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raendown · 3 years

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I return from the dead with a fic that isn't even for the Naruto fandom and I don't really have an explanation for myself.

Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2317 Fandom: MCU Summary: Visiting Steve was always strange now that the guy was old and retired. Still, of all the things Sam expected out of today, witnessing a prime example of gay panic from the co-worker that's been mysteriously avoiding him was not one of them.

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Honestly, the fact that Steve's house smelled like prunes was probably one of the funniest things that Sam had ever heard in his life. More than anything he would have loved to go back in time, to the days of reading about glorified heroes in history textbooks, and tell his fifteen year old self that Captain America, Steve Rogers, retired in a house that smelled like prunes. God, his best friend just had to throw himself in to being old the way he threw himself in to everything else.

"Is there a special reason for you visiting?" Steve's voice was more tremulous these days, less steady but no less warm. Just hearing him again after the shameful amount of weeks it had been since his last visit made Sam grin.

"Nah, just thought I'd pop in and see if you'd expired yet. Your birthday's coming up. Gonna be, what, three hundred? A thousand?"

Steve narrowed his eyes but there was fondness in them so it wasn't very scary even if he could probably still tackle Sam across the room if he wanted to. At this point it would hurt him too but he could do it. "You, young man, are-"

He looked chagrined at himself when Sam cut him off with a laugh.

"You shitting me? Did you really just call me young man? See if I ever let you live that down."

His friend grumbled but accepted the teasing as his due. That was just what he got for going back in time and doubling down on being so much older than his own best friends.

Since it had indeed been a little too long after they last saw each other there was quite a bit of catching up for them to do. Over cool glasses of sweet tea and a plate of cookies the two of them spent a pleasant couple of hours shooting the shit until Sam could almost forget the years that stretched between them now. It was jarring, sometimes, looking away from those clear blue eyes to realize all over again just how many wrinkles they were set in. Sometimes he hated it. Other times he could only smile to know that at least one of their ragtag bunch had found the peace they were looking for.

Eventually all that sweet tea went right to his bladder and Sam excused himself to use the bathroom. When he returned he took in the sight of his friend all snug under one of the blankets his late wife had knit and sighed, feeling maudlin suddenly for no good reason.

"I should probably get out of your hair," he said. "Let you get in your afternoon nap or whatever. No, stay there man, I'll clean up." His smile was easy as he snagged the dishes from their grazing and hauled it all over to the kitchen.

"You sure?" Steve's voice floated after him. "Nothing else you want to get off your chest?"

"Huh?"

Sam frowned at the cups he'd just placed in the sink, running back through his mind. They'd talked about pretty much everything he could think of.

"You didn't mention Buck once, you know. I thought the two of you were friends now."

"Ah. Yeah. So did I." The corners of his mouth twisted with a little bitterness, a little confusion. After everything they'd been through and the number of times Bucky had accepted his invitations down to Delacroix he'd thought they were well past the point of calling themselves friends. Maybe he himself felt something a little more than that but he knew better than to push.

That was probably why Bucky's sudden radio silence hurt so much though.

"Trouble in paradise?" Steve called from the other room and Sam snorted.

“Shit, I don’t know. One minute we’re fine and the next he just up and disappears on me again. I may or may not have checked a bunch of obituaries for your name just in case because I have no idea what I might have done to piss him off.” Sam pursed his lips. He’s already gone over all this with Sarah a half dozen times and in all the recounts he’d done of their last couple missions he still couldn’t find any particularly bad moment between him and his best friend. Unfortunately the sweet tea he was glaring at didn’t have any answers either so he snatched the pitcher up and moved to put it in the fridge.

“Have you tried, oh I don’t know, asking him what’s wrong?”

“You think I didn’t try that?”

Steve’s hum drifted down the hallway with a distinct note of sass. “Neither one of you is very famous for your communication.”

“Excuse you, I was a counselor. A certified veteran’s counselor. Communicating with people was literally my job until your overly buff ass came running around all ‘on your left’ and ‘everyone I know is trying to kill me’.” Sam huffed as he snapped the fridge closed. “I damn well tried to talk to him but he’s not answering my texts or my calls. Short of breaking in to his apartment I don’t really know what else you want me to do.”

Without any other excuses to keep him in the kitchen Sam heaved a sigh, knowing he couldn’t dawdle any longer. He could only get to the door by going though the living room so his choices were either run away out the back, which he would never ever hear the end of, or go back in to the living room and face Steve with his stupidly wise and knowing eyes. Seriously, let a guy live to almost two hundred and suddenly he thought he knew everything. Annoying was what it was.

He was only halfway down the hall when he heard the front door open. Sam very carefully swallowed down the jibe he’d just been about to deliver and hoped that meant what he thought it meant. Maybe Steve had finally gone vague after all and bailed in the middle of their conversation; he’d rather chase a crazy old coot down the street than talk about his feelings regarding one James Buchanan Barnes. Actually if he looked at it from the right angle then chasing an old coot down the street was pretty much his job description whenever he and his partner teamed up on missions. Sam was just glad they hadn’t been called in to one since this whole silent treatment had started because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know whether or not Bucky would still have his back even when the guy was mad at him over reasons unknown.

Two more steps and Sam froze in his tracks, eyes wide with disbelief. Bucky’s shoulders were hunched in to himself with something bridling on panic as he fit himself through the front door and kicked it shut behind himself, eyes wild and fixed on the ground between his feet, nervous energy pouring out of him in a way Sam hadn’t seen before. From his spot on the couch Steve watched his childhood friend let himself in with serene indifference.

“Didn’t know you’d be over today,” was all he said. Then he smiled benignly when Bucky let out a soft whine.

“Help,” Bucky pleaded. “I’m dying.”

Then Bucky slid down to his knees and face planted in the carpet, arms and legs splaying out wide. Steve hummed.

“You know,” he murmured, “no one ever believes me when I tell them you’re this dramatic.”

“Steve! I’m having a crisis!”

“I tell everyone you’re a drama queen and they just shake their heads at me.”

“This is important! You have to kill me, Steve. Or I’m gonna just- just-!” Bucky’s voice petered out with another extended whine muffled by the carpet that probably didn’t smell any better from that close up.

Crossing one leg over the other, Steve folded his hands in his lap with a great lack of concern for the ridiculous scene playing out before him. Sam remained frozen in the hallway, wondering if Bucky even realized he was there, but he got an answer to that almost faster than if he’d bothered to ask himself.

“What’s wrong, pal?”

“It’s Sam!” Bucky cried. His arms lifted up like wings to flail briefly before falling back to the floor in a boneless sprawl. “Please just crush my head or something. I can’t take this.”

“Ah, yes, I hear you’ve been avoiding him.”

Whatever kind of noise Bucky was trying to make, it came out sounding more like he was choking on carpet fumes. “Of course I’m avoiding him!”

“Now why on earth would you do that?”

“I want to stick my tongue in the gap between his teeth!” Bucky said, entirely unaware of the sparks that were suddenly running up Sam’s spine in the hallway. “Help me, Steve! I want to press my thumb in the little dimple on his back. He has a dimple on his back! Why!? Steve I want to hold his hand! What the fuck!”

Steve had both eyebrows up near his hairline and the most shit eating grin any human on the planet had ever worn when he turned his head to look at Sam. Frozen with his eyes on the figure currently panicking in to the floor, Sam paid him no attention. He was busy processing. After getting to know Bucky, inviting him to stay in Delacroix time and time again, the dramatics weren’t actually that much of a surprise. Obviously as they grew closer he’d gotten a number of glimpses in to who the real Bucky Barnes was under the grouchy veneer he presented to the world. Watching him starfish on the ground and whine wasn’t too far from what he’d already seen.

Hearing him say anything about his tongue in conjecture with Sam’s teeth, on the other hand, now that was a bit unexpected. More than a bit.

“I think Shuri called this ‘gay panic’ and honestly I’m in agreement,” Bucky went on mindlessly. “If I have to watch him go through one more workout and not grab his ass with both hands then I’m just going to rip both of them off. Who needs hands if I cannot grab Sam Wilson’s ass with them!?”

“You may be slightly exaggerating the situation, I feel,” Steve told him.

Bucky snorted. “I am not. I absolutely am not. Why is he so hot? And nice? I hate that. Except I don’t. Steve why is he so nice to me?”

“That might be a question you should ask him.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ve got lots of questions for him! Hey Sam, why are you nice to me? Hey Sam, can I lick your cheekbones? Hey Sam, how big is your cock?”

“Well. Not that I’ve ever thought to ask that myself but, alright. Go on, Sam, how big is it?”

Sam had just enough time to cross his arms over his chest and assume a very casual pose leaning against the wall beside him before Bucky’s head shot up off the carpet. If possible, his eyes were even more wild than before when he fixed them on Steve, full of the deepest betrayal. Then he very slowly dragged them sideways to see the man he’d just been panicking over. Sam gave him a very friendly smile.

“Depends on your frame of reference,” he admitted. “I’d say sizeable.”

“Nnnggggg.”

“Hi Buck.”

“Ggnnn.”

While Steve very poorly disguised a laugh behind one hand, Sam pushed off from the wall and sauntered further in to the living room. Bucky slammed his face back in to the carpet.

“Leave me here to die,” he pleaded in a very small voice. Sam tutted, reaching for the front door, only looking over his shoulder once he was halfway through it.

“Come on, Buck, can’t lick my cheekbones if you don’t get off the floor. It was a nice visit, Steve, but don’t be looking out your front curtains for a bit. I think I’ll let Bucky decide for himself what sizeable means.” He thanked god for the mercy of Steve’s house being situated out here so far from any other homes, surrounded on all sides by enough trees that you couldn’t see it from the road. A gorgeous little island of privacy. Sam was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one grateful for this, judging by the mad scrambling noises he could hear going on behind him.

Bucky’s voice garbled out something that sounded like ‘fuck you, thank you, bye forever’ and then Sam was listening to the slam of the front door barely a second before strong hands were wrapping themselves around his hips. He laughed even as Bucky’s face came in to view.

“Greatest assassin of several generations and you didn't notice my truck in the driveway?” he said.

“I may have been a bit distracted.” That was definitely a pout on Bucky’s lips.

“By being so hot for all of this”-Sam gestured vaguely down his own body-“that you literally ceased being able to function.”

He didn’t expect such easy agreement as the sheepish nod that followed his words. “Pretty much.”

Sam blinked slowly once, twice. For one long moment he considered teasing the man. Then he decided that their time was much better spent doing things they’d both obviously been wanting to do while assuming they would never get the chance.

“I was promised a tongue in my teeth. Are you gonna get to that any time soon or am I gonna sit here and pine some more for something I apparently could have had all along?”

Bucky keened piteously. Then he surged forward to follow through on his own promises and Sam really hoped that Steve had taken his words to heart about the curtains. The man was way too old to be seeing all the ways they were about to defile the side of this truck.

#rae writes #sambucky #winterfalcon #sam #bucky #steve #fanfiction #i'm not even really sorry either

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zodiyack · 4 years

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A Big Brother’s Duty

Requested by @beth-winchester21: Hi please can I request a shelby sister reader imagine where i ask to go to a party with my friends and the boys say know so I sneak out to the party and get drunk and the girls (esme,ada,polly,gina,linda and grace) tell the boys I snuck out and they come and find me but I hide with my boyfriend and they catch us making out and get mad and embarrass me infront of everyone thanks xx

Pairing: Shelby & Gray family + Shelby!reader (No romance)

Warnings: Swearing, smol angst, alcohol mentions, bit o vomit

Note: Unfortunately, I cannot include all the girls for reasons that follow the show. To avoid spoilers for anyone who has yet to watch the show, neither Esme or Grace would be in the same fic as Gina due to deaths and actions throughout the show, so I didn’t include Gina in this. And it might be a bit different from what you wanted, but it was the best I could do. I hope that’s alright! Also the boys embarrassing the reader part of your request is accurate in my opinion, take Finn being left alone with the girls for example 😳😂

Side note, your boyfriend’s name is George because- idk... okay maybe i thought of another equally as amazing british fandom oops

Taglist: @matth1w @redspaceace @simonsbluee, @peakysputain

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

She clung to the bed sheets as tight as she could. Her calculations were a tad...off. To think, she wouldn’t be in this situation had her brothers been even a little more or less accepting of the fact that their “baby sister” was no longer a child. She was eighteen, a year younger than her brother Finn, yet she had less privileges than he did when he was thirteen.

Despite her brothers’, in her opinion, painfully obvious acts of favoritism, she was doing alright. Went on a date with her beloved, got caught by three very unhappy Shelby boys, was invited to a party, was banned from said party by the same pissed brothers- what was there not to love?

She knew as soon as Thomas offered letting his family stay with him and Grace for the night that it was a trap.

Y/n was just getting ready for the party when Polly walked in. She gave her niece words of advice, but Y/n brushed them off without a second thought. “There’s no use in getting ready, Y/n/n, the boys’ll stop you before you can even make it out this room.” She was speaking the truth, and Y/n realized that soon.

Y/n stomped back up the stairs and back into the guest room, where Grace sat. She smiled apologetically at Y/n and told her to forgive her brothers, as they were only being big brothers. The older woman felt bad for Y/n, but understood the protectiveness, as she felt the same feeling over the girl herself; to guide her and keep her from harm and evil. She left, leaving Y/n by herself.

And that’s how she got where she was now.

Dangling from the sheets that belonged to the guest bed, not enough cloth to get her safely to the ground without multiple risks. Noise, harm, potential death, she couldn’t risk it. But she couldn’t quite climb back up the warm fabric, especially not with her now sweaty palms.

“You sure you’re as good with numbers as you say you are?” The voice below her caused her to panic, grip slipping for a second before she clung to the sheet harder.

She looked down, expecting one of her brothers or cousin, but the color returned to her face when she saw someone she was not expecting. “George!”

“Let go, I’ll catch you.” The unsure look on her face washed away after he added, “I promise, Y/n/n.”

George caught her, staying true to his vow, and spun her around before setting her down and kissing her softly. “Shall we be going, milady?”

“Now now, Georgie, there are no needs for formalities. Please, call me Y/n/n.”

“Whatever makes you happy, dearest.” They broke into hushed chortles of laughter, running off of Tommy’s property and in the direction of the party, far from the home of Mr. and Mrs. Shelby.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Ada sat at her window, watching them leave and reporting to Polly, who reported to Thomas. Ada only agreed because similar events happened with Freddie and her.

Sure, Freddie was only chased out of Birmingham, temporarily, but she knew her little sister would’ve been heartbroken if her beloved had been as well. Besides, Freddie and Ada were only sneaking around in his home, not a party with strangers.

Knowing the Shelby name, as she once, and still, was burdened with it, her sister could easily be in danger. It wasn’t likely, but she didn’t want to take the chance. She’d rather be hated by the younger girl than have her be in a grave next to Freddie Thorne’s.

The boys set out, entering the unfamiliar building with determination visible in their eyes. Arthur was the first to speak, making their presence known all while unintentionally causing the party to quiet and still with fear and nervousness.

“Could anybody point us in the direction of Y/n Shelby?” No responses came, everyone still wide eyed due to the presence of the three infamous blinders. “No one? Well, lucky me! I get to pick which one of you bastards tells me where our sister is, alright?”

Some gulps sounded throughout the room. All eyes, if they weren’t before, were now on the brothers.

“You, boy. Have you seen her? About, yay-high,” he held his hand to his sister’s height, “lightweight, not too nice of a drunk? Probably accompanied by a scrawny red-head?”

“Oh! Yeeeeeah, you’re lookin’ for George and uh- Y-Y-Y/n, yeah, she’s uh- in there or something.” One of the younger folks drunkenly fessed up the Shelby sister’s location, earning a sarcastic grin from Arthur and a pat on the back.

“Thanks mate. Enjoy your drink.” The room was still staring. “Well, get on with your lives! Don’t let us stop your partying!” He grunted loudly as his tone changed from calm and kind to agitated.

He received a nod from Tommy, then kicked the door open. Y/n parted from the boy next to her, looking at her brothers with annoyance that slowly shifted to pure horror as she realized just who the people standing at the door-frame were.

“We’ve-only-had-one-drink-I-swear!” Y/n slapped her lover’s chest, his rushed choice of words for the situation clearly not making her feel any better. “Um- I mean.. shit...”

“Yeah, ‘Shit’’s right boy.”

“For fucks sake, could you please for once not murder our dates? Ada and I can never fucking breathe with you controlling our lives! News flash, I’m-” she paused. “I’m...”

John teased his sister, mischievous smile shining brightly. “You’re what? Spit it out, Y/n!”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Before her brothers could react, she hunched over and poured her guts over Tommy’s shoes. “Fuck-”

“Oh you’re gonna get it now, Y/n/n.” John chuckled into his hand, face red like Arthur’s. They both left the room as quick as they could, aware of Tommy’s temper more than what they would call comfortable.

The vomit would have one of two reactions. Either caring brother mode, or it’d set fire to the fuse of the bomb sitting atop Tommy’s rage.

