#is sand gonna tell ray he can’t live without him

[lgbtvegas]

anyway i’m mad

[kennyomegasweave]

Some random Only Friends thoughts about the characters and the relationships so far because this show is kicking my ass. I’m OBSESSED.

Boston. He's just so pathetic. He's been turned down THREE TIMES now for repeat dick and still he persists. Girl stand up. But I have so many questions for him. Why is he like this? Why does he have beef with Mew? Why does he clearly find Ray's massive unrequited crush on Mew funny from his own glass house? Why does he even want Top again so badly? He was turned down before the show, so it can’t just be because of Mew. Is it because Top was the one to top? Because in every sex scene he’s had so far he’s a shitty rough top, but we all know he’s gonna be bouncing on Top’s dick in that car next week. The only time I feel he was sincere was when he said he’s cool with hanging out with Nick outside of sex, but I can’t decide if it’s because he actually likes Nick’s company or if he just likes keeping around his toy that’s hella into him.

Boston continually having sex with Nick and calling him one of his favorites is such an asshole thing. It's giving Ritsu banging Masumi all over the apartment while saying I love you, then saying "oh we were never dating, if that's an issue, we don't have to do this anymore." Just an asshole move. Though at least he let Nick know they’re not dating, but it's not a good thing to keep fucking someone when you know they have feelings for you and you do not have them. Time will tell if Boston will regret his actions in regards to Nick or not.

Nick. Right now, he’s just a poor little meow meow, but I honestly don’t know what he was expecting. Boston is a notorious slut. He also hasn’t lied to him about where they stand. The closest he got to lying is saying Nick is one of his favorites, but I’m not sure that’s actually a lie. Nick is obviously one of Boston’s favorite toys right now because he keeps going back, but I don't think Nick understands that being Boston's current favorite doesn't mean much. Nick really screwed himself choosing anything when Boston gave him the option of fuck buddies or friends with benefits when he clearly doesn’t want either. I’m intrigued to see where living with Sand is gonna go.

Mew. Mew’s going to regret the game he’s playing with Top when he catches real feelings. I think Mew thinks he’s a master manipulator. He acknowledges Top may only be with him because he wants to bang a virgin and says he’s wondering how long he can make Top stay without giving it up, but if the confessionals are to be believed as true, he clearly thinks he’s changing Top. And, in his defense, he might be kinda? Top isn’t getting along with the majority of his friends but Ray’s not going to like anyone Mew dates because it’s not him and Boston really isn’t a friend, let’s be real. Cheum and Mew really seem to be the only friends there and Top and her are getting along swimmingly. I loved him asking Top when he was gonna go home after making him put his new table together and then banishing him to the couch. That’s right. Make him work for it. And, if Boston wasn’t the shittiest friend, Top might not have cheated on him so I can’t even say making him wait was a bad game to play. 

Top. I still can’t read this man. Outside of my pettiness at him wearing tucked in polo shirts and dress pants & shoes while he’s a 22 year old man in college, there’s really not anything to be mad at him for so far. The public ‘be my boyfriend’ was shitty, but Mew let him know that, checked him, and humbled him. I'm not going to say he cheated in that shower cause he really didn't look all that willing. He didn’t touch Boston back once, he literally rolled his eyes, and flat out told him no. I’ve seen a shower scene in another show get called sexual assault when the other dude gave more of a positive reaction than Top did. So it’s interesting how that’s not being discussed. Obviously he has sex with Boston next week, but as of now, he’s turned Boston down THREE TIMES and yet Boston won’t leave him alone. It’s sad. I don’t know for sure if his tragic backstory is true, but I can’t see why he’d lie. It didn’t even get him in Mew’s bed. Plus in the trailer we saw him taking hella pills while sad and sleeping pills can be used in attempts, so I mean…

Ray. He definitely has a drinking problem and his friends all know. He was drinking from a flask in the morning and all Mew did was say “a flask again?” Plus him saying it’s just a little bit to start the day. Oh baby boy no. He has a sad backstory with his dead mom and I feel for him. He stalked Sand all day because he’s clearly interested, but I don’t think he really even knows it yet because he’s still so hung up on Mew. He really said the heart and dick are two separate things and, while that’s such a fuckboy thing to say, it's true for him because right now his heart wants Mew and his dick wants Sand. At some point he’s going to have to reconcile with that and I already know it’s gonna hurt.

I don’t think it’s a good idea for an alcoholic and a dude making his own alcohol to be anything. It’s like how I spent 1.5 years drinking for the cheapest cost ever when I had a thing with a bartender (I did something like 20 shots and had 4 other drinks on my birthday and only spent $12 that night). It’s great in theory, and you can even have real feelings, but it’s terrible in practice. lol

Sand. Oh Sand. I really feel like he’s gonna catch feelings and he knows it, but I also think he knows Ray’s gonna be the one to make it an issue. I admire him getting cockblocked by Ray yet still getting laid that night. I don’t really know why he’s hanging out with Ray. I get the money aspect, but I don’t buy that being the only reason. He clearly sees something in this drunk spoiled ass, but I don’t get it yet. Sorry buddy. Maybe him and Nick can comfort each other when shit hits the fans and leave this whole friend group alone? lol

In conclusion, I'm loving this show. It's beautiful.

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 10 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

To Sakura, world still revolved normally; nothing changed between them, nothing mattered enough for her to behave differently. To Sasuke, the world shifted in its axis, having revealed a glimpse of his true feelings to her however falsely convenient she deemed them to be; everything changed between them, everything mattered enough for him to behave differently.

Like flinching at her slight grazes on his skin or his ears picking up her voice in the middle of the crowd noises or his eyes following the trail of her rose hair tied up in a ponytail, bewitched by the sway of the strands as she tousled to get to the front of the fray, her fingers burning a hole through his sleeve.

“HOMERUN!” The announcer screamed through the microphone, the feedback running through ripples in the throng of people. “Uzumaki Naruto nails a clutch win in the last inning for his team in their first ever nationals!”

Screams erupted around them, and as others jumped and cursed and hugged each other, she stood there frozen in time, her hands on her mouth. “He won. He won, Sasuke.” Her voice quivered, and he knew then that she was crying.

“Yeah, the blonde idiot won.” He allowed himself to smile, picking the blonde among the ruckus that enfolded below.

An hour and lesser filled stadium after, the two went down to congratulate their friend with open arms despite the sweat and the grit. Sasuke went with the flow, jumping up and down and circling about in the middle of the pitcher’s mound. They broke away from each other’s hold after several minutes, breathless in the undertaking, and flushed with all the gleeful screaming.

Two firm pats on Naruto’s back and a ruffle on his porcupine hair. “You did well, idiot.”

“Ah I earned a compliment from grumpy. This truly is the best day of my life!” His teammates broke in laughter in the background.

“I’m so proud of you. I’m so glad we took the bullet train to watch your game,” Sakura said through tears. Perhaps it was the height of the celebration or the ride of her emotions; she reached for Naruto’s face and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Sasuke turned away just in time, thankful for the screams, hoots, and whistles that possessed the student body. In his aversion, he also saw another face who kept looking anywhere but at the two. Hyuga Hinata, his ironic comrade in heartbreak.

Haru was in the group of spectators earlier, a pseudo-coach and mood-raiser for the team, his undercut prominent against his cap. Sasuke guessed him and Hinata were civil enough to be enclosed in a common space. He walked towards her, hands in his pockets.

“I’m gonna confess to him in the cultural festival,” she told him before he could reach her side.

He leaned against the bleachers, shutting out the continuing noises from the student body. In the midst of it, he can hear Sakura scolding all of them for misunderstanding. “And you’re gonna get rejected.”

“At least I told him what I felt,” she replied. “Did you already?”

He shrugged, unsure himself whether he got the point across or not.

“You better make it clear. You berated me for giving mixed signals after all.”

“You don’t hold your punches, Ms. Hyuga.” Sasuke sighed. “I think she rejected me already.”

Hinata let out a small laugh, the first in his vicinity. “Well, I’m just giving back your advice. If you think it so, you should ask again.”

“A second heartbreak won’t do me good.”

“The future has a lot in store.” She finally landed her gaze on Naruto and Sakura who separated now and were engaged by Haru in some funny exchange. “Good luck to us, Uchiha. I’ll take my leave.”

Sasuke detached himself from the bleachers. “Without saying congratulations?”

But Hinata continued on her exit without giving him a reply. To his surprise, it was not only him who caught her leaving; a pair of blue eyes also followed after her, mouth agape, hesitant to call her name not when he was in the presence of her ex-boyfriend and ex-captain. Ah, we’re all stuck in this complex hell, aren’t we?

His phone vibrated against his pocket. On normal days, he would ignore the call, but today wasn’t normal and he had to act nice for the favor he asked.

“Did your best friend win?” Itachi’s voice greeted him.

Sasuke didn’t correct him on the terminology. He just grunted a small yes, and somehow, he can hear his brother smiling on the other end of the call.

“Glad my donation helped fund their team’s expenses. I take it you also spent some for the bullet train?”

Again, another small yes.

“That’s nice.” It was the first time he heard Itachi chuckle again after the accident. “I’m glad you have friends.”

They’re not my friends fell silent on Sasuke’s lips. All he wanted was to consistently rank first, have uninteresting interactions…but all of those foiled because of the two. “Yeah, something like that.”

He heard the beeping pager in the background. “Gotta run, little brother. See you.”

Little brother. Sasuke swallowed back an unfamiliar sound.

It was a sob.

--------------------------------

Sakura tried to look at anything but him – the titles of books on his shelves behind, the heads of other faculty members bobbing, the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock. Kakashi clucked upon seeing her career sheet.

“Haruno, you’ll be graduating salutatorian, just points away from Uchiha Sasuke and yet you haven’t listed a university or a job listing. It’s referral season, and you’ve done a lot of good in this school.” Kakashi held his eyes steady on her, a firm line on his lips. “Don’t you want help?”

She mustered a smile, if that was what they call it nowadays, and handed him a filled out form. Whether he could see that it was written with wavering hands, she’d never know. “I settled on fashion design. I’ve always wanted to be a seamstress myself.”

That was a lie, and she knew Kakashi knew judging by how the firm line stayed. He briefly nodded and let her go.

Sensing the bubbling anxiety, she traversed the noisy hallways and almost sprinted to what has also become her safe space – the hidden spot of the boys behind the library. It wasn’t lunch time yet so Sasuke and Naruto wouldn’t be here. She slumped against the wall, sobs racking throughout her body.

Aimless was what she would describe her direction, untethered her depth, and a black hole her emotions.

“I wish you would let me help you.” Kakashi’s voice made her jump. She scanned her surroundings but cannot find a telling strand of silver in the hedges. He was probably standing on the entrance, just before the canopy of vines. “I didn’t follow you. I just knew the three of you went here for lunch and after-school chats. I’m a faculty, Sakura.”

“Please go away.” She never heard her voice sounded so small…and vulnerable.

“Sometimes, talking it out would make the burden feel lighter.”

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t wait for it. His audible footsteps were an indication he was moving away so she took the bait. If this was one way to be near him, why couldn’t it be in the guise of her pain?

She emerged in the hedges, eyes bloodshot red and strained, only to find him leaning against the wall, waiting with a handkerchief for her.

In an ironic turn of events, he brought her to the program she initiated. When he turned to leave to give her the privacy she needed, she asked him to stay. And that simple silent gesture gave her the courage to face her reality.

That her parents were divorcing, and in a futile attempt to cope, she made herself scarce, almost invisible.

Perhaps she was too much work for a middle-class couple with a lot of bills and unemployed siblings to feed. Maybe if they didn’t have a child that hindered their defining career opportunities to relocate or get promoted to an overseas position. Her outstanding community work and numerous distinction medals just weren’t strong enough to warrant a reconsideration of their decision.

And maybe it was a wrong move to get a part time job and dissociate from the pink-haired, studious Sakura and be the adult black-haired, funky cashier Sakura because it only gave them the idea she can live just fine on her own without any of them worrying about her instead of seeing the whole thing as a call for help.

“If you’re ready, you should share your problem to the two,” her sensei said when they finished with her therapy consultation.

“They have heavier baggage,” she simply replied.

“They’re not comparable. Naruto has an empty baggage, a kid with no past, yet he drags it around. Sasuke has sand for load, it’s leaking at the seams but he refills it. And for you, it could be air or water. It’s because you’re compressing them all inside that they become heavier.” He laid a hand on her head, an action of a sensei to a student. “Thanks for sharing some of those with me, Sakura.”

--------------------------------

Cultural festival was an amalgamation of confessions, last clinchers, and stolen moments. Whoever snatched a dance with someone they liked would be blessed with good relationship – that was how the saying went among the ranks of students.

It was the reason why Sasuke and Naruto hid throughout the day in their spot, content to eat instant ramen, batches of onigiri, and packs of orange and tomato juices. Throngs of freshmen and second years were on the hunt for their feet as dance partner.

“If only they knew I have two left feet,” Naruto grumbled. “I can’t even enjoy the day with Sakura. It’s pathetic to think I’m stuck with you.”

“I second,” Sasuke said. “Do you think she’ll confess to Kakashi later?”

“She hasn’t made a move yet?”

Sasuke shook his head.

“Wait what do you mean you second?”

Minutes of silence ensued. Sasuke put a whole onigiri in his mouth, too flustered to say it right at his face. “I like Sakura.” The words were jumbled with his chewing, and he was sure Naruto didn’t catch it.

But the idiot grinned and laughed maniacally. “The great pretender finally admits! When did you realize it? Did you have the fireworks in your head too?” He even mimicked a rainbow with his hands.

“That’s a rainbow, you idiot.” Sasuke scratched the back of his head. “When she was busy looking at Kakashi playing the piano.”

“Ah, will we ever have the chance?” Naruto snickered. “Let’s confess tonight, grumpy.”

“Already thought of that and already prepared for it.” Despite the seemingly downfall trajectory of their common affections, Sasuke still managed a smirk.

Not to be one-upped, Naruto pulled out his phone and flashed a small bouquet of dahlias. “Ready to be picked up tonight.”

A Greek tragedy, that was them; two best friends falling in love with and being rejected by the same girl.

--------------------------------

Majority of the school population have gathered around the giant bonfire on the campus grounds, but Sakura knew Kakashi would be stuck in his cubicle in the faculty lounge, nose-deep in a novel, headphones in to drown out the noise, and feet propped up on his desk.

Tonight was the night she would bare her other truth naked to him.

But before she could even step foot in his space, she already heard the voice of his favorite book drifting across the nooks and partitions.

“You should be with your students.” Giggling and a sound she would only assume was a string of kisses.

“I don’t have much time with you. Let me be greedy just this time.” Hearing her sensei say that painted him in another light. So there was this very attached Kakashi, far from the laidback and chill professor she knew.

Sakura should turn her heels and join the rest of the student body. She should act like a good student model, ignore her teacher’s affairs, and pretend she was never here. Except she tripped while running, and that summoned the two of them to her aid.

“Sakura? Did you need something?”

She side-eyed Rin Nohara and shook her head, her one only good chance blown to bits by her own recklessness and stupidity. She muttered an apology and starts to walk away with limping feet when Rin stopped her.

“I’ll get a drink in the vending machine. I’ll be back in five minutes Kashi.”

Thank God for women intuition, Sakura thought.

But inevitably she was left alone in the corridor with her heartbeat far stronger than the noise of the band outside around the campfire and the unknowing subject of her admiration. She held tightly to his rubber tie around her wrist, the mark etched deeper by each day she leaves it there mangled with her pulse.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, a smile etched on his face, the soft moonlight falling on his features only to highlight his beauty mark. It was unfair seeing him like this only to have him break her heart.

She knew she didn’t stand a chance, but even then, she had to hear it clear and loud.

“I like you.”

Were three words ever enough to encapsulate the three years of affection she held for him? One word for each year she felt content with glimpses of him, may they only be passing shadows in the halls, an echoing voice in the adjacent room, the silent arbiter in council meetings or a silver strand she could easily pick out in a sea of black of white.

Kakashi looked at her, his smile still etched, his face still immaculate. “That wasn’t a question.”

“And that wasn’t a reply.” It was nature to look away when one was too scared to face truth, but for the many times he helped her, even without him fully realizing the extent, she owed it to him to be brave.

“But you already know the words.” A head pat, the same gesture that gave her comfort in the past was the same gesture that broke her heart just now. How easy it was for the breaker to give and take minute and mindless affections, but what right did she has to think they were special to begin with?

It was the end of an illusory conception.

--------------------------------

A bouquet of dahlias and a bouquet of daffodils were hidden behind Naruto and Sasuke. It was dark, already past seven, the bonfire in its final vestiges, its sputtering flames waiting for last-minute lovers to dance in their splendid light.

Within the shadows came the girl of their dreams, hair untangled and morose emerald irises dipped in pools. Sasuke first noticed the bare wrist, the rubber tie gone, and he knew then that she confessed, and she was heartbroken.

He didn’t need to say anything to the blonde beside him. Her stance was enough to convey her present state of being. What she needed right now were her friends, not aspiring lovers stupid enough to break the friendship label.

And so they hid the bouquets on their backs, safe in the clutches of the dark, and when she reached out to them, their free hands already grasped her trembling fingers in waiting.

There they were, three broken-hearted people, wallowing in their own respective pain, sitting on the dewy grass that would leave stains on their clothes the next morning. When the school band started the last song, Sasuke stood up, abandoning his bouquet on the side, and pulled the other two up.

“Would be a shame to end our last cultural festival like this.”

Ten steps later, they were in the middle of the crowd of couples, three awkward friends holding each other’s hands and stepping on each other’s foot.

“For the love of God, you really can’t dance Naruto. Can’t you do a simple turn to the right?” Sasuke complained.

“Why are you putting all the blame on me? You’re the one who can’t differentiate the right from left!” Naruto spat back.

She laughed, and it somehow stopped their bickering for a moment. Bent at her stomach and eyes clinched shut in crinkles, that was their Sakura.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 11

[serowotonin]

˗ˏˋ 𝗴𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 ˎˊ˗

✰ PAIRING ( terushima yuuji x fem!reader ) ✰ WORDCOUNT ( 1.9k ) ✰ GENRE ( ansgt, songfic ) ✰ WARNINGS ( um one swear word, angst, implications of de*th )

all the memories that we make will never change we'll stay drunk, we'll stay tan, let the love remain and I swear that I'll always paint you golden days ♫ panic! at the disco

✰✰ NOTE.. so uH i think this is the first angst thing i wrote that im actually happy with and i know terushima isn’t someone a lot of ppl write for so to the few ppl who see this</3 hope u guys enjoy:”)

“Ughh where is it,” Terushima grumbled to himself as he pulled open drawer after drawer. He had searched all the cabinets, all the tables, and just about every inch of his apartment but has yet to find his phone charger. 

As he closed the second to last drawer on this shelf, which held no phone charger, he pulled out his phone and saw it had 1% battery remaining. Quickly, he unlocked it and went to his contacts. Before he could make a call though, the screen turned black and he was left staring at a faint reflection of himself.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath. “She’s gonna get upset again.”

He clutched the now dead phone in one hand and ran the other through his hair, sighing in exhaustion. Today had been tiring enough with work and now he had this to deal with.

There was still one more drawer he hadn’t checked though. So, he lifted his hand out of his hair and pulled it wide open. 

In it sat a small box. 

He knew of its contents the moment he laid eyes on it. He also knew opening it now would only make him feel worse, not to mention, it would definitely delay his plans.

But for some reason, a longing for nostalgia or maybe the person that brought such nostalgia, his arms unconsciously moved to take the box into his hands.

Your words echoed in the back of his mind as he traced his fingers along the edges of the box.

“It’ll be like our little time capsule. For us to open when we’re all old and wrinkly…”

A deep sigh escaped his lips. 

Every rational thought that came into his head begged him not to open it, to put it back, to forget he even found it. 

Instead, his fingers moved to lift the cover and lay it down on the floor beside him.

And there you were... a polaroid of you at least. 

Your lips were curved in a sweet smile inviting him in and breaking his heart all over again. Up until now, he could barely recall what your face looked like when you were happy, truly happy. He could only remember the tears and regret you had on your face towards the end… 

But seeing you like this again, the wideness of your smile, the crinkle of your eyes… you radiated a joy and happiness he had begun to forget in you.

