#it seriously shouldn’t be there. the objects are IMMOVABLE. by hoping like this i am hurting myself. lawl 🤸🏻‍♀️

[pepprs]

im actually fucked like for real. lol

[praphit]

A message from Reverend Candyman

Before I even entered the theater, I was mad. I was mad due to certain people on social media stating that this film is "too woke", "super-woke", "BLM propaganda", etc, etc.

I'm not saying that they're right or wrong, at this point, but how did those people not know what they were getting into? Did they not watch any "Candyman" films before this? Do they not know of Jordan Peele's previous film productions? Have they never seen any of Key & Peele? It's mostly race stuff!

Some of them were probably only hate-watching. There a re a handful of pundits I like to hate-watch. Sometimes, getting heated by their takes fuels my work days. But, I know what I’m doing to myself... *smh* but these people.

I didn't stay mad for long though, because Nia DaCosta, the director of "Candyman", is on point! This whole movie, strictly from a cinematic view, is very cool. How bout that?? "The Rambling Praphit says Candyman is VERY COOL." :) She'll be working on the next Capt Marvel movie. 

Most people did not like that movie (I'm excluded from that crowd). Marvel is so scared of the public's dislike of that movie, that they're not even calling it "Capt Marvel 2". It's just called "The Marvels"; leaving the first movie's "captain" as far away from the title as they could. I bring this up, cuz after watching "Candyman", I have high hopes for "The Marvels".

In the trailer we see some shadow puppet type action going on to tell Candyman's story.

So, if you haven't seen the 1992 film, you can get mostly caught up. A creative way to knock out exposition.

They still didn't get into why Candyman rocks a pimpish coat. Or why he's called "Candyman". I mean... they address the name, kinda... (Razor blades in candy - also seen in the trailer) but there's a bit of a hole in the timeline of that story. Plus, how would Candyman (a vengeful spirit) even have the time or patience required to put razor blades in hard candy? If he were an actual pimp named "Candyman", it would make more sense... but anyway...

The main character (Anthony, played by Yahya Adbul Mateen II) 

needed more of Candyman's story , so he went into the depths to find more horror, and he found it. Now, there's a white woman, who's the main character in the 1992 version, who does the same thing, and... let's just say things end poorly for her, and Anthony is foolishly following in her footsteps.

He's a broke visual artist, but thankfully he's got himself a suga mama (played by Teyonah Parris) , 

a not-so-broke art gallery director named Brianna. Lesson number one, you broke artists - gym membership. 

Follow the path of Yahya. He’s the only hard candy mama needs! Keep that suga mama money coming to fuel your art.

I appreciate this couple though - a lot of times (in movies) we see black couples where the woman is struggling to feed the kids with like 3 or 4 jobs, while the man juggles cheating on her, being involved with drugs, and dreaming of one day being the greatest rapper there ever was. We've been there and done that with black movie couples enough.

But, Candyman can't allow this couple to be too happy, so the killing begins!

Say his name 5 times! He dares you! After the fifth time, he appears to brutally kill you. What kind of game is that? I could see if it was a 50/50 chance - win some money or die, but straight up 100% death? Who would play such a game?? 

"Let's go to the top of a snowy, slippery mountain. Let's slide down it with crazy speed and immovable objects in our way." Who’s game?

(white people)

"Let's take a detour through the woods, at night, right pass the area where those teenagers were murdered, LAST NIGHT... I don't think they ever caught the perp. Oh, well... let's go!" Who’s going?

(white people)

So, who will play the candyman name game? - white people, of course :)

I heard someone say that Candyman is only killing white people. That’s not true #1, but #2 - they’re the ones mostly playing this game.

No, this isn't just some movie about a black, pimpish, man with a hook, killing white people. We've got story as well.

Three parts to this story, actually:

The look -

Which I mentioned is great! The gruesome horror elements and the killings are well done. In fact, the kill scenes are so good that I wanted to see more of it. A lot of the kills effectiveness come from NOT showing you the gore. There's plenty gore as well, but the balance of times when you have to imagine what's happening as people scream is also dope.

