quickly. The fire crackles in the grate still, but apart from that and our breaths, the house is quiet. Mother checked in on us a while ago, growing tired and heading off to bed. She had teased us about spending all day working and training, but she sounded very proud of me and our progress. Now though, she’s in her bedroom and sleeping soundly.

“Draco?”

I startle back into the present, Harry’s face right in front of mine. His green eyes are tired and weary, but his mouth is crinkled into a smile. I return it and lean forward to press my lips against his. He sighs contentedly, his arms wrapping up around my neck.

“Come on,” he murmurs into the tiny space between us. “I’m going to draw you a bath.”

“Okay,” I reply just as quietly. Despite clearly being exhausted, Harry scoops me up and carries me into the closest bathroom to get me ready for a relaxing bath to help soothe my muscles.

***

A/N: Sorry for the delay, uni got the best of me with new assignments. Here it is though! I hope you’ve all had a good week and are staying safe Xx

Masterlist — Previous Part — Next Part

@draconianhorntail @p3trovass @cowboy-simp @queeneyart @ohheavenlylord @h0pehauntedmyw0rld @unsolicted-chick-picks @itsclayclay @harrybpoetry @slash-slut @jianing2603 @magical-fairy-princess-stuff @give-me-the-queer @youmakeprettybeautiful @hello-i-am-moi @slytherclaw134689 @sinnysin-sin @lafilleetlechatnoir @absolutetrashcan @irrelevantdrarry @glo-up-goddess @birdy1032 @d-addict @pizzasandwich72 @madison-is-a-small-baby @joshoriande @sugarhoneyice-t @imaginemymemories @shipperofalltheships @uniiicornen @thewanderingnomadsworld @randominternetloser @levi7755 @localxmermaid @biyaaaaaaaaaa @just-some-bibliophile @pizzabitch @champagnemonarch

[valeriethepussycats]

I’m Only Human

Chapter 10

Pairing- Loki x Reader, Thor x Reader( Best friends)

Warning- cursing 

The Destroyer is unable to react quickly enough, as Volstagg  smashes into the creature. It looks like it might actually work for a moment, but the Destroyer stays on its feet. It lifts Volstagg into the by the scruff of his neck. He shrugs apologetically. The Destroyer savagely hurls him at Hogun and Fandral,  smashing into them into Force field that Y/n put up in Record timing to catch them. Sif Leaps off a nearby rooftop with her two-headed spear and plunges it deep into the back of the creature. The creature stands there motionless, the fire dimming in its  faceplate, Sif standing atop its back.

  The Asgardians have a brief moment of hope. But the creature stirs with life, its fire igniting once again. Sif looks on with growing trepidation.Slowly, unnaturally,  the Destroyer spins its torso around 180 degrees to face its attackers. The Destroyer unleashes a blast at Sif. She barely dives off  of the behemoth in time, dodging the blast.

The Destroyer rises again to its full height, pulling free from Sif's staff, the weapon slipping through the slats of its armor. Sif and the Warriors Three try to regroup by Y/n, when the Destroyer unleashes another blast, sending Sif and her comrades flying in all directions. Hogun's pouch of healing stones breaks free, landing in the middle of the street.

Thor sees his friends lying injured on the ground, but has no  time to act, as the Destroyer fires in his direction. Just as Y/n looks over the car she see the Destroyer fires at her friends. With a deep breath Y/n’s y/e turns white and  hurricane force winds blasts towards the destroyer knocking him off his feet. Y/n being to levitates off the ground, with The flick of her wrist the cars moves out the way. The Destroyer gets up off the ground.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ��� ○ ○ ○ ○

Loki sitting on the throne watching everything with curiosity.”Who could be this powerful help in Thor?”

Not being able to see the person that just knock The Destroyer down Loki commands him to send another beam towards the person.

Y/n raises her hand and places of force field in front of her and them A dark cloud forms until the sky around the The little town darkens. Y/n raises her left arm and a huge bolt of lightning strikes The Destroyer blasting it yards away. She then raises her hand to move Sif and the warrior three out of harms way. A storefront near Smith Motor  explosion, knocked Thor, Jane, and Erik off their feet. Thor helps Jane to her feet, when they notice Erik lying on his back amidst the debris, impaled by a twisted piece of iron.

“Erik!” Jane shouted as She and Thor hurry to his side. He's losing blood, going into shock.

“Go! Leave me!”  Eric told Jane.

Jane takes his hand as Thor spots Hogun's pouch of healing  stones lying in the middle of the street. He makes a break  for it, dodging through the flaming wreckage, then grabs the pouch and races back. He opens the pouch to find the fragile stones crushed and useless. He pours the contents out in his hand.

“Come on... give me one!” Thor called out.

Amidst the useless powder, he finally finds one stone still intact. Thor tosses the pouch aside, holds the stone over the end of the iron rod.

“What are you doing? What is that?” Jane wondered.