He stared at the picture for a good minute before turning it around to see the familiar strokes of your handwriting.

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!’ and under it ‘(first pic taken with the polaroid my baby Yuuji got for me<3)’

“My baby Yuuji,” he whispered.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you,” he sang softly into your ear as he held you from behind, swaying gently in tune. 

“Happy birthday dear Y/n.. Happy birthday to you~”

You turned to kiss the blond and he pulled you even closer to him. 

“I love you babe, happy birthday...” 

The tiredness he had felt just moments ago seemed to have fluttered away when he found you again in the polaroids, and a longing burst from the depths as he put the picture down and picked up another one, his hands once again moving on their own will.

This one had the two of you standing together, backs facing the camera. It was taken at a beach when the sun was still high in the sky and the water glistened blue. But it wasn’t the scenery that appealed to him, nor was it the way the sun wrapped around you two in perfect golden light. 

It was how close you were to him. The physical distance between you two was barely existent. Your arms were wrapped around his waist and his were draped over your shoulders. 

‘Sea breeze, cute outfit, sand between my toes, and 1 Terushima Yuuji… Damn was today great.’

How he would give to be that close to you again.

“Ok 3, 2, 1…”

You clung on to him as tight as you could and he smiled, pulling you closer. 

At the sound of the camera click and the hum of the photo being printed, you let go and quickly turned around to thank the woman for taking the picture.

When you did that he felt off; as if a part of his body was just yanked away. It wasn’t an extreme feeling, nor was it painful in any way. It was more just a lingering emptiness that was put to rest a few seconds later when you were back by his side again.

He put his arm back on your shoulder and peered down at the polaroid in your hand. You were staring at the photo patiently waiting for the colors to fade in. And when it finally did, you smiled satisfactorily at it before tucking it away and flashing another smile to the man right next to you.

Terushima closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to clear his mind. It’s been years, he shouldn’t be dwelling on the past like this.

And yet, there was comfort in the pain the memories brought.

When he opened his eyes, they landed on yet another photo of you. And as he has been for a good part of his life, he was drawn to you. Reaching out a hand, he picked it up and let the memories wash over him once more.

After a while, he set it down and picked up another. And another. And another. Each capturing a moment with you he would never get back. 

It’s been years since he’s had to learn to live without you. Truthfully though, he never did learn how. The sun became a little dimmer, the rain a little harder, the breeze a little less refreshing. The world lost its vibrancy when he lost you. He adapted, got used to the dullness, but he couldn’t learn to live the same anymore...

He picked up another polaroid.

This one didn’t have either of your faces on it. It just showed the two of you holding hands against a dark background.

The bottom held no words but instead an arrow pointing to the right. Terushima turned the polaroid and saw a small envelope attached to the back. Curious, he opened it up and pulled out the piece of paper snuggled inside.

‘This one’s a bit longer than any other note I’ve written for a polaroid but… I kinda just realized smth really important. He drove me out at 3AM in the morning to get food because I said I was hungry. Then we sat in his car listening to some old mixtapes he had. They were pretty crappy but it didn’t matter. I love Terushima Yuuji. I’ve said it a million times before but last night it really hit me, hard. I love him in a way I’d never be able to love anyone else. 

I want to go on more dates with him. more stupid dates, more romantic ones, more 3AM dates, more cuddle dates. And even though it might be selfish of me, I want to spend my every breathing minute with him. 

If I can’t have anything else in this then I just want these golden days of ours to last forever..’

And before he realized it, tears were rolling down his cheeks. Fuck it all. He missed you. He missed the days you had together, the nights spent in each others’ arms. He missed you so much it tore a hole in his heart and all he could see when he looked at the sunlight drifting through the window was just darkness. 

It pained him to know that everything you wanted was all he ever needed. It pained him that he hadn’t realized this until it was too late. And it pained him most that you were never coming back.

Why’d you have to leave? 

He tried so hard to stop asking this question, and for a while, he was successful. But the polaroids, your handwriting, the memories, you.. there was just so much pain in the happiness of the past. 

But you were gone. He had accepted that long ago. 

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Terushima, you in here?” a familiar voice called from outside. 

Right, he forgot about Misaki. Wiping any tears left on his face, he put all the polaroids back in the box, covered the lid, and left the room.

“DADDY!!” a little girl yelled, running at him full speed. He bent down and lifted her into his arms effortlessly.

“Oh you’ve gotten heavier. How much has Misaki been feeding you huh?” he teased.

The little girl pouted as she pointed to the floor signaling she wanted to be put down. Terushima chuckled and did so.

Walking over to a slightly annoyed-looking Misaki, he muttered an apology for not going to pick her up and a thanks for taking care of his daughter. 

“Hey wait, you look like you’ve been crying… Are you ok Teru?” she asked, eyes showing her concern.

He let out a deep sigh. 

“I uh- I found a box with some old pictures of Y/n and I just-”

She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. 

“Look, I know you miss her and I know you know this, but don’t get too stuck in the past. Focus on what you have now,” she said looking in the direction of the young girl who had made her way over to the small pile of stuffed animals on the couch.

He rubbed his face and nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, thank you Misaki.”

“Ok,” she replied with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be going then.” 

Terushima nodded again and after she said bye to his daughter, he walked her to the door.

Turning back he leaned on the wall and looked affectionately at the girl playing on his couch. She was still so young, but it’s been almost 5 years now that he’s taken care of her. 

Time seemed to fly by with her and yet it felt like so long ago he welcomed her to the world. 

He understood now the past and its memories were something to be treasured. It was not something to cling on tightly though. The golden days of the past are gone, but the glittering rays that coated the floor and walls of his living room tell him it’s a new age. 

It was an age he had to cherish well.

Deciding to do something he’s been putting off, he walked back into his room and brought out the box with all its polaroids and memories.

“Yui, come here. I want to show you something.”

She stared at him before taking one frayed teddy bear into her hands and walking over to her father. Taking his outreached hand, she looked at the box he held in his other.

Sitting at the top of the pile was a photo of a beautiful woman. The sun was shining bright in the background and the light swirled around her as if she was wrapped in a golden halo.

“Is she an angel?” Yui asked innocently, pointing to the picture.

“You got that right,” he replied with a sad smile. “She’s the most beautiful angel out there..”

He watched as the young girl picked up the photo, seemingly mesmerized.

“That angel is your mom.”

“My mom?” she echoed. “Mommy is an angel?”

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “She sure is, and you know what? She’s looking out for us from heaven, so you better be a good girl for her, okay?”

✰✰ NOTE.. pls lemme know if u guys thought this was angsty enough sdkjlsdg,,,, i dunno i can’t seem to tell whether angst is painful enough yet;-; also don’t mind the name yui dkglsd it was the first one i could think of T-T

✰✰✰ TAGLIST.. @lilikags @luna-in-luv​ @kureyama​

[vanserraseris]

END OF PART VII - I’m not going to lie, this chapter and the next one are probably a little more on the boring side. It’s just sort of Eris spending some time with Lucien. Shit’s gonna hit the fan soon, but Eris is just going to spend some time at the beach, for no reason really. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!!!

no im SO excited for eris and lucien brotherly boring. BEACH EP BEACH EP BEACH EP BEACH EP

Prince of Ashes. Part VII.

masterlist.

“Give me your shirt.” 

“I don’t obey the orders of anyone below my station,” Eris tilted his head back, his fingers digging into the sand of the beach. He was leaning on his forearms, his eyes shut, the afternoon sun warming his face. Eris liked making snobbish remarks like that around his friends just as much as they liked reminding him that his status as heir amounted to absolutely nothing in their presence.

Micah repeated himself, “Give me your shirt.” 

With an exaggerated sigh, Eris undid the laces of his thin, light brown shirt, throwing it at his friend. “Shit, Micah, you should have asked sooner.” Micah’s nose and cheeks were a frightening red colour, the gold of his tattoos bright against the burned skin of his neck, all because he was too proud to admit that he burned when he stayed out in the sun for too long.

“I hate you all,” Micah declared, lifting Eris’s shirt and putting it over his head like a cloak, shielding himself from the rays of the sun. 

Eris knew Lagos was pouting, mocking, “Poor little Micah, can’t stay out in the sun.” 

“Poor little Micah is going to throw sand at you,” Micah muttered.

Widge smiled, lifting the brim of the sun hat he’d borrowed from his mother. While he looked ridiculous, Widge didn't seem to care. “Not all of us have exceptional magical abilities,” he huffed a laugh as Enya jumped up, licking at his face. Eris swore that hound loved Widge more than him. Lagos was sprawled on his back, pants thrown off to the side, using his own shirt as a pillow as he laid by Eris in his undershorts. He was faintly glowing.

Eris kept expecting Lucien to do the same thing, eyes following Lucien as he played near the water’s edge. Lucien hadn’t shown signs of any other Day Court magic since Lady Morai had suppressed it, but Eris still found himself worrying over it. Rufus was also by the water’s edge, boots off, pants rolled up, and shirt left unbuttoned as he watched over Lucien. Every so often, he would kick water at their youngest brother, laughing every time Lucien told him to stop.

“Your brother is perhaps an even greater menace than you were upon your arrival at my camp,” Micah declared. He awkwardly moved towards Eris, dragging his ass along the sand while still trying to keep the shirt over his head.

“He belongs in a circus,” Lagos added. 

“I like having him there,” Widge managed to get out as Enya continued to lick his cheeks.

“He’s doing alright?” Their father had recently sent Rufus to one of Autumn’s largest war camps. It was located in the South, near the Spring Court border; Eris had been sent there at two decades old with nothing but a sword, brown leathers, and a title he was pretty sure he’d never be able to live up to. Eris was proud to admit that over two centuries later, he could claim being a half-decent commander of his father’s armies - not fantastic at combat, but damn-good at military strategy.

Eris had heard that Rufus, despite his more care-free attitude, was doing quite well, but it was always Eris’s first instinct to assume that Rufus was going to get himself killed or cause some sort of international catastrophe. Especially with political tensions in Prythian so high lately, Eris found that he’d become quite the mother hen, constantly asking his friends how Rufus was holding up. “He’s absolutely mad,” Micah laughed, “I could throttle him sometimes.”

“Cauldron, does he write his reports backwards?” Eris smiled just thinking about it, “Rufus used to do shit like that to his tutors, you can read them in front of a mirror.” 

“He walks around the camp with a near-empty cognac bottle filled with apple juice, and makes bets on whether or not he can hit moving targets with his bow and arrows,” Lagos said. “He won 50 gold marks from me before I found out what he’d been doing.” 

“Serves you right,” Eris grinned.

“He also tells us the most interesting things,” Micah hummed. He nudged at Eris with his knee. “Things that you neglect to mention.” 

Lagos didn't sound too amused as he said, “Told us he was afraid for your life.”

Eris knew exactly what Rufus had told them. “If this is about Lizaveta—” 

“Of course it’s about Lady Lizaveta,” Lagos leaned up on an elbow. “Your choice in lovers is abysmal, truly.” 

“Don’t offend me,” Micah mumbled.

Lagos ignored him, “It’s like you dive headfirst into relationships that are bound to get you killed.” Eris sneered, mostly because Lagos was right. If his father ever learned of the countless male lovers Eris had been with over the centuries, Eris was almost certain that Beron would kill him. Or if he found out about the lesser faeries, or the females of common birth. Eris had been very good at ignoring his father’s rants about degeneracy when he’d been much younger.

But Lizaveta was a full-blooded noble, and Eris didn’t really see the problem. “How might this relationship kill me?” 

“You’re sneaking around with a female who’s rumoured to have killed her own husband in his sleep less than a decade ago. Does that seem like a good idea?” 

“I’m sure he deserved it,” Widge muttered absently, “Lots of lords in Autumn deserve it.” Everyone turned to face him, but he was looking off into the distance, no longer paying any attention to them.

Micah placed a gentle hand on Eris’s knee, “We’re just messing with you.” Eris knew they meant well, but his friends had a horrible habit of sticking their noses into Eris’s business, all hidden behind the guise that they “cared for his well-being,” as they so often reminded him. 

“Just make sure you’re not her next victim,” Lagos added, “And do try and keep your father from finding out.”

Eris scowled, “Your faith in me is astounding.” He’d had centuries worth of practice in keeping his lovers a secret from the rest of his family and ensuring that rumours didn’t make their way to the always-listening ears of Autumn Court aristocrats. It was exhausting. He looked away from his friends to make sure Lucien and Rufus hadn’t drowned while he’d been distracted.

Lucien seemed to have convinced Rufus to play some sort of aggressive game with him, spinning Lucien around in his arms before throwing him deeper into the ocean. Lucien landed in the water with a big splash, Rufus roaring with laughter. Eris would have scolded them both had Lucien not jumped up from the water with a huge grin on his face, looking very foolish as he struggled to run at Rufus.

“Just be careful, we quite enjoy your company.” Micah squeezed his knee once before moving his hand, his fingers now dragging through the sand. 

Eris finally looked away from his brothers after deciding that they would be fine, turning to face Micah again. “Let’s talk about what happened in Spring.” 

“Yes, let’s talk about how we’re on the verge of another war, Eris would rather talk about our impending doom than his lover.” Eris glared at Lagos.

Micah scoffed, “There’s not going to be a fucking war, both of them are too young - untried. They aren’t going to do something so stupid.” 

Eris considered this. Rhysand and Tamlin had just become new High Lords, perhaps they would start a war just to prove that they could. “If somebody killed my mother, I might start a war.” 

“You might start a war just for fun.” Eris kicked sand at Lagos, a crooked smile on his face that was becoming more and more rare. Eris knew Lagos simply meant well.

Lagos returned the smile, dimples showing. Lagos was perhaps the only one of his friends that constantly bothered Eris for being a cruel prince of the Autumn Court.  

“Cauldron, you wouldn’t do that either,” Micah seemed so sure. Eris sometimes wished he had that amount of confidence in his ability to make good choices. 

Widge furrowed his brows, looking up from what he was in the process of writing in messy, scrawled script in the sand. “Wait, what happened in Spring?”

Somebody would explain it to him later, Eris thought. “I wonder if Rhysand will be a better High Lord than his father.” It was no secret that the Hewn City was more horrible than any part of Beron’s territory. Eris had despised the place since the first moment he’d stepped foot in it. He’d take his own two-faced city of Calchas over that wretched city any day. 

“Probably not,” Micah adjusted the shirt over his head, “But at least he’s better looking.”

Eris would have to agree. With the dark hair and those star-lit, violet eyes, Rhysand was one of the better looking faeries Eris had ever seen. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, “I like his general better.” 

Micah grinned, “What about the shadowsinger?” Eris grinned back, “Fancy the shadowsinger, do you?” 

“Who doesn’t?” 

“Those people are from the Night Court.” Widge looked confused, much like he usually did. 

“Very observant,” Lagos muttered.

“We’re talking about Tamlin and Rhysand,” Eris explained. “The new High Lords.” 

“Heard about that,” Widge said with a nod. “Sounds like a mess.” With a shake of his head, almost like he was clearing his thoughts, Widge went back to whatever he was writing in the sand without so much as a second glance in their direction. Eris shifted slightly so that he could more clearly see what Widge was doing. He’d drawn three interconnected circles in the sand, numbers and formulas surrounding them.

Eris had always enjoyed watching Widge work, liked trying to figure out what he was doing, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything as he tried to understand where Widge was going with this. Definitely not smart on his part, he hadn’t been expecting so much water to crash onto his head, leaving him completely soaked. Widge yelped as some of the water fell on him as well. 

“What the fuck,” Eris growled.

“My circles,” Widge whined, the water having ruined whatever he was writing. Eris hoped he remembered what it was, it had seemed interesting. He heard everyone’s laugh. From the deep rumble of Micah, to the obnoxious cackle of Lagos, to the loud howl of Rufus. It should have come as no shock that Rufus would try and pull a prank on Eris, no doubt with Lucien’s help. He was rather disappointed in himself for not keeping an eye on the two biggest troublemakers in all of Prythian.

Eris looked up at Rufus with a glare, he could see the steam in the air around him as he used some of his magic to dry off. “Honestly, Rufus,” Eris sneered, teeth bared. 

“My mistake, didn’t see you sitting there.” He’d filled his fucking boot with water and thrown it at him. 

Eris ran a hand through his still damp hair, “You’ve disappointed me.” Rufus just smiled, tugging once on Lucien’s braid.

“Lucien told me to do it,” Rufus was very good at playing the part of innocent victim. His auburn brows were raised, his russett eyes wide. “No I didn’t,” Lucien instantly stopped cackling, defending his honour. “Eris, he’s the disappointment, I’d never.” 

“Little assholes,” Eris mumbled, shoving Lucien playfully. Lucien laughed again, dropping into the sand right beside him. Rufus sat by Lagos, winking at Eris before he sprawled on his back, Enya trotting over to lie down by his head.

Eris was glad for moments like this - when his father wasn’t in Autumn and he had the time to spend with the people he cared about. He knew it was a weakness, the fact that he cared about them, but he'd missed them all. Rufus was stuck at the war camp with his friends, Lucien was stuck in the Forest House, and Eris was stuck in his territory far away from them both.

Eris had been staying away from Lucien anyway, visiting less and less. It’d been months since he’d last seen the little runt, but Eris knew it was for the best. 

“This was really nice, Eris,” Lucien said with a small smile, his face turned towards the sun. He looked happy. 

Eris nodded once, closing his eyes and turning his own face towards the sun, “I thought it was really nice, too.”

Perhaps it was very foolish of Eris to be spending his valuable time frolicking on beaches, but all he wanted to do right now was pretend everything would be alright. Pushing all his worries aside, the sound of waves crashing along the shore, his toes curling into the white sand of the beach, Eris could almost forget he was the heir of the Autumn Court.

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part 9

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 2,800

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly, multiple times a week; will have about ?15? parts total.

---

"Dynamene," a soft voice nudged her hours later. "Dynamene, wake up, we're almost there."

Dynamene opened her eyes groggily and looked up at Eione, whose shoulder she was still leaning against. "Huh?"

"Home; we're almost home." Eione smiled and drew back the carriage curtains to show her, letting in the bright sunshine. Dynamene sat up, quickly awoken by the warmth of the sunlight, and pressed herself to the window.

The rocky terrain and stormy weather had completely disappeared, giving way to rolling green hills lined with thick forest and sandy bluffs. The sky was clear without a cloud in sight, and Dynamene drank in the view of the pristine ocean under the bright blue sky. The gentle waves broke with crests like diamonds in the bright sun, before fading back into the cerulean waters. Dynamene's face lit up and she turned back to Eione, beaming. "It's just as beautiful as I remember."

"Isn't it?" Eione grinned. "We're nearly there. Just around this bend..."

The line of carriages rattled down the well-worn dirt road, turning around a thick grove of fig trees before beginning the final descent down a steep hill.

At the bottom was a sandy delta, flanked on the far side by a gorgeous palace made of sandstone and marble. The palace looked as if it had grown out of the bluffs as a natural extension of it, the exterior asymmetrical and rough but pleasing in a busy way. Sea glass in every color wrapped in whimsical patterns around the pillars and windows before winding down to the ground and forming a mosaic walkway to the entrance.

The ocean flowed into a cerulean lagoon before the palace, where the mouths of several small rivers met. Around the lagoon were large tide pools in which Dynamene could spot people and merfolk playing and basking.

There was a sudden shout from the distance, and the people began to stop what they were doing, looking towards the carriages. Then there was a loud chorus of calls and cheer, and the people scrambled in every which way. A trumpet sounded; now everyone knew that the Nereids were nearly home.

Before Dynamene could say anything, a booming voice came from the oceanside. "Greetings, Nereids!" She turned towards the other window to see a parade of merpeople headed by a handsome merman keeping pace with the carriage, leisurely leaping out of the water to speak to them. "Welcome home!"

Eione leaned over Dynamene and threw the window up. "Aye, merfolk! I thought I smelled fish!"

"Nay, Nereid," the merman replied smoothly. "It is yourself, I reckon." He gave Eione a mischievous wink.