The horror part to the film is kinda slowed down though by the social commentary. part to the film: The 1992 film has this as well, but it's more subtle, and flows with the story better. This... well, I can see why some hyper-sensitive conservatives might cry "wokeism!" I disagree with their sentiment, but I get it. If this movie had come out before 2020, perhaps the feeling would be different. There's a scene that's directly addressing gentrification. It's a group of four people (three black people and a white dude) talking. The movie shows how the seemingly enlightened and likable white dude was involved in the convo, but still didn't really get it. Perhaps that's how they see a lot of their audience with this, cuz there's no subtlety going on here at all. It's more of an "F U" at times. It's effective hate-watching though.

Lastly there's the psychological part to the movie. Something has clearly gone wrong inside of Anthony, and no one seems to be taking it all that seriously.

Something is also wrong outside of Anthony as well.... as seen in the trailer, he gets stung by a bee. One of those Candyman Bees! (Not a thing, but it should be) It's... maybe... infected (they never really explain), and gets worse and worse. Why doesn't anyone demand that he go to the doctor?! Not even his suga mama says anything! You know damn well, that no matter how sexy one may be, if you've got some sort of creepy Candyman infection, that's gonna mess up that sexy-suga-money flow, y'all feel me?? And if there is some sort of ghostly infection, shouldn't we be more scared of the bees than even Candyman? He only appears when you say his name! The bees on the other hand...

I guess it's kinda real though - I could certainly see people these days getting "the candyman infection" I speak of, and saying proudly "It's not real! And I will NOT be treated!" while waving a flag, with their clearly infected hand.

These three parts collide, sloppily. It's funny, cuz the film, as I said, is heavy-handed with hot topics, but the story (particular in the third act) will confuse you. I mean, I get it, cuz I saw the original film, but had I not... ??? There's a scene when Candyman is summoned and he proceeds to kill a bunch of cops. THEY didn't even summon him! They said “Defund the Police” not kill’em!  Idk if Candyman had been listening to nothing but Louis Farrakhan and Marvel’s Kilmonger nonstop during 2020, and it's all spilling over or what?? Some people are overachievers. Then he says "Spread my message" What message is that?!

Imagine if you say my name 5 times, and I appear in your kitchen, drink all of your beer, walking into your living room, and pee in the corner... then I say to you, before disappearing "Spread my Message".

You'd be like "What the hell?"

Despite this movies' flaws, I still enjoyed it. The social commentary really is important to the times we're living in, and should still be discussed, and not just discussed, by acted on. Plus, I truly am impressed by director Nia DaCosta. I do recommend that you see it, but you should probably watch the 1992 one first. Or who knows what message you'll leave with :)

Grade: generous B-

I doubt that there'll be a sequel, but if there is one, i really do hope that we can finally get to the bottom of this name thing. With Candyman, I'm still thinking drug dealer. It's not that scary of a name. Maybe CandyHOOK! Hooks wielded by maniacs are always scary.

No? Yeah, it does make me think his hook is made out of candy.

With the bees involved, perhaps "Bee Guy", or "Bee King", but... they're not really his thing. Plus, that's lame, and kinda sounds like he's buddies with Ant-Man. That could hurt his street cred. The 1992 film gets into a honey type of scenario as to the etymology. But, then, it should be "Honey Man", right? - that sounds kinda like a gigolo though. But, perhaps this is a good thing! That gives me an idea that could add some surprise to this whole name game thang! Call his name 5 times and either receive drugs, murder, a confusing sermon, or sweet, sweet lovin. Now, that's a game!

[olivinesea]

Space Is Only Noise If You Can See, pt. 2

Part 1

a/n: Even slower than normal, sorry! There’s a lot going on in my world and it turns out it’s rather exhausting to be evil. All the same warnings apply: major character death, guns, blood, violence, suicide, etc. This train is only moving in one direction (straight to hell). ~2.8k

The nightmare continues.