He lifted his younger sister, shooting a glare at George as he did so. Tommy walked with her out of the room. She smiled, maybe his reaction wouldn’t be so bad after all. Looks like Caring-brother-side won!

However, it’s not wise to assume. Thomas shouted for the attention of the people in the home once more. “You see, us Shelby’s, we drink, and we do it well. However, it seems this little Shelby couldn’t keep it together. Not even after one drink.”

The crowed erupted into laughter, growing louder as a frown took place on Y/n’s lips. “That’s not necessary Tommy-”

“Yes, but neither was introducing your insides to my shoes, dear sister. Besides, I’m just doing my duty as your big brother! Perhaps this was too extreme for you. Would sitting at the kiddie table and drinking juice with Karl be more your level?”

More laughter sounded. The flush of embarrassment reddened her face and quickened her heart beat.

“One drink was far too much for her, obviously. What a shame.”

He smirked at his little sister before finally walking outside. “Learned your lesson, or should I go back in there?” he drawled teasingly.

“Please, for the love of all that is holy, take me home already.” Y/n muttered, the uneasiness more obvious in her voice. He didn’t move. “Yes, Thomas, I’ve learned my lesson. Please, just-”

“Alright, but you’re washing these in the morning, alright little sis?”

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever will get me home faster.”

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todisturbtheuniverse · 4 years

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FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [5/8]

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 4000 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine’s life brings Adaar’s feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn’t quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven’t read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Usually, Adaar liked nothing better than being on the road. Clear nights like these were best of all. It was easy to pick out constellations she knew, stars she'd once navigated by on her own, crisp against the velvet map of the heavens. She'd lain on a thin bedroll staring up at that sky more nights than she could count, and when she'd closed her eyes, she'd slept peacefully.

The view afforded her very little peace just now.

Four more days to Val Royeaux. Six more until this party that Adaar was supposed to appear at. She'd made up her mind as she left Josephine's office, though. She hadn't promised anything. Leliana had sent along the tools and information Adaar would need to deal with the House of Repose. Damn the woman, but she had done Adaar that small favor.

Her people answered to the Inquisitor, not the Ambassador. When they arrived in Val Royeaux, she would do what needed to be done. No more games.

Josephine would be angry, but the damage to their friendship had already been done. What did one more blow matter?

Best not to think about that. To hope, as was her habit, that Josephine had kissed her back and meant it. That it hadn't just been relief, or gratitude, or the heat of the moment, or…

Adaar would send her back to Skyhold with Leliana's people when it was all over, but she would not be escorting them. The additional protection Adaar and her companions offered would no longer be required. They could ride far faster than a handful of carts. They would go south, to the Emerald Graves, and Adaar would get back to doing what she did best.

She did not plan to go back to Skyhold for a long, long time.

She shifted a little in the open bed of the cart, easing her legs out of one position and into another. Wouldn't do to get too cramped if someone crept up on them in the dead of night. She needed to be quick. Quicker than she'd ever been. She blinked her bleary eyes and surveyed the lonesome wilderness around their meager campsite again, searching for anything that didn't belong.

Behind her, canvas rustled. She turned her head to note it, squinting through the dim starlight. Paranoia prickled at her, insisting that an assassin had slipped by both her and the four others on watch, but the part of her still capable of logic expected to see one of their own party leaving their tent.

She just didn't expect it to be Josephine.

Adaar looked away, back to watching the road and sparse woods behind. She briefly considered the merits of lying down flat in the cart, concealing herself from view entirely, but that was both too childish and too dangerous. She knew how likely she was to fall asleep, even on these hard boards, if she arranged herself horizontally.

So she listened, with pricked ears, to Josephine's footsteps. She hoped they would circle away, paired with whatever guard had the unfortunate task of protecting people while they pissed, but instead, they drew closer.

Shit.

They hadn't spoken much since leaving Skyhold. She'd avoided Josephine, staying close enough to watch her back but far enough away to ward off conversation. Josephine seemed to have picked up on this, accepted it; she hadn't said anything beyond a simple greeting this morning.

But they'd also been surrounded by others: scouts, guards, Adaar's companions. Perhaps she'd just been waiting for the right moment, when they'd be overheard by the fewest possible ears.

The right moment for what, Adaar had no idea. Another plea for Adaar to understand? An apology for being so cursed stubborn about this? A reprimand for kissing her? An entreaty to do it again?

Josephine paused when she drew alongside the back of the cart, just within Adaar's peripheral vision. "Inquisitor," she said softly.

Adaar watched the woods. "Ambassador."

The cart dipped a little with Josephine's weight. For a moment, they sat in silence, two feet of space between them. Adaar saw Josephine's head tip back, taking in the view of the heavens, but only out of the corner of her eye. She didn't think knowing the way starlight looked on that face would make this any easier.

"I brought you something," Josephine said at last, and Adaar realized she held a small wooden box. She set it down on the cart between them and opened the lid. "If you're not going to sleep, you'll need your strength."

Adaar glanced down at the box. A pile of little round cookies nestled on a linen napkin inside it, some of their edges crumbling.

Well, maybe she could rule out a reprimand, at least. That was...something.

"I don't know that sweets are the best choice for a long watch," she said, but she took one, anyway. "I don't recognize these."

"Polvorones. My favorites. My father's, too. He sends me quite a few of them, for fear that I'll get too homesick, the way he's always done. I usually hide them away for myself, but…" She clasped her hands in her lap. "I thought they might be an adequate peace offering. Or the beginning of one, anyway."

Adaar turned her attention back to the road as she took a bite of the cookie. It crumbled in her mouth, on her hands, sweet with a trace of almonds. She swallowed, took a sip from her water skin to wash the rest of the crumbles down as she considered.

It was abominably hard to tell this woman No, which was why she'd avoided situations where she'd have to do it at all costs.

"Danaya," she said, raising her voice.

Josephine's head turned toward her, but she didn't interrupt. Quick footsteps approached.

"Yes, Your Worship?" the guard said.

"Watch the rear. I am being distracted."

"Yes, Your Worship," Danaya agreed, and wisely moved a solid thirty feet down the road to take her post without further comment. Good woman. Didn't make a single face whatsoever.

"I'm listening," Adaar said to Josephine.

She heard Josephine's relieved breath. She unfolded a napkin over her lap, and her elegant fingers dipped into the box to pick out one of the polvorones for herself. "I've been thinking, these last few days. I realized how poorly I've behaved. We had an agreement. If you still want to deal with the House of Repose directly…I am a woman of my word. I won't argue further."

Adaar blinked. The possibility of an apology had occurred to her, and not even as a long shot; Josephine was mindful of other people's feelings. She'd certainly noticed how...off...Adaar was. Adaar was not that adept at concealing it.

But this? She hadn't expected this.

"Okay," she said slowly, testing. "That does make things a little easier, since I planned to do just that when we arrived in Val Royeaux."

Surprise—distress—flitted over Josephine's face, but it quickly smoothed. "That is fair."

"I would have told you," Adaar said, compelled to defend herself, "but frankly, I don't hold up very well to your silver tongue. Best not to risk it."

Josephine chuckled, a little sadly. "No, I understand. I just have one request."

"For my sake, please make it a reasonable one."

"Even when you have every right to be angry with me, you are amusing," she said, but pushed on before Adaar could reply. "I would like to explain why I've been so opposed to your plan, to Leliana's plan. Prove to you that I'm not being mulish, or stupid, or naïve, or..."

"I don't think you're any of those things." Adaar picked up another cookie. She'd finished the first one without noticing. She did tend to eat her nerves. "Well, maybe a little stubborn. Usually that's a good quality. But if you'd like to tell me, go ahead."

Josephine dipped her head. "I used to be a bard, you see."

She paused there as if deliberating, and Adaar tried to imagine it. She was a deft negotiator, but Adaar had a hard time picturing her in such a place at court just now, with the pretty ocean-blue shawl held around her shoulders to ward off the chill, her long dark hair woven into a loose braid over her shoulder. Rumpled by sleep, or maybe a lack of it. She belonged among her books and her missives, her pen and her ink. Hard to imagine her hiding daggers in her clothes instead.

She'd had a letter opener in her sash that night. Adaar pushed the thought of it, its inadequacy, as far away as it would go.

"What, like Leliana?" she asked. "With the singing, and the story-telling, and…"

"The spying," Josephine finished. "Yes. I was young, attending university in Val Royeaux. It sounded so...romantic, so exciting. Trysts, secrets, fascinating people. Very different from my responsibilities to my family."

"Ah," Adaar said. "So even you can get tired of paperwork sometimes."

"Especially at that age." Josephine sighed, as if the memory embarrassed her. "So I put on a mask, told myself that my siblings would get along without me, and practiced the Game in as thrilling a way as I could."

"I suppose I can imagine that. Well," she amended, "parts of it, anyway."

Josephine nodded. "Parts of it, yes. The charming conversation, that I was good at. I had some skill with a harp, though my singing has never been as good as Leliana's."

Adaar made a mental note to find a harp at the first opportunity, then remembered herself and crossed it out again immediately. Her plans after Val Royeaux had not changed. She would maintain the distance between them. It was for the best.

The words would ring true someday, she was sure.

"And the other parts?" she said. "How did that end?"

Josephine drew her shawl a little more tightly around herself. "Very poorly. You know that I am not a fighter. I had an aversion to violence, even then. But I convinced myself that I needed to play the part, that I could learn, that I would adjust to it. I practiced."

"You got hurt," Adaar guessed when Josephine hesitated.

"If only." She straightened up as if steeling herself. "During a particular intrigue, another bard was sent to kill my patron. We...fought, if you could call it that. It did not feel very much like the epic duels we sang about. I was terrified. I think that he was, too. We were at the top of a steep flight of stairs. He drew a knife, and I pushed him away from me…you can imagine the result."

Adaar could see the shame on her face. The guilt, even after all these years.

Adaar remembered the first person she had killed, too. The way she'd thrown up on her knees in the dirt after. It took a lot of practice to stop doing that part. Demons were easier. Hell, Red Templars were easier. They weren't really people anymore.

"It was self-defense," she said, trying to be gentle. "He would have killed you."

"But it was such a waste!" Adaar had rarely seen Josephine so animated: the words burst out of her, not loud, mindful of the guards, but sharp. Devastated. Her eyes gleamed, and Adaar fought the impulse to touch her, to comfort her. "And when I took off his mask, I knew him. We'd attended parties together. If I'd stopped to reason, if I'd used my voice instead of scuffling like a common thug…"

It was just another blow to an old wound. Adaar weathered it. She knew Josephine didn't mean it like that, would never be that cruel, but Adaar knew the truth about herself, too. Knew, and accepted it.

Cassandra kept saying that she was the person they'd needed, exactly when they'd needed it. Stood to reason that sometimes the world needed a common thug.

"I will always wonder who he would have turned out to be," Josephine said. "That is why."

Adaar returned to the problem at hand. "These aren't boys on their first run, Josephine. They're part of a guild of assassins—"

"I know that. I know." She shook her head, impatient. "It is not their lives that most concern me, though I do think their deaths would be pointless. For what? For an old grudge so easily forgotten that the surviving descendents would sweep it away for a favor of status?" She scoffed. "They're bound by that old agreement, but no one else feels the same."

There was truth enough in that. Adaar had seen some of Josephine's exchanges with the Du Paraquettes. Hard to imagine that a hundred years ago, these families had been at each others' throats. They were just strangers now.

"What most concerns you, then?" she said.

Josephine looked up at her. Her fingers had pulled one of the cookies apart in her lap; it was a pile of crumbs now. "The lives of our people. Any of them could get hurt, could die, trying to destroy this contract. You could die."

Adaar considered her for a long moment. "You see our impasse, then," she said at last. "You are not willing to send me into mortal danger, and I am not willing to let you stay in the same."

"Yes." There was disappointment, but understanding, in Josephine's eyes. "I do see. And you have honored my request, above and beyond our agreement, so you can do what you see fit with a clear conscience. I won't protest."

Damn her. Even as she released Adaar, she bound her. Adaar wondered if she'd just played the Game for so long that she couldn't stop playing it, that she did it even subconsciously. That she knew, instinctively, that where pleading or begging wouldn't change Adaar's mind, this would.

And Adaar admired Josephine's idealism. Always had. Maybe she was cutthroat when it came to maneuvering alliances, but it was in metaphor only; she did her best to mitigate harm. She advocated for opportunity, for a future, not an ending.

Adaar wanted the world to work that way.

"This is exactly why I haven't talked to you in four days," Adaar muttered. "I knew you would talk me out of it." She took another cookie to console herself and stuffed it whole in her mouth. Maybe the crumbs would choke her, put her out of her misery.

"I mean it," Josephine pressed. "Do what you think—"

"—is best," Adaar finished. "Yeah. Wish I knew for sure what that was." She dusted her hands free of crumbs. "If this minister so much as looks at me funny—which is very likely, given the manners these kinds of people usually have—I'm storming the House of Repose that very hour."

Josephine reached across the space between them to touch her hand. "Thank you."

Adaar only nodded. Hard to do anything else as she looked at those soft fingertips grazing the backs of her knuckles, thinking inevitably of the last time they'd touched.

Josephine withdrew, and Adaar hoped that she would get up and leave; that she had gotten what she wanted, and there would be no need to discuss anything else.

"There is one other matter," Josephine said, her words more hesitant by far now.

Adaar didn't dare look at her face. She listened, waited, for the guillotine to drop.

"You kissed me," Josephine said, and Adaar closed her eyes against it. "After…"

Adaar would never forget it. Never. The relief she'd felt all the way down to her weary bones when she arrived outside Josephine's door to hear voices, to hear her voice, to realize that she was safe, alive—only for that relief to twist, become a terror so stark she'd never felt its like—

"I only…please understand, I don't want to assume that you harbor any tender feelings for me, I just…" Josephine let out a frustrated breath. "Listen to me stutter. I only want to understand what you meant by it."

Adaar opened her mouth before she even knew what she planned to say; she shut it again. Josephine waited, patient, not pushing.

Adaar could lie. Wave it off. Make the same excuses she'd imagined Josephine would make. Things would be awkward, probably. After all this, it was hard to imagine that they'd ever be as close as they had once been.

But Josephine deserved better than that. She'd gone out of her way to apologize, to explain. Now she asked to understand, to be given the same courtesy in return.

It would still be awkward, but maybe they'd get past it, someday. She could hope. It had carried her this far.

"I care about you," she said. She sounded steady enough. "Very much." She paused, cleared her throat. "Thought it was sort of obvious."

Josephine didn't reply. The silence—a few seconds that felt like years—pressed down on Adaar, threatening to crush her. She had to look, had to see…

Josephine stared at her, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. She looked an awful lot like she had after Adaar had kissed her.

Breathlessly, she said, "I thought...I thought it was possible, but…"

"I know. I didn't send an eyebrow poem." She fell back on bad humor like it was some kind of defense, like it wouldn't just make things worse. "Just a bunch of stupid trinkets. Awfully unclear of me. Look, I'm sorry if I made you uncomf—"

She had not known that Josephine could move so quickly; she'd pushed the box of cookies out of the way, thrown herself against Adaar's side, and pulled Adaar's head down to kiss her before Adaar knew what was happening.

She'd tried not to remember. In those moments before the few hours of sleep she'd scraped for herself, she'd tried not to think about how it had felt. Josephine clinging to her, safe and warm and alive; Josephine pressing close to her, matching Adaar's desperation with her own fervor; Josephine's soft, sweet lips yielding beneath hers.

She was just as demanding as she'd been that night. Adaar had never expected, never imagined that—when she'd dared to imagine, anyway. That Josephine had a fire burning inside her to match Adaar's torch, and when their lips met, they knew one another's heat.

Josephine's hands framed Adaar's face, held her in place. Without Adaar's explicit say-so, her arms had wrapped around Josephine. She drank in the blissful noise of delight that came from Josephine's lips, didn't bother to catch the shawl as it fell and fluttered to the cart. Josephine touched her like she was something beloved, and she melted beneath the worship of those fingers, fell to pieces beneath the care of this deepening kiss, sweet with that lingering taste of the polvorones. Another few seconds of those soft lips moving with hers and she'd be tumbling Josephine down into the bed of the cart, and she doubted very much that Josephine would protest—

One of the guards called to another. Despite the heat, despite Josephine's body against hers, she heard it. It was a proprietary remark; there was no danger. But it felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over Adaar's head.

She tugged away, just enough to break the kiss, letting the cold night air come between them. "Wait."

Josephine made an impatient noise, following. "There are no assassins out—"

"It's not that."

Josephine's eyes searched her face. They looked a little glassy with want, with lust, with starlight.

It was a very good look on her, but it wasn't helping Adaar keep her head straight.

"Then what?" she asked. Her thumb ran over Adaar's cheek, once, twice.

She would not get through this if Josephine kept touching her, but she had to tell herself to let go three times before she actually took her arms from around Josephine. Josephine settled back to the cart, waiting, brow knit with confusion.

"This isn't a good idea," Adaar said.