Then the stone begins to glow, Thor crushes it. Jane looks on, amazed, as the glowing powder falls upon the piece of iron, dissolving it, heading downwards, until it reaches Erik's wound. The powder heals his wound completely. Thor looks down the street, sees his wounded friends still lying there, as Erik sits up in utter astonishment. He  reaches through the hole in his shirt to touch his healed flesh.

“I'm really starting to like him.”  Erik declared.

Jane turns to Thor to find he's gone.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Thor reaches Sif, who lies dazed, battered, and bloodied on the ground. He pulls her behind a burning vehicle.

“Go, while you can!” Thor urged Sif.

“Your friend how could she do that?” Sif asked.

“Not all Midgardians are normal some are born with powers but you need leave.” Thor told Sif with a small smile.

“I can not leave No! I will die a warrior's death. Stories will be told of this day--“

Thor gently takes her shield from her. “Live and tell those stories yourself.” At last, she nods. Thor spots where Y/n place Volstagg lying unconscious, with Hogun and Fandral lying nearby. Thor makes his way towards them. Volstagg is barely breathing. Thor tries to pull him to safety, but it's no use. He won't budge. He rouses Hogun and Fandral. “Get him out of here!”

“No. We can still fight!”  Fandral insisted.

“But not win. Move Volstagg, or he'll die!” Thor told his Conrads. “Don’t worry, my friends. I have a plan.” Thor looks at them, grins. “Brother your fight is with me.”

“Bro- brother your brother is doing all this.” Y/n said turning to look at Thor.

Seeing a small window to attack Y/n, The Destroyer fires a beam at Y/n.

“Y/n! Look out!!” Thor shouted.

Y/n turns around just in time to put up a force field but the beam blasts her back into a car.

“Y/n!!” Thor is about to rush over to Y/n but a fire beam separates him from getting into her. The two Warriors reluctantly grab their fallen friend and drag him away from the battlefield. After they go, Thor turns to back to the Destroyer, then tosses Sif's shield aside. He strides down the street towards the behemoth, completely defenseless.

“Brother... for whatever I have done to wrong you, whatever I have done to lead you to do this, I am sorry. But these people have done nothing to you. They are innocents.” Thor started. As he begins to walk towards the Destroyer. “Take my life, and know I will never return to Asgard.”

Thor reaches The Destroyer, extends his arms. The Destroyer hesitates, sizing up the defenseless Thor, then enormous arm swings back to hit him. With his eyes closed Thor waits for the hit to come but it never does. When Thor open his eyes he see Y/n in front of him. Breathing heavily, Clothes somewhat ripped and covered in blood,and one hand up stopping The Destroyer and the other holding her right side.

“Y/n!!.” Thor said shocked.

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt.” Y/n murmured.

Force field is around them and when the smoke clearers Loki finally sees the woman Who has been fighting the Destroyer. And at that moment he  feels it just like his mother said he would the whole world stop and all he could see is her. The way her white and y/h framed her face so beautifully, her lips, her eyes, and her nose. The Destroy walks closer to Y/n leaning down so their face to face.

“He’s your brother why are you doing this?” Y/n asked.

The Destroyer hand comes to touch the Force field and all the wounds on Y/n’s body are all healed.

“What the-“

Not being able to finish her sentence she falls to the ground unconscious and the Force field she had put up falls with her. The Destroyer moves around Y/n and stands in front of Thor. The Destroyer then swats him with its enormous arm. We hear the sickening crack of breaking bones as Thor goes flying. Thor lands in a crumpled, broken heap in front of Smith Motors, before Jane, Erik , and Darcy. The wounded Asgardians watch helplessly from down the street, a look of horror on their faces. Jane tries to rush out to Thor's aid, but Erik holds her back.

“Jane, no!” He pulls her into Smith Motors. A raven flies overhead, watching the scene.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Odin lies in the Odinsleep. A single tear rolls down the Allfather's cheek.

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Thor's eyes close, his last breath leaving his lips. The Destroyer stands over Thor's body, lowers its head towards him. It opens its faceplate, locks it in place, readying to unleash its fiery blast.

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Inside the crater, the runes of the side of Mjolnir reappear, burning bright. Electricity starts to crackle on the hammer's surface. Scientists beside it take notice as it vibrates, and a rumble comes from overhead. They look up. Clouds form in the sky above. Just then, with a crack and flash of lightning, Mjolnir flies straight up into the air like a rocket.

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The Destroyer unleashes its blast at Thor's body, when -- KRAKAKABOOM!  A blinding Bolt Of Lightening strikes down from above, colliding with the Destroyer's blast. The explosion is massive. The Destroyer is hurled backwards, a cloud of dust enveloping the street. As the smoke clears we see.

“Oh. My. God.” Jane said utterly shocked.

The Mighty Thor. Clad in his full battle armor, holding Mjolnir in his hand --the God of Thunder once more. Thor kneels, brings Mjolnir down onto the ground. Lightning strikes the Destroyer. It convulses. Thor swings Mjolnir around, takes off straight up into the air, as the Destroyer gets back on its feet and looks up at the Thunder God. 