That night he called Emily. It hadn’t been planned. In fact he had been hoping to have someone else call her, fill her in on the tragedy. That way he knew she would get the truth and not the distorted reflection of facts bounced around by his mind. But when he woke up in the middle of the night, breathing hard after yet another repetition of the nightmare, he decided he needed to call Emily. She needed to know and and he needed to hear her voice. Maybe her familiar words could chase away some of these ghosts. The coffins were getting closer all the time and he was almost certain he saw someone pushing them in his direction.

It was 3 am and he had barely slept at all. He went to the kitchen for water and checked on Jack before sitting back down to call her. He pulled his knees into his chest like an overgrown child and waited for her to pick up. She was grouchy even though it wasn’t all that early for her. She was always unreasonable at what he considered very reasonable times of day. When she saw his name flash across the screen, she wasn’t worried about the timing because she knew he didn’t sleep well. She had stopped trying to keep track of when he should be asleep years ago, the math making her dizzy with how small the number of hours he’d reliably rest seemed to be.

“What do you want now Hotchner?”

It was a game they played with one another. A false severity, all business. Seeing who would crack first. They both missed each other badly, each having been the other’s anchor through so much, but they tried not to say it. It only hurt more.

He felt bad that he couldn’t warn her this wasn’t a normal call, that there was no play in the gravity of his voice. He held his breath while he decided what to say first.

“Aaron?” Her tone immediately took on an edge. Damn her, she was so attuned to him, even four thousand miles away, she knew something was wrong without him breathing a word.

“Spencer is…Spencer died,” he managed to stutter out.

She didn’t become frantic, a quality he had always appreciated about his closest friend. She was quiet for a moment before prompting him. “How?”

He shook his head, it still didn’t make sense to him. He had brought home the report, hoping that the clearly typed details, the stomach-turning photographs, could convince him. That their fixed structures might settle his mind.

“We’re not sure. He just…they found him in the river. It looks like he jumped sometime early Sunday.”

She was silent. Of all the possible responses, that was not one she would have guessed.

“And…” he trailed off, not sure if he could tell her about the phone call. He hadn’t told anyone yet. He selfishly kept Spencer’s phone with him, checking it every couple hours to see if anything had changed, if his memory was betraying him, again. No one had questioned him about it.

“Did he leave a note?” Leave it to Emily to be practical. They were all so dazed, reliving the last days, weeks, trying to remember something that they overlooked. Surely they wouldn’t have missed something so large.

“No, not that we’ve found.”

“Well,” her seriousness now very real, “there could be another explanation then.”

“Em…” He was already weary of this conversation started with JJ. He didn’t think he could expend any energy trying to convince Emily as well. Not when so much of his effort needed to go into making sure he was on the right page, the right date, the right series of events.

“Think about it.” She was blunt. “Reid would never go without an explanation. He couldn’t. He can’t keep his mouth shut. It wouldn’t be possible for him to just leave everyone without some kind of goodbye.”

He waited, not contradicting her. It made sense, what she was saying. But he didn’t know if it was only because he didn’t want to believe the alternative. He also didn’t know what that would mean. If Spencer hadn’t taken his own life, who had?

“Well, we are still waiting on a full investigation. Either way, we’ve lost him.”

“Will you be handling the investigation?” she asked.

“No, not this time,” he replied. He had already bent the rules too many times, both recently and over the entirety of his career. There was no urgency to this, no immediate threat, no one to save. What had happened was over, the pain was irreversible. There was no reason it had to be them formally digging into the details of Spencer’s last days.

“I’ll be on a plane this afternoon. There’s a few things I need to take care of but I can be there by tomorrow.”

“Emily, that’s not necessary.”

“Like hell it’s not. Aaron Hotchner you are not going to deal with this alone.”

“Thank you, Em,” his response was quiet, fearful even. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the slithering doubts in his mind from her, not if she was there beside him. The things he had worked so hard to hide from the others would be exposed once she got ahold of him. He just hoped she knew how to rebuild as well as she knew how to burn it all down.

*

The next day they gathered in the round table room. Everyone was on edge, clearly having gotten little sleep. Hotch told them they could take time off if they need. He’d informed the director that they were unavailable for the next week at least, there was nothing urgent for them to do. He wasn’t going to force them one way or another, he knew they all had different ways of coping. They filtered out of the room aimlessly with glazed expressions. Hotch ducked his head and returned to his office.