Josephine leaned a little away, clearly stung. "Why not?"

Adaar glanced down the road, toward the nearest guard. Danaya's back was to them, but she wasn't far enough away, not nearly.

"People talk," she said. "As you've told me yourself. Even a short entanglement—"

"Short entanglement?" Josephine repeated, a thread of anger weaving through the hurt. "I am not interested in a fling, as you well—"

"Let me finish. Please."

Maybe something on Adaar's face convinced her; she took a breath and gestured, as if to say go ahead.

"This whole deal is going to restore your family's status," Adaar said. "Right?"

If Josephine found the change in subject strange, she didn't comment on it. "It will take more work than that, but—yes, this is the necessary beginning."

"How do you think that status would dip if everyone knew you were involved with me? What trade opportunities would you lose? Who would exclude your siblings from parties, your parents from plans?"

Josephine didn't answer right away. She thought about it, giving it a moment, turning it over, before she answered. "No one who has not already excluded us," she said. "No opportunities I have not already lost."

"Are you sure of that?"

"No one can ever be absolutely certain of anything," Josephine said evenly. "But I do not care."

"I know that isn't true. You've worked so hard to make this happen. Not just these last few months—years and years of work. What if just…being with me…would reverse all of that?"

Josephine slid off the cart and turned to face Adaar. Silently, Adaar offered out her shawl, and she took it, but let it hang loose from her hand.

"For my family, yes, I have worked," Josephine said. "So that they might get along without me, one day, if the worst were to happen. But I set all my trappings aside to join the Inquisition, knowing that I might well be cast as a heretic with the rest of you." She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, as if this didn't trouble her at all. "It does not appear that this is our trajectory any longer. I've turned a deaf ear to many slights, but there are fewer of them every week."

"You'll have to turn a deaf ear to many more," Adaar said. She had to make Josephine understand. "Supporting me politically is very different from declaring a romantic relationship with a common thug."

Josephine looked at her, silent, inscrutable, and Adaar almost squirmed under the weight of that gaze. It felt like Josephine saw a great deal. Things Adaar didn't want her to see, things she didn't intend to show her.

"You know that I don't see you that way," Josephine said.

"But other people do," Adaar argued. "Other people will—"

"Other people think many silly things," Josephine cut across her.

"Tell me if this is silly, then. When this is all over, if I'm still standing when the dust clears, I will have a very simple life left to me. A little land, a little house. You have connections, responsibilities, that won't fit in the space I have to offer. Would you give all that up to sink to my level?"

Josephine let out a low breath. "I see."

The way she was looking at Adaar, Adaar very much doubted it. "See what?"

"You are afraid that I am going to hurt you."

Adaar spluttered. "That's not what I—"

"You think that when this is over, you will not be special anymore, and I will not want you anymore." Josephine stepped forward, just enough to wrap the shawl around Adaar's shoulders. "You're wrong."

She patted the fabric into place, as if to protect Adaar from the chill. Every touch of her hand weakened a little more of Adaar's resolve.

"I am not going to change my mind," Josephine said. "When you have gotten over your reservations—"

"My reservations? You're the one who should have—"

"I will be here, Herah," Josephine said, relentless. "And I will still want the same thing. Lest you accuse me of manipulating you with my silver tongue, I will leave you to think."

Adaar had lost all language, all ability to protest. Josephine took one more polvorone from the box, but left the rest with a last pointed look at Adaar.

She was not afraid.

...Was she?

Go to Chapter 6 -->

#josephine montilyet #inquisitor adaar #f!adaar x josephine #f!adaar/josephine #dragon age #inquisition #mutual pining #friends to lovers #developing relationship #class differences #universe writes

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awesometheydontknowiamhere · 5 years

Text

Store Bought Hugs

Diego Hargreeves X Plus Sized Female!Reader

Requested: Yes, by the lovely @reblogserpent

“ Idk if your requests are open If you write for Diego Hargreeves could you do a Diego x plus size reader where they are dating and he offers his sweatshirt to her but she doesn’t wanna wear it cause she’s scared you know cause afraid it’ll stretch or afraid it’ll look bad cause he’s so fit but in reality it would fit her fine and she starts to panic trying to like push him away when he’s trying to help idk just some fluff maybe his stutter in it idk. Thank you in advance”

Summary: Diego and his girlfriend go out on a long due date under the night sky when a cold breeze blows their way. Diego offers his sweatshirt like the true gentleman he is but his lady love is adamant and tries her best to not wear it lest it’s too small for her frame. A heartfelt conversation and a words of encouragement follow. Fluffy date night ends in smut with body positivity peppered in.

A/N: I hard for this one and I really hope that you like it. Writing request based fics is new to me but it’s also a healthy exercise for my writing muscles. Looking forward to your feedback.

Body image issues is something I am all too familiar with, so all my lovely girls and boys, we come in all size and shapes because each of us are crafted and not printed from moulds. Stay proud of your mortal shells, but always remember it’s the inside that counts.

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Diego Hargreaves X Plus Size Reader

Word count: 1484

Warning: None, really. Just mentions of insecurity, slight body image issues. Kissing and nothing more. Mentions of smut (very brief)

Taglist: @wh3n-1t-ra1ns-1t-p0urs @imultifandomstuff @w0nder-marie @chloemac86 @theladywholivesonthemoon @hemogobllin @pansexualpaperdragons @gorgeourrific-nerd @purplezebra68 @vividholland @bands-and-shietz @onlydeanandjensen @slither-in-a-half @reblogserpent @missscarlett1802 @lovelyheadrush @mrsdiegohargreeves @mrsdiegohargreeves @katylovescats @vividholland @lilithsweetghost @ynm1505 @siriusjohnpotter @ratfuckb0y @loulouloueh

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You looked around you, soaking up the sight of your stunning boyfriend and the star-studded night sky. You were well-fed, well-loved and incredibly happy in that moment.

"What are you thinking about?"

Diego kissed your knuckles as he waited for your answer.

"Just looking for words to express my gratitude," you said smiling softly at him. He had truly gone above and beyond with the planning an dexecution of your highly anticipated date night. His dark, leathered exterior was in stark contrast to the plaid sheet and the wicker basket which had held an assortment of fruits coated in chocolate, quiche and a decadent chocolate cake.

"Just tell me you're happy and that's all the thanks I could ever want. After not seeing enough of you for nearly month, this is the least I could do. Maybe you could pay me with that body of yours," he said with a wink. You bit your lip and blushed.

"How did you even discover this place?"

"Being a vigilante comes with a few perks. I get to explore every nook and cranny of the city and that's how I stumbled upon this gem," he said motioning his hand towards the trees around you and the cloud-free night sky above you.

"It's breathtaking, but not as breathtaking as you," you said with a smile.

A quick blush crept up his cheecks. "Oh, th-thanks, Y/N. Tha-that's sweet of you," he stammered.

Compliments sometimes caught him off-guard and you loved that yu could see the effect of your words so directly on him.

You leaned into him to kiss him and he met you halfway, burrowing his hands in your hair. Your palms rested against his firm chest as his tongue snaked into your mouth. A cold breeze caressed your skin and you mentally kicked yourself for wearing a flimsy sundress. It had seemed like a wise choice in the evening, the idea of a picnic in the moonlight with your dress flowing softly around your thighs.

"Baby, are you cold?"

Diego rubbed his warm palms over your exposed arms and you basked in his heat before sitting up straight. You shook your head side to side to indicate no. Another wave of cold air hit you and your skin broke out in goosebumps.

Diego raised his eyebrow at that, an all-knowing grin playing at his lips.

"Let me get something for you," he said as he dove into the duffel bag containing all the picnic supplies.

To your utter dismay, he fished out his midnight blue sweatshirt. You controlled your face to not give away your worries, but that was proving harder than you had anticipated. You simply could not ignore your body and how it would either mess up his sweatshirt or worse, not fit at all.

You were larger than most girls depicted in media and you had made peace with it. Your curves defined you, your softness an added charm to your personality. Sadly, on some occasions the cruel voice of societal beauty standards crept into your mind, filling you with doubt and a sliver of shame. It was the same voice which forbade from wearing swimsuits during pool parties in college, that told you to wear dark colours because they have a slimming effect and stopped you from ordering anything that wasn't a salad. It was currently telling you that there was no way in hell you were going to fit into Diego's sweatshirt.

Diego scooted over to you, laying the garment on your lap.

"Umm, thanks but it's okay Diego, I am not cold anymore," you said through imperceptibly gritted teeth.

"Come on babe, you know I am not letting my angel freeze in the cold night air," he said sticking to his guns.

You looked up at the sky and begged the universe to keep you tears-free.

"I am fine, I don't need your sweatshirt," you said trying to be a little rough with him so that he would quit it.

It would have worked, it really would had you not subconcioulsy wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Y/N, angel, I know for a fact that you're cold right now. Why won't you take this?" He sounded genuinely upset and curious, but there was no possible way for you to explain your apprehension without him thinking you were an insecure mess.

You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes.

"I don't think it will fit," you said in a low voice. He was silent and you wondered if he hadn't heard you. You weren't going to repeat yourself, that was for sure.

He lifted you chin up and fixed his eyes on your face.

“Is that what this is about? You’re sitting here, shivering, and freezing your butt off because you think you might not fit into my clothes?”

You winced as you heard him say it out loud, your insecurity laid bare in front of you. You started backing away from him, removing his hand from your face.

“Baby, I am not done here,” he said, firmly planting his knee on the edge of your dress.

“Let it go, Diego. It’s not going to fit, I know my body. It’s not the first time and it’s definitely not the last,” you said, accepting defeat.

He held your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You’re being silly, angel. I know your body too and I promise it will fit. I am going to turn around and you’re going to put this on. If you want to keep it on or take it of regardless of it fits or not is up to you. Just please, try it,” he said, almost begging.

With that he turned around, facing the trees. You understood his desperate attempt to build your confidence and you just wanted to make him smile.

You glanced at the garment lying beside you. A lifetime passed and you picked it up. Your heart was pounding, fighting for dominance against the voices in your head. You quelled them both and slipped it over your head. You were shocked as it flowed smoothly over your curves not finding resistance anywhere.

It smelled of Diego, a heavenly cocktail of all things manly and intense. It felt warm and soft over your prickled skin, almost like a store-bought hug from him.

“Diego,” you called out to him, a quiver in your voice.

He turned and looked at you, his eyes lighting up with a smile. His hands went up to your neck and pulled out your hair from inside the neckline. He placed a quick kiss on your lips and leaned back to admire you.

“Thank you,” you said, thanking for both, the garment and the borrowed confidence.

“Thank you for trusting me, angel,” he said, toying with a chunk of your hair.

“Can I ask you something? You can tell to piss of if you don’t want to answer.”

You nodded with a smile.

“What happened to you just now? I have never seen you like this. Where did all the doubt come from, angel?”

I don’t know, I just realized I wasn’t as tiny or as petite as most girls, so I thought I didn’t want to ruin or stretch out your clothes,” you said, not quite meeting is eyes.

“Okay, first of all, not everybody is built the same. And where you’re using the term not tiny, I prefer words lush, addictive, inviting and sinfully sensual. Where would I be with your soft cuddles and warm heat to come home to?”

You felt a smile tugging at your lips and you moved with him to lie down on your backs, looking up at the sky.

“Let me hit you with facts now. I easily tower over you and my shoulders are any day broader than yours. Simple math, angle,” he said, tapping you on the nose.

“I am sorry I dampened the mood,” you whispered, a wave of guilt passing over you.

“You couldn’t do that even if you tried. Don’t you know, you’re too adorable for that?” he said turning to face you.

His thumb brushed your cheek as both of looked at each other. You bit your lip and he whispered, “Have I told you how incredible you look in my clothes?”

He rose up on his elbows and kissed your pulse point on the neck. “The things I want to do to you, knowing that you’re wearing my clothes. It’s almost like you’re declaring yourself mine all over again.”

His tongue continued to explore your neck as he hooked your legs at his waist. Your breath hitched and you let out a whimper as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. His hands went to your full hips, stroking your curve over the soft fabric.

As he bunched up the fabric over your hips, you realized maybe wearing a dress wasn’t such a bad idea.

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rosegrl18 · 4 years

Text

Day Twenty-Four - Startling Clarity

@fatethreads, @iris-14cheonsa, @zarahjoyce, @quatresnuku, @princess-sas, @nopedontknow

Day Twenty-Four: Startling Clarity

Fandom: Mashin Sentai Kiramager

Characters: Juru Atsuta, Tametomo Imizu, Sena Hayami, Shiguru Oshikiri, Sayo Oharu, Muryo Hakataminami, Mabushina, Yodonheim

Pairings: Sena Hayami x Tametomo Imizu

How the five of them ended up in this situation, no one knew. It seemed as though they’d fallen asleep and when they woke up, they were in a strange place no one recognized. Juru was the first to attempt a call back to Kiramai Base on his Kiramai Changer, but the call didn’t go through. The call didn’t even connect. The five Kiramagers noticed they were standing in front of podiums, or podium-like objects, and each of their ankles were bound with chains.

“Welcome to my lovely game show, folks! I’m your host, Television Jamen! The way my show works is this! There will be three rounds of questions, with five questions in each round. Each round represents a difficulty level, easy, medium, and hard. Each question belongs to its own category, so five questions per round, five categories per round. Each category may only be played once and if you get the question wrong, there’s a penalty! You may notice those lovely chains attached to your ankles. Let’s just say you don’t want to get a question wrong. Are you ready to play, Kiramagers!”

“We don’t exactly have a choice.” Juru didn’t want to play Television Jamen’s demented game, but they didn’t have much of a choice. If they wanted to defeat Television Jamen and get out of this strange place, they had to play the game and win.

“Alright, let’s get started with the easy round! Your categories for this round are: Artists and Art, Video Games, Sports, Acting, and Medicine! Kiramai Red, you get to choose first.”

“Artists and Art.”

“Your question is this: What is the design on the front of your sketchbook? A: A red diamond, B: A white diamond, C: No diamond, or D: Nothing at all.”

“The answer is A! It’s a red diamond!”

“Is he correct?”

A picture popped up on Television Jamen’s screen and showed Juru’s sketchbook. Sure enough, the cover was clear. There was a red diamond with the word “Sketch Book” on the front.

“He is correct! Next question! Kiramai Yellow, category please.”

“Video Games, of course.”

“Here’s your question. What game were you playing with your grandfather on that most unfortunate night of your life? A: Tekken, B: Tekken 5, C: Tekken 6, or D: Tekken 2.”

Tametomo gnashed his teeth in anger. No one else knew about that incident, no one except for Sena. How did Television Jamen find out?

“C. Tekken 6.”

“Is he right?”

Of course, he was right. He remembered that day fondly. A picture popped up on Television Jamen’s screen and replayed the scene of Tametomo and his late grandfather playing video games. Sena leaned over as best as she could and laid a gentle hand on Tametomo’s bicep.

“He’s right! Next question. Kiramai Green, your selection.”

“Sports.”

“Here’s your question. Who sponsors your track and field team? A: Adidas, B: Nike, C: CARAT, or D: SCRTC.”

“D. SCRTC.”

“Is she right?” A picture popped up, showing Sena in her track and field uniform, SCRTC emblazoned brazenly across the top of her athletic top.

“She’s correct!”

The round went on, with both Shiguru and Sayo answering their questions correctly, earning the Kiramagers a perfect first round. Now things would only get more difficult in the second round. It wasn’t long before Television Jamen began the second round. About two questions in, no one wanted to play the Jamenshi’s game anymore. Juru had taken too long to think about his answer and received the penalty that was mentioned at the start, an electric shock. Thankfully, the Kiramagers were transformed, so the suit bore some of the damage. However, the boy was still affected. By now, everyone wanted to end Television Jamen. When it was Sena’s turn, she got her answer wrong, giving her an electric shock and making Tametomo’s stress and anger levels climb. Shiguru and Sayo managed to get their answers right, though Shiguru had nearly ran out of time. That left the third round and none of the Kiramagers were sure they could pull off a win. Television Jamen gave everyone a five-minute break before Round Three began.

“These are the toughest questions of all. I don’t know how many more shocks our bodies can take, but we can only assume the voltage is upped before each round. If that’s true, that means the shocks will be stronger for the last round than they were before. Our suits can only take so much, so we need to get these questions right. Let’s go, everyone!”

“Well said, Juru. Let’s beat this guy at his own game.”

At the end of five minutes, Round Three began.

“Alright, Round Three! The categories are Gemstones, Vehicles, Romance, Martial Arts, and Swordsmanship. Are you ready?”

There was no answer.

“Fine, I’ll take that as a yes. Kiramai Red, your category?”

“Gemstones.”

“Here is your question. Princess Mabushina came to Earth with “these” in tow. To what am I referring? Oh, and this round isn’t multiple choice, so answer wisely.”

“Kiramai Stones.”

“Is he right?” A picture popped up on the screen of Mabushina taking the five Kiramai Stones and fleeing to Earth, landing inside the mysterious white crystal.

“Correct. Kiramai Yellow, you’re next. Please pick your category.”