Storm clouds gather around Thor as he summons gale force winds. Debris from the battle begins to rise up into the sky. The Destroyer stays there, kept grounded by its massive weight. It lifts its head up at the Thunder God, opens its faceplate, locks it in place, unleashes its blast.

Thor dives downwards  straight at it, with Mjolnir before him. Mjolnir collides with the Destroyer's fiery energy blast, overpowering it, pushing it back, forcing it downwards at the Destroyer. Thor jams his hammer deep into the Destroyer's faceplate. The fiery energy within the creature builds up and explodes within him, firing out of all his openings.

Thor smashes the Destroyer to the ground in a tremendous heap, the fiery energy within it extinguished forever. Thor pulls. Mjolnir from its faceplate, walks away from its lifeless carcass. As he does, the other objects and debris pulled into the air by the gale winds drop down from the  skies, around the Destroyer, burying it. Thor walks over and picks up Y/n up and walks over to Jane and His's comrades, now roused, stand to join him.   A battered Coulson approaches with several Shield Agents. “Donald... I don't think you've been completely honest with me...... is she-“

“She unconscious my brother did this.” Thor told Coulson.

Coulson motions for some agents to come and take Y/n. “Medic smelling salts.”

A medic Shield Agent comes rushing towards the men that carried Y/n away and holds one of the smelling salts up to her nose and breaks it. A few seconds later Y/n’s eyes open and there’s glowing red she can’t moves it’s like sleep paralysis. All the car, broken glass, Street lamps, and some people begin to float.

“Oh no.”

“What’s happening?” Jane asked as everyone Watches the scene unfold in front of them.

“Y/n her powers she can’t control all of them.” Coulson informed them.

“Powers? I thought her only power was controlling the weather.” Darcy Chimed in.

Coulson pulls out a lidl out of a pouch and inject it in Y/n’s arm.

“What does that do?” Thor asked with a concern voice.

“It stops her powers completely.” Coulson told Thor.

Y/n sits up with the grunt. Everything that was floating comes crashing down to the ground. She looks around and sees everyone staring at her with concerning looks.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked.

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Y/n, Thor, Jane, Darcy, Selvig and the other Asgardians stand in the desert with Thor, Coulson, and several Shield Agents.

Thor walks up to Y/n and stands beside her trying to find the words to say Goodbye.

“Damn I miss the big reveal how was it where they shocked?” Y/n Asked Thor.

“Yes very much.” Thor answered then takes a deep breath in. “From the moment I landed here you believe in me, you’ve helped me, and treated me as a friend I don’t think I could ever repay that debt.”

“There’s no debt that’s what friends are for it’s been a long time since a had one a real one.” Y/n said with a smile. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Thor looks over at Y/n and smiles. “You’re going to see me again because. I’m your Alien best friend remember.”

Darcy turns to Volstagg. “So, how can you speak our language?” Darcy asked suddenly.

“Your language? Ha! Silly girl, you're speaking ours.” Volstagg answered.

Thor calls up to the sky. ”Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!”

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Heimdall stands frozen.

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Sif walks up to Y/n.

“You fought well Midgardian you would be a great warrior on Asgard.” Sif Told Y/n.

“Thank you.” Y/n said with. Smile at Sif.

Thor looks to the others with concern. “He would open it if he could. I fear the worst.”

“Then we're trapped here forever.”  Volstagg supposed.

“Hmm I I doubt it.” Y/n murmured.

“Then I suppose we'd best start settling into our new lives.” Fandral disclosed. He looks to Darcy, turns on the charm. “Are all earth maidens as fair as you?”

Darcy enjoys the attention. “No.”

Thor shouts back up to the sky. “Heimdall!”

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From inside the ice, Heimdall hears Thor calling to him. Knowing that the fate of Asgard depends on him, he musters all his strength. The ice around him begins to CRACK. With a tremendous effort, Heimdall SHATTERS free from the ice.

Weakened, near death, he drags himself inside the Observatory.

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The Asgardians begin to lose hope. Volstagg eyes a Shield Agent’s machine gun. “Primitive. Good enough for hunting small game, I suppose.”

Suddenly, the Bifrost explodes down from the sky. Thor grins.

The mortals look on, amazed. Fandral turns to Darcy. “Sorry, my love. These things happen.”

He joins the other Asgardians at their side.

Thor turns to Coulson. “Know this, son of Coul. You and I, we fight for the same cause -- the protection of this world. From this day forward, count me as your ally If you return the items you have stolen from Jane Foster.”

“Not stolen. Borrowed.”  Coulson corrected. Jane shoots him a look. Coulson quickly continues. “You'll get your equipment back. You're going to need it to continue your research... which, after today's events, Shield would like to fully sponsor. If that's all right with you.”

Thor takes Jane's hand, kisses it tenderly. She looks at him, her eyes filled with the  fear that she may never see him again. “Whatever fate lies before me, you are part of it.” He takes her in his arms, kisses her passionately. Thor and the Asgardians leap into the Bifrost.

Part 11 The Khaotic  Krab-

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