About an hour later he looked up from his papers to see Morgan leaning on the doorframe. He gestured an invitation to the chairs opposite his desk. Derek sat heavily, pulling at his collar like it was too tight.

“Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, they both knew it.

Morgan shook his head, restless. “I just don’t get it Hotch. Why wouldn’t he come to us? Why wouldn’t he say something to me?”

Hotch looked at Morgan sadly, noting the sense of betrayal in his features. “We can’t know what was going through his mind Derek. No matter how much we know a person, we still can only see what they let us see.”

He met Hotch’s eyes, confusion plain. “He told me everything. He—“ Morgan stopped, obviously fighting back emotion. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Hotch nodded, “I know, I’m not sure it ever does. But the police are looking into it, we’ll have their report soon and then we can figure out next steps from there.”

“We should be doing that,” Morgan’s voice gained more of its usual strength, spurred on by the thought of strangers pawing through Spencer’s things.

“No,” Hotch’s voice was firm, “we all need time to process this. None of us can be objective, no matter how much we wish we could.”

“He wouldn’t like it.” Morgan sounded helpless.

“I know, but it’s the right thing. He would want the truth, this is the best way to get it.”

Derek’s shoulders slumped, he was too drained to fight with Hotch really.

“Why don’t you go home? There’s no reason you have to be here, no reason any of us has to be here. It might help to get away from all this,” Hotch waved his hand vaguely towards the bullpen, still full of people who hadn’t just had the earth shift sickeningly beneath them.

Morgan didn’t respond right away and when he did look up, there were tears threatening to escape his eyes. “I know he didn’t do this.”

Hotch just nodded sympathetically. He didn’t think Spencer did this either but he didn’t know how to explain that just yet.

“Go home, Derek.” He said it gently but it wasn’t a suggestion.

Morgan rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand and exhaled loudly as he stood up. He nodded tightly to Hotch before leaving the office. Ten minutes later, Hotch watched him heading down the stairs and through the busy office, people discreetly stepping out of the path of such obvious heartache.

*

The following day was more of the same, the end of Reid’s life an immovable checkpoint in time. JJ stopped by his office on her way in, asked him how Jack was doing. She didn’t ask how Hotch was, she knew any answer she got to that would be a meaningless fabrication. Hotch looked a little guilty upon hearing the question.

“He doesn’t know.”

“What? Hotch, you have to tell him.”

“I know, I just, I don’t know what to tell him.” Hotch leaned back in his chair, looking at the pen he held. “He’s going to ask questions that I don’t have the answers to.” They all do. Somehow he has fooled them into thinking he was someone with answers, someone who fixed things. They would be terrified to find out wrong they were.

“He’s not a little kid anymore, he’ll be more hurt if you lie to him.”

“It’s not lying, and I believe I know what’s best for my son.” He was angry for a brief moment, all the stress of what happened had worn down his normally tight control. He immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice, could see how JJ had shrunk back a little. She was only trying to help. She was in the same pain as him, the loss echoing through their lives, tearing at tender scars that never healed fully. He sighed.

“I’m sorry, JJ. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She waved him off though the words still stung. “Have you talked to Morgan? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“No, he’s taking some time. I don’t expect he’ll be in for a few days at least.”

She hummed, pleased at least one of them was able to step away. “I’ll check on him later, see if he needs anything.”

“That would be great, thank you.” He hoped she knew the depth behind those two words but they never seemed to carry the weight they should. JJ was always doing things to take care of the team, picking up pieces no one else noticed had fallen.

*

Morgan was not answering his phone. The first missed call didn’t bother her. He was probably doing something, maybe he’d gone for a run. The second missed call felt a little unusual. They were all so attached to their phones, always waiting for the next case to come in. It was unlikely that he was without it. Maybe he had turned his ringer off, ensuring that he had the space he needed. The third time she called without answer she had reached a state of full blown worry. Morgan was reasonable, he was thoughtful, he wouldn’t just disappear on them. And yet, he and Reid had been so close, always flirting and bickering, Spencer’s usual rules about personal space melting whenever it was Derek crossing the line. He wasn’t thinking clearly just now. She tried but couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t. But she needed to see him, to confirm his wellbeing. She decided to stop by his place on her way home. She could bring him some dinner. She doubted he was up to cooking for himself.