“Vehicles.”

“Here’s your question. When your Kiramai Stone’s vehicle form was chosen, why didn’t it match the theme Kiramai Red had already established?”

“When Juru chose Shove-jii’s form, he didn’t know what vehicle would best suit my personality, so he chose the form based off the color, resulting in an excavator shovel. Yellow is associated with construction vehicles, as are excavator shovels, so that’s why Shove-jii is the way he is. If you have a problem with that, we’ll be more than happy to fix that for you.” Tametomo had a smug smirk on underneath his helmet, though it was short lived when Television Jamen sent a powerful electric shock through his body.

“Is he correct?” A picture popped up of when Juru told everyone about their respective Mashin. The scene proved that Tametomo’s answer was correct.

“Correct.”

“So why did he get shocked?” Sena was surprised.

“He pissed me off. Kiramai Green, category please.”

“Romance.” She didn’t know much about the genre, but she had to try her best, as she didn’t know much about martial arts and swordsmanship either.

“Here’s your question. Kiramai Yellow seems to have a soft spot for one of his female teammates. Is it you or Kiramai Pink?”

Sena had to think about that question for a few minutes. Yes, Tametomo had confided in her about his grandfather. Yes, he’d invited her to his gaming match, but he’d also invited Juru too. Although, he only invited her back for the second round. What did that mean? Did that mean that he had a soft spot for her? Too bad she took too long to think. Time had run out while she thought of all the times it was possible that Tametomo seemed to have a soft spot for her. The powerful electric shock coursed through her body and would’ve put her on her knees if not for the ankle chains holding her up.

“Sena!” He couldn’t let this go on any longer. “This game is over, Television Jamen, and you’ve lost.”

He shot off his ankle chains and jumped over his podium, slowly approaching Television Jamen.

“I’ve had enough of watching you torture my friends. I don’t care if you torture me, but I won’t let you torture them. I’m not going to let you torture her like that. There’s only one Sena and I’m not going to let you even touch her.”

“I think that answers that question. It’s Kiramai Green you clearly have a soft spot for. It really is too bad that she took way too long to answer that. And, it’s even worse for you when I don’t even have to touch her to hurt her.” He held up the switch he was using to control the electricity flow. In an instant, Tametomo shot it out of his hands, destroying it.

“Don’t. Even. Touch. Her.”

Tametomo pulled the lever on his Kiramai Shot twice, fully charging it up.

“Kiramai Charge!”

“Goodbye, Television Jamen.” He took the shot.

After the Jamenshi was defeated, everything melted away and they were left in a familiar room. Tametomo was fuming. If they were in the training room, then Muryo was behind this whole incident in the first place. It was his fault Sena had been hurt, his fault Television Jamen even existed in the first place, his fault Sena even knew his true feelings. When Muryo came into the room to congratulate them on a job well done, Tametomo let loose.

“What the hell was that?”

“That was a training exercise, Tame-kun. You did well, as always. Your shooting is spot on!”

“That’s not what I meant. What the hell was with the game show, the electricity penalty, the damn question about my feelings for Sena?!” He heard a gasp, but he ignored it for the time being. He was too angry right now.

“Oh, that. Well, I see the way you look at her when you two argue. I just thought you two could use a little push. I think this experience provided the clarity for Sena, but for you, it just made you angry.”

“Yes, it did!”

“Why does it make you angry that I’m calling you out on your feelings for Sena?”

“Because I didn’t want everyone else to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some fresh air.” With that, he stormed out.

Sena made to follow him out, but was stopped by Muryo.

“He needs some time to himself, Sena. I’m sorry I went about providing clarity for you two this way. I didn’t think it would end like this.”

“That’s one way to put it. This experience definitely provided clarity. I had no idea he felt that way. All we do is argue, but when he held me inside of Cloud Hildon, I felt safe. I felt that as long as he was holding me up, I was going to be alright. He reminds me of a cactus. Prickly on the outside, but soft on the inside. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some fresh air. I think we all need some after that training session, right?”

Ever the medical professional, “Yes, we should get some water and take some time to relax our bodies, especially Juru and Sena who both experienced the electrical pulses. We now know they were virtual, but they still seemed plenty real. Juru, if you feel that you need it, don’t hesitate to come by the infirmary and I’ll check you over.”

“Thank you, Sayo-san, but I’m alright. I just need some water and some time to draw.”

Meanwhile, outside, Tametomo was sitting on a bench, collecting himself. He was lost in his thoughts when he heard her.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“What do you mean? What did I say?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question, or two. What you said in training, did you mean it?”

“You mean when I said, “I don’t care if you torture me like that, but I won’t let you torture her like that”? Yeah, I meant every word of that. I thought Television Jamen was torturing you with his electricity. I couldn’t listen to him make you scream like that anymore. I can’t believe Muryo would do something like this to make us realize what’s right in front of us.”

“Well, neither of us saw it at first, Tame-kun. He thought we needed a little push. He wanted us to see the clarity of the situation sooner rather than later. Don’t be angry with him for that. I mean, yes, I was shocked, a lot shocked, when I realized you were in love with me, and I was shocked when I realized that I was in love with you back. Now, it’s your turn to be shocked by the knowledge that I am, indeed, in love with you.”

“Don’t use the word “shocked”, please?”

“Fine, I was surprised, startled, dazed, stunned, when I realized you were in love with me. I was even more surprised, startled, dazed, stunned when I realized I was in love with you back. Now, it’s your turn to be surprised, startled, dazed, stunned by the knowledge that I am, indeed, in love with you.”

“Did you really need to repeat what you just said? With extra words that made you sound like you read a thesaurus?”

“You told me not to use the word “shocked”, so I used synonyms.”

“Sena Hayami, you are the biggest dork I’ve ever met.”

“No, Tame-kun, you are the biggest dork. But I love you despite your dorkiness.”

“Do you think it’d be alright if I kissed you right now? I really want to kiss you right now. I want to make sure you’re real and not part of some holographic simulation.”

“Of course, you can kiss me, and of course, I’m real, Tame-kun!”

“Good, because that means I’m going to kiss you right now.”

“Just kiss me, Tame-kun, instead of telling me you’re going to k—" She was cut off. He’d gotten up off the bench, grabbed her smaller, daintier hands in his larger, rougher ones, and softly, nervously, hesitantly pressed his lips against hers. It wasn’t even much of a press, it was more of a soft brush of lips, but neither one of them cared. He was just overjoyed she was alright and safe in his arms. He couldn’t believe all it took was one training simulation to provide one moment of startling clarity and kickstart what was to become, hopefully, one of the most meaningful relationships of his life.

#mashin sentai kiramager #kiramager #cantellus/fatethreads #cantellus/fatethreads april prompt list

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nightcoremoon · 5 years

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ok so let's talk twilight. girl meets vampire. girl falls in love with vampire. vampire falls in love with girl. girl and vampire start dating. evil vampire wants to eat girl. vampire kills evil vampire.

new moon. vampire leaves girl. girl gets depressed. girl rebounds with werewolf. werewolf wants to fuck girl. werewolf realizes he's the rebound. werewolf leaves girl. girl seemingly attempts suicide. vampire learns about this and attempts suicide. girl goes to tell him she's not dead. vampire king gives a warning.

eclipse. vampire and girl are back together. evil vampire girlfriend wants revenge. evil vampire girlfriend makes evil vampire army. vampires and werewolves kill evil vampire and army. vampire king gives another warning. vampire marries girl.

breaking dawn. vampire and girl get married. and fuck. girl gets pregnant. baby will kill girl. but abortion is ~evil~. girl dies and gets turned into vampire. werewolf wants to fuck the baby vampire. vampire king shows up to kill the baby. it was a big misunderstanding lol. happily ever after except for the people who died.

that's the gist of things for anyone who doesn't remember.

ok so there's two groups of people. team edward, people who are satisfied with the canon. team jacob, people who say "fuck that, girl should be with werewolf instead". and many people on team jacob proceed to say that team edward all condone pedophilia and stalking and other terrible things. fandom wars happened. and in the end, most people moved on.

...

but not me.

now, I wasn't an obsessed super fan. I thought the first book was boring as shit until the second half. it took me a month to read the first half and three days to read the second half. I read the entire second in literally one day. the entire third in like 3 days. and the entire fourth in like 5. I watched all the movies in theaters. but none of this was by choice. my mom and my several sisters basically made me, but it was okay I guess. personally my fandom progression started with final fantasy 12. it moved into eragon, death note, jak and daxter, avatar the last airbender, invader zim, tales of symphonia, a dash of harry potter, sly cooper, my little pony friendship is magic, dead space, red vs blue, twokinds, resident evil, etc. I'm not in the twilight fandom by choice, but I know all the lore and trivia so fuck it. I might as well be.

I'm team edward.

I know what you're thinking. "but he's 100 years old trying to fuck a teenager! he watched her sleep! he almost killed her drinking her blood! he made her suicidal and depressed! he was super jealous and possessive whenever jacob was around! he broke her bones when they had sex! he impregated her with a monster baby that killed her! HE IS TEH EVILEST EVAR!!1"

let's take this one piece at a time.

1- he didn't try to fuck her. she tried to fuck him. but he said not until she's a full grown adult capable of making her own decisions, and not until marriage ~because premarital sex is wrong~

2- yeah watching her sleep was a little creepy but we can attribute that to stephenie meyer thought it was romantic because she's a dumb white mormon cultist

3- he is a VAMPIRE, and not by choice. and it was either suck the poison out of bella or let her become a vampire. which he didn't want to happen because ~being a vampire sucks 🥁~ so yeah he saved her life. and he managed to not drain her dry and kill her even though her blood is so goddamn delicious because she's a fucking mary sue

4- he didn't make her suicidal and depressed by leaving the country so she didn't get in any life threatening situations like being around jasper who has the self control of a fat kid in a twinkie factory. bella just took the breakup really really badly, and if someone reacts badly to a breakup, it's on THEM, not the other person. saying any differently is, what's the word, toxic and clingy. her emotional instability for plot is just indicative of the author's inherent misogyny (which makes sense, as dumbass mormon cultists are rife with the stuff)

5- he was not jealous and possessive. JACOB was the one who was toxic, since "that cold one will TAKE MY BELLA AWAY FROM ME". jacob wanted bella for himself because he had a crush on her since they were kids, and it was a super unhealthy obsession. edward could read his thoughts and was pissed; consider his backstory in hearing potential rapists' thoughts and killing them. but edward couldn't kill jacob because he was bella's friend. nothing more, though, and jacob fumed in his nice guy fedora

6- again, edward is a VAMPIRE, and a horny bastard at that, because he is a gentleman and therefore probably was a virgin too. he even told bella countless times that it would happen but bella thought it was #WORTH to get some of that hot vampire dick. I guess she's into some super kinky shit. no wonder 50 shades of grey made sense as a twilight fanfiction. anyway, bella seems to have fully consented, otherwise she's the world's most unreliable narrator.

7- the monster baby plot arc was propaganda against female bodily autonomy because "teh babby haz a SOUL and abortion is MURDER even tho she'll LITERALLY DIE otherwise but hey backwoods redneck mormon values are more important than the lives of women, right? anyway, ironically enough, he respected her bodily autonomy by not fixing the mistake he didn't think could happen (uterus vampires can't get pregnant but dick vampires can get other people pregnant? NANI, THE FUCK???) because bella didn't consent to him killing the fetus that was literally breaking her bones from inside since ~abortion is wrooOOoong~

and now, counterpoint.

...and counter-counterpoint.

"edward groomed bella" edward's main focus when she was 16 was to not kill her and drink the delicious cherry fanta, and his main focus at 17 was to make sure she didn't die and that nobody else killed her and drank her delicious cherry fanta, and only when she was a full ass adult was he like "alright fine you wanna marry me sooooo bad here's ur fuckin diamond ring". yeah they made out but like, consider that a FUCKING MORMON WROTE THIS BOOK. one can't fault a character for the dumbassery of the author. that's why in this house we stan james potter. and besides, a few years ago whilst playing truth or dare I at 21 was dared to kiss a 17 year old and I did- granted I didn't know he was 17 at the time but that doesn't even matter because granted edward was a lot older than 21, but granted that doesn't even matter anyways because you know how many teenage girls would make out with oscar wilde, keanu reeves, chris evans, or danny devito jason momoa if they had the chance? I know I would have. it isn't necessarily sexual unless you want it to be. besides, the argument could be made that brain development stops when you become a vampire, considering their body stops developing too. technically edward had the brain and body of a 17 year old, he was just 17 for a long time. so any way you slice it, there are acceptable explanations justifying this in the magic fantasy land of what-ifs and JUST BAD WRITING.

we good?

now let's tackle jacob.

he demanded she "choose" him over edward. he was just as childish and petty as mike. oh, poor mike. he was just too dumb. SWM be like. anyway, he literally abandoned her, his friend, because she wouldn't fuck him, when she needed her best friend the most. because that's who jacob was to her. he was her best friend. she kinda ignored him because edward is smexy and it overpowered her tiny teenage girl brain, or at least that's the author's excuse (yay for internalized misogyny). when they were in the mountains and he was keeping her from dying of hypothermia edward literally had to ask him to stop thinking about fucking her. while she was unconscious. which is kinda rapey. and then to top it all off, he wanted to fuck her baby daughter. so jacob is literally every single thing people called edward. he is jealous, possessive, creepy, obsessed with bella, and a whole bunch of other stereotypes associated with brown skinned man wanting to fuck white skinned women.

...

oh dear god.

wow I can't believe that the white woman who took an existing native american tribe and rewrote their culture to fit her vampire love story for white girls to have a sexy ~exotic~ savage feral werewolf boy in the love triangle turned out to be a racist all along.

so ideally, jacob would be the ideal partner for bella. lore-wise as well. bella and jacob grow old together in their plain regular normal human lives (and hopefully bella's face doesn't get clawed off like sam and leah BIG OOF FOR THE DOMESTIC VIOLENCE), edward and tanya get married like they were supposed to do all along and gallivant off and do vampire things, all that jazz. edward isn't creepy and weird, bella isn't a magic mary sue with a magic fucking jean grey mind shield, jacob isnt an asshole.

but after reading the books and the evidence provided, I cannot in good conscience be team jacob over team edward.

thank you for your time.

fuck stephenie meyer.

and fuck all the dudebros who dog on girls for liking twilight anyways, as if dudebros don't watch and consume shitty media all the time.

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gimmesumsuga · 5 years

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50 Questions Tag

tagged by the illustrious @cinnaminsvga (thankoo Zee, Ily)

This could get longwinded, so it’s going under the cut...

1. What takes up too much of your time?

Admin related stuff at work. Chasing up appointments, making endless phone calls...

2. What makes your day better?

Lots of different things! An unexpected compliment, coming home to find my fella has bought us something extra special nice for dinner, getting snuggly and warm on the sofa watching one of my fave tv shows (I’m addicted to Luther, atm)

3. What’s the best thing to happen to you today?

I’d been given a work-related task to do that had the potential to be horrendously long-winded and time-consuming, but it turned out to be not nearly as bad as I’d thought it would!

4. What fictional place would you like to go to?

Middle earth, most definitely. I’d love to spend some time with the Hobbits!

5. Are you good at giving advice?

Uhhhmm... I suppose it depends on what kind of advice people are looking for. I’ll usually always try to give practical solutions to problems, and then find it difficult when there isn’t one I can give. I also worry so much that I might be giving bad advice that sometimes I’m afraid to say much at all.

6. Do you have a mental illness?

Luckily, I’ve always been blessed with fairly good mental health. I’m so thankful for that.

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis?

Nope, and I have absolutely no desire to.

8. What musician inspired you the most?

It’s going to have to be BTS. I’ve never written for any other fandom as much as I have for this one.

9. Have you ever fallen in love?

I have, many a time. I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic tbh.

10. What’s your dream date?

I’m pretty traditional and boring like this, really! I guess it depends on what number date it is, too. I’m someone that embarrasses easily so I’d hate to be taken on something totally out of my comfort zone before I know that person really well.

Just going out to a movie and then getting something tasty to eat afterwards is good enough for me. Or maybe dinner and then drinks at a bar? Something where we’ve actually got time to talk to each other properly.

11. What do others notice about you?

Uhmm... apparently I have a nice smile!

12. What’s an annoying habit you have?

I don’t know quite how to describe this but I have a tendency to... ask questions as a way of hinting at things lol I remember one of my friends doing my nails once and I was like ‘oh... were you going to do ‘x/y/z’ too?’ and she was just like, Steph, if you want it doing just SAY that’s what you want, don’t just dance around it.

I guess that’s pretty annoying lol I’m sure there are other things, too.

13. Do you still talk to your first love?

HA. Noooooooooooooooo....

14. How many exes do you have?

Oh dear. Uh. This might take a while.

*much counting on fingers later*

Like... 10?

15. How many songs are on your playlist?

I don’t really have a playlist, to be honest. I use spotify and just put that shit on shuffle.