Eione feigned a gasp of offense and flicked her hand. A spray of ocean water splashed the merman's face, but he laughed easily. "We will tell your parents of your arrival. Welcome home!" With that, he and the rest of the group sped ahead down along the beach, their tails glimmering in reds and greens under the surface of the water.

"Ah, that slimy fish," Eione tutted, but she tossed her hair in amusement. "It's so good to be back." She took in a deep breath before exhaling dramatically. "I can breathe here, you know?"

"Yes. Yes, I do," Dynamene whispered, unpinning her travel cloak. It was if the weight of the world had fallen off her shoulders with the fabric, and she began to help Eione get their bags sorted.

Minutes later, they had arrived before the palace. Beings of all sorts had gathered to greet their arrival with much a-do; fresh-water nymphs, dryads, fauns, satyrs, and merfolk. Familiar faces were on every side, and Dynamene lost track of the number of hugs she'd clasped with people she hadn't seen since goodness knows when. Old jokes were exchanged, and new ones made, as the crowd helped the Nereids unload their luggage from the carriages.

"Dynamene!" Actaea called from where a dryad was helping her lift down a trunk. "Look who it is!"

Dynamene turned and erupted once again into a wide smile. A boy with messy chestnut hair and freckles like hers was running down the path from the palace towards the group. "Dynamene!" He shouted. "Actaea! Eione! Everyone!" He flung himself into Dynamene's arms, and she squeezed him tight, rocking from side to side.

"Nerites," she whispered happily, taking the scent of seawater in her little brother's hair. "It's so good to see you again."

He pulled back to look at her with a frown. "You've gotten taller again. But I thought I would get taller than you someday?"

Dynamene laughed and ruffled his hair lovingly. "I think you have a few more centuries yet, little brother."

"That's fine," he replied. "As long as it happens someday." He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards one of the inlets. "I can't believe you're finally here! Even Elasippus came to greet you all today, too!"

Dynamene knelt down at the edge of the small bluff. Basking in the shallow water of the pool was a young merman, barely out of boyhood, with strawberry blond hair strung with ocean droplets and a shimmering green tail. He looked up in surprise at Dynamene. "Hello, Dynamene."

"Elasippus!" She smiled at her brother's friend warmly. "It's been too long. Your tail's gotten longer, hasn't it?"

"Um, yes," he answered shyly, fins curling back and forth. "I just thought I'd come and say hello, since I've known you all for so long..."

"Don't be awkward, Elas," Nerites sighed. "We've been best friends for ages; it's okay to talk to my sisters."

Dynamene laughed. "It's okay, it's been a few years. It's still weird to see that you two have gotten bigger, though," she sighed. "I guess I still remember when you were both little tadpoles, crying when the sand got in your eyes."

"Hey, we're not crybabies anymore!" Nerites protested. "Actually, me and Elas have been exploring a lot recently. We found this underwater cave that's full of oysters, and we've been collecting them to harvest. Some of them even have pearls. We're gonna go again today, actually. If you want, you should come with us!"

"When? Now?" She asked in disbelief as Nerites pulled on her hand.

"Yeah! Come on!"

"Well..." She looked back at her other sisters, who were still bringing the luggage in.

"Go ahead, Dyna," Ianeira called. "We'll join you in a little bit."

"Scratch that," Eione jumped in, boldly tossing off her peplos and chiton. "I'm going with now. Come on, Dynamene! Last one into the water is rotten caviar!" She took a running start and dove head-first into the rippling water.

"Well, if it's alright with everyone else," Dynamene sighed dramatically, undoing her own peplos. "I suppose..."

And bolstered on by the happy exclamations of her brother, she dove in.

---

Hours later, Dynamene pulled herself back up onto shore, breathless from laughter. "Here," she tossed a pearl to Nerites. "Almost dropped that one."

The other Nereids broke the surface close-by, laughing and wringing out their hair. "Did you see how fast Thoe dissipated when that ray went by?" Eione teased. "I thought she was a cloud of silt for a moment."

"Hey, those things have barbs, you know," Thoe sniffed as she smoothed her wet bangs away from her forehead.

"I wish we could've seen some whales," Callianassa sighed as she finished reforming her hands. She gave her fingers a graceful wiggle. "It's been forever since I've heard a whale call."

"There are a lot of whales at the next cove down. They came here for the birthing season," Elasippus told her as he carefully pulled a strand of seaweed from his hair. "We can show you later if you want."

"We gave a few of them nicknames," Nerites added, looking up from where he was admiring his satchel full of freshly harvested pearls. "Two babies have been born so far; we named one Fig and the other Olive."

"That's so... unimaginative," Dynamene teased him good-naturedly, and he splashed her with water.

"You come up with better names, then!"

"I will," she replied, sticking her tongue out at him.

"I bet I can come up with better names than both of you," Ianeira said, splashing them both. "Just give me until after supper."

"Speaking of supper, I'm starving," Eione groaned. She pulled her sandy chiton back on over her head before giving her hair one last shake. "What's on the menu?"

"Why don't we go inside and find out?" Ianeira said. "It must be nearly time to eat, anyways."

"Sounds good to me," Dynamene affirmed, gathering her clothes back up to get dressed. She paused for a moment, scouring the sand.

"Looking for something, Dynamene?" Elasippus asked.

"No, it's fine, just found it!" Dynamene sighed with relief. She brushed the sand away from where it had lightly blown over her bracelet. "False alarm." She quickly drew it back onto her wrist, carefully dusting any remaining sand off.

"That's pretty," Nerites said in awe. "Where did you get it?"

"Oh, um," Dynamene blushed, smoothing her wet hair away from where it clung to her neck. "Lord... Lord Poseidon gave it to me not long ago, as a birthday present."

"Really?" He asked in surprise. "Wow. He didn't get you guys jewelry, did he?" He asked the other sisters tactlessly.

The sisters exchanged a silent look for half a moment before Ianeira cleared her throat. "Come on, everyone! I'm sure Mother and Father would like to see us at long last as well."

The rest of the girls finished dressing and began to make their way up the beach towards the glittering palace. Nerites said goodbye to Elasippus and ran after them.

"Dynamene, are you coming?" Actaea asked, pausing to look back at her younger sister. Dynamene was still carefully braiding her hair.

"I'll be there in a moment!" Dynamene called back, waving her on. "I just want to finish braiding my hair before it dries again. I'll meet up with you guys at the palace."

"Alright, don't be too long!" Actaea disappeared over the sandy hill, leaving Dynamene alone with Elasippus.

Elasippus remained for a moment, watching in fascination as Dynamene wove her hair back into two braids. "Beautiful," he whispered.

"Mm?" Dynamene looked up.

"The bracelet," he said hastily. "Lord Poseidon was very thoughtful. It's gorgeous."

"Isn't it?" Dynamene sighed and held out her hand so the merman could take a better look. "It's mother-of-pearl, my favorite."

"So it sounds like you get along with him, huh?" Elasippus swam in an idle circle. "That's good. I hear he's not so easy to be around."

"No, he's not," Dynamene admitted. "But, you know..." She remembered the times on the beach with him, and the way he had brushed her hair back. "He's not so bad, deep down." She began to blush.

"I see," Elasippus said slowly, watching Dynamene's face turn pink. "If you say so." He turned to look at the setting sun. "You and your sisters are really brave, you know. I don't think I could ever live with him. Not after what happened with his brother."

Dynamene stared at him for a moment blankly. Then she realized what he was referring to - Poseidon's killing of Adamas.

She stared back down at the ocean. "I suppose so. I guess I can see how that would make people... uncomfortable."

"Does it bother you?" Elasippus asked earnestly, tail flicking.

Dynamene bit her lower lip. What happened with Adamas was justified, wasn't it? I don't know all that was said between them, but Adamas did want to start a civil war, right? So... Is Poseidon really in the wrong for what he did? "No. I... I think he did the right thing," she said, but her voice was shaky.

Elasippus sensed her discomfort and frowned apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make things awkward. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's alright," Dynamene said quickly. "It's an honest question. I suppose I just don't really think about it much. We'd only been at the palace for a century when it happened, and I was still just a child, so my sisters didn't say much about it around me." Her thoughts went back to that day; what little she remembered of it, that was.

The Nereids had left the palace to picnic on the beach that fateful afternoon. They didn't want any part of Adamas's visit; he was nothing but a jealous troublemaker, and they wanted no part of whatever ill-will he brought.

But when the sound of marble breaking echoed out from the palace, they had rushed back out of concern for their master. Dynamene remembered tagging along behind Actaea, barely able to see past the rest of her sisters as they crowded into the great hall where Poseidon had received Adamas...

"No, don't look," Actaea had said suddenly, covering Dynamene's eyes with her hands. "Don't look, Dynamene." Her sister's voice had wavered in horror. She had immediately steered Dynamene back out of the room, rushing her as fast as she could go. But Dynamene's ears were free, and she heard the rest of her sisters gasp and scream at the sight that greeted them in the great hall.

They hadn't been expected to clean up the mess. Poseidon had ordered them to leave the body where it lay, and continue on with their day as if nothing had happened. The other unseen servants of the palace took care of Adamas's body and the wreckage, and the following day, the great hall was spotless. The wall had been repaired, the table replaced, and no sign remained of the gory mess that Poseidon had made out of his older brother.

Dynamene shuddered at the memories. "Even now, no one speaks of it, especially at Lord Poseidon's palace. That's what he wanted, so we must obey. I don't think we would talk about it even if we could, though. It was so brutal." She swallowed. No one likes remembering that day. That was the first time we truly realized how powerful, and dangerous, Poseidon was.

"That's awful," Elasippus sympathized. "I hope it doesn't haunt you too much."

"No," Dynamene sighed. "No, I guess I owe Actaea for that. I never saw the... aftermath of Poseidon and Adamas's argument. I hear it was a horrible sight."

The two of them sat in silence for a while longer, neither of them knowing what to say. "I'm sorry," Dynamene said finally, getting to her feet. "I didn't mean to make things so dreary."

"No, not at all," Elasippus said quickly. "It's good to talk about things like that sometimes, right? If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen. It doesn't bother me too much."

Dynamene smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you, Elas. I'm glad my brother is friends with you."

Now it was Elasippus whose face was pink. "It's... It's nothing much, we just have fun together. I'm glad I got to see you all again today."

"Me too. We should all meet again before we go back to the palace," Dynamene beamed. "I had a lot of fun today."

"I'm glad," Elasippus smiled back. "See you later." He sank back under the amber waves.

"Bye," Dynamene called after him. She watched his tail splash through the surface for a ways before he dove deeper into the water, returning to his underwater home. Left alone with her thoughts once more, she sighed.

I'm sure what Poseidon did was justified, even if it was violent. Over the top, even. Terrifying. But I guess that's just how Poseidon is; why would someone like him hold back? I know he'd never hurt us, at the very least.

She stared out at the setting sun, lost in thought, twisting the bracelet around her wrist.

Poseidon... I hope things are okay back at the palace. I hope the visit with Hades went as well as can be expected.

If you were here, I wonder... What would you say to me? She looked away from the sun's burning orange rays to the ocean. The dark hue of the water brought to mind Poseidon's eyes, so beautiful, yet so often cold and empty. Lately, though... Was it just her imagination, or was there truly life in them when he looked back at her?

 Would you tell me that you don't regret what you did? Even if you'd never harm me, surely there are still times that you hurt others. Or was Adamas an isolated event?

 She sighed before turning to make the journey back to the palace. This trip was meant to be relaxing, and worrying over the past did no good. Surely everyone was wondering where she was by now.

---

Author’s Notes: Another chapter that took on a life of its own. I think it'll work okay, though.

Next chapter is one I've been waiting to write almost since I started this fanfic. So much angst. I can't wait.

[convindreamer]

Mermay (Convin)

There are two types of merfolk: one that lives in the warm clear blue of the carol reefs and the other that lives in the colder darker depths. The ones that live in the warm waters look closer to human, apart from their tails; the ones that live in the cold waters have evolved to have webbed hands and scales on their torsos to help them swim faster. Connor is one of the warm water merfolk. Gavin is one of the cold water merfolk. They don’t mix. Cold water merfolk think the warm water dwellers are weak and soft and way too full of themselves. Warm water merfolk tell stories to their children at night that if they’re very bad the cold water dwellers will come and drag them down into the depths never to be seen again.

So ...

Gavin is out hunting for lunch, and he spots a particularly tasty looking red snapper so takes chase, his perfectly streamlined body torpedoing through the dim cold water; he snags his tail on yet another sharp rock outcrop, potentially adding to the numerous scars he already had along his tail and torso, but doesn’t stop until — he realises the water around him has got warmer, instantly making him uncomfortable. He looks up and realises that he’s closer to the surface than he should be and very far out of his own territory. The red snapper has gone and he’s surrounded by fish he doesn’t immediately recognise.

Needing to get his bearings he carefully climbs the nearest rock formation, his webbed fingers perfect for adhering to the craggy surface. The sun is hot and he closes his eyes and turns his head away from the blinding bright light. He shouldn’t have come up here. It wasn’t safe. He was too close to the land. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight he moved higher up out of the water and stopped, his heart beating a scared rhythm. There on a sandy rock, basking himself in the suns rays, was not only a warm water dwellers, but also the most breathtakingly beautiful mer he’d ever seen. Gavin could only stare, lifting himself higher on the rocks to see better. The mer was oblivious, enjoying the sea spray crashing on his tail and body.

Gavin caught sight of his webbed hands splayed on the rocks in front of him and shook his head, angry at himself for wasting his time daydreaming about this pretty poser. The twofers (this is what Gavin calls humans bc they have two legs) hunted in this area and if that dumb mer wasn’t careful he’d find his tail on the end of a hook, and himself carted off to some aquarium or other.

Gavin slunk back across the rocks and dove back into the too warm water. He was still hungry and the fish swimming around him were too small to do anything but dull the ache in his stomach. Damn that red snapper for getting away and leading him so far away from home. Gavin dove deeper, leaving the surface far below.

Several weeks later, Gavin’d almost completely forgotten about the pretty posing mer, with his perfect tail glinting into the sunlight, and his perfect smooth torso unmarked by a single scale, and his perfect hair swept back from his face — and then Gavin spotted a flash of movement above him, and it was him. The same mer he’d seen sunbathing beautifully on the sand, and he was swimming against the current, struggling to put distance between himself and the dark shadow of the twofer hunting vessel above. Gavin had seen this too many times not to know what was going to happen next. The twofers had obviously tagged the mer while he was on the surface and now they could pinpoint him with almost perfect accuracy. The harpoon came out of nowhere and pierced straight through the soft flesh of the mer’s tail, the hook catching and starting to drag him back and up. Gavin took chase, gaining speed, but the mechanism dragging the mer out of the ocean was faster. And then the mer grabbed onto a nearby rock outcrop and held on for dear life, the only problem being his stupid unwebbed fingers were useless at gripping and holding firm and soon he was only stopping his ascent by the skin of his finger tips.

Gavin saw the moment the mer saw him, he saw the instant flash of fear, but that didn’t stop him from pulling out his blade and hacking at the metal coil attached to the harpoon. The mer screamed in pain as the harpoon ripped deeper into his flesh but Gavin was intent only on getting him free. The metal quickly dulled his blade and Gavin threw it aside using his razor sharp teeth to bite through the last the few strands

The mer was free but had passed out due to the pain and Gavin did the only thing he knew to do and wrapped his arm around the mer’s waist speeding them away from the surface and down into the safety of the dark. Gavin couldn’t bring the top dweller home, he couldn’t be seen fraternising with their sort, so instead he took him to his private hideout.

The cave was small but they were still able to fit at a squeeze. Up close, this mer was even more beautiful than Gavin had thought, but he was bleeding out and Gavin went to work cleaning and disinfecting the wound, and he continued to keep the wound clean for the next day, only leaving to catch food, until the mer finally woke up.

Again Gavin saw that fear flash in his eyes, and his anger spiked.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna eat you.”

The mer looked around them, taking in the cave, the supplies, his bandaged tail and finally looked back at Gavin.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“Whatever,” Gavin snapped and went out to catch some fish.

Connor, that was the pretty mer’s name. A pretty name for a pretty mer, and he liked to talk. He found everything of interest. All the unfamiliar fish that swam by, and their unfamiliar tastes. He marvelled at the lichen on the rocks and almost got his fingers caught in a few oyster shells as he reached in to get the pearl and they clamped shut. In the end, Gavin got him a pearl and Connor beamed at him so happily, it made Gavin’s stomach do funny little backflips. Connor almost died with happiness when Gigi, Gavin’s catfish, turned up to say hello.

“You’re not what I expected from, well, from a cold water dwellers.”

“You were going to say ‘webber’, weren’t you?’

Connor looked chastised.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve been told my whole life that your kind are dangerous. I was told your webbed hands were slimy. But they’re not. They feel so nice on my tail.”

Connor blushed and then so did Gavin.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you’re told.”

Connor was able to swim a little now without too much pain, his tail was healing nicely, and they’d swim together, their tails sometimes touching, Gavin showing Connor all his favourite places; but oddly enough, whenever Gavin brought up the idea that Connor could probably go home soon, a subject both of them had been avoiding, Connor’s wound would suddenly feel much worse and he’d go back to hiding in the cave.

“We both know you’re fine now.” Gavin bit out reluctantly.

“No, it still hurts.”

Gavin levelled a look at him.

“I don’t want to go.” Connor admitted. “I like it here, with you.”

“You can’t stay here, Connor.” Gavin muttered. “You don’t belong here.”

They both fell silent.

It was true.

Their kinds didn’t mix.

This was just a fluke.

An accident.

It was never supposed to happen.

But it had happened.

“We can carry on seeing each other.” Connor says hopefully. “I can come down, you can come up, and we’ll meet somewhere in the middle.”

Gavin did want that. He really did. But if his kind found out, he’d be ostracised. They already lived in a delicate balance and it wouldn’t take much to tip things over into the worse.

“It’s dangerous.”

“I like you.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“I want to keep seeing you.”

“Connor.”

“Please.”

“I’m sorry.”

Connor looked heartbroken but nodded, accepting Gavin’s decision.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be waiting.”

Gavin couldn’t take the risk despite how much he still wanted to see Connor, and he endured the next few angst filled weeks mourning his loss until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Going against his better judgement he swam as fast as possible to the rendezvous point Connor had given him, convinced that Connor wouldn’t be there, and his heart leapt when he saw that he was wrong. Connor was there, just as he’d promised to be, waiting patiently for Gavin. Gavin stopping, and did nothing more than float for the next few moments, just staring at his pretty mer, with his perfect tail and perfect torso and perfect hair that swept back from his face, and was just thankful that Connor hadn’t given up on him.

Gavin uncertainly approached and Connor turned slowly towards him and the smile that lit Connor’s face told him he’d made the right decision. Whatever came next, they’d face it, together.

And so they enter into a secret relationship, where they both have to be careful not to let anyone else know. Like Romeo and Juliet only in this one nobody dies and they all live happily ever after in the end.

[justlikeeddie]

I always mean to do an end-of-year fic roundup post and then never get round to it, but...... literally what else am I doing rn

merely players RPF, David Tennant/Michael Sheen, 2.9k, E

“You like this?” Michael asks, honestly intrigued. “You've done this before?”

David looks slightly surprised, but he says, “Yes.” And then, after a moment of consideration, “Not with a man.”

(Sorry, but realising I wrote this THIS YEAR - or at least it was this year yesterday - is absolutely insane. The faint memory of writing this feels like decades ago. Lives ago. If you’d explained the concept of “Staged” to me I would have killed you on the spot)

Your Mirror Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale, 28k, E

“What I’m saying is,” said Crowley, carefully, “You. Me. Running around up here by ourselves. Nobody really paying us that much attention, as long as we put in the paperwork.” He glanced briefly at the ceiling, and then at the ground, and then back at Aziraphale. He flickered his tongue over his lips, raised his eyebrows, and said, softly, “I think that we may have some mutual interests.”

Crossing The Line, written with @laurashapiro-noreally​ Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale, 10.5k, E

“So how do we actually -- make it happen?” Crowley asked. “Funnily enough, you’re the only one of us who’s possessed someone before.”

“Have you never?”