After picking up his usual order from the burger place near work, JJ drove to Morgan’s house. She still hadn’t had any luck reaching him on the phone. Her heart was racing and it felt like the air had suddenly become heavy, requiring incredible strength to drag into her lungs. He didn’t answer the door either.

She slipped through the side yard, searching for another way in. She pounded on the door and called his name. It came out sounding like a sob. Leaning her forehead against the door, she told herself to calm down, to think logically. She almost laughed when the thought of kicking in the door crossed her mind—picturing Morgan swiftly getting them through all manner of locked entries. She knew she wouldn’t make a dent in this door. Morgan took too much care in the details of the homes he lived in. The door was solid. She’d need another way in.

She paced in the yard, wishing she had a key, wishing Derek would just answer his stupid phone and she could calm her anxiety and head home. She glared at the door, so stubbornly closed, keeping her out specifically. She wondered if he had a spare key and was about to call Penelope to ask when she spotted it. One of the windows was cracked open.

A key would be easier but she could work with a window. She was too impatient to put an end to her worry so she stepped through the bushes that lined the perimeter of the house. She was able to pop the screen of with a little effort, then slid the window all the way open before pulling herself up and through. She ended up on the kitchen counter and dropped down to the tiles. Her palms were covered in a layer of grime and she brushed them against each other to get it off. Breathing a little hard from the effort, adrenaline ran high and made her overly sensitive to the quiet permeating the house. She wanted to call out for him but something stopped her.

She crossed through the kitchen and froze when she reached the doorway to the living room. At first she couldn’t process what she was seeing, random details refusing to connect in any kind of discernible order. There was a smell, so familiar but so out of place here, a home she’d brought her children to and laughed over too many glasses of wine in. The bitter metallic scent clawed its way into her sinuses, making her eyes water. It was dark and the shape on the floor was so crumpled it could have been a pile of blankets. It could have been if it weren’t for the even darker pool surrounding it, dragging the light inwards, velvety in its lack of reflection. She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling the pressure against her lips. There was a scream lost somewhere inside her, winding its way up as the tumblers fell into place, unlocking the meaning of what she saw.

“Derek, no!” The words barely made a sound. She moved closer, willing this to be a mistake, a trick of the light, there had to be some other meaning to this scene. But there wasn’t. She got close enough to look right into his unseeing eyes, still fixed on the ceiling beams, the thing he stared at as his life spilled out and pooled around him. Automatically her fingers fumbled for his pulse, one final hope to contradict the reality of the too obvious bullet hole. She kept looking into his eyes, trying to avoid seeing the damage that had altered everything else about his face. Nothing. She backed up, stumbling against the table behind her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, couldn’t even fully understand what was happening. Derek Morgan, the strongest, bravest person she knew would never be in this position, laid out with a gun in his hand, no fight left in his body. The voice in her head tried to whisper its triumph; I told you so wrapping itself happily around her shock.

“No,” she said aloud. “No.” As if that tiny syllable could have any effect on the on the matter. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, hands shaking. She called the only person she could think to call, the only person who might be able to fix this.

“JJ?” Hotch was concerned when he picked up to silence. It was unnerving, too similar to Spencer’s mute call days before.

All she could do was breathe and hope the words would come to her soon.

“JJ, what’s wrong?” Silence. “Say something Jennifer!” The rise in his voice made a shiver run through her, just enough movement to get her vocal cords working.

“He’s dead,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

Hotch didn’t say anything immediately. He couldn’t, the memory of Morgan’s blood on his hands, on his face overwhelmed him. He was filled with horror by the knowledge that he had done this.

She repeated herself, louder this time.

“I’m on my way. Call 911.”

He was already halfway out the door, not realizing he hadn’t asked if she was safe before hanging up.