16. What instruments can you play?

In school, I played both the cello and the flute, but I doubt I’d be any good at them now. I can also play one song on the piano really well, but just that one song lol

17. What do you have the most pictures of?

It’s gotta be either BTS or my doggo, Shiro

18. Where would you like to go before you die?

The Grand Canyon.

19. What’s your zodiac?

Taurus!

20. Do you relate to it?

Lord, yes, and I think it shows in some of the answers I’ve given up above (like what makes me happy and what my dream date would be)

21. What is happiness to you?

A hug from someone I love, a comfortable blanket, and a full stomach.

22. Are you going through anything right now?

A bit of writer’s block, I suppose. Procrastinating doing this probably isn’t helping lol

23. What’s the worst decision you ever made?

I can think of a couple of exes that spring to mind haha

24. What’s your favourite store?

Hm. If we’re talking designer, I love All Saints. Oooohhh, I LOVE Paperchase though, too. I could spend a fortune in there.

25. What’s your opinion on abortion?

I pro-choice, but I have to admit it starts to get my back up a little bit when people use it as a form of contraception rather than a last resort.

26. Do you keep a bucket list?

Can’t say I do, nope.

27. Do you have a favourite album?

I really do love Love Yourself: Answer. It has so many great tracks

28. What do you want for your birthday?

Seeing as it’s coming up next Tuesday, I’ve been asked this quite a lot just lately lol the only thing I can think of is a Fitbit, really. I’ve been working out quite a lot lately and I’d be interested to know what it’s looking like calorie-wise.

29. What are most people’s first impressions of you?

I have no idea! I hope they’re positive. I think most of the people I come across professionally tend to think I’m a lot younger than I actually am when they first meet me.

30. What age do you seem according to most people?

Ha, I didn’t even see this question before writing that last answer! Um, most people put me at around 23-25 when I ask them. Hopefully, it stays that way!

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping?

Under my pillow. I know, I know, it’s a bad idea.

32. What word do you say the most?

I really don’t know. There’s nothing that sticks out particularly.

33. What’s the oldest age you would date?

Hm. I’d probably date a 40-year-old but no older than that. I think it’s all well and good at the age I am now, but a ten year age gap might really start making a difference as time goes on.

34. What’s the youngest age you would date?

I think 20 is my maximum, and even that seems a big gap this way around. Plus it really depends on the maturity of that person.

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you?

No-one’s really made that kind of observation in a very long time, to be honest. I know my manager is currently trying to get me ready and primed to take over when she retires, though lol

36. What’s your favourite music genre?

I like all sorts, really. I guess I’m a pop-rock girl at heart.

37. If you could live in any country in the world, where would it be?

Despite the rain, I quite like the UK! Although Australia would be a nice option if I could take all my family with me.

38. What is your current favourite song?

It’s gotta be Make it Right. Man, I can’t get it out of my head.

39. How long have you had this blog for?

I believe it’ll be 2 years in July!

40. What are you excited for?

My bachelorette party this weekeeeeeend!! And my wedding, of course haha

41. Are you a better talker or listener?

Either! I give as good as I get

42. What is the last productive thing you did?

Finished that work thingy today

43. What do you want for Christmas?

My mum’s Christmas dinner. Her roast potatoes are fucking amazing.

44. What class did you get the best grade in?

English Literature and RE (religious education). I got an A* in both subjects, and a First in my degree.

45. On a scale of one to ten, how are you feeling right now?

Eh, I’d go for a 7. I’m alright!

46. What can you see yourself doing in ten years?

Complaining to my husband about what a fucking mess the house is because of our two kids, most likely.

47. When did you get your first heartbreak?

When I broke up with my first ever boyfriend, I guess

48. What age do you want to get married?

Well, I mean it’s happening next month sooooo 30! lol

49. What career did you want to have as a child?

I think I wanted to be a vet for a while. I also wanted to be a traffic warden. It STILL pisses me off when people park in parking spaces that they shouldn’t.

50. What do you crave right now?

The dinner I can smell my brother-in-law cooking. I’m hungry, damn it.

Wooooooow that was long!

Imma tag @readyplayerhobi @johobi @hoseokiehopie @underthejoon @kpopfanfictrash @floralseokjin and anyone else who’d like to do it!

#tag games #I should really stop procrastinating now

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margridarnauds · 5 years

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003 | for peyrol please! (if someone asked already, then olympe)

Surprisingly enough, no one asked about The Boy.

How I feel about this character: Baby bird boy. Baby. Homicidal.

Real talk: I wish I could put it into words more precisely, but he really is the single character I’m most attached to, I’ve spent a lot of time working with him, I’ve probably poured more of myself into his backstory and quirks than into any other 1789 character, he has a lot of potential for complexities and comparing and contrasting the different productions and what they did with him only serves to heighten that potential. There comes a point where you’ve worked with a character long enough and through enough that really you don’t HAVE the words for how you feel about them because they’re THERE, and Laz is definitely at that level with me.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Ronan, Artois (for a certain definition of the term “ship”), Ramard (don’t ask me how I got here, but it’s...surprisingly...cute. I’ll never actually CREATE anything for it but like. It could be cute, since Ramard is at a much earlier stage of his corruption than Laz is and can in theory be pulled out easier provided he doesn’t get shanked.) And I still have a certain soft spot for Olympe/Lazare from the French take on it, though tbh I still tend to add in Ronan as an OT3 option. I’m sorry, the annoying shit of a peasant’s here to stay for me.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: One of the things that’s really interesting to me about Laz is that, unlike so many other characters, he doesn’t really.....EXIST outside of the context of his job. He doesn’t have any personal relationships that we see.

I am really, really interested in Solène and Lazare’s relationship, because I feel like they actually have a bit more in common than either one of them’s willing to admit personality-wise, having very pragmatic, cynical personalities that contrast staunchly against Ronan’s (and, to a lesser extent that’s probably slightly more pronounced in the French version, Olympe’s) idealism. They have the same background that Ronan and Laz do, as far as Solène ALSO being there when he shot their father...but we really don’t get all that much on how SHE takes it. There’s this huge black hole when it comes to Solène and how she dealt with everything and how she really...PERCEIVES Peyrol. I think the Toho really implied that she has a lot of fear and trauma as far as guns going off (though tbh ANYONE would be scared in that kind of situation), she obviously is in terror when she sees Laz pop up, even BEFORE she realizes that Ronan’s gone down and she’s clinging to Olympe, but....there’s still not much THERE.

In Pour la Peine, the answer that I came up with is “Basically this shadowy, inhuman figure that she can’t take her revenge out on because unlike Ronan she wants to LIVE,” but...there’s so little there. Some of the lines of the French (”You play the soldier”) could work easily for both Ronan AND Lazare, which would be a really interesting counterpoint to Nous ne Sommes, which of course comes later. I know, canon forgetting about Solène Mazurier’s trauma? Who would have thought?

And, of course, on a fanfic level, I’m always here for Sister-in-Law Solène who honestly has no idea WHAT to think of Ronan’s new boyfriend but...well...he makes her brother happy and he’s not the ABSOLUTE worst choice.

My unpopular opinion about this character: I don’t really think that I....have any unpopular opinions for him? The fandom’s so small that I think when we all talk it just...kind of merges together at some point. Like, I’m going through all my Major Laz Thoughts and I’m coming up blank on anything that’s TOO wildly away from the popular interpretation.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: On one hand, I would love a consensual Peyronan kiss after Maniaque where they both realize that they’re undeniably attracted to one another and then embark on an epic, forbidden romance that climaxes with them leaving France together and living in a German castle as an Old Married Couple™ with Olympe, Solène, and the dozens of animals that Ronan drags home for them to keep while the rest of the world goes down in flames (though in a few years, Artois’ going to be in Koblenz so...Awkward Reunion Time), but BARRING THAT, I’ll take an added scene of Laz finding out that Ronan escaped during the Maniaque reprise and losing his shit on the ones responsible. Because Laz being frustrated/worried/pissed is a strangely favorite combo of mine.

Favorite friendship for this character: Does Laz have....any friends? Uh, in canon, the one guard who nods his head enthusiastically when Laz gives The Infamous Line about “Open your mouth and I will give you release.” He ships it. Outside of canon, I will forever Brotp Olympe/Laz. They have a LOT they could bond over.

My crossover ship: I don’t want to say it’s a SHIP per se because I don’t REALLY crossover ship that often and I’m more interested in just seeing the DYNAMIC at all regardless of romance, but I would be very, very interested in his relationship with the Duc d’Orléans in Marie Antoinette das Musical. (And the Duc d’Orléans...in general.) Because yes, I’m still On My Bullshit. It would be a complete trash fire, but...well...there are three things that Laz seems to love: The Royal Family, revolutionaries, and people with only one brain cell. Orléans is both of the former AND, while he does have a brain cell...he also gives lets Margrid take The Very Incriminating Receipts on him because he’s so over-confident. That, and Orléans was once bros with Artois, so there’s a common link. And on at least one occasion he and Artois shared a lover in Rosalie Duthe so like...obviously Orléans wouldn’t have any problems with it.

#1789 les amants de la bastille #Lazare de Peyrol #favorite bird goblin #mooncastle

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sage-nebula · 5 years

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Fire Emblem: Three Houses - Thoughts so Far

So I’ve just hit the timeskip in my Golden Deer playthrough (which is my second playthrough overall, my first being a Black Eagle Strike Force playthrough), and so I thought I’d post some thoughts, especially since I’m feeling kind of disgruntled at the moment and feeling disgruntled seems to be the best way to get me to lay thoughts to paper nowadays. This is going under a cut, both because of spoilers, and because it’s going to be long.

I can’t remember if I made a long post when I finished my initial playthrough or not, and I haven’t been using a very concrete tag for posts about it regardless (gone are the days when I’d liveblog every little thing, I guess, particularly since I got so absorbed into this game so quickly---I’ve put 85+ hours into it already, and it’s only been a little over two weeks!), so it wouldn’t be that easy for me to check. But needless to say, I’ve fallen head over heels for this game, and I absolutely loved my initial playthrough and the Black Eagles House (minus Caspar and kind of Hubert). Edelgard and her route have garnered the most Discourse™ in fandom, from what I can tell, for both legitimate reasons and not, but while I did have some personal issues with Edelgard toward the end of part one (and kind of leading into part two, though I learned to let it go), I have to say that overall I loved her and I feel that her overall objectives---dismantling the oppressive Church of Seiros, dismantling the nobility system and establishing a meritocracy, and ultimately abdicating the throne to a worthy successor once she was done because she never actually wanted power, she just wanted to change a world that was domineering and hurting people and knew she needed power to do it---were just. She could have gone about it in a better way, maybe---but then again, it’s very easy to say that violent revolution isn’t necessary from a comfortable seat where you’re not actually forced to make that decision, versus when you live in a throes of a world that has not only existed this way for thousands of years with any hint of rebellion quickly executed by the church without a trial (as we see in game with characters such as Lonato and the Western Church soldiers), but also saw your siblings tortured and murdered before your very eyes, with you yourself being the sole survivor of that torture. Rhea showed time and again that she was not willing to negotiate with anyone who breathed a word against the church. Edelgard merely announcing that she was going to take the Crest Stones from the Holy Tomb had Rhea calling for her head, not only in the Black Eagles route, but in the Golden Deer route as well. If there is to be no negotiation, then the only choices are to let the world continue as it has been---which, considering what Edelgard has personally seen and how we know so many others in the game have suffered, is not an option---or to meet force with force, which is what Edelgard chose to do. Her path was not perfect, no---but considering Rhea is one who is willing to send children into battle to execute a man without a trial (children which could include that man’s own adoptive son, if you’re playing Blue Lions or otherwise request mission assistance from Ashe) as a way to show them why they should never raise a weapon against a church, I can’t see any other way to unseat Rhea and stop further injustices from being carried out. It’s not perfect, but life isn’t always, and I for one think it’s kind of refreshing to see a JRPG acknowledge that for once, rather than have everything wrapped up in a neat bow like Awakening did (much as I love Awakening, it went way too far with the happy ending nonsense).

. . . And that was an absurdly long paragraph that really got away from me. Apologies.

Anyway, as I was saying, I love Edelgard and her route. Apart from Sylvain (who was free), Ashe (who was adorable), and Mercedes (who I got to supplement losing Flayn), I didn’t really recruit anyone, and as a result I got to know the Black Eagles very well (aside from Caspar, whom I ditched early on because a.) he kept dying, b.) his voice was annoying, and c.) I wanted to focus on my other students). I’ve only played two Houses so far, but as it stands I’m just really very attached to the Black Eagles . . . and only like about half of the Golden Deer.

To be fair to them, the Golden Deer have had kind of an uphill battle. Unlike last time, I got to work recruiting people early; I scooped up Sylvain immediately because, again, he was free, and I used Renown to boost the Support ranks of Bernadetta, Petra, and Linhardt so I could get them immediately as well. I also used Renown to boost up my sword skill to nab Felix, since the fact that he has four support ranks with Sylvain piqued my interest and I wanted to see what all that was about. So from the get-go, I didn’t have much reason to pay attention to characters like Ignatz (who was replaced by Bernadetta), Lorenz (who was replaced by Linhardt), Raphael (who was replaced by Sylvain and Felix), or Leonie (who was replaced by Petra). But even if I did have reason to pay attention to them, mmhhh . . .

Well, okay. Let me do a brief rundown of each student from the Black Eagles and Golden Deer (including House Leaders) and how I feel about them, real quick.

Edelgard: Obviously, I love her, as I’ve already said. She’s a complex, strong character---not just in what she’s able to do in battle or how she’s able to lead, but in how she’s written. When playing her route and getting to know her, you come to see her vulnerabilities---and I think in that sense I benefited from playing her route first, so I could get to know that side of her before seeing the side of her that’s a warlord trying to change a world that desperately needs to change, but doesn’t want to. Edelgard’s vision is one of sweeping, systemic change; it’s not something that can happen overnight, or easily, or without sacrifices, particularly when some (e.g. Rhea, Dimitri) insist on calling for heads and blood splatter and refuse to surrender no matter what. But it’s change that’s rooted in the concrete, change that says, “I don’t care whether you like it or not, this is what’s best for all those who have been suffering until now, and you’re going to do it whether you like it or not.” That sort of demanding attitude can be bad, but considering Edelgard immediately takes action against corrupt nobles, dismantles the church that dominated EVERYONE in reality even if they claimed not to on the surface, and established a meritocracy, we can see in this instance that she truly was looking out for those who were disenfranchised, hurt, and suffering under the way things were. Certainly, there were things she could have done better (not working with her uncle would be a great start), but considering the situation she was in, I can also see why she made the choices she did. (Also, Hubert is a terrible influence, so.)

Hubert: SPEAKING OF . . . I have a love / hate relationship with Hubert, in that I like him as a character and what he adds to the story (especially with regards to Edelgard’s personal story), but mmmmmboy do I dislike him as a person. His ridiculous habit of threatening everyone for so much as looking at Edelgard wrong aside (when Shamir called him out on being unstable and told him to be careful who he threatened, I cheered), the fact that he says time and again that he will go and do heinous things behind Edelgard’s back in her name really pissed me off. Hubert is what’s known as a Poisonous Friend; though he does genuinely want to help Edelgard, his refusal to actually consider what she wants and what her values are regardless of what he, selfishly, believes to be in her best interests means that he very easily becomes the exact sort of person Edelgard despises. And while you could say that’s fine so long as she doesn’t find out (because that way she wouldn’t need to imprison him), what if others do, hm? How would that make her look, for everyone to know that her very own advisor and retainer was the exact same sort of person as Prime Minister Aegir, or her own uncle? I wanted to punch Hubert in the face so very badly. It’s a shame I was never able.

Bernadetta: MY SWEET AND PRECIOUS DAUGHTER . . . I LOVE HER SO MUCH . . . While I will admit that some of her supports with various characters got a bit repetitive and annoying because Bernadetta refused to listen to anyone and thus would continue into hysterics without reason, at the same time I can’t help but love this anxious little recluse (and want to murder both of her parents, but her father especially, given that they’re the very reason Bernadetta is so reclusive and prone to panic as she is---she’s traumatized!). Not only do I love her personality and design, but she is an absolute MONSTER on the battlefield. Part of the reason I insisted on recruiting her immediately in my Golden Deer playthrough is because Bernadetta slaughters pretty much everyone she comes across, without fail. Her and Petra both. But seriously though, her parents are awful and I wish I could adopt her.

Petra: YET ANOTHER DESTROYER OF WORLDS, AND THE ULTIMATE ASSASSIN. In both of my runs thus far I’ve classed Petra as a thief and then assassin, and honestly I can’t ever imagine classing her as anything else. She crits on practically every single strike, and she’s quick enough to get to chests I actually try to get to (some I skip on purpose because they’re too much of a pain lol). Personality-wise I also love her, though I wish her grasp on the Fodlan language had improved over the five year timeskip, instead of staying exactly the same. It would have been a subtle way to show some growth for her.