Crowley pulled a face, shook his head. “Nah. So unsubtle.” Aziraphale, despite everything, smiled again, less nervously. “Well, bit of a last resort, isn’t it? It’s practically admitting you’re not up to the job, temptation-wise. Oh, I couldn’t actually convince that human to do anything immoral, but don’t worry, I just puppeted them like a bodysuit instead. Amateur hour, seriously.”

because it’s you that sets the test X-Men, Charles/Erik, 7k, E

Erik says, “I’m not afraid of you, you know.”

Charles frowns at this. “No, of course not. You shouldn’t be. Why would you be?”

Charles, who can sift through a mind as easily as sand, could presumably shatter a person’s reality from the inside, if he tried. Or without trying. Erik doesn’t know. It makes his pulse quicken, when he thinks about it.

“I think I probably should be, actually,” Erik says. “But I’m not.”

form and land X-Men, Charles/Erik, 0.9k, G

Charles picks up his brandy and knocks it back, and looks down at the chessboard. “It's been a while since I've played.”

This is not the man that Erik remembers. Charles would never have evaded a matter so important; hell, Charles was never the one to break eye contact. Charles drank exclusively for pleasure, and not with the brisk, mechanical movement of someone taking their alcohol medicinally.

“I'll go easy on you,” Erik says, and a strange kind of sorrow twists at him. “It might finally be a fair fight.”

The Parting Glass, written with @the-omnishambles Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale, 16.8k, G

“But anyway, what are you doing for lunch?”

Aziraphale blinked. “This is an abbey, Crowley, you don’t do anything for lunch, you just – eat lunch. In silence.”

“Sounds dull, but all right.”

“What? You obviously can’t join.”

Voluntary Stupidity Due South, Fraser/Vecchio, 1.3k, G

But when he does speak, all Fraser says is, “—Ray.” It’s weird, the way he says it. Not the way Fraser usually says his name, not any of the ways Fraser usually says his name. It sounds surprised and a little strangled, but sort of soft, too. Almost kind.

Ray kind of hates it, actually. Hates that Fraser can look him in the eye, right after Ray went berserk and kissed him in the middle of a bank heist death trap, and then sound like that.

North West, written with @the-omnishambles​ Due South, Fraser & Vecchio, 11k, G

Of course, Ray reflects - merging seamlessly onto an underpopulated freeway - he mainly suggested this plan out of guilt. He’d been casting around for things that might help, back when Fraser was convalescing and miserable and Ray would have done anything to make amends. Then there seemed no way to back down. You can’t break a deathbed promise, and hilariously (is it hilarious? Ray isn’t sure whether he’s far enough away from all this to have a sense of humour yet), Fraser’s never suggested taking a bullet might be enough, and Ray no longer has amends to make.

Maybe Fraser just plain wants them to go. Maybe he thinks it’ll be good for them, or maybe he actually does need the help. Who the fuck knows what the Mountie is thinking, ever? The point is, there’s no turning back now.

Deduction Due South, Fraser/Kowalski, 3.9k, E

Ray has rather long fingers, his nails cut short. His thumb is bent into an obtuse angle against the glass. His silver bracelet hangs as usual on his wrist, producing the faintest click-swishing sound whenever he moves his arm. And the nearness of him brings a raft of familiar smells: coffee, a sugary sweetness, stale smoke, motor oil.

“Fraser?” says Ray, from above him.

Fraser starts, and takes the glass from his hand. “Thank you.”

“Uh— ” says Ray, and then clears his throat. “Did you just smell me?”

Trash Hard Core Logo, Joe Dick/Billy Tallent, 3.7k, M

“I thought you were gonna walk right off stage. But then you looked at me and you didn’t look angry, you looked— like— I’d never seen you look like that, man, I don’t know. It was like you’d ascended.”

Billy thinks it’s funny, dumb, when Joe says things like that— or else he thinks he’s showing off. He curls his mouth into that little smile that manages to be indulgent and mocking all at once. Usually catches the eye of whoever Joe’s trying to tell the story to, maybe a quirk of the eyebrow. He’s always trying to get other people to gang up on Joe with him, in tiny, pointless ways. Like he’s trying to prove to Joe that he can make friends with other people, and that he can do it better than Joe can.

Also, big shout-out to what felt like hundreds of other fandoms on this hell journey of a year that I apparently became re-invested in enough to read fic, even if not to write it, which I think were uhhhh DOCTOR WHO. HANNIBAL. JONATHAN STRANGE. 2010-ERA CHARLIE BROOKER RPF (DON’T @ ME). SLINGS & ARROWS. TORCHWOOD (DON’T FUCKING @ ME). RAFFLES. Extra special shout-out to whatever the fuck my relationship is with the Supernatural fandom now. okay peace done I’m out

[thiswasinevitableid]

For mermay I would love to see some Danbrey for 24 (lighthouse)!

Here you go! I went with SFW for this one

“You excited honeysuckle?” Her father sets her sleeping bag out on the floor.

“Yes” Dani manges her bravest smile. She’s never slept anywhere but their little house on the cliffs, and the lighthouse, with its echoing stairs and lack of true darkness, is the opposite of that.

“It’ll be fun. Like a camp out. I can even make s��mores over the stove.”

“Okay.” She sets her backpack on the floor, then follows him to the kitchen. At nine, she can already tell when her parents are doing their best, can spot the way her father carries himself when he’s tired but trying not to show it.

He makes them dinner, canned chili with goldfish crackers, and gives her a little tour. When it’s time for bed, he tucks her in, handing her the Totoro plush she sleeps with.

“When is mom coming back?”

Her father sighs, “Two weeks, assuming your grandma gets better at the speed they’re expecting. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll recover even faster than that.”

Dani nods. Her teacher expressed surprise that Dani was staying here and not taking the trip with her mom. The given reason was the gated community didn’t allow children to stay that long. But Dani knows the truth; her grandparents don’t like her dad. And because Dani is the result of her mom loving and staying with her dad, they don’t like her, either.

He kisses her forehead, makes her promise for the bajillionth time that she won’t go in the water, and tells her goodnight.

-----------------------------------------

She’s looking for seashells when it happens. Living by the sea means she knows not to turn her back on it. Too bad the wave hits her from the side, carried up and over the nearby rock and knocking her into the surf. She scrambles up, spluttering, touches her neck, and feels like she’s going to throw up. Her bracelet, the one mom gave her for luck, is gone.

“Oh no, oh no, where are you, oh no”

“Um, are you looking for this?” A girl watches her from the surf, bracelet dangling from her hand.

“Ohmygosh” She snatches the jewelry away, holding it to her chest, “thank you. It’s from my mom and, uh, and I try to be careful but it’s hard sometimes.”

“I get that.” The girl holds up a necklace, “this is from my mom. It’s like one she wears; she says I can have the real one when I’m older. Can I come on the beach?”

Dani nods, then gasps as the girl joins her. She’s seen mermaids in books or that pirate movie her mom watches sometimes. But they’re always grown ups with long hair, pale skin, and green tails. This mermaid is the same age as Dani, her dark skin dotted with freckles and her black held in place with pieces of coral. Her tail is shimmering red and black, the prettiest thing Dani’s ever seen.

“You’re a mermaid.” Dani says, because she can’t think of what else to say.

“Yeah. And you’re a human. Why are you here? It’s usually just that guy.”

“That’s my dad. I’m staying with him.”

“Do you wanna hang out?”

“Yes! Wait, how’s that going to work? I’m not allowed to swim around the lighthouse.”

“I’m allowed to be on the beach, so we’re good.”

“Okay” Dani grins, excited, before her dad’s voice carries down the beach, calling her to come in, “shoot, I have to go.”

“Okay, byyyyyeee!” The mermaid waves as Dani hurries up the sand, and is gone when she turns around for a final look.

------------------------------------------

“Got any tens?”

“Go fish.”

Aubrey draws another card, “I still think it’s weird that you don’t really fish during this game.”

“You’re just grumpy you’re losing.” Dani teases. Aubrey sticks her tongue out. Dani responds in kind.

“When your dad finally lets you swim, we’re gonna play it my way and I’ll kick your tail. Legs?”

“Butt.”

Aubrey snickers, wiggles closer on the warm sand. They’ve found a patch of beach that isn’t immediately visible from land or sea, meaning Aubrey isn’t in danger of being seen and Dani isn’t breaking her promise to her dad to stay out of the water.

“If you come to the beach near my house, I can swim there. But I’m still not allowed to swim alone. I could drown.”

The mermaid purses her lips, “I wouldn’t let you drown.

“I don’t think my mom would believe me if I said I had a mermaid helping me.”

“Man, why can’t humans just have tails? Or, like, fins.”

“I think then we’d just be mermaids. Don’t worry; I’ll get to swim on my own when I’m older and we can play in the water then.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“FINALLY!” Aubrey raises her arms triumphantly as Dani wades into the surf. It took four years and passing a survival swimming course for her parents to be okay with her swimming alone. The smile on Aubrey’s face makes the weeks pretending to swim in a riptide worth it.

“Do you wanna race? Ooh, or I could show you the ray nest, or we could go look for otters-”

“Let’s start with a race. I’ve been waiting years to kick your tail.”

The mermaid’s smile takes on a competitive edge, “last one to that rock is a rotten urchin!”

With that, she splashes Dani with her tail and zooms through the water. Dani dives forward after her, but even with her newfound swimming skills she makes it to the rock a good ten seconds after her friend.

“Best two out of three?” She says the moment she comes up for air.

“You’re on.”

Best two out of three becomes best out of ten, and on number ten Dani plays dirty, throwing her arms around Aubrey’s waist when she manages to catch her. Her friend shrieks with laughter, spinning and chasing Dani towards shore. The human slips and Aubrey tackles her, sand clinging to both of them as they roll onto their sides, cackling into the salt air.

They stay on the sand until it gets dark, counting stars and holding hands until Dani has to go home.

-------------------------------------------------

Dani’s trying not to panic; it’s not the first time Aubrey’s missed meeting her. Sometimes the mermaid gets called away for lessons or has last minute things to take care of, and they haven’t figured out a way to get messages between underwater and above it (they tried a supposedly waterproof cellphone but it only lasted an hour). But it’s been three days without a single sign of her friend.

As she’s contemplating getting the boat her dad uses for fishing on his days off and going further out to look for her, Aubrey surfaces. Even before they reach each other, it’s obvious Aubrey’s been crying.

Dani kneels in the soaked sand, opening her arms, and Aubrey burrows into them, salt water of two kinds dripping onto Dani’s jacket.

“Aubrey?”

Her friend hides her face against her neck, “Mom’s gone. There, there was an accident and she, she didn’t-” it cuts off in a sob.

Dani holds her tighter, strokes her hair, murmurs, “I’m so sorry” as Aubrey shakes in her arms. The wind whips around them, stinging her cheeks, chilling her fingers. She doesn’t care. Aubrey needs her.

---------------------------------------------------------

“Ta-dah!” Aubrey produces a massive clam with a flourish, narrowly avoiding sending water onto the slices of cake Dani smuggled down to the beach.

“Aw, thanks Aubrey, you didn’t have to--holy crap!” She gawps as Aubrey opens the clam, revealing a pearl necklace.

“Like it? It took me, like, a year to get them all. Had to fight a few otters for some of the oysters.”

“Uh-”

“Kidding!” Aubrey flops her head into Dani’s lap, “I’d never bug the otters; Dr. Harris Bonkers would never forgive me for bothering his friends.”

Dani clasps the necklace in place, rests a hand on Aubrey’s tail. She traces figure eights on it, smiling when her friend sighs and nuzzles her stomach.

“You’re the best, Aubrey.”

“Thanks. I, um, I just wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

Her heart turns to an iceberg, “You’re leaving?”

“What? No!” Aubrey sits up, bringing them face to face, “you’re eighteen now. That’s when humans leave home.”

Dani giggles, “Not automatically. I haven’t made up my mind if I want to leave Kepler or not. I might just stay in town; I like it here, and Mama offered me a job manning the community gardens.”

Aubrey’s tail flutters, “Um, I have another point in the stay category.”

“Yeah? Oh” Dani sighs as Aubrey cups her cheek and guides her into a kiss. When Dani deepens it, Aubrey trills, shifting so she’s in Dani’s lap and draping her arms over her shoulders.

“Well?” Aubrey whispers, brushing their noses together.

“Definitely a convincing point, cutie pie.”

Aubrey trills again, knocking her backwards and kissing her senseless in the sand.

-----------------------------------------------

Much of Kepler is surprised when, upon his retirement, the lighthouse keeper announces his daughter will be taking his place. After all, why would a charming young woman want such a job?

The charming young woman isn't particularly interested in their speculation. If she took the job in order to be closer to her wife well, that's her business, now isn't it?

[collabwithmyself]

1-2: Turnabout Transaction (2/2)

Miles hadn't meant to blurt out his trump card. He was stressed and cranky from the trial, and being face to face with the man that had happily ruined the life of a friend of his, had ruined the lives of so many people, had filled him with an indescribable anger that made him shout exactly the wrong thing in an effort to wipe that awful, disgusting smirk off White's face.

Now he was in the detention center on the wrong side of the glass, nursing a black eye that nobody had bothered to treat him for. Maya looked extremely disappointed in him... or at least, it seemed like she did. His glasses had broken upon the impact of White's fist against his face, and their remains had been left behind in the scum's tacky office.

"Do you realize how stupid that was, My?!"

"I'm well aware, I didn't--" Miles paused. "My?"

"Now what are you gonna do? Don't tell me this was your big plan to get me out of jail all along!" Maya thumped one fist against the glass.

"Miss-- Maya, it wasn't my intention to get assaulted or arrested. I certainly do not plan to take this turn of events lying down."

"You better not!" she shouted. She sniffled, and Miles suddenly realized she must be on the verge of tears. "I can't lose you too, okay, you dummy?"

"You... barely even know me..."

"But you stuck it out for me! Sis's killer is still out there, so... so... so you better not give up now, alright?!"

A weak chuckle escaped him. "I wouldn't dream of it."

⁂

But despite his most valiant efforts, everything seemed to be slipping through his fingers like sand. He'd almost had White cornered, could hear the panicked edge in von Karma's voice as she attempted to salvage the situation, but unless he could prove White had been there the day of the crime, it was all for nothing.

He squinted frantically at his notes, at the collection of evidence he had, but nothing was coming into focus. Maya had fallen silent beside him, perhaps sensing the inevitable defeat that was bearing down on him with all the force of a freight train.

"I... I apologize," he whispered to his companion. "It seems I wasn't enough, after all."

"Hey, shut up, Miles," came a voice from beside him that was most certainly not Maya's. He gave a start, then narrowed his eyes at the figure next to him. Taller than him, with arms folded... they had dark hair like Maya, and those robes looked like hers, but this couldn't be Maya. Could it?

"Think, Miles," they urged him, and the sense of deja vu that had been plaguing him since he stepped into court suddenly intensified. "What is it you need?"

His mouth felt dry. For some reason, he didn't feel as though he needed to be concerned about the identity of this stranger. "Pr... Proof White was in Mia's office the day of the murder."

"Alright, what proof is that?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure you've checked everything?"

"I'd very much like to," he snapped, frustration mounting, "but I can't see."

"What?" The figure leaned towards him. "What happened to your eye? What did you do to your glasses, you dingbat?"

"A-Are you going to help me or not?" He bristled at the overly familiar tone they were taking with him.

They sighed and reached over to start rummaging through his papers, bringing up the small sheet with Maya's name on it in blood.

"That doesn't prove he was there," he sighed forlornly.

"Yeah, it does." They turned it over. Miles leaned in, squinting as hard as he could. There was something printed on the other side, but he couldn't make it out.

"...I can't read this."

"Seriously, what happened to your glasses?"

"Just tell me what it says!"

"It's a receipt for that lamp in the office. You know, the one White broke beyond all recognition?"

"Yes, but he claims he saw it when he placed the wiretap a week before the murder."

"Aha. But this receipt is from the day before the murder."

Miles felt the cogs in his head shudder and suddenly start rolling again. He snatched the receipt from his savior's hand, thrusting out his arm frantically.

"HOLD IT!"

Things got messy after that. White tried to squirm his way out of it, and it almost looked like it'd work, but then the person next to him started saying names.

Names he knew.

Names only two other people would know, and one of them was on the witness stand.

Ignoring White's howling and von Karma's choking, he stared, uncomprehending, at the person beside him.

"Mia?"

"What? You--" The figure turned to him, and he distantly registered White sobbing. All of a sudden, the voice seemed so much more familiar. "Miles! Seriously! Where are your glasses?"

"Ah," he mumbled, and his vision darkened around the edges. "I think I'm going to pass out now."

And, presumably, he did.

⁂

When he came to, he almost expected the harsh smell of disinfectant and the steady beep of a heart monitor. Instead, he heard voices he faintly recognized, and registered that he was lying on a very uncomfortable seat.

He groaned and sat up, clutching his head as he attempted to get his bearings. "What..."

"Geez, My, your uncle says you passed right out!" came Maya's voice from somewhere nearby.

"Wh... Ray's...?"

"Don't act so surprised, buddy, I told you I was gonna be there for you today. Your little friend here just beat me to the punch for co-counsel."

"Maya's not even a registered paralegal," Miles managed to say as the world came back into focus - well, as much as it could with his glasses gone.

"Well, yeah, but I couldn't say no to that face." Ray chuckled.

"Did... did we win?"

"Yeah! You're not guilty!" Maya cheered.

"And Mr. White's been arrested," his uncle added, sounding proud. "Good work. Your dad would be impressed."

"I..." It all came back to him in a rush, and he leaned back. "...couldn't have done it without Mia."

Ray made a confused noise, but there was a clapping sound from Maya's general direction. "So it did work!"

"Huh? What worked, kiddo?"

"The channeling! I channeled Sis! I helped!"

"You what," Miles said.

"You know we come from a family of spirit mediums, don't you, My?"

"I... yes, but I didn't actually..."

"You are so dumb."

When he managed to pick his jaw up off the floor from that revelation and get to his feet, Ray pushed two things into his hands. One he recognized as his spare glasses, large and clunky. The other was, upon close examination, a key with a figurine attached to it via a chain.

Miles squinted. "Is... is this the Steel Samurai?"

"Hey!" Maya piped up. "That's my spare key! How come you have it?"

"Good question." He slipped the square frames on, frowning when he realized they were slightly small on him. Still, it was a marked improvement for his vision, and he was able to see his uncle shrug.

"Beats me. The lady told me to give it to you."

"Why would Mia give you my key?" Maya mused.

"Perhaps there's something at her office she wants me to see...?"

⁂

But a trip to the office revealed no new information. It was completely clean, like nothing had happened at all, but Miles still felt a chill when he stepped inside.

Maya knelt by the potted plant in the corner, examining it closely. "At least Charley survived," she sighed wistfully.

"Charley?" Miles repeated, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "You named the plant?"

"Hey, Charley is a valuable member of this office," Maya insisted very seriously. After a moment, though, her face fell. "Although he's not gonna be able to work here anymore with Mia gone, huh."

Miles's heart sank. "She worked so hard to secure this place for herself," he murmured.

"I know. And... and now we gotta clear it out, 'cause there's nobody to run the place." Maya was sniffling again. He hated that the sound was becoming familiar.

He searched desperately for something to say, but could only come up with a subdued apology.

"S'not your fault she's dead," Maya said, shaking her head.

Well, in a rather convoluted way, it sort of was, but he didn't want to get into that. Instead, he looked at the key Mia had chosen to entrust to him. The worn metal glinted at him like an SOS signal, and beside it, the Steel Samurai nestled into his palm as though it belonged there.

Why did Mia want him to have this when it didn't even belong to her?

He looked from his open palm to Maya, knelt by Charley the plant, and for a moment he swore he could see a glowing thread connecting the two. He stiffened and gasped as the answer struck him like lightning.

"Eureka," he blurted, before he could stop himself.

Maya looked at him and started giggling. "What did you just say?"

"Ngh--" Ignoring his rising blush, he cleared his throat. "I... I think Mia wanted me to look after the office. And after you."

He was not expecting a snort from Maya. "Oh, please. If anything, I've gotta look after you! You're a total disaster, My!"