~Park 3~

[bgn846]

One Giant Warp - FFXV Promtis

         Summary:            

Noct wants to show Prompto how he warps, how hard could it be? Very hard, like the wall he just threw himself into attempting to demonstrate.  However, the one nice side effect of his miscalculation is Prompto fawning over him.  Maybe he should throw himself into walls more often. a.k.a. Noct likes Prompto and doesn't know how to tell him.

--

It turns out the old adage of keeping your eye on the ball wasn’t just meant for sports. The same reasoning applied to warping. This fact made itself known when Noct decided to risk a quick glance over at Prompto. The prince had wanted to ensure his friend could see the feat he was about to perform.  Sure, his best friend was paying attention, and subsequently got to watch as Noct slammed himself into the wall of the training room.  One small note of comfort being, no one else had been there.  

The feeling of pain was first and foremost in his brain as he writhed on the floor.  Thank the six, the walls were covered in mats. Though he was pretty sure they weren’t meant for warping into. Noct was dimly aware of the floor vibrating as Prompto ran over.  His frantic shouts also helped clue Noct into his approach.

“Noct! Buddy! Oh em gee please tell me you’re alright?!” Prompto yelped in a panic.

Only able to manage some sort of guttural sound in acknowledgment, Noct reached out his hand to grab Prompto’s arm. Squeezing firmly he held on in hopes the gesture would calm his friend. Typical to Prompto, it didn’t work.

“Dude, shit, are you dying or something? Why are you holding me like that? Say something I don’t know what t--.”

“M’fine!” Noct blurted. “Hurts, give me a minute.”

“Did you break anything? If you did then you shouldn’t move. How’s your neck feel? What about your back?” Prompto rapidly fired as his blue eyes darted to and fro. “When you said you wanted to show me how you warped, I didn’t think you’d do it so forcefully!” he finished with a wince.

The shock of literally throwing his body at an immovable object was wearing off, and Noct attempted to roll on his side, albeit slowly. Thankfully, nothing twinged and the only part of his body that was starting to throb was his head. A headache he could handle.  Having to explain why a potion was missing later due to a broken bone wasn’t something he’d been looking forward to.

He knew he’d never be able to say the real reason why due to certain people like Ignis being able to see through him in a heartbeat. That was the only issue with practically growing up with someone, they knew all your tells.  Fibbing to Prompto, on the other hand, was easy.  Not that admitting he’d merely been trying to show off for his secret crush would work well either.

Noct simply had to survive this moment and move on, or rather move up. The floor was very comfortable right now, and the idea of even attempting to walk wasn’t sounding promising.  Fighting gravity combined with relearning how to balance was the least of his worries. He already knew he’d need Prompto’s help getting back home. The prospect of having to hang onto the blond was proving to be a worrying thought.

He didn’t mind being close to Prompto, quite the opposite, he wanted nothing more than to stay close. Having a crush on your best friend was fun and torturous all at the same time. Resigned to keeping his fantasies in dreamland Noct focused on trying to sit up.  No need in delaying this process any longer.  He needed to rest and forget this ever happened.  However, when Noct did sit up the room spun.  Guess he’d hit his head harder than he thought. Muttering a curse under his breath Noct clamped his eyes shut and reached out for the nearest thing to steady his movements. Prompto’s warm and slightly clammy hand enveloped his a second later.  Right, he forgot, Prompto was the nearest thing.

Laughing nervously to detract from his now equally sweaty hands, Noct began rambling. “I’m fine, really, it’s all good,” he lied opening his eyes once more.  Big mistake. Prompto’s blue eyes were right there, brilliant and bright, staring straight at him.

“You don’t look so fine, buddy. You sorta look ill.”

“You try throwing yourself at a wall and see how you fair.”

“Not funny, you didn’t see it from my perspective, or hear the noise either.”

“What noise?” Noct asked bewildered. “Did I yell?”

Prompto huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. “No, dude, the noise I’m talking about is when your body hit the wall. It sounded like a sack of potatoes dropping.”

“Oh, yeah it wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

“We should get you to the clinic or something, just in case.”