Dorothea: I like Dorothea, but I’m actually not as in love with her as most of the fandom. When I started playing I actually assumed I’d marry either her or Edelgard on my first run, but not only did Dorothea’s first support come across as very off-putting to me (I’ve had bad experiences with people who are desperate to be in a romantic relationship at all costs in the past, no matter the reason for it), but I actually found her to be kind of . . . annoying after the time skip. Whenever I selected her in battle she said, “More fighting” with a heavy sigh, and most of her win quotes (e.g. “Only thorns left on this rose”) felt very melodramatic. Which, I mean, she’s an opera singer, and I’m not expecting her to enjoy war, but it just grated on my nerves after a while. No one wanted to fight, but no one else complained about it as constantly as Dorothea did. That said, I do like a lot of her supports and how, well, supportive she is of (most of) the others, and she was a good mage as well, so I don’t dislike her. I’m just not as crazy about her as others are.

Ferdinand: OTOH, my opinion of Ferdinand is the opposite of my opinion on Dorothea. While I started off not liking him at all because of his insistence that he was superior to Edelgard (especially when he was so fragile at first? bruh), his character development was truly great. He was a true noble gentleman by the end, truly caring about doing his best for his people and Edelgard both. Many of his supports---particularly those with Petra and Dorothea---were very sweet as well. I truly came to enjoy Ferdinand immensely.

Linhardt: THIS BOY, I LOVE THIS BOY. At first I was not too impressed with the “just want to sleep, leave me alone” shtick, but aside from that being as relatable as Bernadetta always wanting to be left alone, I came to love how direct he is, how blunt he is, how clever and witty he is, as well as how great of a healer he is (make him a Holy Knight and he can destroy everything as well as heal it---and he knows Warp, too!). He’s one of my top favorite students, for sure. Love this boy.

Caspar: On the other hand, as I think I mentioned above, Caspar . . . got ditched fairly quickly. His voice is annoying, and on top of that he had low defense without enough damage input (or movement squares) to justify it. I already had an axe user with Edelgard, and so it made more sense to just bench him early on and be done with it. As a result, I don’t have much to say about him. Didn’t have many supports, never really talked to him outside class. Sorry Caspar, but you were just a very low priority for me.

And with the Black Eagles rounded up, let’s move on to . . .

Claude: I love this boy a WHOLE LOT as well, but I’m also not feeling much of an . . . attachment? between Claude and Byleth. I think it’s because Claude takes so long to open up, and he (understandably) wants to know about Byleth’s past before he’ll share any of his own. But even when he starts to open up, his words about how he feels as if his meeting with Byleth was fate and how they’re more than a friend to him feel kind of hollow since we haven’t had emotional moments before that to build it up (unlike how we had in Edelgard’s C and C+ Supports). The fact that his reaction to Byleth returning was less emotional than Edelgard’s contributes to that too, I think. On the other hand, I love how much he knows about Byleth even before the timeskip---way more than Edelgard knows even by the end of her route---as well as how he did have genuine consolation for Byleth after Jeralt’s death, which was one of my issues with Edelgard (SHE OFFERED MORE CONSOLATION ON THE GOLDEN DEER ROUTE THOUGH, WHAT EVEN---). I also just love, love, love everything about his personality. He reminds me a lot of Marco from Animorphs, albeit more idealistic and optimistic, and so I just can’t help but adore him. (More on his idealistic approach in a bit.)

Hilda: Honestly, I thought I wouldn’t be able to stand Hilda, but boy was I wrong. Yes, she’s a bit self-centered and definitely lazy and takes advantage of others---but she also encourages her less confident Housemates to be stronger (in a way that’s actually encouraging, at that), doesn’t take kindly to others not getting what’s owed to them, is honest, and DOES pull her weight when she needs to. On top of which she is a total TANK, and I can’t help but love dainty-looking female characters who can just steamroll and sweep through enemies with giant axes, haha. Hilda’s a fave, and it kills me that she can’t be recruited to Black Eagles at any point ever.

Lysithea: Another fave, and someone I’m recruiting IMMEDIATELY when I play the other routes. She’s by far the best black mage I’ve encountered, and the fact that she has white magic to go along with it (making her a shoo-in for the Master class Gremory) makes her fantastic on the battlefield, even if her defense is a little fragile. And while her “OMG I’M NOT A KID >:(” thing can get kind of annoying at times, at the same time the reason for why she’s desperate to grown up does make sense, and I love her overall attitude.

Marianne: Like Dorothea’s attitude post-timeskip, Marianne started to wear on me after a while. I do like her okay, but her constant “I’m cursed” and “leave me here to die” and “I am going to apologize for breathing now” --- even if there’s an understandable reason --- got to be a bit Much after awhile. She seems a bit better post-timeskip, which is nice, but mmmm, my nerves still feel just a bit frayed.

Raphael: Honestly, I usually skip past his dialogue, because it’s either about Muscles or Food or Both. I’m wondering if this is something that was done to him in the localization, to make him the Comic Relief character, but either way I don’t find this archetype funny at all. He could have been a big dude who likes working out with more to him---and maybe he does have more to him, in his supports, but I have no need for him in battle and thus haven’t seen those, particularly since I don’t feel like talking to him out of battle since he’s just a walking Fat/Muscle Trope joke. Disappointing, but is what it is, I guess.

Leonie: THE MOST. ANNOYING. ISTG. I don’t think I would mind Leonie so much if she didn’t act so antagonistically toward Byleth / so possessive of Jeralt, but her constant prattling about how she’s “Captain Jeralt’s first and best apprentice” and how she’ll have HER revenge for his death and etc etc --- sis you knew him for, what, a couple weeks? TEN YEARS AGO??? Holy shit, it’s a wonder Jeralt even remembers her name, much less taking her on as his apprentice when he’s got the kid he raised from infancy right there. Considering that both her C and B supports have her yelling at Byleth for ~not appreciating Jeralt enough~ just makes it worse. It’s a shame, because she could have been a supportive pseudo-sibling for Byleth, but instead she just comes across as annoying as all get-out. Needless to say, she’s perma-benched.

Ignatz: I really don’t have too much to say about him, because he’s another that was benched pretty much immediately and didn’t give me reasons outside of battle to un-bench him. As in, he never offered anything particularly interesting in cutscenes, or out of cutscenes, his design wasn’t appealing, etc etc. I don’t dislike him, but I don’t like him, either. I actually forget he exists most of the time.

Lorenz: His design is unappealing, his attitude is insufferable (worse than Ferdinand EVER was---at least Ferdinand started supporting Edelgard by the time of the timeskip, whereas Lorenz can’t even do that for Claude!), and his C support reveals that he’s an incel. Like I don’t think there’s much more that needs to be said about how little care I have for this dude.

So as you can see, even setting aside my biases, the Golden Deer just . . . don’t click for me, for the most part. If I could poach anyone I liked to other Houses, I would definitely take Claude, Hilda, and Lysithea, and leave the rest. (Well, except Marianne; she’d be useful as a secondary healer, since I don’t like Mercedes’ voice and Flayn is too loyal to the church.) And as a result, I really, really miss my Black Eagle Strike Force route.

But do you know what makes me miss that route even more than the students?

The stance on the church.

Listen: I figured that playing the Golden Deer route wouldn’t mean tearing down the Church of Seiros the way that playing the Black Eagle Strike Force route does, but the fact that you’re still siding so heavily with the church and that Byleth is apparently super concerned about Rhea / actually likes her in this route just disgusts me. Listen again: I’ve never liked Rhea. Admittedly when I very first started playing I thought that she was probably another Emmeryn type, but the moment she said that she wanted to send the students to kill Lonato because she wanted to show them “what would happen to those who raised a blade to the church” she went on my Red Flag list, and everything that happened in the Holy Tomb after just cemented that for me. For all that people love to call Edelgard a tyrant, the real tyrant in this game is Rhea. Those who speak out against the church aren’t given a shot at a fair trial or a chance to surrender. In both the Black Eagles route and the Golden Deer route her immediate reaction to Edelgard turning on her is to call for Edelgard’s death in the most brutal way possible, ranting and raving about how Edelgard’s “sins” will never be forgiven “even if she bathes in flames and her blood soaks the earth for eternity” or whatever it was. And while she puts on a nice face toward Byleth provided Byleth doesn’t also turn on her (at which point she immediately flips on Byleth and starts calling her a “worthless failure” and “filthy thief” and whatever else), keep in mind that’s only because she thinks that Sothis will use Byleth’s body as a puppet vessel. She doesn’t view Byleth as a person, she views Byleth as a thing, a means to an end, something which even Seteth points out is “questionable” (though it’s much worse than that). True, you can work very hard and get an S Rank with Rhea (though why anyone would want to I have no idea), but that doesn’t change her general attitude throughout the game if you choose not to go that route. It doesn’t change how she treats other people, even if she does eventually see Byleth as their own person. Rhea is a tyrant, and rather than being their own sovereign nations, it’s more accurate to say that Faerghus, Adrestia, and the Alliance are states / colonies of the Church of Seiros. The fact that Garreg Mach is at the center of all three territories is not a coincidence. That those who speak out against the church are assassinated / executed without trial and without hesitation is just another instrument of their tyranny. And you can even see Rhea’s manipulations with other characters, as well. Cyril was taken in as a child, and raised to worship the ground Rhea walks on; Rhea took Shamir in when she had nowhere else to go, making Shamir feel indebted to her; Rhea saved Jeralt’s life (and granted him immortality) so that he would serve her as a Knight of Seiros, and so on and so forth. And should any of them turn against her, she immediately wants their heads on pikes. No doubt she would have killed Jeralt in an instant had she the opportunity to get Byleth away from him before he left the monastary all those years ago (/had he tried to leave the monastary with Byleth again). That’s just the type of person she is.

So the fact that Byleth in this route seems to genuinely like Rhea---enough to risk their life for her---disgusts me. It goes completely against how I feel. I not only hate the Church of Seiros, but I hate Rhea most of all. (Though I also hold quite a bit of contempt for Catherine, given how gleeful she is about killing others.) Claude knows that Rhea was up to some shady bullshit in the past concerning Byleth’s history, but he’s still placing faith in the church (mostly for his own gain, which I get, but still). It really, really bothers me. I already knew ahead of time that the Blue Lions route would be church heavy given that the Church of Seiros openly owns Faerghus, but I didn’t expect that from the Alliance as well, and it makes me feel queasy. I might have to cleanse my palate with another Black Lions Strike Force run again after this. (And if the Blue Lions is even more church-centric than this? Ugh. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it.)

All of this said, it kind of makes me want to write a fic that combines the Black Eagle Strike Force route with the Golden Deer route---one where Claude joins with Edelgard and Byleth pre-timeskip, and continues working with them after. Bringing Claude and Edelgard together would be difficult, but not impossible, I think, considering that Claude feels no loyalty to the Church of Seiros and wants to know the truth behind everything more than anything (and has a pretty open mind, at that). Perhaps, with the three of them working together, they could even save Dimitri later on down the line as well . . . well, it’d be something to consider, anyway.

That said, this post is long enough as it is, and I still need to shower and then get to sleep. Better leave it off here. :P

#fire emblem: three houses

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inversekaon · 5 years

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[fic] Emergence

Fandom: Yugioh Zexal Paring: V/Gauche Rating: M (but it's pretty much just one scene) Wordcount: 9000+ dreamwidth link AO3 link

Sequel to Freefall and Plummet. The next time Gauche crossed paths with V again was in Spartan City. ~*~*~*~*~