Miles felt himself flush with indignation. "You are seventeen years old!"

"Yeah, but I didn't get punched because I accused somebody of murder with no one else around!"

"Nngh..."

"Face it, My, you need my help!" Maya had her hands on her hips, a confident grin on her face. "If you're gonna earn the money to keep this place, you gotta listen to everything I say!"

"I never agreed to--"

"First order of business is celebrating!" Maya grabbed his free hand, and with surprising strength for someone so small, she began dragging him towards the door. "There's this great burger joint just down the street Sis used to take me to whenever I came down to visit--"

"Wh-What?!" he squawked "Where do you-- does anyone else know you're here?!"

"Quit worrying so much, My, it's all good!"

"Maya!!"

⁂

You failed.

Not only did you fail to win this trial, you failed to keep your composure. Everyone could see you cry. Everyone could see you lose control.

A von Karma does not lose, and a von Karma does not cry.

You are not worthy of the prestige of your family.

It's like you're not a von Karma at all--

No. That's not true. You are Sascha von Karma.

Your name is Sascha von Karma.

A von Karma never accepts failure.

It's his fault. That man.

Miles Edgeworth.

He makes you sick.

He's going to pay.

[tory-ben-hi-shelton]

my favourite quotes from exposure

Multiple sets of handcuffs appeared and were applied. Bailiffs began peeling off the dog-pile like layers of an onion. And there, at the bottom of the scrum, was Kit. He was panting like a marathoner, arms still wrapping the Gamemaster's legs in a death grip. He'd clearly been the first to react.

"Oh, man!" Shelton had both hands on his dome. He seemed winded, despite not having moved during the attack. "Things just got real in here."

"Sorry I froze in there, Tor." Shelton frowned as he shirt wiped his glasses. "Not exactly my 'One Shining Moment', huh?" I waved off his apology. I knew Shelton hated how skittish he could be.

I try to hide the eruptions, but the guys can always tell. They do their best to support me even though it makes them uncomfortable. It's very sweet, but teenage boys make lousy grief counsellors.

The previous semester, Ben had been in half our classes, too, despite being a junior. Obviously, he was no longer around. Sometimes it felt like a limb was missing.

"Jason might be there," Courtney chirped. "He likes you."

"Oh." Not a brilliant response. "Yeah, maybe. I might have a thing, though."

Wonderful. Good job, good effort, Tory.

Behind me, I heard Hi fake coughing to cover his snickers

"I should be a secret agent." Hi blew on his fingernails, then buffed them on his lapel. "Or a magician. Maybe both. Someone write that down."

My hands shot for the Ray-Bans, but Ben caught my fingers mid-flight.

"It's not nice to grab," he said calmly.

"I can't handle all this tension," Shelton moaned. "Too much fighting."

Hi nodded, watching Ben dissapear down a side street. "We need to work on our conflict management. Maybe attend a seminar."

"Make your own?" Hi shifted to look at my face. "Victoria Grace, have you been holding out on me?"

"Tell me everything."

"You're not gonna be happy," Hi warned. "Don't kill the messenger."

"Or his good-looking buddy," Shelton added.

"On Saturday Ben and I drove to John's Islands to see Skyfall."

"You did?" Hi said sharply. "Thanks for the invite, jerks."

Shelton raised his palms. "You were at temple. We're suppose to wait around? Plus, you've seen that movie like five times."

"You still could've asked," Hi grumbled. "I don't—"

"Guys!" I clapped my hands once. "The story, please."

"So many gentleman admirers," Hi mused. "Must be tough, being a heartbreaker."

"Zip it. Unless you wanna see a leg-breaker too."

Ella adopted a mock serious tone. "Will you bodyguards consent?"

I giggled. "If Shelton and Hi are my bodyguards, I don't like my chances. And yes."

"See this?" Ben glanced at the mirror and pointed to his chin. "This is my 'couldn't care less' face."

"Boys?" I stood and faced them. "Something to share?"

"It was a secret." Hi aimed a kick at Shelton, who dodged easily. "Ben made us swear not to tell."

I crossed my arms. Waited.

"Tell Kit we're cutting a music video," Hi suggested as we walked. "Something real gangster, so we need to smash-cut our dance routines. Lay down some visuals. We could offer to let him freestyle rap over the second verse."

"Come on, Sambo!" Hi winked. "Live a little. What are we going to do, rob the place?"

The guard crossed his arms. "Wink at me again, Hiram, and I'll throw you to the wolfpack."

"Did I not mention that?" My brain was truly deep fried. "We went together."

"Oh." Hi and Shelton at once. Ben looked away.

"Hey, wait." I leaned closer to the screen. "You guys wouldn't have wanted to go. I took Ella so I wouldn't be paraded around like Whitney's toy poodle." No one spoke. Nonplussed, I decided to change the subject.

I glowered at Ben from the backseat. I'd given Hi shotgun, having sensed this argument was inevitable. I didn't want to be close. The urge to slap might become overpowering.

"Why don't we use our friendly words?" Hi suggested. "Let's take five, and everyone can say something we like about each other. I'll start. Shelton you're super at—"

"Shut up, Hi!" Ben and I shouted, the first thing we'd agreed upon all morning.

"Must be hell to keep the pH balance correct. I know how it is. I owned a goldfish once."

"Once?" Shelton asked.

"It died. Almost immediately."

"Nice work."

"It's a cultural thing," Hi was saying. "I think you're being insensitive."

Hines snorted. "Do you want me to cuff you?"

"Kinda."

"A minute alone, Tory. I'd like a quick chat."

Ben shot forward. "You can stick chat right up—"

Hi waved at me from across the yard, waiting for his mother to arrive. Apparently he'd body-blocked the first cops to chase me through the house. The police were none too pleased. I owe you one, Hi. You bought me enough time.

Entering the Virals chat room, I found all three boys present.

Uh oh.

They'd met there ahead of time, before alerting me. To discuss me.

I glanced up to see Shelton holding latex gloves. Hi had the ziplocks. Ben handed me a cotton swab and stopper. "Anything else?"

Despite the circumstances, I smiled.

Ruth popped her son on the back of the head. "Mind your manners, Hiram."

"Why does everyone do that?" Hi muttered. "And that was child abuse. In front of the police, I might add."

He looked away. The harbour breeze ruffled his silky black hair. My hand found his, almost by its own volition.

I couldn't be mad at Ben anymore. It was like being mad at my left arm. And right then, I needed my arm back.

A smile quirked on my father's lips. "And you, Mr. Blue? Ready for a good ol'-fashioned backyard barbecue? My daughter will be there."

Ben's uneasy smile was his only response.

Ben reached up from where he was lying with his eyes closed. Smacked Hi's dome.

Hi rubbed his head. "I'm getting pretty tired of that move."

"Then quit being a dope." Ben's lids remained shut.

"Hey, sure. No problem. I just need to—"

Hi lunged for Ben, intending a flying body slam. Ben caught Hi in midair and tossed him downhill in one quick motion. Hi tumbled, rolled, and dropped over the berm of the sand.

"That was dumb." Hi informed the blue sky.

Ben started talking about Wando High. I countered with news of Bolton. Before long, we'd exchanged stories, catching up on the last five months of each other's lives. I hadn't realized how much I missed Ben. How badly I wanted him back at Bolton.

He was right, of course. I was keeping several secrets from Ben. Like how comfortable it felt to be alone with him. How much I'd missed his reassuring presence. His quiet strength.

Ben removed his shoes, plunged both feet into the lapping salt waters Then he leaned back against a post, sighing contently. The little-boy maneuver brought a smile to my face.

"You're staying out here?" Shelton asked. "Alone?"

"No big deal. I don't want Kit to see what I'm up to."

"I don't like it," Ben said. Behind him, Hi looked uneasy.

"No one knows this place exists." I pointed to the other room. "And there's an 85 pound predator in there that loves me. I'll be fine."

...

"Text me when you get home." Ben requested. "Please don't forget."

I hid a smile. "Will do. Bye, guys."

I sat forward at the table. "Okay, so ... like, don't freak out."

That got their attention.

"About?" Ben took the seat across from me, next to Hiram.

"There was an incident last night." Oh so calm. "I'm perfectly okay, but on the way hone someone attacked me on the beach."

"What?!" Three stunned voices.

"That's why you didn't text," Ben muttered.

Ben shook his head in wonderment. "Incredible. It's nice having a genius around."

"It's only genius if it works." But I flushed at the compliment.

I squeezed Ben's shoulder. "Who's the genius now?"

He snorted, looked away.

"You let her go alone?" Ben scolded, slowly working his way down to where Hi was beached. "That defeats the whole purpose!"

"I'm aware of that, Benjamin." Hi tried slinging a leg onto the riverbank, but it flopped back into the rolling current. "But she'd figured out you sent her away from the mine on purpose. You try telling Tory what to do when she's pissed."

"I'll pass."

"How's the leg, detective? Or did my wolfdog bite you in the ass, instead?"

"Hey, at least it's not your birthday. Worst one ever, by the way."

His fist came up. I dapped it with mine.

"For Tory," Shelton said.

"For Tory." All jokes shelved.

Coop was rolling in the leaves, pinning someone beneath his massive bulk.

Ben dove on the tangle with a voice-cracking whoop.

I was no longer alone. The Virals had found me. Ben was beaming, unable to hide his relief. He turned quickly, wiping his glowing eyes. Shelton darted forward and crushed me with a hug. Coop was dancing and bucking, his tail wagging so hard he had trouble keeping balance. My boys. My heroes.

"Do you confronted the twins alone, without waiting for us?" Ben couldn't keep the anger from his voice. "After making us promise not to do anything like that?"

"We can discuss my impulsiveness another time—"

"Oh, we will." Ben assured me.

I ejected the spent clip from the HK45, slammed the new one into place, then worked the slide to chamber a round. Then I held the weapon loosely at my side, barrel pointed toward the ground.

"I'm terrified of you right now," Hi said wide-eyed. "And in love. Take me shooting with your aunt Tempe next time."

"Take the SUV and go. I'll stay with Ella and handle the fallout."

"Out of your mind." Ben said immediately.

"We could drive away without anybody knowing."

"I'm not leaving Tory to face this alone," Ben insisted. "Get serious!"

I spoke softly. "The cops will eat you alive, Benjamin Blue. You have to go."

Ben tensed, ready to argue.

"Detective Hawfield died. This is going to get serious. It's way too much heat for you. Please be sensible."

Ben hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped.

"Maybe you're right." Deep breath. "But you're taking away the other possibility, too."

"I don't understand." I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching vehicle. "What other possibility?"

He smiled wanly. "Ben Blue, The Hero. That kinda would've been nice."

I paused, at a loss for words. My heart broke for him.

"But that's okay." Ben dug keys from his pocket. "After all, we're Virals, not heroes. And that's fine. Plus, I'm not really the hero type."

He turned to leave.

Impulsively, I grabbed Ben's arm. Pulled him close. Smashed my lips against his. The kiss only lasted a second, but also an eternity. Then I stepped back an shoved Ben towards the Explorer.

"Of course you're the type." I was grateful the darkness hid my blushes. "Now go."

Ben stared, stricken, thunderstruck. Hi and Shelton watched, wide-eyed with shock.

"Weirdest birthday ever," Hi whispered.

"Corcoran will survive," Ben commented sourly. "He always does. We crack the case, he gets to be the hero."

My head whipped to Ben. Was that bitterness?

I saw no trace. Ben was smiling, relaxed for the first time in days. Maybe months.

As my father strode away, Shelton and Hi both unleashed dramatic yawns.

"Welp." Hi stretch his arms over his head. "I'd better go check on various things that aren't right here. You coming, Shelton?"

"Oh you know it." Hiding a smile. "Stuff to do. No time to waste."

I descended two steps.

Stopped.

Shot back up.

Wrapped Ben in a bone-crushing hug.

Startled, it took him a moment before he hugged me back.

"He didn't say anything to me," Hi repeated. "And if Shelton were sick, I'd be the first to hear about it. At length."

"So what's the plan?" Ben asked.

"Go inside. Look around. Improvise."

"Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. "Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?"

[advena87]

Kaer Morhen shenanigans (but mostly Lambert’s) part 9

Here is: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 and Daily Lambert

also Keira & Lambert’s love story, Aiden & Lambert’s love story and… this.

This time I will give you tired Papa Vesemir and bring closer the relationship of Berengar and Lambert as the oldest and youngest brother (don't judge me, I love both of these salty&bitter witchers).

this one is dedicated to @queenxxxsupreme

.

Vesemir: I hope you're not doing anything foolish.

Lambert: I hope you're not hoping to hard.

Vesemir: Minus 5 points

Lambert: What?

Vesemir: I began to score your behavior. When you're on 100 points, I'll make you a witcher.

Lambert: Cool, whats my score?

Vesemir: -1298

***

Lambert: Do you think sand is called 'sand' because it's in between the sea and land?

Berengar: Lambert, it's fucking 3 am. Can we please just go to sleep?

*silence*

Lambert: *starts laughing for no reason*

*Geralt and Eskel start laughing*

Berengar: Why are you all like this?

Lambert: Can I ask you a weird question?

Berengar: Oh fuck, here we go again.

Lambert: Don’t you think “DO NOT TOUCH” is one of the scariest things to read in Braille?

Berengar: Okay, what the HELL goes on in your head?

***

Eskel: Who knew getting in trouble would be so hard?

Berengar: I gotta give you credit, Lambert. You make it look easy.

Lambert: Years of practice.

***

Lambert: I saved your life! Twice!

Geralt: Because you put it in danger! Twice!

***

Lambert: Sorry I'm late.

Eskel: What happened?

Lambert: Nothing happened. I just didn't want to come.

***

Berengar: What's this on your search history?

Lambert: Porn?

Berengar: No, no, above that.

Lambert:...

Lambert: Tutorial how to boil water...

Berengar: You fucking moron.

***

Eskel: Has your dream always been raising a new generation of witchers?

Vesemir: It doesn’t really matter now, my dreams were shattered years ago.

Eskel: Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. How many years ago?

Vesemir: How old is Lambert again?

***

Geralt: Lambert, we decided that if Vesemir's ever in a coma, you're the one who has to decide to pull the plug.

Lambert: Pull.

Geralt & Eskel: ...

Berengar: See? I told you he would do his job.

***

Eskel: Do you believe me?

Vesemir: Eskel, you’re the last good person on this planet. I’d believe cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

Geralt: Oh my god, that's enough! Vesemir, why do you always favor Eskel?

Vesemir: I will explain it to you by example. Tell me boys, what do you consider your best quality?

Eskel: I'm a real people person.

Berengar: I don't answer stupid questions.

Lambert: I can speak bullshit.

Geralt: My profile. Oh, and I guess my butt, too.

Vesemir: …

Vesemir, sighing: So next question: where do you see yourself in five years?

Eskel: On the Path

Geralt: Brothel.

Berengar: Dead.

Lambert: Prison.

Vesemir: And you have the audacity to ask me why Eskel is my favorite?

***

Vesemir: Berengar, for the last time, when someone threatens to kill you, the correct response is not, ‘Then do it, pussy.’

Berengar: Old man, with all due respect, I’m gonna completely ignore everything you just said.

***

Eskel: Lambert, are you sure this is safe?

Lambert: I never said that.

Lambert: But, you know what they say - go big or go home.

Eskel: For once, please, I’m begging you, go home.

Lambert: I’m going big.

***

Lambert: Geralt, what's the signal for "Vesemir’s coming?"

Geralt: Uh... Dippity-doo.

Lambert: DIPPITY-DOO!

***

Lambert: So, we go inside, beat the crap out of them and-

Geralt: I don't know, don't you think we should stop using violence as a way to solve our problems?

Lambert: ...

Geralt: ...

*both burst out laughing*

Lambert: Oh my God, Geralt. Don't scare me like that. For a moment I thought you were actually serious.

Geralt: *still laughing* Yeah, sorry.

***

Vesemir, holding up two photos: Here are two pictures. One is your room, the other one is a garbage dump. Can you guess which is which?

Lambert, pointing at one photo: That one's the dump?

Vesemir, slamming photos on table: They're BOTH your room!

***

Berengar: Everyone has a gay ‘cousin’ in family.

Lambert: I don't have a gay cousin.

Berengar: I'm gonna give you a minute to think about that.

Lambert: *gasp* I AM the gay cousin!

Lambert: But wait.

Lambert: I’ve been thinking…

Berengar: That sounds dangerous, but continue.

Lambert: What's your sexuality?

Berengar: Money.

***

Vesemir: So Lambert is gay-

Lambert: Bisexual.

Vesemir: -Eskel likes goats-

Eskel: Succubi.

Vesemir: -and Berengar is dead inside.

Berengar: Well, that’s true, but it's not related to my sexuality, old man.

Vesemir: So Geralt, tell me please, do you have any lady you like?

Geralt: Oh, no, I just like to date around.

Lambert: *coughs* Slut! *coughs*

Berengar: Bless you :>

Lambert: Thanks :>

Vesemir: ...

***

Vesemir: How could you do this?

Lambert: I don't know. It's like bad things always happen to me, like I have bad luck or something.

Vesemi: Lambert, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass!

Berengar: Lambert, you're like an Alzheimer's victim in a whorehouse.

Vesemir: What?

Lambert: Excuse me, what the fuck?

Berengar: You're constantly surprised that you've been screwed and you don't want to pay for it.

Vesemir: It's a vulgar analogy but surprisingly accurate.

***

Eskel: You know, it wouldn't kill you to talk to Vesemir once in a while.

Lambert: We don't know that.

Berengar: Lambert, you can't quit being related to somebody. Believe me, I've tried. But I also wish there were a better way to deal with Vesemir.

Lambert: There is, but we're both too pretty for jail.

***

Vesemir: From now on we have a no-swearing policy in Kaer Morhen. You will have to pay for every swearword.

Lambert: Seriously, Vesemir, what the fuck?

Vesemir: Aaand you have to put a oren in the swear jar. You said "fuck."

Lambert: ...

Lambert: Tell you what... here's twenty. That should cover me until lunch.

Vesemir: Lunch is in half an hour! And you have to follow the rules like everyone else!

Lambert: Berengar, can you get me out of this shit?

Berengar: That depends. Are you willing to live in Zerrikania for a few years?

Lambert: Yeá.

***

Geralt: OK, I don't mind the good-natured brotherly punching, but you didn’t have to twist my nipples.

Lambert: You're lucky I didn't rip them off and feed them to you!

***

Vesemir, about Lambert: Look at him. How is it that he can kill eight people in a minute with four sword blows, but he can't pee without hitting the shower curtain?

Berengar: Fortunately, killing is a job skill and peeing is not.

Lambert, laughing: Dude, I love you!

Vesemir: How did you come to be his authority?

Berengar: I’m depressed, demotivated, bitter pessimist, without hope and prospects, but even I see something good in him. Unlike you. Do the math, old man. We are what you have made us.

Vesemir: Excuse me, I didn't hear any complaints when I was raising you when you’re kid.

Berengar: Really, the teenage drinking and constant running away wasn't a slight tipoff?

Vesemir: Oh, you were just a little drama queen, Berengar. And let's not forget, you always came back.

Berengar: Kinda hard to get steady work when you're nine.

Lambert, sobbing:  Dude, I love you!

***

Sometimes it stops being funny. It's not like I think Vesemir was a bad father to them deliberately, but if we think about what homes these kids came from, that they were forced to become witchers, that they were mainly brutally trained and subjected to Trials (which were extremely difficult and painful. It’s pure trauma), it's hard to talk about happy childhood. I'm afraid there was pathology in Kaer Morhen. These children were raised by witchers who focused only on making killing machines from them. Looking at Berengar and Lambert, we can see what wounds he left on them. Geralt is also hard to call a ray of sunshine. I believe Vesemir loved these boys, looked after them as much as he could, but I can't believe he was a good father. How was he supposed to be, how could he know, since he was shaped in the same way. I think we can use the term Adult Children of Witchers here.

.