“Huh? Clinic? Six, no, I’m not going to the doctor.  I’m fine,” Noct defended while attempting to stand and promptly grabbing his friend for support.  Stupid head, spinning around and making the simple act of standing an issue.

“Whoa, I gotcha,” Prompto supplied as he slung Noct’s arm over his shoulder.  “I know I just started crownsguard training but I’ve already learned about first aid,” he beamed proudly.   “Which means we need to go to the clinic.”

“Seriously Prompto, I’m good, I’m not gonna go,” Noct tried again as they hobbled along to the door.

“I’m not going to be responsible for killing the crown prince of Lucis because I let him bully me.”

Noct scoffed, “I’m not dying, my head hurts I need to sleep it off.” This statement got Prompto even more animated.

“Your head hurts? Shit, dude, that’s worse. You shouldn’t go to sleep.”

Noct was about to tell Prompto that he was perfectly capable of reading his own injuries when an idea struck. If he needed to stay awake then this was a perfect excuse for them to spend the rest of the afternoon and night together. Prompto slept over all the time but always used the guest room if he hadn’t already fallen asleep on the couch.  This time Noct had a valid reason for him to share his bed.

Impressed by his own cleverness Noct voiced his brilliant idea without pause. “Why don’t you keep an eye on me then, make sure I don’t pass out or something worse.”

“I’m already doing that dummy, and I’m going the extra mile by taking you to the doctor.”

Thinking fast Noct remembered that Cor might still be around. “What if Cor clears me? Would you accept that instead of the doctor? He’s got a medic certification too, remember?”

Prompto pouted but eventually nodded. “I trust his judgment, but I still think you’re being a baby.”

Noct waved Prompto off with his free hand motioned for them to go in the direction of Cor’s office. Needless to say, Cor was not amused by his appearance five minutes later.  The man took one look at the pair of them and scowled. “Noctis, why do you have a rather painful looking bump developing on your forehead?”

“I hit the wall with my head, but that’s not what’s important right now. Can you make sure I’m not going to die so Prompto won’t make me go to the clinic?”

Taking a deep breath Cor stood from his desk and sauntered over. “I warned you not to take your eye off the ball.”

This time Noct scowled and gave Cor a look that he hoped would stop the older man from pressing further. “You can’t even warp,” he grumbled.

Cor hummed in agreement, “I still saw your father do plenty of stupid shit, so I know the principle behind the magic.”

“Yeah, yeah, am I okay? You’ve seen real dead people before so you’ll know what to look for.”

“Noct, shut up,” Prompto whispered. “He’s the immortal for six sake.”

“Yes, I know,” Noct hissed. “That’s why we are here.”

Cor took all their comments in stride and if Noct was being honest he would swear Cor had a slight smile on his face. After some cursory questions about how he was feeling and Cor examining his head, he was given the clear to go home. A stern warning to call if anything changed was given out as Prompto steered them out of office once more.

The next challenge on the long, terrible journey home was transportation. Noct knew he shouldn’t drive, and he was not going to call Ignis for a lift. If he could keep this little accident a secret it’d be even better. Ignis wasn’t even scheduled to visit later. If Noct played his cards right he’d have Prompto all to himself for the whole night.

Convincing Prompto to drive the car back to his condo was tricky.  Noct laid out how terrible it would be if Ignis showed up, and how degrading it would be if Gladio found out.  They were best friends this was a moment between them, and them alone.  Noct was babbling and he knew it, but it worked.  Prompto finally took the driver’s seat and slowly navigated them to his place. Noting to never ask Prompto to drive again Noct focused on staying upright on the walk to the elevator.  Having someone to lean on was immensely helpful; otherwise, he was sure he’d have fallen over in the parking garage.

Curse living on the ninth floor, the elevator made his head throb painfully and he wasn’t about to take the stairs. Prompto noticed immediately when he sucked in a labored breath once the elevator began moving.

“You’re still feeling awful aren’t you?”

“I’m not in pain if that makes you feel better.  My head still hurts, but not anything unbearable,” he added quickly.  Prompto might take this admission as a sign of weakness and decide to call Ignis or something worse.