It was the day after Yuma and his friends had left Spartan City that Gauche crossed paths with him again. He was out on a mission from Droite to pick up a few of her favorites from a bakery, and was somewhat preoccupied by trying not to attract too much of a crowd, when all of a sudden he looked up to find those long locks of silver hair right at the end of the street in front of him. The man seemed to be looking up at one of the screens celebrating his win in the Championship match, as if he was completely unaware of the fact that he'd vanished without a trace several months ago. Gauche stopped in his tracks and stared. For a moment, he was convinced he was seeing a ghost. After what he'd been through the other day, why not an actual ghost this time? Then he realized abruptly that, ghost or not, if he didn't hurry up, that man was likely to vanish into thin air again, and he couldn't count on being lucky enough to randomly cross his path a second time. Gauche shook himself free of his stupor and dashed forward. "V!" The man tensed, and that curtain of silver hair fluttered as he whirled around. For all that he'd been staring up at the tournament advertisement, in which he was front and center, V seemed equally surprised to see him. "Gauche…?" Gauche marched right up to him and jabbed a finger at his chest. "You! Where have you been?" "I'm sorry?" V said, looking utterly confused. Gauche scowled at him and leaned in even closer, his finger now jammed hard against V's chest. He didn't know what it was about that confusion that pissed him off, but he found himself ranting before he realized it: "Do you have any idea how much time I wasted looking for you? I waited for hours only to find out you couldn't be bothered to leave out the front door and you were already gone. And no one's seen hide or hair of you or your family since then—not even Kaito and I was sure you'd tell him. Where the hell have you been?" V went on staring at him like he was speaking some foreign language or like he'd been the one who was missing only to suddenly reappear halfway around the world in a random Italian city. Then his brow furrowed and he looked away for a moment. When he lifted his head again, he looked even more confused and maybe something else, though Gauche couldn't begin to guess what. "You were looking for me?" V asked. Too late, Gauche realized what had come out of his mouth—things that he'd thought about yelling at V if he ever saw the man again but had never meant to actually yell at him, because it was embarrassing enough that he'd done all that without V actually knowing about it. But now that he'd said it, he decided he might as well take his chances and double down on it, especially since V, annoyingly, sounded like he'd never considered that Gauche thought about him at all. Gauche opened his mouth to thoroughly disabuse him of that idea— "Nii-sama? What's going on…?" —and shut it again to frown over at the two teens approaching them. One was holding a bag with bread sticking out of the top and looked confused but wary; the other was scowling at him like he thought he could light Gauche on fire if he did it long enough. Both were wearing similarly styled clothes to V's, although Gauche only mostly recognized one of them. V casually pushed Gauche's hand down away from his chest and turned to smile at the newcomers in one smooth movement. "It's all right, I just ran into a friend. Have you finished your shopping?" The one with the bread looked very doubtful in the moment before he smiled back at V. "For now, but let's stop at a few more places on the way back, okay, nii-sama?" "All right, but only a couple more places—" "Are you going to introduce us?" Gauche asked before they could get so involved in their conversation that they forgot about him completely. V frowned over at him, but only long enough to make it clear he didn't appreciate the interruption. Then he sighed and said, "Yes, I suppose. Gauche, this is my youngest brother, Michael"—he gestured at the boy holding the bag of bread—"and my other brother Thomas—" "We've met," Thomas snapped, crossing his arms. "—and I'm sure you both remember him, but this is Gauche. The, um, Starman." Above them, the advertisement screen proudly announced his name moments later. V turned back to him with a smile that was clearly just holding back laughter, but Gauche found he didn't care all that much. Laughing at him or not, it was the first genuine smile V had ever given him. "One of Heartland's lackeys," Thomas sneered, utterly destroying the mood. Gauche had no problem sneering back at him. "Least he wasn't just a kid." Thomas's face immediately screwed up in outrage, and Michael, who had so far only looked wary but otherwise fairly pleasant, also suddenly seemed scarily cold. V winced and stepped between the three of them, turning his back on Gauche to speak more directly to only his brothers. "Gauche and I have a few things to talk about, so why don't you two head back first?" His tone left no room for argument, although both of them tried, with Thomas scowling around V's shoulder more than once. Neither of them seemed willing to try to argue very much, though, and eventually, Michael made the wise choice to relent for both of them. "All right, nii-sama. We'll see you later," he said, and then began dragging his surly brother off down the street with only a brief glance at Gauche. Thomas seemed to have decided that scowling at Gauche wasn't working and completely ignored him as he passed by, his nose stuck theatrically up in the air. When the two of them were far enough away not to be overheard, they very clearly began discussing something which eventually caused Michael to glare back at them accusingly. Gauche grumpily crossed his arms and turned away. He didn't like the look of that. But with any luck, he wouldn't have to deal with them again any time soon. V was silent as he watched his brothers leave until they disappeared around a corner. Then he turned to face Gauche again, his face set and eyes like shards of ice. Gauche slowly, awkwardly, uncrossed his arms, unsure what was coming. "For the record," V said quietly, "that 'kid' is our father, and your old boss's boss is the reason for it. So I'll thank you not to make any more quips at his expense." For a long moment, all Gauche could do was stare at him. His father>?! How the hell had that happened? And it was Dr. Faker's fault? Did Dr. Faker have some kind of weird shrinking ray gun or something? That was like something out of a B-movie! How could something like that really happen?! Still, he had no doubt that it really had happened. V might laugh about his choice of name as a Pro Duelist, but he wouldn't joke about something like this. He was clearly just as angry about Gauche's offhand remark as his brothers had been. And no matter how Gauche felt about the kid-who-was-actually-not (which still wasn't all that favorably; he wasn't going to forget what that kid did to Droite for a long time), he didn't want V to be angry with him. They already hadn't started off on the best foot; this was an opportunity to get off on a better one, and he didn't want to screw that up. "I got it. Sorry, I won't do it again." And then in a blatant effort to move on to something else less awkward, he added quickly, "So is it Christopher again, too?" V closed his eyes, the way he had the first time Gauche had said his name back when he'd started all this, although he had a much gentler look on his face this time when he opened them again. "It's whichever you like. You can also call me Chris, if you want. Everyone else does." "Heh, a name like that kinda undermines that high-and-mighty attitude of yours, doesn't it?" Gauche said with a grin. He grabbed one of V's hands before he could get too indignant and bowed his head to brush his lips over the back of his knuckles. When he looked up again, V's cheeks were now tinged the slightest bit pink, and Gauche couldn’t help but grin again behind the hand he still held against his lips. "All right then, Chris. How's dinner sound?" ~*~*~*~*~ The walk back to the hotel he was staying at with Droite was mostly uneventful, although it didn't get off to the best start. After about five minutes of walking in awkward silence, Gauche realized he had never made it as far as the bakery and had to turn back around to finish his mission. Thankfully, Chris didn't seem to mind and even walked back with him to where they had run into each other and then down the street a little to the shop. Once they left the bakery and resumed their journey, they were still mostly walking in silence. Despite telling his brothers they had something to talk about, Chris didn't seem very inclined to actually talk about anything other than an occasional remark about some nice architecture. Gauche had quite a lot he wanted to ask him about, from where he'd disappeared to during the WDC to where he'd been since then to how he'd ended up in Spartan City, but the longer Chris remained silent, the more awkward Gauche felt about bringing any of it up out of the blue. After all, he'd already brought up some of it. If Chris wasn't going to say anything about what Gauche had already blurted out, then would he really answer any of the other questions he had? They were maybe a third of the way to the hotel when they passed by a group of kids who immediately flocked around him to rave about his win and ask for autographs. Of course, Gauche wasn't about to disappoint them. He handed his bag of pastries off to Chris and pulled out a marker for autographs. When he was finally able to pull himself away, he found that Chris had moved off to the side—to stay out of the way, probably—and he was watching the scene with a soft smile. Gauche tried to ignore the way his heart beat wildly as Chris handed the bag of pastries back to him. "You didn't used to do that," Gauche blurted before he could stop himself. Chris blinked at him. "Do what?" "Smile like that. I don't remember you smiling much at all, and it wasn't like that." Chris furrowed his brow and raised his fingers to his lips. Did he not realize he had been smiling like that? "I don't remember you being so popular," Chris said eventually, completely side-stepping the topic of how he smiled altogether. "Which reminds me, I meant to congratulate you on your win, Mr. Starman." Gauche scowled at him. "Some congratulation. You're making fun of my name again." Chris's lips twitched. "Maybe a little. I won't tease you again; I don't actually dislike it. And I do wish we could have gotten here a little earlier, so we could have watched some of the tournament. I would have liked to have seen you duel." "Really?" Gauche asked suspiciously. He wanted to be excited about that, but he hadn't gotten the impression that Chris thought much of him when they'd dueled. Pretty much the opposite, in fact. Especially since he would have lost if Yuma hadn't jumped in when he did. "You have a lot of potential, and I'd like to see how you've improved." There was that condescending attitude he'd expected. Gauche let out an irritated sort of chuckle, although he didn't find it quite as irritating when he was expecting it. "Oi, oi, you could give me a little credit. You're talking to the Champion here, you know?" He grinned and looped an arm around Chris's shoulders, making him stumble a step. "Anyway, if you wanted to see it that bad, we can watch a few videos when we get back to the hotel. They filmed the whole thing." "I don't know if I have that kind of time," Chris said, sounding like there was nothing else he'd rather do. "You could just tell me about it? I'll look up the videos later." "Doesn't seem like you ever have enough time," Gauche said, but he launched into a spirited retelling of the preliminary round anyway. It's not like he was opposed to bragging about his various wins, especially to a captive audience. It was weird. The first part of their journey had been so awkward and felt like it had dragged on forever. But once they actually started talking, it was surprisingly easy to talk to Chris and the time seemed to fly by. Maybe it was just that it was a subject they were both passionate about—although Gauche had to admit, he was surprised Chris was so passionate about it. He had only seen one glimpse of that passion during their duel and it had been because of Yuma; otherwise, Chris had seemed like he would have rather been anywhere else. But maybe whatever had happened that meant he smiled now had also reignited his love of dueling. Gauche wasn't able to cover nearly as much of the tournament as he'd intended, because Chris would comment on his strategy or his opponents and they ended up discussing the other participants' decks and various strategies instead. Or Chris would somehow figure out what strategy he had used in a certain situation before he could tell about it himself. That was…a little frustrating, if he was being honest, because that just made it impossible to impress him even a little bit, but he was enjoying it too much to care. "That brother of yours, IV—Thomas. He's a Pro, isn't he?" Gauche finally had to ask as they approached the hotel. "Why aren't you a Pro too? You've got to be at least as good as he is." "It isn't just us; Michael could also go pro if he wanted." "Yeah, and….?" "And that isn't what Tron wanted," Chris said impassively. "I'm sure he'd allow it now, but at the time….Besides, Thomas is the one who enjoys being in the spotlight like that. I don't mind it once in a while, but I don't want that kind of attention all the time." "That's a shame," Gauche said with an overacted sigh. "I bet you could really go far. And you know, I'm still looking for a Tag partner…Droite wouldn't do it with me…" Chris stared at him for a moment, then abruptly turned his head away and covered his hand with his fist. "Is that so?" Chris said, sounding amused. "I'm flattered, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline as well. As you said, I never seem to have enough time." Since this was pretty much what he'd expected, Gauche just gave another over-dramatic sigh and grinned at him. "Oh well, it was worth a shot. But keep it in mind, all right? You can't be too busy to have fun forever." ~*~*~*~*~ They made a quick stop by the hotel room first, so Gauche could let Droite know he was back and drop off her pastries. Of course, that also involved dragging Chris into the room to meet Droite, and even though Gauche was sure they'd get along, he was still relieved that it went pretty well. Whatever animosity Droite might have still had toward Tron (and Gauche didn't know whether she did, just that he would have if he were her) didn't seem to extend to his sons. Or maybe it just didn't extend to Chris, because as it turned out, Droite remembered him too. Although if he thought about it, that wasn't much of a surprise. Chris and Kaito had been nearly inseparable back then, so of course Droite had noticed him. Gauche didn't particularly like thinking about it, though whether he was jealous of Kaito because of Droite or because of Chris, he couldn't be sure anymore. Then they left to find a table at the hotel restaurant, where they had just been with Yuma and his friends a few days ago. Droite had raised her eyebrows at them when Gauche had apologized but declared that it would just be the two of them, but she waved them off with a small smile and even called ahead to make sure there was a table available when they got there. They were lucky enough to get a table that was somewhat secluded but still near the windows, where they could clearly see the newly exposed ruins beyond the city. Chris didn't even seem to notice them, but Gauche spent a minute looking out on them before he sat down. "We've been continuing my father's research into the Parallel Worlds," Chris said, once they had their food, finally answering the question of why he was there and where he had been. It took Gauche asking him again to get that answer, but at least he didn't seem to be shying away from it. "All of you?" Gauche asked, surprised. He didn't know a whole lot about Chris's brothers, but neither of them struck him as the sciencey type. "Well, perhaps Thomas a bit less than the rest of us," Chris admitted with a small smile behind his wine glass. "But Michael has always been very interested in it as well, although he's more interested in the effects they've had on past cultures." They definitely must not have known about the ruins, then, or Michael would have wanted to stick around to look through them. Gauche was silently glad he hadn't said anything about them before Chris's brothers had left so he could have Chris all to himself for a while. "We noticed a sudden spike in abnormal energy readings and spatial distortions not too long ago," Chris went on, "that we came to believe were because the Barians were beginning to act on their own. Coming to our world in person and utilizing Sphere Fields in order to duel Yuma directly, that sort of thing. Kaito confirmed that for me not long after we detected the first Sphere Field—" "Wait," Gauche said, throwing up a hand. "Wait. Are you telling me Kaito's known where you were this whole time?" "Not this whole time," Chris said slowly. "Just for the past week or so while we've been following Yuma. But we were in contact before that." "Right, but what you're saying is, Kaito knew I was looking for you, and he knew you were here, and he didn't say anything about it before he left with Yuma yesterday." Chris paused with his glass against his lips, and then slowly set it down on the table. "If it helps you feel better, he didn't say anything about you either when he informed me they'd retrieved another Numbers. He told me Yuma dueled one of the Barians for it, but not much else." "Yeah, and I was there too!" Gauche exclaimed, pounding his chest with his fist. "That Barian guy brainwashed me and made me duel with him! I was dueling Yuma too! And Droite helped him beat us!" "You were?" Chris said, suddenly looking twice as interested. "Where was that? Did you notice anything unusual?" "Those ruins over there," Gauche said with an irritated wave toward the window. Chris immediately turned his head to look, although with the sun setting, the ruins were becoming hard to see. "But that's not what's important here! Kaito knows I was there! Why wouldn't he say anything?" Chris stared out the window for another few moments and then frowned down at his glass. "…What exactly did Kaito say to you before he left yesterday?" "Just some dumb thing about what a coincidence it was to run into us here and it was good to see old friends again. He was mostly just talking to Droite, I think, 'cause he wouldn't say anything like that to me." "Oh. I see." For some reason, Chris's lips twitched as he took his next bite. "Well, I'll pass on your frustration. Anyway, it was his idea for us to come into town today to pick up fresh provisions." "Was it," Gauche grumbled. "He should've told you to come yesterday." "Oh, he did, but we were only able to get here this morning. But he did also say we should stick around for a bit, because their next destination is somewhere near Mongolia, so we won't be able to follow them there." Gauche still wasn't entirely sure why Chris suddenly thought he wanted to know what Kaito had been saying to him while they were secretly communicating with each other and not anyone else, but he did find that last bit very interesting and eagerly latched on to it. "If you need somewhere to stay—" "We can't," Chris interrupted. "I'd like to, but we'll need the extra time to get to the last two locations, and there's a project Kaito and I—" Gauche suddenly launched to his feet, sending his chair screeching backward on the floor. Chris paused, and then carefully set down his utensils and looked up at him. "Gauche?" "I don't want to hear about Kaito right now," Gauche snapped. Then he grabbed a fistful of Chris's collar and lunged down to kiss him. Kaito, Kaito, Kaito…how did he end up liking someone who was clearly more interested in Kaito again What was so special about Kaito? He didn't even dislike Kaito himself all that much anymore, but how could he not feel sick of hearing about him? How could he not be jealous? After finding out that Chris had dropped off the map for everyone except Kaito, after inviting him here on what was essentially a date and all he could focus on was Kaito— He'd already known Chris was never going to be as interested in an actual relationship as he was, that their twenty minute fling during the WDC was probably enough for him. That he probably hadn't given Gauche another thought afterward. But that didn't mean it wasn't frustrating to see it for himself, to feel like Chris wasn't looking at him even sitting across from him. He wasn't sure kissing him would accomplish anything, but maybe it would make it very clear that he was interested in him, because asking him out for dinner apparently hadn't. Chris froze in his seat. After a moment, he reached up to press his hand against Gauche's chest, and Gauche was sure he was about to be shoved away. Then his hand slid slowly up his chest, pausing a moment to rub his thumb over his throat, and behind his head. Chris's fingers curled in his hair to hold him in place, and he rose out of his chair and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. As soon as Gauche realized he was not getting shoved back—Chris was, in fact, enthusiastically kissing him back in the middle of a busy restaurant—he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat and pressed even closer. Chris pressed his other hand against his chest—probably to keep him from trying to go too far, but mostly it was just very distracting, as his fingers couldn't seem to stay completely still. Before it could get too distracting, though, Chris lightly pushed on his chest and leaned a bit backward himself, so he could murmur against his lips. "Gauche…" "Hmm?" "I want to see the ruins." … Gauche leaned back a little more to frown at him. "What?" "The ruins. You said you were there when Yuma retrieved the Numbers. Will you take me there? I want to look around." … Gauche pushed him backward by his collar. "That's what you were thinking about?!" What the hell?! Did he just not know how to read this guy at all? He'd seemed really into it! "No," Chris said, grabbing onto Gauche's wrist. He lowered his voice so only Gauche could hear him as he went on, "I was thinking about how much I want you to take me back to your room, and the sooner I finish my work, the sooner you can." Chris was holding his wrist to keep him from going anywhere, Gauche realized abruptly. His mouth felt very dry, all the way down the back of his throat. "Ah, really? I thought…" "I've been thinking about it since you said you were looking for me," Chris continued, his deep blue eyes intently fixed on Gauche. "Or do you think I'll let anyone manhandle me and take me to dinner? If Droite hadn't been there, we might not have ever made it as far as the restaurant." As it turned out, he had absolutely no idea how to read this guy at all. It was a good thing Chris was willing to be so forward and clear up some misunderstandings, or he definitely would have kept making a fool of himself. But that didn't matter right now. What mattered right now was going to the ruins and back as quickly as possible. Gauche grinned wildly and swooped in for another kiss. "Are you done eating?" he asked as he pulled away again. Chris smiled a little. "I could be." He let go of Gauche's wrist. Gauche let go of his collar and grabbed his hand instead. ~*~*~*~*~ "I should check in with my family first," Chris said once they reached the parking garage. He'd been considering whether it would be worth it the whole way down to the basement, and finally decided that he didn't want to worry them more than he didn't want to field questions about why he wasn't coming back yet. Gauche shrugged and went on ahead while Chris slowed his steps to have a semblance of privacy as he followed behind him. "Thomas," he said, lifting his wrist. A holoscreen appeared above his bracelet, and Thomas scowled at him from the other side of it. "Oi, Chris, what's taking you so long? You can't have had that much to say to that gorilla." Chris had to make an effort not to scowl a bit himself. Really, Thomas, wasn't this a rather long time to hold a grudge over something you shouldn't have walked in on in the first place? "As it happens, we have quite a lot to talk about," Chris said, raising his eyebrows slightly. "He is Yuma's ally, and he played a part in retrieving the Numbers. Which is why I'm calling, actually. We have more to talk about than I thought, so I'll be staying here a while longer." "Like how much longer?" Thomas asked suspiciously. "Until tomorrow," Chris said. And then waited. As he expected, Thomas's face immediately screwed up in fury, and he was halfway out of his seat when he sneered, "You expect me to believe you're just going to be talking until tomorrow?" "You can believe what you want. Whether we are or not really isn't your business," Chris said sharply. "Although while we're on the topic, I do believe I said you weren't to breathe a word about it to anyone." His tone was closer to something he would have used as V than his usual disposition nowadays, and they both knew that only happened when he was feeling particularly peeved. He was also quite sure Thomas knew he had crossed a line, even though he flinched and looked a bit hurt to have that tone directed at him again. "Look, Michael just wanted to know why you guys were all buddy-buddy all of a sudden," Thomas said with an awkward, humorless laugh and his gaze very firmly somewhere other than the screen. "You've gotta admit, it's kind of suspicious to see you being so friendly with anyone but Kaito, aniki. I didn't even tell him the whole story, just—anyway, it's not like I told Tron. I'm not that stupid." "Hmmm? What's that? My sons are keeping secrets from me?" Thomas blanched in horror as Tron moved into his space, poking his head around the edge of the screen to look at Chris. Chris, on the other hand, immediately took on the air of the dutiful son who loved his father very much and had absolutely nothing to hide from him whatsoever. Which wouldn't convince Tron in the slightest after what he'd overheard, but Tron would also have some difficulty in effectively calling him out on it from miles away. Besides, maybe he would be intrigued enough that his most loyal son was actually keeping a secret to just watch what would happen from afar. "Father," he said with a very faint smile. "I was just calling to say I'll be a little later than I thought. I ran into someone from Heartland, and he happened to be there when Yuma retrieved the Numbers, so he's agreed to show me around the ruins so I can gather data." "Ooh? You must think this will take a lot longer than you thought, or you wouldn't have called." "Yes, the ruins are extensive and some distance from here. I don't think I'll be back until tomorrow." "Tomorrow?" Tron repeated, sounding more surprised than was necessary. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" Oh, so that was the card he was going to play. Chris gave him a reassuring smile. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. The person I'm with is perfectly capable of assisting me should I need it." Tron's eye sparkled in a way that made Chris instantly feel wary. "Is that so? My, it's rare to hear you speak so highly of someone, Chris. This person from Heartland, is it someone I know?" Chris said, very carefully, "No, I don't believe you've met him." Behind Tron, Thomas mouthed those words to himself with an incredulous look on his face. Tron just smiled and clapped his hands together. "Oh, then you should bring him by! I'm always eager to meet another researcher into the Parallel Worlds!" Thomas fell into a sudden coughing fit, causing the image to jerk around. Beyond the screen, Chris could see Gauche's boots jerk and spin around toward him. Chris waved his free hand at him—low, where Tron wouldn't see any movement—and nodded to Tron. "I'll mention it to him," he said. "Now, if you don't mind, father, we really should get going…" "Of course, of course!" Tron said with a bright smile. "Do be careful, Christopher. Make sure to use proper protection while you're climbing around those ruins." Thomas, who had only just recovered, fell into another coughing fit. Chris's expression faltered very slightly. He prayed that Tron hadn't noticed it. "I'll be careful. Good night," he said, and he quickly shut off the feed before Tron could say anything else. And then he covered his face with his hand and prayed, again, that this was not going to cause him too much trouble in the future. Gauche was, unfortunately, attractive enough to be worth it, but it would be very nice if he could put off finding out how Tron would react to him sleeping with Heartland's former henchman until long after this whole mess with the Barians was taken care of. When he finally looked up through his fingers, it was to find Gauche staring at him from where waiting next to a motorcycle with his arms crossed. Gauche smirked at him once he looked up and nodded his head toward Chris's bracelet. "Tomorrow, huh?" "Do you have a problem with that?" Chris asked, knowing full well he would not. He glanced at the motorcycle again and reached back to start braiding his hair. He could probably get away with leaving it loose, but he wasn't sure he wanted to risk it. Gauche grinned ever wider. "Did I sound like I had a problem? Here, let me help with that." He walked over and his fingers brushed over Chris's as he took Chris's hair into his hands. Chris hesitated a moment, but dropped his hands and let Gauche take over. It had been a while since he let anyone handle his hair that wasn't one of his brothers, but that wasn't because he didn't like it, and it was certainly easier for him to let someone else braid it. "For the record," Gauche said after a moment, "I don't want to meet your dad. Least, not right now." "I would have been more surprised if you said you did," Chris said. He took a moment to lock down his bracelet so he wouldn't be getting any surprise calls and then closed his eyes to better enjoy the sensation of someone else braiding his hair. "I'll tell him you were too busy, or too shy, or something." Gauche snorted lightly but didn't say anything else. His fingers moved quickly, crisscrossing behind Chris's more skillfully than he would have expected. It wasn't like he could have practiced much on Droite. Sooner than he would have liked, he felt Gauche's fingers reaching the end. He pulled a hair tie off his wrist and held it back over his shoulder for him to use. "Now that's nostalgic," Gauche said once he stepped back around to the front. "Last time I saw you with your hair like this, it was a lot shorter. I think I like it better the other way, though." "Well, I don't usually braid it unless I'm sleeping," Chris said as he started taking off his coat. "But if we're going to be riding a motorcycle, I want it a little more contained." "I don't remember you caring about that before," Gauche said. His eyes swept over Chris's chest as he pulled one arm out of his coat; Chris steadfastly resisted the urge to drop his coat to the ground and keep going. "Maybe I would have if the Duel Coasters had a wheel directly underneath where I needed to sit," Chris said dryly. He pulled his coat back on again, now with his braid trapped between it and his back, and fastened it back up. "Heh, fair enough." Gauche handed him what looked like a bicycle helmet, jerked his head toward the motorcycle, and then climbed on without a helmet at all. Chris eyed both Gauche and the helmet skeptically, but eventually he put the helmet on and sat behind him. Letting him have the only helmet was an attempt at a sweet gesture, he supposed. Gauche waited until Chris's arms were wrapped firmly around his waist, then he kicked the motorcycle to life and pulled out onto the street. ~*~*~*~*~ Night had fallen completely by the time Gauche rolled to a stop at the edge of the ruins, and Chris found it surprisingly difficult to let go of him to get off the bike. The night air was pleasantly cool and Gauche's back radiated warmth, and both together conspired to make leaning against him the most comfortable place he could imagine being right then. It had actually been tempting to take a nap during the ride. Gauche didn't seem in any hurry to get up either. Chris sighed and eventually managed to peel himself away before Gauche could intertwine their fingers too firmly. The moon was still fairly low in the sky, but it was more than bright enough to illuminate the vast crater in the world in front of them and the ruined coliseum at the center of it. Chris paused at the edge between a pair of toppled columns to take a few readings but mostly just to stare at it in awe. Gauche stopped next to him with his arms crossed. "You said this was a lake until a few days ago?" "Yeah, 'til that Barian guy busted a few holes in the walls," Gauche said with a scowl. "Flooded the whole area. It was on the news." "I'm surprised it isn't already crawling with archaeologists." Not that Chris was going to complain about that. Having to explain what they were doing here wasn't something he relished doing. But it was a good thing they had come tonight, not only because the residual energy was undoubtedly rapidly disappearing, but also because these ruins were unlikely to remain empty for much longer. Chris pulled his braid free of his coat and casually jumped down onto one of the paths that lead down to the coliseum. Gauche jumped down next to him and they began making their way down. The path was steep but remarkably free of rubble. In fact, the whole structure seemed quite well preserved, given how little the locals seemed to care about preserving it. It wasn't until they reached the coliseum itself and had to make their way inside through a dark tunnel that Chris lamented the lack of a flashlight, and only then because he would have liked to see what might have been written on the walls and not out of any fear of tripping over anything. When they stepped out into the center of the coliseum, the moon was just peeking over the edge of the structure. Chris picked his way through the rubble littering the arena floor to the circle at the very center, where his bracelet was picking up the strongest energy readings. After a few moments, he dug into his coat and pulled out a tablet to work on instead. His bracelet was fine for leading him here and taking preliminary readings, but it would be much easier to do anything else with something a little bigger. "Anything I can do?" Gauche asked after a couple minutes. Chris glanced over. Gauche was leaning back against the doorway where they'd come in his his arms crossed, looking extremely bored. Chris gave him an apologetic look and turned back to his tablet. "Not that I can think of. I apologize for making you wait; I'll try to go quickly." Gauche grunted, and Chris heard his boots shift on the ground. Chris tuned him out—or tried to—so he could focus. He sank into what probably looked like a trance from the outside as he slowly walked around the arena gathering data, his gaze fixed firmly on his tablet screen. He only glanced up twice, when he passed by where Gauche was standing—and of course, Gauche was watching him, though at least he was also looking less bored. Around and around he walked, robotically stepping around rubble and over dangerous cracks, until he had finally covered the entire arena floor and he made his way back to the center to take a few more readings of the energy accumulated there. Clearly, this was where the Numbers had been, before they had dueled for it. But its energy wasn't quite like any of the Numbers he had dealt with before. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to get into the last two sets of ruins, so he didn't have any data from them to compare it to. Perhaps at the next place… "Almost done?" Gauche asked, startling him out of his trance. He had good timing, though. "Mm, almost," Chris said, double checking a couple more things. In fact, it was more than "almost"; he could probably start heading back over now— Something like a wire looped around his wrist. He jerked and glanced down to find a glowing red line leading between his wrist and Gauche's. A very familiar glowing red line. It wasn't something he had ever used himself, but his brothers…and Kaito, of course… "Didn't think Kaito was the only one to have one of these, did you?" Gauche said with a grin as Chris stared at him with wide eyes. "I hadn't thought about it," Chris said, though it didn't surprise him at all now that he was. The surprise came from being anchored to him so abruptly. "But why…?" "I want a rematch," Gauche declared. He tugged the Duel Anchor slightly; the red glow broke away, leaving the thread invisible, but Chris could still clearly feel it wrapped around his wrist. "Just us, no weird rules or gimmicks getting in the way. If you're leaving tomorrow, this is the last chance I'll have, and we've got a pretty good place to do it here, don't you think?" "I thought you wanted to go back to the hotel," Chris said. His fingers trembled as he tucked his tablet away anyway. It took every ounce of self control not to seem too eager, not to just brazenly declare that he also wanted that, that he would duel Gauche until dawn if that was what he wanted. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he was disappointed he didn't get to see Gauche duel in the tournament, but no matter how much Gauche had praised him earlier, he also didn't think Gauche would want to duel him again. He hadn't exactly been thrilled about it last time. Of course, he also wanted to go back to the hotel at some point. He also hadn't been lying when he said he'd wanted it from the moment Gauche had let slip how eager he'd been to see him again. Despite what Gauche seemed to think, he hadn't even tried to wipe that brief encounter during the WDC out of his mind, he just hadn't thought it meant anything. It wasn't supposed to mean anything. Finding out that it had, actually, meant something… But they weren't at the hotel, they were here, and Gauche was demanding a duel, and there was absolutely nothing else Chris could think of wanting more right this minute. "If you're not leaving 'til tomorrow, we've got plenty of time to go back to the hotel after," Gauche said with a grin. "Well, I can't exactly decline, can I?" Chris said with a smile of his own. He yanked his wrist backward, causing Gauche to stumble towards him with the sudden jerk of the Duel Anchor. Gauche beamed at him with the most enthusiastic, elated grin yet and scrambled to get into position. Chris had to look away from him while he also got into position and activated his D-Gazer and Duel Disk. That was…really very cute… Gauche's enthusiasm waned somewhat as the duel progressed. His deck just did not pair well against Chris's, and his more straightforward style of dueling didn't either. It was inevitable he'd feel some frustration. But it certainly didn't stop him from trying, and he had improved enough to make it interesting. He actually managed to deal some damage this time. In the end, though, it was Gauche who went flying backward into the ground as his lifepoints ticked down to zero. Chris let his D-Gazer and Duel Disk dissolve away as he walked over, and he felt the wire around his wrist disappear as well. Gauche was still on the ground when Chris stopped next to him, with an arm slung over his face. "God, your dueling is annoying," he grumbled, somewhat muffled by his sleeve. "Yes, but it works," Chris said with a faint smirk. He reached his hand down to help Gauche up. "Here." Gauche peeked out over his arm. With a groan, he leaned up a bit on his elbow and reached up to take Chris's hand. Then he yanked, and suddenly Chris went stumbling down on top of him. "I can't feel satisfied by a duel like that," Gauche said, although he was looking so pleased with himself that it was hard to imagine he was upset at all. "What are you going to do to make it up to me?" Chris very nearly rolled his eyes at his theatrics—and the fact that this still was not Gauche's hotel room—but the feel of those hard muscles under his fingers and thighs was doing wonders toward making this particular scenario extremely appealing. "Hmm? As the winner, shouldn't I be the one getting the reward?" Chris murmured. Gauche laughed, and in an instant, had rolled them over so he was the one kneeling over Chris. "You're absolutely right." He caught one of Chris's hands and brought it up to his mouth to nip at the heel of his palm. Chris shuddered and moaned as Gauche's tongue and teeth sent sparks up his arm and down his spine. After a moment of feeling absolutely useless, he grabbed Gauche's coat with his other hand and yanked him down into an actual kiss. Gauche's grip tightened on his hand briefly, then he let go, as Chris had been hoping. Even better, his fingers immediately got to work on Chris's coat, swiftly undoing the fastenings holding it closed. Chris hummed softly into his mouth; there was no hesitation at all, so clearly he remembered how it worked from last time. How many times had he replayed that encounter in his head for him to remember it that well? Chris waited until it felt like he was almost done, and then tugged Gauche's coat over his shoulders and then a little more to make it clear he wanted it off. Gauche obediently sat back and let his coat slide to the ground. Then he frowned down at Chris and started folding up the coat. "How far are you planning to go?" Chris asked as Gauche carefully slid the makeshift pillow behind his head. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the gesture—far from it, with the ground as hard and rocky as it was—but he hadn't thought they would be here that long. Gauche shrugged and leaned down again to kiss Chris's exposed neck. "You don't have anything to, uh…'ease the way', do you?" Chris snorted very lightly as he tilted his head to the side. "Do you really think I'd be carrying something like that?" "Not that far, then," Gauche murmured against his neck. "And we'll have to get something on the way back to the hotel." "Yes," Chris agreed immediately. Gauche paused in kissing his neck, and then chuckled and very swiftly redoubled his efforts to nip at every bit of skin he could. Chris tried to keep his breathing even and started skimming his fingers over Gauche's chest and shoulders, absolutely refusing to feel embarrassed by seeming that eager. He'd decided hours ago that he wanted to sleep with this man; what point was there in being embarrassed about it now? Although they would probably need to discuss who, exactly, was going to be on the receiving end here, because Gauche undoubtedly thought it was going to be Chris. …If he was being honest, Chris didn't mind the idea all that much. But he was also quite fond of the image he had been presented earlier of Gauche on his back… "Then we'll need to try not to make a mess," Chris said, pointedly reaching down to palm Gauche through his pants. Gauche groaned and his hips jerked against the pressure. "You and your messes," Gauche said with a breathless laugh. "I guess we could do that again." Chris hummed in agreement and continued caressing Gauche's chest with one hand and rubbing his other against his crotch. Gauche fingers trembled slightly as he tugged Chris's shirt out of his pants and smoothed a hand across his stomach. Chris bit his lip and shifted under the attention. God, he did not appreciate this enough last time, be it Gauche's hands on him or the tense muscles beneath his fingers. Granted, he hadn't exactly been in the mood then to really appreciate anything other than seeing Faker destroyed… Gauche knew exactly what he was asking for, but it seemed an eternity before the firm touches on his stomach began moving downward. It seemed another eternity, while Gauche returned his attentions and his pants grew uncomfortably tight, before Gauche finally shifted like the rest of him was about to move down there too. "Wait—" Chris tugged on Gauche's arm to get him to stop, and then twirled a finger in the air as he went on, "Better idea. Turn around, so you're facing my legs." Gauche stared at him for a moment, and broke out into a shaky grin. "Much better idea." He scrambled to get into the right position. There was a brief moment when Chris was concerned he was about to be kicked in the head, but Gauche settled back on top of him without any complications, his knees on either side of Chris's head and his groin right above his face. Gauche made quick work of getting into Chris's pants. Chris soon gasped and jerked his hips as Gauche's mouth closed around him. Gauche firmly pressed down on his hips, making it absolutely impossible for him to keep moving them, and enthusiastically—god, was he this enthusiastic last time?—worked his mouth around Chris's cock. Chris was a bit slow to reciprocate, now matter how enticing the bulge above his face was. What he really wanted was to continue to fondle him through his pants until Gauche was begging him to just get on with it—but the idea here was to keep either of them from having an embarrassing wet spot when they went back to town, and that would certainly not be the way to do it. Meanwhile, Gauche was making it very difficult to want to focus on anything other than just lying there trying not to squirm. Chris finally reached up to undo his belt and pants and leaned up a bit— Or tried to, but he couldn't quite get as far off the ground as he wanted before his hair stopped him short. Chris glanced over—his braid lay out next to him, where it wouldn't be an uncomfortable bump under his back, and Gauche had manged to pin it to the ground with his leg when he’d knelt over him. Chris took in a deep breath—he suddenly felt very hot and very out of breath—and pushed down on Gauche's back so he would lower his hips a bit instead. As he leaned up again, he was still stopped short, but at least now it was only once he was able to take most of him into his mouth. And then Gauche's hips jerked and sunk down even more. It didn't take long for him to feel like this wasn't the best position to be doing this in, at least not for him. Gauche seemed to be fine, as he worked his tongue in a way that had Chris moaning around his cock (although Chris couldn't guess for the life of him how he was managing to keep hovering over him when his own legs felt like jelly). Chris found that he needed to hang onto Gauche's back to stay close enough, and his cock was pleasantly heavy on his tongue but otherwise felt somewhat awkward compared to last time. Of course, last time had been the first time he'd done this, so he didn't have a whole lot to compare it to. All too soon, he could feel Gauche trembling as he tried not to just thrust down into his mouth—and just thinking about that tipped Chris over the edge. Moments later, Gauche groaned and his hips did finally jerk down as he came hard down Chris's throat. Once they had both regained their senses somewhat and weren't panting so much anymore, Gauche rolled over to lay on the ground next to him while he recovered. His hand scrabbled along the ground until it found Chris's, and he held on to it loosely, with his thumb slowly brushing back and forth across his knuckles. They lay like that in silence for quite some time, until Chris wondered if Gauche had fallen asleep. It wouldn't be so bad to fall asleep out here. The ground was hard and rocky, but the air wasn’t too cool and the moon and stars in the sky above them were breathtaking out here beyond the city lights. He just didn't relish possibly having someone stumble across them in the morning and demand what they were doing there. He really was surprised no one was here to study the ruins yet. "Chris," Gauche said eventually, nearly startling the life out of him, "you said you guys are keeping an eye on Yuma, right?" "That's right." "Will you tell me if he ever needs more help? I tried to get him to let me help while he was here, but he didn't want me to abandon my dream. But I can't just abandon Yuma either…" Chris smiled and curled his fingers against Gauche's hand. "I'll keep in touch. I'm sure we'll be able to use your help if the Barians heighten their attacks." "You better not just be saying that," Gauche grumbled. "I don't intend to disappear again," Chris said. He sat up and grabbed Gauche's coat to hand it back to him. "Shall we go back to the hotel?" Gauche scrambled to his feet so fast he nearly toppled over again. Chris couldn't even hope to keep an amused smile off his face as he let Gauche help him up as well.

#Zexal #zexalfic #Contrastshipping #chris arclight #Gauche #fanfiction #tron family

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