[dindjarindiaries]

Thunder - Chapter 8: Hail

summary: Time winds down until Frankie has to leave Luciana, and suspicions start to grow as to what’s going on between them.

warnings: anxiety attack, angst, fluff, mentions of death, references to sex

rating: R

word count: 4.82k

masterlist

chapter 8: hail

Waking up the next morning, Frankie’s almost certain he’s ascended to heaven. The warm glow of sunlight’s peeking in through the window of the guesthouse bedroom, bathing the woman who lays asleep on his chest in an angelic light. Frankie feels more at peace than he has in a long time, even with the prospect of what’s to come nagging at the back of his mind. He knows he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than where he is in this very moment—even in the air.

But then, it all sinks in: he’s still here, with Luciana, in the guesthouse, in the morning—and not with everyone else.

Frankie curses under his breath and gently starts to sit up, stirring Luciana from her sleep. She looks up at him through her lashes, eyes half-lidded in a way that Frankie thinks is adorable but can’t dwell on right now. “It’s the morning, Luce,” Frankie informs her, his voice soft yet panicked. “The guys could be up, and they might be looking for—.”

He’s cut off by Luciana leaning in swiftly to kiss him, her hand brushing over his cheek in a way that makes him forget everything else he’d been worrying about. When she pulls away, she stays close, her nose brushing against Frankie’s as she looks him deep in his eyes. “Relájate.” Luciana adds a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’ll be fine. We’ll just say we woke up early and decided to go for a walk—and we brought the umbrella in case it rained again.”

Frankie takes a deep breath and nods to agree, earning a smile from Luciana in praise as she kisses him one more time. “You always think on your feet,” he tells her, earning a soft chuckle as she moves off of him. She frees herself from the sheets and stands, and Frankie can’t help the way his gaze admires her body once again. In this light, where it’s brighter and even more angelic, he can see more of the outline he’d tried to burn into memory last night, and he can’t help his heart from beating faster at her sheer beauty.

“Now, don’t relax too much, Morales,” Luciana warns Frankie, pulling him from his trance. “I don’t think we have time for another round before things start to look more… suspicious.”

Frankie ignores the blush on his cheeks as he shrugs, starting to untangle himself from the sheets. “Are you sure ‘bout that?”

Luciana raises an eyebrow at him as she starts getting her clothes from the night before back on. “Don’t insult yourself like that, babe. I’m sure you could last much longer than what we’re being given.”

Frankie scoffs and shakes his head, trying to hide his smile of amusement as he also dresses himself back up. Once they make the room neat to the way it’d been before—including new sheets as provided in the closet of the room—they walk out hand-in-hand to the main part of the guesthouse. Frankie reaches for the umbrella and, before he can reach for the door, Luciana pulls him into another kiss. It’s deep and full of the desperation of not knowing when they can share another, lips parted and tongues dancing like their bodies had during the later hours of the night. Frankie’s hand cups her cheek as they pull away, a thumb brushing over the skin there as he watches the light dance in her brown eyes. “I love you,” Franke confesses in a voice that’s hushed yet honest, “and one day, the whole world will know it.”

“All in time,” Luciana assures him, a phrase that he knows he needs to hear because the guilt of not being more public with their relationship has started to eat away at him. She gives his hand a squeeze and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I love you, too.”

They share a gaze for a few lingering moments and then they open the door of the guesthouse, making sure none of the guys are around before they pretend to return from a morning spent walking through the trails of the surrounding wood. Thanks to their chemistry not only as lovers but also as friends, it’s easy for them to begin making light and casual conversation, making things look natural as they walk back up to the main house. Once they walk inside, they’re met with surprised exclamations from the guys who sit around the kitchen table, except for Santiago who works some eggs in a pan on the stove.

“We all thought you were both asleep, gonna be honest,” Benny admits, drawing a sip from his water with a raised brow.

“Us? Up later than you?” Luciana lets out a playful scoff as she teases him. “You should’ve known better. We were up early and decided to go for a walk. It’s beautiful around here.”

It’s true, Frankie thinks to himself, wishing he could say it to Luciana. My view this morning was really beautiful.

“I’d say that surprises me, but it doesn’t,” Tom mumbles, a small smile growing on his lips as he looks between the two of them. “One day, we’ll switch it up on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Luciana demurs with a chuckle. “Maybe after you’re done with bootcamp.”

And, as much as that’s meant to be a joke, those are the words that make Luciana’s mind take a darker route the rest of the day.

It continues just like the day before, the majority of it spent down at the dock—swimming, boating, kayaking, whatever else to have fun and cool off in the midst of the summer heat. She’s allowed herself a few extra drinks, which she realizes now likely wasn’t the best choice. Luciana sits here in one of the Adirondack chairs, taking a moment to bathe in the sun as she watches the boys toss a football around in the shallower part of the lake, and lets herself think too much.

She’s the only one being left behind. Luciana will have to stay here while her brothers—including one by blood—go off to serve, losing any kind of the contact she’s had with them ever since they all met and gelled together. This includes the love of her life, a man she’s known for longer than the rest aside from Santiago, someone she’s not sure how to live without anymore. Even before the love bloomed, he was the crutch she didn’t realize she was leaning on, the other half that kept her in check and balanced and excited to grow in life. Luciana knows she’s been the same thing for him. She doesn’t often think about what could happen to him while she’s away—not just in the line of duty, but in his mind and his heart. She knows there’s darkness there that even she hasn’t gotten to fully explore, hurt from the things that’s happened to him that he shouldn’t have to deal with on his own. Now, he has to be alone.

Her gaze jumps from person-to-person as they jump and move around in the water—from “grumpy” ol’ Tom, to young, wild, and free Benny, to less-wild-but-still-kinda-crazy Will, to her dearest and fiercely protective Santi, and finally to her entire heart, the caring and kind Frankie—and she can’t help picturing what would happen if this was the last time they were all together. If something happened and she lost one of them, or even all of them. If this little family of theirs that’s dysfunctional yet beautiful in its own unique way was harmed in any way, shape, or form. Luciana’s not sure how she’d be able to carry on. Picturing a life without them, one without Tom or Benny or Will or Santi or Frankie, is enough to knock the breath right from her lungs.

And that’s exactly what it does. Suddenly, Luciana—the one who’s been revered as never being afraid of anything—feels more fear than she’s ever experienced before in her life, and now she can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

Luciana tries to take a deep breath but it stalls. The place where she’s supposed to feel the soft rise and fall of her chest is instead engulfed in burning flames, feeling as if they’re full of sand as she tries to get the air in. A cold sweat breaks out on her forehead as she blinks a few times, trying to compose herself because she doesn’t want to break down like this, to show that she’s weaker than everyone thinks she is. But then she tries to breathe again and she still can’t.

She moves to sit on the very edge of her seat, hoping that’ll help somehow as she tries to expand her lungs. It does nothing. Instead, the heaving of her chest becomes more obvious, the cold sweat providing a glare of the sun’s rays, and she realizes she’s drawing attention.

“Luci?” her brother’s voice calls to her, but it feels far away, much further than the few feet he stands in the lake away from her. “You okay?” Santiago comes closer, stepping out of the water as his brow furrows in concern. Luciana looks at him and sees his eyes widen upon viewing the horror in her eyes and the evidence of struggles that go deeper than he was anticipating.

She shakes her head.

Santiago runs over, now, kneeling in front of Luciana and taking one of her hands in his. “What is it, hermanita?” he panics, his free hand touching her cheek and grimacing at how flushed it is. “How can I help?”

“I can’t breathe,” Luciana manages, the image of her brother blurring before her thanks to the tears of fear, shame, and stress that cloud her eyes, now. “I—Santi, I can’t breathe.”

Luciana sees Santiago bristle with more panic as he turns and addresses something to the boys that Luciana can’t take the time to listen to now, fully capturing their attention.

And when Frankie sees what’s happening, he just about feels his heart drop out into the water. It takes everything in him not to sprint over full-speed and take Luciana in his arms right then and there, instead rushing out of the water with the guys to better see what’s going on. Frankie instantly recognizes the behavior because it’s something he’s not unfamiliar with: an anxiety attack.

“Don’t crowd,” Frankie instructs the guys, shooing them to somewhere further off on the dock. He kneels beside Santiago in front of Luciana, placing a hand on her knee as he looks up at her calmly. “You’re having an anxiety attack, Luce. You just need to breathe in time with me, okay?” He earns a struggled nod at that, and he gives her a smile of praise. Santiago looks nervously between his brother and sister. “Breathe in real deep with me, like this.” Frankie takes a deep breath in, and he watches as Luciana shakily does the same. He holds it for a few seconds before going on. “And now let it out.” He exhales as Luciana repeats his motion. He smiles again. “Good. Keep it up.”

Frankie breathes with Luciana until her heaving diminishes and she’s able to get the air in on her own. A few beads of cold sweat still cascade down her head, though Frankie can only see her gaze looking into his—one that’s full of horror and longing, a longing to be comforted by him. But he can’t.

“You’re alright, hermanita,” Santiago assures his sister, hands reaching for the sides of her face as he brushes his thumbs over them. “Feel a little better?” Luciana just nods at him, eyes flickering between her brother and her lover. Frankie tries to ignore the heavy ache in his chest. “I’ll take you to the house and we’ll get you some peace and quiet.”

Luciana nods again to agree, letting Santiago help her to stand up as they start to walk up to the house. Her gaze lingers for just another moment on Frankie when Santiago stops to place a grateful hand on Frankie’s shoulder, and he feels helpless as he begins to stand up slowly from where he’d been kneeling, wishing more than anything that he could be the one going with her—and needing to know what was going through her mind and heart in this moment. Though, he’s pretty sure it has to do with the words she’d cried to him last night, and that thought alone breaks him into pieces.

Once Santiago and Luciana are further out of sight, Frankie walks himself to the edge of the dock, sitting with his legs in the water as he rips his hat from his head. He kneads the material in his hands, his gaze looking endlessly into the rippling water ahead of him. It’s at times like these when he thinks that she’s worth the sacrifice of losing flying. That maybe he can find another skill, another passion, so that she doesn’t have to be alone here and suffer like this. He’d be more than willing to try for her. But she’d never let him.

This is just the first time of many where Luciana will have to suffer without him—and Frankie knows he has to get used to this feeling of pain.

Frankie’s slightly startled when the dock rocks next to him, his gaze looking up to its source as he watches Will sit gingerly beside him. He lets out a heavy breath before he meets Frankie’s gaze, his brow lifting. “You okay, Fish?” Will asks, his voice full of genuine concern as he folds his hands in his lap.

Frankie offers a nod. “Yeah,” he tries his best to assure him, smoothing a hand over his hair before placing his hat back on his head. “I’m just glad that she’s alright. Anxiety attacks are terrifying.”

“Yeah, me too,” Will agrees, his gaze shifting out to the water. “It was scary for me to see her like that. I can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you.”

Frankie furrows his brow, his heart starting to beat a bit faster as he looks over at his brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Will looks back at Frankie, his expression of nonchalance never changing. “Well, you’re both really close, wouldn’t you say?”

Frankie looks between the water and Will’s gaze. “Uh—yeah, we are, I guess.”

Will remains stoic for one moment but crashes into soft laughter in the next one. He shoulders Frankie in a playful manner. “Fish, you’re a fuckin’ terrible liar.” Frankie can feel his eyes widening as Will raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re in love.”

Frankie’s mouth goes dry as he seeks some kind of response but can’t find one just yet. When he does, it’s incoherent. “I’m, I-I’m in—what?”

Will laughs again. “Don’t worry. She loves you, too. And that’s why you’re together. As you should be.” Will then offers a smile, one that isn’t cynical or threatening. It’s genuinely friendly and warm, as if Will’s been waiting for this to happen as long as Frankie has. Thinking about it, he probably has.

Frankie’s in such shock that he truly can’t speak, now. His lips are parted, but he can’t even begin to think of what he can say. He thought he and Luciana had been doing a good job at keeping things under wraps, but they must’ve slipped somehow. He guesses it was this morning. He wonders if Will’s the only one who knows.

But, just as any good brother would, Will practically reads Frankie’s mind as he continues on. “We all know—everyone except Pope, and I’m pretty sure that’s only ‘cause he’s in such denial of it happening that he refuses to see it.” When Frankie’s eyes only widen more, Will chuckles again. “It’s alright, Frankie. We saw this coming for years. It’s about damn time.”

Frankie finally thinks of something to say, swallowing hard as he tips his hat on his head. “How did you find out?”

Will looks out at the water, pretending to ponder greatly for an answer. “Let’s see.” He hums, and Frankie can tell it’s all an act as he chuckles under his breath. “Leaving all the parties together? Well, that’s just how you two are. No, it was probably when I saw you two dancing at the bar.”

Frankie nearly chokes on air and he feels his cheeks and neck burn red as he runs a hand over the skin there. “You, uh… you saw that?”

Will looks back over at Frankie. “Don’t worry, Frankie, I didn’t stop and stare. And I was mostly drunk. But how could I forget it? My long-time dream couple finally taking their first step together?”

Frankie shakes his head slightly, trying to hold back a smile that’s growing on his lips. “And you didn’t say anything?”

Will shrugs. “I thought you two would be all lovey-dovey after that, but you seemed… normal. So, yeah, I didn’t.”

Now, Frankie’s too curious for his own good. He furrows his brow as he faces his brother. “What else did you see?”

Will’s gaze drifts up to the sky as he thinks again. “I saw your looks at each other on the semi-formal night. I saw you dancing together there. I think that’s when I really, really knew.”

“And the guys did, too?”

“Oh, yeah. We all talked about it when you and Santi and Luci weren’t around. We wanted to help make it happen.”

Frankie feels a realization hit him as he sits up taller towards his friend. “You purposely made sure Luci was left alone in the house the day of my mom’s anniversary, and threw the party the night before graduation at Benny’s frat house so we could be alone, and covered our asses for Pope whenever we snuck away after that.”

Will nods once to agree. “Yep.” He pops the “p.” “And don’t forget the guesthouse.” He gestures towards the path in the woods with his finger, and Frankie can already feel his face turning more red than the color of Will’s swim shorts. “Going for a walk so early in the morning, huh? On the same trail as the guesthouse? What a coincidence.”

Frankie laughs a bit and sighs in defeat, nodding as he looks at Will seriously. “Yeah. We’re together.”

Will slaps a hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “It’s been a long time comin’, brother.” He then wrinkles his brow in concern. “But why’re you trying to be so secretive about it?”

Frankie lowers his voice, gaze falling to his hands as they play with the hem of his t-shirt. “Pope.”

“I figured. But… why?”

Frankie takes a deep breath, looking back up to meet Will’s gaze. “A little while before that night at the bar, Santi, he uh, talked to us. Luci and I. Separately, of course. But he told us that he doesn’t think we should be together because it’s too risky for the dynamic—you know, our family thing we got going on. He’s afraid that if something goes bad between Luci and I, it’ll tear us apart from him. So he made us promise not to get together.”

“And now, you’re together.” Will finishes the idea for Frankie and he nods. Will curses under his breath. “Shit. That’s a dick move on Santiago’s part.”

Frankie shrugs. “He’s just protective of his loved ones.”

“But that doesn’t mean you should have to hide your relationship in the fuckin’ shadows, Frankie. You two are made for each other. We’ve all known it since day fuckin’ one.”

“Then why do you think he made us promise that?”

Will shakes his head, looking at the lake. “Like you said. He’s probably afraid that the closer you two become to each other, the more you’ll drift away from him.” He looks back to Frankie. “He’s afraid of being alone, Frankie.”

Frankie understands that fear. He’s lived that life, experienced that feeling of being so utterly alone and abandoned in this world by everyone he’s loved. That’s why he can’t bring himself to be mad at Santiago, and that’s why he keeps bending to his will and keeping his love hidden.

“You gotta tell him eventually, Fish. He deserves to know. She’s his twin sister for God’s sake, and you’re the closest brother he has out of all of us.”

“I know.” Frankie feels the guilt from earlier resting heavily on his shoulders, now, a hand wiping down his face as he watches his feet kick in the semi-clear lakewater. “I just… now isn’t the time. We’re about to go to basic training and he doesn’t need this shit in his head while we’re doing all that.”

Will nods understandingly. “I get it, Frankie, I really do. But the longer you wait, the worse his reaction will be—especially when it comes to the guesthouse.”

Frankie’s eyes double in size. “He will not be told about the guesthouse.”

Will laughs at Frankie’s panic. “An unnecessary detail. Your secret’s safe with us.” Will places his hand on Frankie’s shoulder yet again, giving his brother another warm smile. “I’m real happy for you both, Frankie.” Frankie returns his brother’s smile. “Just make sure we’re in the wedding. Alright?”

Frankie burns red yet laughs, standing up along with Will as they walk back towards where Benny and Tom are seated in two of the Adirondack chairs. Benny tilts his sunglasses down his nose upon their arrival. “What were you two ladies gossiping about?” Benny jokes, causing Will to snort. “The fact that we know this man’s fuckin’?” He gestures to Frankie who just about adapts red as the permanent color of his face at this point.

“Now Benny, what did I tell you about reducing the state of their relationship to sexual intimacy?” Will retorts, raising his brow at his brother.

Benny blinks a few times at his brother. “Was that English?” he finally asks.

The guys laugh, and Will nudges Frankie’s shoulder again. He points up to the house. “You should go check up on her,” he says lowly. Frankie nods to agree, the ache for his lover still prominent in his chest as he starts off towards the pathway that leads to the house. “Tell Pope we’re ready for another round of tossin’ if he’s up to it.”

Frankie holds up a thumb in acknowledgement, refusing to do anything to slow his movements towards Luciana as he heads up to the house. Once he’s made his way inside through the sliding glass door, he sees Santiago standing by the fridge in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water that’s no doubt for Luciana. He doesn’t see her around, though, and he wonders where she’s gone.

“Hey,” Frankie greets gently, not wanting to startle his brother. Santiago looks at Frankie with eyes still panicked for his sister, but they relax a bit upon seeing Frankie. “How’s she doing? How’re you doing?”

Santiago shrugs as he closes the fridge door, resting the glass of water on the counter as he crosses his arms over his chest. “She’s alright, I think,” Santiago informs him. “Good enough to not want her twin brother fussing over her anymore.” Frankie chuckles softly at that, as does Santiago. He then grimaces, though, a sigh falling from his lips. “But she said it was because she’s worried for us, Frankie—all of us. That makes me feel like shit. I don’t want to have to leave her behind.”

Frankie’s own heart breaks apart at his words. “Me neither, Santi. None of us do. But she’s strong, and a moment like this doesn’t change that. I’m sure that once everything falls into place, we’ll all be a little more at ease.”

Santiago nods to agree. Frankie hates the way his brother seems so down and guilty still, so he walks towards him and holds out his arms, accepting him in a tight hug as he pats his back a few times for reassurance. No words are spoken as the two brothers share a moment of strength, trying to comfort each other over the same woman—to one a dear sister, and to the other a passionate lover. Frankie has a feeling everything will be okay even as he pulls away from the embrace, smiling at Santiago.

“Will said they’re ready for another round if you are,” Frankie informs him. “I can keep an eye on her if you want me to.”

Santiago returns his smile. “That’d be great, Frankie. She’s sick enough of me already.”

Frankie chuckles again, shaking his head as he takes the glass of water off the counter. Santiago steps outside and heads back down to the dock, and Frankie tries to compose himself for what’s to come as he looks around for Luciana. He assumes she’s upstairs, now, and so he heads in that direction with the water in hand. When he comes around the corner of her room, he gently raps his knuckles against the doorframe.

“Santi, for fuck’s sake, I already told you that I’m fin—.” Luciana cuts herself off when she sees Frankie’s image appear in her doorway. She’s since slid on a sweatshirt following the incident, her arms hugging over her stomach as she sits with her legs criss-crossed on the bed. Her brown eyes twinkle at his presence. “Frankie?”

He doesn’t speak just yet as he walks closer to her, setting the glass on the bedside table as he seats himself on the edge of her bed. He reaches a delicate hand to brush away a loose piece of hair from her face, and she leans into his touch without ever breaking his gaze. Frankie can feel his eyes softening at her. “You alright, baby girl?” he finally says, his voice so soft that he wonders if she’s even heard it.

But she must, since she offers a light smile in return. “I’m fine,” Luciana assures him, one of her hands covering the one he still has on her cheek. “I just… got a little too lost in my thoughts.”

Frankie shakes his head at her. “You don’t have to keep it all in here, Luce.” He takes his free hand to gently tap his finger against her temple, earning a larger smile from her. “You have me, too. And Santi. And your other brothers.”

Luciana sighs. “I know. I just don’t want to look…”

“… weak to them?” Luciana nods, and Frankie shakes his head again as he holds her face between his hands. “Luci, having anxiety like that and thoughts like those doesn’t make you ‘weak.’ It just proves how caring and protective you are over all of us. We’re all feeling the same things you are even if we’re not vocalizing them. You being able to say them aloud would prove that you’re actually much stronger than all of us.”

Luciana grabs one of Frankie’s hands to press a kiss to his palm upon hearing that. “Thank you.” Her voice is quiet but never falters, her mesmerizing gaze settling in Frankie’s as she continues smiling at him. “I love you, baby.”

Frankie beams and his heart warms at her endearment. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss against her lips, one so soft that it can barely be felt. He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers. “I love you way more.”

With those words, he wraps his arms around her and shifts his position on the bed, encouraging her to lean into him as he strokes her hair softly. Frankie hopes it can bring her even more peace that she so desperately needs right now—as does he. Yet, he also knows he needs to get his recent conversation off his chest and inform Luciana of what’s been said.

“By the way, Luce… the guys know.”

Luciana lifts her head momentarily from Frankie’s chest, her brow furrowed. “About what?”

Frankie’s eyebrow lifts. “Us.”

Luciana doesn’t even look surprised as she lets her head rest against his chest again. “Oh. Yeah, I figured.”

“You did?”

“We’re not very good at being secretive, Francisco.”

Frankie chuckles at that. “I guess you’re right, Luciana.” Luciana wrinkles her nose upon hearing her full name. “But… your brother deserves to know. Soon.”

“Like I said this morning, babe… all in time.”

Frankie nods to agree with that, planting a kiss in her hair before resting his chin against her head. He continues to stroke her hair as he closes his eyes, absorbing the touch and close intimacy while he still can. The future’s unclear as of now, between his flying and her working and whatever the hell Santiago’s gonna do when he finds out about this, but he knows one thing for certain: Luciana will always be there. “All in time.”

thunder tag list: @youhavereachedtheendofpie @charmantbarnes @theindiealto @fangirl-and-stuff @phoenixhalliwell @maybege @housekenobi @seawhisperer @mrsparknuts @saltywintersoldat @softpedropascal @i-hide-inside-my-head @sunshinepascal @domino-oh-damn @thirsty-flygirl

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @javier-djarin​ @mistermiraclee​

[tonystarktogo]

(this could’ve been) a villain’s origin story 

part IV

For @shitistanstank who wanted to see Bucky’s reaction and @everything-is-applepie who asked for more [Warning: Bucky is an unrepenant killer and his mindset is dark(er) than Tony’s parts were]:

James hates mentals. Doesn’t matter if they can read your thoughts, break out illusions that have you question everything you believe, make you forget everything you are, everything you used to be or if their powers are even more insidious -- every single one of them is a manipulative fucker with a god-complex. 

Usually, James doesn’t generalise like that -- it leads to assumptions and assumptions lead to stupid mistakes that get you dead -- but in this case he’ll make an exception. It’s widely known that, as fussy as the Winter Soldier can be about his jobs, he always takes contracts involving mentals. Doesn’t matter how old they are, what gender, how powerful, what specific abilities.

Mentals are weapons in a way that physicals aren’t, can’t ever hope to be -- and it doesn’t matter what their intentions are, what fucking alignment they hold -- like alignment isn’t just a skewed personality test gone wrong -- or what laws they follow.

[Every supe uses their power. You can’t not. You can’t be less than you are, even if some like to pretend otherwise. Like to play at being human, idealising what they’ve lost and will never achieve again.

Even when you don’t want to, even when you train yourself mercilessly, grit your teeth against it-- a supe’s first instinct is to use their abilities to the fullest. To survive. To live. To make life more comfortable.

There’s better men than James out there who like to offer long lists of requirements, of all the people they refuse to kill. As though not killing children, women, supes, humans, whatever the fuck their line in the sand is, somehow absolves them from the fact that they kill others for money, power or pride. As though having rules -- morals, as they like to sneer pretentiously -- makes them better, when all they do is choose and find one life more worthy than another.

James doesn’t have a list. He takes a contract or he doesn’t, depending on whether he trusts the contractor to pay up and not stab him in the back while he’s at it.

Have you ever seen a five-year old in a temper-tantrum that can bend the minds of those around them to their will? Have you ever considered what a toddler with the ability to erase memories is, what they become? Do you really think it was morals that kept anyone under fourteen from being chosen?

Rules, after all, are rarely implemented before they’ve proven to be necessary.]

The problem with having a reputation for killing mentals is that mentals don’t take kindly to being killed. And it’s hard to be prepared for a threat you don’t know exists until it reveals itself and tries to twist your mind into hushquietobeybenothing.

Granted, that doesn’t stop most of the stupid ones who track him down from monologuing about their righteous revenge before they get on with it. So convinced that just because James didn’t see them coming means he won’t kill them anyway.

Arrogant fuckers, all of them.

He’ll make them regret that before he’s done.

At least the last set of attackers wasn’t stupid. Makes it more of a pain, but ultimately a more satisfying fight. And fuck, if he hadn’t been blind-sided by the witch, James would’ve gotten away clean. But Scarlet Witch [And what kind of bullshit name is that when everyone knows her powers are anything but magical?] has been a persistent pain in his ass for a while now.

She’s smart and powerful and embodies everything James despises in a mental. The only reason they haven’t gone to war so far is because Scarlet Witch couldn’t care less about mentals as a whole. The only thing she values is her brother -- and the guy is a physical. A physical James wouldn’t try to land a hit on unless he was 100 percent sure he could take out the witch as well.

And Quicksilvers is a hard man to hit.

They don’t have an understanding of any sort because James doesn’t do understandings with mentals. But The Captain does, which puts Scarlet Witch and James into an awkward position as far as battles go. That’s the only reason James assumes their last showdown was an accident -- and, also, presumably the only reason he wakes up at all.

James doesn’t wake up slowly. Hasn’t since they shoved the pills down his throat for the first time, back before they realized that injections were that much more effective.

[The doctors never did figure out why James activated at all from such a low dosis, why he survived at all when the pills turned out to be useless with the sole exception of him. Granted, James killed them roughly forty hours after the first test, which might have played a hand in that.]

He comes to from one moment to the next -- finally, finally free of the black nothingness the witch trapped him in [nothing like what she can do, or so the rumors go, but that doesn’t make him itch to see her brain splattered over a sidewalk any less] -- and is immediately aware of his body, his surroundings, himself.

He’s in an unfamiliar place. He’s half-naked. He’s in a negligible amount of pain. He’s unrestrained. He’s not alone.

James is up and moving before the observation fully sinks in. It doesn’t have to. He already has all the data. [Has pinpointed the steady breathing and puttering motions of one person, placed him to his left, four steps, notices his odd surroundings even as he moves. There’s a wrench in easy reach that James aimes before he even sees the person -- man, young, brown hair, a head smaller than him -- and throws before he’s finished taking stock of his surroundings.

It’s more reflex than cold-blooded murder, really, not there’s much of a difference between the two where it concerns James.

The man ducks, proving that he’s not quite as idiotic as James initially assumed for keeping him unrestrained in his direct vicinity. That or he has good instincts.

He’s not a mental though, James can tell. He can always tell. His killing intent goes down a solid 60 percent with that realisation, though that still leaves him with plenty to work with should his potential client [James has lived through weirder recruitment strategies, though not all those potential bosses have] and potential victim prove troublesome.

It’s not that James wants to kill every human he meets. It’s just that he prefers to plan for the eventuality of needing to kill them and how to accomplish it efficiently, rather than be caught off-guard when the inevitable happens.

[There’s something that never made it into any of the papers and articles about supes and it’s this: A supe’s life is insane. There’s no logic, no rationality, no clear reason why you can’t go to a public swimming pool without accidentally ending up in a lagoon filled with starving piranhas. The Captain once theorized that supes offend the natural order or balance and this is nature’s way of striking back, of wiping them out. That or their unnaturalness attracts similar insanity.

James thinks that’s bullshit, not that it matters. He still has to live with the painfully ridiculous situations he tends to get himself into, after all.]

As such it really is nothing personal that as soon as James finally gets a clear view on the man -- kid, really, can’t be a day over twenty -- who’s found him, he immediately plans the guy’s death. It’s not like he acts on it right then, James isn’t a total barbarian.

He even gives the kid time to regain his footing and stare at him in shocked surprise, mouth half-way open and holding a bag of marshmallows as though those will somehow soften the next blow.

James is not gonna lie, he totally expects the boy to pull a sonar death ray, explosives or something similar out of some hidden stash and start some tirade about James having killed his parents and how he’s been planning this moment for a long time, or something along those lines.

Not to offer him marshmallows.

James gives the innocuous bag the deeply suspicious look that offer deserves. 

[On an unrelated note, his respect for the boy rises a smidge. James doesn’t know many people with the foresight to keep something ans inconspicious as poisonous marshmallows within easy reach.]

“No.”

“Oh.” The boy looks disappointed.

A scientist eager to see his newest creation in action? James doesn’t frown, but it’s a near thing. He’s not fond of scientists. [They tend to end up dead in his vicinity, but most people do.]

“Can I offer you something to drink?”

James raises his eyebrows, but fairly obvious attempt to drug and or kill him aside, he’s never before wasted a chance to be a little shit and he’s not planning on starting to now. 

“You can.”

The kid blinks. Snorts. “Oh, I like you.”

James smirks. He can’t recall the last time anyone told him they felt that way, but he doesn’t recall very many things beyond how to hunt and make them bleed.

“You’re the exception of the rule then.”

The boy laughs and if James wasn’t what he was, he wouldn’t have heard the bitterness echoing it. If James looks closely, he can even see the fractures in that pretty, wide smile.

“Believe me, Goggle Eye, I’m the exception of every rule.”

[It’s a good hour later, after the kid -- call me Tony -- has recounted where he found James and needled him endlessly -- “Come on, there’s got to be something you need! If not food or clothes, what about information? The adresses of your attackers? Schemantics of the newest SI rifle? Clean papers? Give me something!” -- that it occurs to James. A stray thought that nonetheless leaves an impression: It’s a good thing he’s human.

Because there’s something broken underneath Tony’s easy words and open gestures, something sharp and jagged -- still bleeding -- that was crushed and never healed quite right. Because when it comes down to it, you can forget the pills and the injections and the endless treatments and experiments designed to push for moremoremore. Because all the miracles of modern technology can’t build a monster out of spite and thin air. The drugs only reveal the potential that’s always been there.

And there’s no doubt what Tony would have been, should he have found himself among the test subjects.

His mind is a weapon worth killing for already.]

James leaves Tony’s lair two hours later, armed Quicksilver’s current adress -- one can never have enough leverage --, detailed information on four potential targets and the knowledge that Tony is the kind of competent that is as useful as it is dangerous and has an agenda James doesn’t yet understand. 

He’s not yet sure what to do about the latter.

[wolfcha1k]

As soon as I started practicing kisses I suddenly can't help adding them now lmao something fluffy and firey for you heathens. Still sfw content tho ofc. Based on the new fanart I did recently so some of it doesn't match the art in hindsight :"D I think now its just gonna be a new tradition to write something to go along with my pieces.

They were taking one of their occasional adventures away from the Betterman Farm, where they would hunker down in the wilderness for several days at a time. For a while, Guy and Eep would forget there was an entire world that they shared with other people; their family. It was just the two of them, hunting and foraging and seeing the beauty the land itself provided.

She knew her home was the Farm now but her heart would never deny she was always meant for the untamed wild where the sun stretched on forever. She wasn't sure why Guy had lead her towards the desert as an area for camp, it was hot and unspeakably dry during the day, sweltering even. Her entire life had been the dusty desert and the canyon with that awful cave as the only escape from the heat.

As dusk fell, Guy had only grinned at her. They'd set up camp not long after the daytime sun joined the many nighttime suns in the sky. The sight of how many slept above her still was awe striking. Guy skinned a boar they'd hunted together, something Eep wanted to teach Dawn about someday. She knew as much as Guy enjoyed his safer, more pampered life with the Bettermans, he was still that adventurous nomad born and raised. He lived for the thrill his skills provided him and how all his ideas saved him from many obstacles.

Eep watched the fire flicker and sway, it was still surprising how alive looked. She leaned her hands out to toast her palms, the desert chilled now the sun set. She didn’t understand that either, how such a mercilessly hot place can become so cold.

The embers glowed in her green eyes when she felt Guy touch her wrist. Eep turned to him, seeing the fire reflecting in his dark gaze. He was beautiful, one of the most wonderful things she ever saw even after everything he'd shown her.

"I got the boar skinned, just need help putting a skewer through it," Guy said, gesturing towards the beast. They had parked themselves by an oasis, giving Guy a way to wash off the blood from his hands.

Eep had offered to do it, blood never phased her but Guy insisted she just rest. In the meantime she had bathed in the spring, the sand and sweat on her uncomfortable before settling down by the fire to wait on her mate. She hadn't wanted to admit it but she felt rather tired after the long trek. Guy had his reasons for picking this place but he could be so strange and peculiar about it in a way she never understood.

Perhaps that was why she loved him so much. There was nobody else in the world like him, even if she could only count the amount of people she knew on both hands.

Eep stood up from her crouching position. "Sure, I'm starving," she exclaimed, eying the pig carcass greedily. "Are you absolutely certain we can't just - "

"No, you are not sinking your teeth into that thing without cooking it first," Guy scolded her, it was more akin to when Ugga was telling off her children for causing mischief. "You'll get sick. I need to bring you back to Grug in one piece or I'll be in pieces."

"Fineeeee," Eep compromised with a dramatic sigh, leaning her neck back before walking over to help her mate spear the pig.

Eep with Guy’s help, well, mostly Eep but she liked making him feel useful, carried the spitted animal towards the campfire and held it over it. Guy had crafted some little makeshift contraption with wood and rope he'd packed, so they could use a pulley system to rotate the roasting boar

The two took alternating shifts.

"It's funny," Eep couldn’t help but muse suddenly, taking in the view. The fire made the golden sandstone burn a brilliant red color, reminding her of amber.

"What's funny?" Guy asked from his post by the pig, rotating it with a careful eye so it cooked evenly.

"Well…" Eep leaned her elbow on her bent knee, her chin on her hand. "We met in a desert and you asked me to marry you in one too."

Guy tried hiding his smile by turning back to cooking but Eep saw it, perceptive as always. He pretended to ignore her narrow eyed look. "Funny how fate works," he quipped and heard Eep snort in a very unadulterated fashion.

"You planned this," Eep accused him and Guy finally was forced to face the music because the boar didn't need this much turning on the spit.

"Me? Plan things? You must be mistaken," Guy quipped, his tone betraying him. His grin was wide. "Okay, you got me. Happy anniversary, or have you forgotten?"

"As if I can forget the night I nearly dashed your brains out with a rock," she said with more fondness than any normal person should, jumping to her feet.

Guy held her hands, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against hers. "Me either, you're a hard one to forget."

"Well, I did call you back."

"You did," he agreed before pouting. "Not my smoothest pick up line though."

"So you didn't tell every girl that line? 'If you survive, call me?'" Eep quoted, exposing her teeth in a teasing smirk.

"Nope, you were the first and only," Guy assured her, winking. "It worked."

"It did," she agreed back, shaking her head with a giggle. "So…" Eep began coyly, averting her eyes towards the landscape colored black in silhouette.

"So…?" Guy urged her, knowing that Eep didn't need the coaxing but somehow it had just become their thing.

"What if I did come with you that night," Eep asked him, turning back to bat her eyelashes at him. "I think this is the perfect spot to humor the thought." She gazed around the desert, the ground hard with stone, much like the one she had followed Guy's fire that night.

"Well for one, your dad would have killed me because I didn't know he was part of the equation yet," Guy replied, both joking and serious as he said it. "This little journey would have definitely been way more interesting though if I had stolen you away from him."

"Stolen me," she echoed with a laugh though her ears burned from a mixture of the fire and thought. There had been an obvious attraction and two teenagers journeying alone, well, it didn't take a Betterman to figure it out. "You make this sound scandalous, Guy."

"It's not now though so that means when you took my hand, I'd do this." He lifted her palm to his lips, gently kissing a scar that led down to the pulse point of her wrist.

"No, you wouldn't have," Eep teased him. "You were too scared of me to try it."

"I wouldn’t," he agreed. "But this is a fantasy so anything can happen."

"Okay," she amused him, letting Guy continue his little story.

Guy seemed to realize a dark implication in this what if and since it was a fantasy, he could change that. "The world isn't ending, I'm still a nomad but you're just a stir crazy teenage girl instead."

"I am a stir crazy teenage girl," Eep corrected him, leaning up on her toes to brush his cheek with her nose. "And I'll remind you everyday, babe."

"You make telling this story harder than it needs to be," Guy lamented in mock offense, drawing her closer to eye her down. Eep just grinned innocently. "Stop putting plot holes."

Eep just giggled, feeling him turn her hand over to kiss her knuckles and each finger delicately. It was like having a butterfly touch her skin.

"Fine, then what?"

"We'd run away together," he continued, looking up at her with loving eyes. "Somehow outsmart your dad because Sandy would totally have sniffed us out in the morning."

Eep smirked, fighting off a broad smile in her amusement. "Would you have fought him?"

"I mean…" Sure, it was a fantasy but he was also just stronger, bigger and scarier than Guy was. Besides, hindsight wasn't twenty twenty and this caveman was now a second father to him. As annoying and abrasive as Grug had been in all the time Guy knew him, he also had a begrudging respect and admiration for him too. "Maybe we'd just bring him along anyway, save us the trouble."

"Is the log ride magic now?" Eep asked him with a wicked grin. "Does it fly us to Tomorrow? I'm sure it could if dad kicked it hard enough for us."

Guy scoffed, "This is my fantasy so there is no log."

"Aw, you're no fun," she sniggered, lifting his hand to press his palm into her nose fondly. "The log brought us together."

"Yeah but in this story you already came with me," Guy reminded her with a gentle tug, taking her hand back to stroke his thumbs fondly over her knuckles.

Eep tried hard not to laugh again, blushing as well under the soft look he gave her. He smiled at her and she melted like ice. It was intimate and vulnerable, more so than anything they'd done in all the time proceeding to this moment.

"Alright," she murmured, stroking his chest after laying her palm flat against his heart. She fiddled with the seashells dangling around his neck, idly stroking his throat and felt him swallow. "Then what?"

"I'd show you the world and since there's no The End… we wouldn't rush through it. You know, actually do some sight seeing. Fall slowly in love with each beautiful thing I show you but never seems to compare to you." Eep couldn’t help the giddy giggle as he called her beautiful, beaming bright like a sun ray at his compliment. Guy's eyes almost glazed over as he gave the silly romantic escapade story more thought, he chuckled. "Your dad would ruin all our little moments though, so it's kinda hard."

"So even in this little I went with you story, dad still keeps us apart?" Eep pouted.

"Every story needs conflict," Guy teased her. "Dad was going to catch up eventually, family in tow. We were taking the scenic route, it was bound to happen, Eep."

Eep rolled her eyes at him, tugging Guy down so they could sit with their backs to the fire. She leaned her weight against his side, feeling Guy rest his arm behind her back. "I hope things start getting more romantic for us, Guy."

Guy pressed a kiss to her temple, grinning. "It does. After hauling our crazy family cross country, we find the sun hidden on a mountain."

Eep remembered Guy's mountain, two tall twin peaks that extended high above the sky, swathed in clouds and extending out to a meadow after climbing the outcrop. They were supposed to ride it to Tomorrow, joining it among the many sleeping suns above. "How are we going to ride it to Tomorrow if I'm your Tomorrow?"

"I'm retconning stuff, stop spoiling the story," Guy scolded her, just resting his head on hers, taking in her smokey wild scent. "I realize this sooner, because the sun isn't really attainable. We go after it but it just gets farther and farther away." He extended his hand out in a reaching gesture. This meant Guy was really getting into the story.

"Are you sad for awhile?" Eep inquired, absently hugging his bicep now that Guy no longer held her hands.

"For a bit," he admitted. "I mean, my parents said to follow the sun but you really can't but…" Guy paused and gazed fondly at his wife tucked into his side, body warm, familiar and supple.

"But…?"

"I found you, light led me to you. I realize this and tell you I love you after this little journey." Guy nuzzled her cheek with a blissful little sigh. "Also then we find the Bettermans and live happily ever after in their treehouse with the punch monkeys."

Eep poked him in the chest, not really the reaction he was expecting after that happy ending. "You can't just skip an entire chapter like that and tack 'the end!'"

Guy took her hand in both of his, cupping it tender in-between his palms. "It works when your dad tells stories," he joked.

"Well, that was before you started telling better stories," Eep exclaimed with a childish huff that was so her it made Guy muffle a laugh into her shoulder.

"Did you tell Grug that?"

"You know how dad is," she replied a bit more sheepishly this time. "Least everybody doesn't die at the end anymore."

"They don't," he agreed, gazing at her fondly once again. "He's getting better though, I like happy endings."

"I like happy endings. I like you," Eep added, cuddling herself cozy as a cat under his arm and against his chest. She listened to his heartbeat, soothed by the gentle thump.

Guy stroked her back, gentle as he rested his chin above her head. "Only like?" He murmured.

"Maybe if you don't rush your endings then I'll say something else," she told him, Guy feeling her lips as she spoke against his heart.

Guy hugged her, adjusting his position so he could tug his wife onto his lap. She immediately curled up there, warm and safe as he draped his arms around her like a cocoon. "What if there is no ending yet? I like leaving our story open ended, Eep."

He suddenly found himself on his back and he gave a soft oof in surprise. Eep leaned over him, hands braced above his head as she looked down at him. The firelight made her already bright red hair even more so, blazing like the sun with the dark shadows making her eyes and face seem more intense.

"Then… I guess I can accept that," she relented after several moments, a smile crossing her face. She pressed her forehead against his, nose touching his.

Guy's eyes fluttered closed, knowing the intimate implications of the gesture amongst her people. He felt her breath fan his face before something soft touched his lips.

Immediately he wrapped his arms around her, letting his palms gently stroke the strong muscles of her back as they flexed beneath them. He'd never tired of her, beautiful and feral as she was. There was a soft gasp against his lips and he gave a quiet little growl, pressing up to mold his body with hers.

He found his words despite wanting to just keep kissing her. The moment was too right to neglect however. It took a few long moments of trading kiss after kiss that Guy had an idea to put his lips to good use in a way he wouldn't need to stop. Trailing a few heated kisses down the soft slope of her neck, he mumbled, "Eep?"

She hummed, "Mhm?" It was hardly the most direct of words but he took it.

"You lit a fire in me when we met," Guy confessed though he knew it was obvious at this point. It was no secret despite the circumstances of their relationship's beginning, he'd been infatuated and found her cute. Scary habits despite that, of course. "And you were in my every thought since then, I really was hoping you'd call me, Eep."

"I really wanted to go with you," she said, pushing him away to graze a palm down his bicep, tracing a stripe fondly before finding his hand to lace their fingers together. Her touch singed him more than the embers behind him did from where he lay. "I just…"

"You came with me eventually though," he reminded her though found he needed to remind himself to focus when she lifted his hand to her lips to kiss his longer fingers. He closed his eyes, sighing. "You gave me something even better than any Tomorrow I thought I'd find out there."

"Even if you were a stupid boy?" She teased him through the haze, bracing her weight against his again. She still sometimes made fun of him for that but in the moment he hardly cared, caging her in his arms.

"Yes," he grunted, Guy would agree to anything she said right now so long as she kept touching him like this.

Their lips met again but she suddenly paused, her roaming hands no longer roaming. He huffed against her lips, confused and a bit frustrated that she stopped.

"Guy?" Eep murmured against his lips breathily.

"Mhm?" It wasn't an intelligible response but having Eep so close to him like this always rendered him a useless fool.

"Do you smell something burning?" Eep drew away, ignoring Guy's protesting whine as their lips no longer brushed.

"Just my love for you," he told her, sitting up with what he hoped was a winning smile.

Eep flared her nostrils at the smell and eyes widening looked past Guy towards their camp fire, having completely forgotten about the cooking boar during their recent activities.

"Guy, the boar is on fire," she exclaimed.

Guy in an instant scrambled to his feet to try salvaging their dinner. "Oh crap!" He ran for a waterskin and a blanket but to Eep it was probably a fruitless endeavor.

She was never much of a picky eater anyway. Sometimes some burning did a meal good, she thought, touching her lips with a grin.

[michaelbogild]

Lines by Joanna Newsom

No one knows what is coming Or who will harvest what we have sewn Or how I've been dulling and dumbing In the service of the heart alone

Oh, silent, constant driver of mine: wordlessly calling from the end of the line, where, even though each hour I ever loved must queue and dive, still, you will not take my heart, alive.

And darling we will be fine but what was yours and mine appears to me a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes But if it's all just the same then will you say my name? Say my name in the morning so that I know when the wave breaks

I fell, I tried to do well but I won't be. Will you tell the one that I love to remember and hold me?

See, I got gone when I got wise But I can't with certainty say we survived

Stay with me for awhile, that's an awfully real gun I know life will lay you down as the lightning has lately done

All we saw was that Time is taller than Space is wide

What happened to the man you were, when you loved somebody before her? Did he die? Or does that man endure, somewhere far away?

I don't know if you loved me most, but you loved me last.

Meanwhile, I will raise my own glass to how you made me fast and expendable And I will drink to your excellent health and your cruelty, will you have one on me?

It was a dark dream, darlin', it's over The firebreather is beneath the clover Beneath his breathing there is cold clay, forever A toothless hound-dog choking on a feather

the records they left are cryptic at best, lost in obsolescence.

The old veil of desire, like vessels that we fired, fell thin as eggshells.

But stand brave, life-liver, bleeding out your days in the river of time. Stand brave: time moves both ways, in the nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating joy of life;

Anyhow, I sat by your side, by the water You taught me the names of the stars overhead that I wrote down in my ledger Though all I knew of the rote universe were those Pleiades loosed in December I promised you I'd set them to verse, so I'd always remember

I called to you several times while the change took place and then arrived all night And I died But all these songs, when you and I are long gone, will carry on

That the meteorite is the source of the light and the meteor's just what we see And the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee And the meteorite's just what causes the light and the meteor's how it's perceived And the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void, that lies quiet in offering to thee

Hardly seen, hardly felt– deep down where your fight is waiting, down 'till the light in your eyes is fading:

There's a big black spider hanging over my door Can't go anywhere, anymore

Who asked you? Asked you if you want to be Loved by me? Who died and made you in charge of who loves who?

And I saw straight away that the lay was steep But I fell for you, honey, as easy as falling asleep And that right there is the course I keep

And the tilt of this strange nation And the will to remain for the duration Waving the flag Feeling it drag

Hey, hey, hey, the end is near On a good day you can see the end from here But I won't turn back now though the way is clear I will stay for the remainder

You froze in your sand shoal, prayed for your poor soul Sky was a bread roll, soaking in a milk-bowl And when the bread broke, fell in bricks of wet smoke My sleeping heart woke, and my waking heart spoke

And it's my heart, not me, who cannot drive At which conclusion you arrived Watching me sit here bolt upright and cry For no good reason at the Eastering sky

bearing weight, taking fire, trading smokes, in the war between us and our ghosts.

And every little gust that chances through will dance in the dust of me and you, with joy-of-life.

We broke our hearts in the war between St. George and the dragon But both in equal parts are welcome to come along I'm inviting everyone

By the time you read this, I will be so far away Daddy Longlegs, how in the world am I to be expected to stay? In the night, in the night, you may hear me call Pa, stay your hand and steel your resolve, stay where you are, so long and tall

Our nature does not change by will In the winter, 'round the ruined mill The creek is lying flat and still It is water, though it's frozen

Our lived come easy and our lives come hard. We carry them like a pack of cards: some we don't use, but we don't discard, but keep for a rainy day.

Until the night is over, hold on, hold on Hold your horses back from the fickle dawn

I am easy Easy to keep Honey, you please me Even in your sleep But my arms want to carry My heart wants to hold Tell me your worries, I want to be told

There is a blacksmith and there is a shepherd and there is a butcher-boy And there is a barber, who's cutting and cutting away at my only joy

And that is all I want here To draw my gaunt spirit to bow Beneath what I am allowed

How I said to you, "Honey, just open your heart" When I've got trouble even opening a honey jar And that right there is where we are

My heart is a furnace full of love that's just, and earnest Now, you know that we must unlearn this

Squint skyward and listen Loving him, we move within his borders Just asterisms in the stars' set order

"Do you love me? Will you remember?" The snow falls above me. The renderer renders: "The event is in the hand of God".

And I been 'fessing double fast Addressing questions nobody asked I'll get this joy off of my chest at last And I will love you 'til the noise has long since passed

With your hands in your pockets, stubbly running To where I'm unfresh, undressed and yawning Well, what is this craziness? This crazy talking? You caught some small death when you were sleepwalking

And there was a booming above you That night, black airplanes flew over the sea And they were lowing and shifting like beached whales Shelled snails, as you strained and you squinted to see The retreat of their hairless and blind cavalry

You ranged real hot and real cold but I'm sold I am home on that range And I do hate to fold Right here at the top of my game

Then down and down and down and down and down and deeper Stoke, without sound, the blameless flames, you endless sleeper Through fire below and fire above, and fire within Sleep through the things that couldn't have been if you had not have been

You burned me like a barn I burned safe and warm in your arms

All the way to the thing we've been playing at, darlin' I can see that you're wearing your staying hat, darlin' For the time being all is well Won't you love me a spell?

And when the fire moves away Fire moves away, son Why would you say I was the last one?

And I rose, to take my shape at last, from the dreams that had dogged me, through every past, when, to my soul, the body would say You may do what you like, as long as you stay.

And, in your kindness, you put me straightaway in the cupboard with a bottle of champagne And then, later, on a train

Well I wish we could take every path I could spend a hundred years adoring you Yes, I wish we could take every path because you know I hated to close the door on you

And then a slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision While somewhere with your pliers and glue, you make your first incision And in a moment of almost unbearable vision, doubled over with the hunger of lions "Hold me close," cooed the dove, who was stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds

In martial wind, and in clarion rain, we minced into battle, wincing in pain; not meant for walking, backs bound in twine: not angel or devil, but level, in time.

The text will not yield, nor x-ray reveal with any fluorescence where the hand of the master begins and ends.

When cruel death debases, we believe it erases all the rest that precedes.

What’s redacted will repeat, and you cannot learn that you burn when you touch the heat, so we touch the heat, and we cut facsimiles of love and death (just separate holes in sheets where you cannot breathe, and you cannot see).

Here, the light will seep And the scythe will reap And spirit will rend In counting toward the end

All the livelong day If I have my way, I will love you But one can't carry the weight Or change the fate of two I've been waiting for a break How long's it gonna take? Let me love you

But it don't make no difference, now, and no-one's listening, anyhow, and lists of sins and solemn vows don't make you any friends.

I have got some business out at the edge of town Candy weighing both of my pockets down Till I can hardly stay afloat, from the weight of them And knowing how the common folk condemn What it is I do, to you, to keep you warm Being a woman, being a woman

And it pains me to say, I was wrong. Love is not a symptom of time. Time is just a symptom of love

Where i know that you can yield, when it comes down to it; bow like the field when the wind combs through it:

But though I tried so hard my little darling I couldn't keep the night from coming in

All along the road, the lights stream by. I want to go where the dew won’t dry. I want to go where the light won’t bend– far as the eye may reach–nor end.

I can't claim that I knew you best, but did you know me at all?

But it's mine. Or, at least, it's lent. And my life, until the time is spent is a pin-light, bent.

Though the long road begins and ends with you I cannot seem to make amends with you

In the folds and the branches, somewhere, out there, I was only just born into open air. Now hush, little babe. You don’t want to be down in the trenches, remembering with me, where you will not mark my leaving, and you will not hear my parting song. Nor is there cause for grieving. Nor is there cause for carrying on.

But inasmuch as that light is loaned, and, insofar as we’ve borrowed bones, must every debt now be repaid in star-spotted, sickle-winged night raids, while we sing to the garden, and we sing to the stars, and we sing in the meantime, wherever you are?

Rowing along, among the reeds, among the rushes I heard your song, before my heart had time to hush it

Easy, easy You must not fear You must meet me to see me I am barely here But like a Bloody Mary Seen in the mirror Speak my name And I appear

And the little white dove made with love, made with love made with glue and a glove and some pliers Swings a low sickle arc from its perch in the dark, settle down, settle down my desire

In our lives is a common sense that relies on the common fence that divides, and attends, but provides scant defense from the Great Light that shine through a pin-hole, when the pin-light calls itself Selfhood, and the Selfhood inverts on a mirror in an Amora Obscura.

When I've been trying with my whole heart and soul To stay right here in the right lane But it can make you feel over and old Lord, you know it's a shame When I only want for you to pull over and hold me Till I can't remember my own name

Then in my hot hand, she slumped her sick weight We tramped through the poison oak, heartbroke and inchoate The dogs were snapping, and you cuffed their collars While I climbed the tree-house, then how I hollered

At night, I walk in the park with a whip between the lines of the whispering Jesuits Who are poisoning you against me

And what do you remember most? The line of the sea, seceding the coast? Fine capillaries, glowing with cars? The comfort you drew from the light of the stars?

Failing this, failing this, follow me, my sweetest friend To see what you anointed in pointing your gun there Lay it down, nice and slow, there is nowhere to go

it was dark out, I was half-dead I saw a star fall into the sky like a chunk of thrown coal as if God himself spat like a cornered rat

but honey it’s been a long time since I’ve come to any use. And it hurt me bad, when I heard the news that you’d got that call, and could not refuse.

But always up the mountainside you're clambering Groping blindly, hungry for anything Picking through your pocket linings, well, what is this? Scrap of sassafras, eh Sisyphus?

Come across the desert with no shoes on I love you truly or I love no-one

And when I cut your hair and leave the birds all of the trimmings I am the happiest woman among all women

You asked my hand, hired a band "In your heart is all that you need Ask and you will receive," it is said I threw my bouquet and I knocked 'em dead

Haven't you seen what I've seen? Don't you know what you ought to do? I was born to love And I intend to love you

The borders of the land that man has girded All double-bolted and tightfisted Until we reach the open country A-steeped in milk and honey Will you keep your fancy clothes on, for me? Can you bear a little longer to wear that leash? My love, I swear by the air I breathe Sooner or later, you'll bare your teeth

From the top of the flight of the wide white stairs Through the rest of my life, do you wait for me there? There's a bell in my ears, there's a wide white roar Drop a bell down the stairs, hear it fall forever more Hear it fall forever more

And no amount of talking is going to soften the fall But, like after the rain, step out if the overhang, that's all It had a nice a ring to it when the ole opry house rang So with a solemn auld lang Signed, sealed, delivered, I sang And there is hesitation and it always remains Concerning you, me And the rest of the gang And in our quiet hour I feel I see everything And am in love with the hook upon which everyone hangs And I know you meant to show the extent To which you gave a god dang

Beyond recall, you severed all strings to everyone, and everything.

And in an infinite regress: Tell me, why is the pain of birth lighter borne than the pain of death? I ain't saying that I loved you first, but I loved you best.

And though our bones they may break and our souls separate, why the long face? And though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil, why the long face?"

I think you saw their flares and kept me safely unawares In your arms

But there is nothing I adore apart from that whore's black heart

But I took my fishing pole, fearing your fever Down to the swimming hole, where there grows a bitter herb That blooms but one day a year, by the riverside, I'd bring it here Apply it gently to the love you've lent me

See how the infinite divides: and the divers are not to blame for the rift, spanning distant shores. You don't know my name, but I know yours.

We are tested and pained By what's beyond our bed We are blessed and sustained By what is not said

The wandering eye that I have caught Is as hot as a wandering sun But I will want for nothing more in my garden, start again In my hardening to every heart but one

So, across the years and miles and through On a good day you can feel my love for you Will you leave me be so that we can stay true To the path that you have chosen?

But for now, just dance, darling C'mon, will you dance, my darling? Darling, there's a place for us Can we go, before I turn to dust?

I see the blossoms broke and wet after the rain Little sister, he will be back again I have washed a thousand spiders down the drain Spiders' ghosts hang, soaked and Dangling silently, from all the blooming cherry trees In tiny nooses, safe from everyone Nothing but a nuisance, gone now, dead and done Be a woman, be a woman

I had a dream that i walked in the garden of Chabot, and those telescope ruins. It was there that I called to my true love, who was pale as millennial moons, Honey, where did you come by that wound?

Rushing, tearing, speeding home: bound to a wheel that is not my own, where round every bend I long to see temporal infidelity.

My mind is failing and my body grows weak My lips won't form the words I speak I'm floating away on a barrel of pain New York City won't see me again

Save up, up where the light, undiluted, is weaving In a drunk dream at the sight of my baby, out back Back on the patio, watching the bats bring night in While, elsewhere, estuaries of wax-white Wend, endlessly, towards seashores unmapped

Bleached the night with dawn deleting In that high sun after our good run When the spirit bends Beneath knowing it must end

Recall the word you gave: to count your way across the depths of this arid world, where you would yoke the waves, and lay a bed of shining pearls!

When the sky goes pink in Paris, France, do you think of the girl who used to dance when you'd frame her moving within your hands, saying This I won't forget?

Hey little leaf, lying on the ground Now you're turning slightly brown Why don't you get up on the tree Turn the color green the way you ought to be

Now the towns and forests, highways and plains, fall back in circles like an emptying drain. And I won't come round this way again, where the lonely wind abides, and you will not take my heart, alive. You will not take my heart.

I saw a rabbit as slick as a knife and as pale as a candlestick And I had thought it'd be harder to do but I caught her, and skinned her quick

I said a sort of prayer for some rare grace Then thought I ought to take her to a higher place Said, "Dog nor vulture nor cat shall toy with you And though you die, bird, you will have a fine view"

till we hear the telltale Boom, too soon– hotdogging loon, caught there like a shard of mirror in the moon!

There's an old trick played, when the light and the wine conspire to make me think I'm fine. I'm not, but I have got half a mind to maybe get there, yet.

It was dark, I was drunk and half-dead and we slept, knocking heads

And the moment I slept, I was swept up in a terrible tremor Though no longer bereft, how I shook and I couldn't remember And then the furthermost shake, drove a murdering stake in and cleft me right down through my center And I shouldn't say so but I know that it was then or never

Down in the valley where the fields are green Watch my luck turn, fro, and to Pluck every last daisy clean till only I may love you

I saw a life and I called it mine I saw it drawn so sweet and fine And I had begun to fill in all the lines Right down to what we'd name her

I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight No, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright So enough of this terror we deserve to know light and grow evermore lighter and lighter You would have seen me through but I could not undo that desire

A goose, alone, I suppose, can know the loneliness of geese, who never find their peace,whether north, or south, or west, or east

I'll hunt the pearl of death to the bottom of my life, and ever hold my breath, till I may be the diver's wife.

I call and call for the doctor but the snow swallows me whole with ol' Florry Walker and the event lives only in print.

This is blindness beyond all conceiving Well, behind us the road is leaving, yeah, leaving And falling back Like a rope gone slack

Bottle of white, bottle of red Helpless as a child, when you held me in your arms And I knew that no other could ever love me as you loved Love me as you loved but help me, I'm leaving

Dig a little hole not three inches round Spit your pit in a hole in the ground Weep upon the spot for the starving of me Till up grows a fine young cherry tree When the bough breaks, what'll you make for me?

But I saw the Bering Strait and the Golden Gate, in silent suspension of their golden age

And everything sloped like it was dragged from a rope in the mouth of the south below

Do you remember staring up at the stars So far away in their bulletproof cars?

I found a little plot of land in the garden of Eden It was dirt and dirt is all the same I tilled it with my two hands and I called it my very own There was no one to dispute my claim