“Cor said to make sure you ate and to take it easy, let’s focus on that for now.”

“We can order pizza!” Noct exclaimed making them list sideways. This using his crush as a crutch was great.  Maybe he would stay ‘dizzy’ for a little longer. He was starting to enjoy this moment for all the wrong reasons.  Noct wasn’t even sure if Prompto liked him back that way. Asking that question of his friend though was another matter entirely. Noct didn’t want to risk losing one of the best things that had happened to him.  Prompto’s friendship had been a relief from the mounting daily pressures he faced.

Ignis and Gladio always had his back but this was different, Prompto didn’t come from their world. He wasn’t familiar with all the pomp and circumstance of being a royal. They were friends because they got along and had fun together, nothing more and nothing less. Noct was loath to ruin such a great thing by offering up his true feelings. Something about ‘hey I like, like you’ felt like a good way to seriously rock the boat.  Things were smoothly humming along; there was no need to destroy a perfectly good friendship.    

Lost in his own thoughts about how nice Prompto’s body felt Noct didn’t notice they’d reached his front door. It wasn’t until a hand began patting his pockets did he realize the issue. Prompto wanted his keys to get in.   “Huh, sorry, they are in my other pocket,” he offered sheepishly.

“Well then, we gotta switch sides for me to reach them,” Prompto announced right before ducking out from under his arm and moving. The sound of jingling keys erupted soon after.  

Noct was about to whine at being jostled until Prompto’s body pressed up against him once more. Smiling like an idiot he leaned further into his friend.  Unfortunately, his timing was terrible, and Noct merely made them both fall forward. The newly unlocked door swung open forcefully, and Prompto barely had the strength to keep them both upright.

“Dude, warn me when you’re gonna do that!”

“Sorry, you feel really good,” Noct murmured sleepily.  It wasn’t until a healthy blush developed on Prompto’s cheeks did Noct pick up on what he’d said.  Shit. This was bad. “Ya know like ah, um--,” he trailed off completely at a loss for words.  There wasn’t really a good way to explain away what he’d just said.

“You should sit down, I’ll order food,” Prompto quickly cut in as he looked everywhere but Noct’s face.

The walk to the sofa was deathly quiet as Noct desperately tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind. Prompto eased him down gently a minute later and then disappeared like his butt was on fire. Groaning at his own inability to function like a normal human Noct leaned back and stared at the ceiling, resigned to drown in his own insecurities.    

--

Prompto’s hands were shaking by the time he made it into the bathroom.  Noct’s apartment was open in the main living area so he couldn’t seek refuge in the kitchen.  He also knew he couldn’t stay in here forever. He needed to keep an eye on Noct and hiding in here wasn’t the way to do it.  His mind was still reeling from the simple comment his friend had made.

‘You feel really good’ was a benign statement in of itself, but combined with all the soft smiles and other things Prompto had noticed recently, it took on a whole new life. Maybe he hadn’t been imagining all of it before.  Maybe Noct liked him as more than a friend.

Pulling his phone out he called the one person who might be able to give him some advice. Prompto had wanted to let someone else know what had happened, just in case they needed help later, despite Noct’s protests.  He wasn’t about to put his friend in harm’s way.  Suddenly worried he opened the bathroom door and looked down the hallway.  Noct’s fluffy head of hair was still visible over the couch.

He was about to wander closer to really check when Noct’s hand came up and touched his fresh bruise.   Thank the six, he was still okay. Going back to his little haven, Prompto hit the call button and waited.

Gladio picked up on the third ring. “Hey Prompto, what’s up?” he asked jovially. “We didn’t have a training session today, did we? I thought it was on Monday.”

“No, no, you’re good I uh just need to tell you something real quick.”

The shield must have picked up on the stress in his voice due to his next reaction. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Where’s Noct? Is he hurt? Are you hurt?”

“Whoa big guy, calm down, I’m fine.  Noct’s mostly fine. Cor checked him out if it makes you feel better.”

“What do you mean Cor checked him out?”

Prompto had to cover the speaker on his phone for fear Noct might heard Gladio hysterically laughing. The tale of Noct’s great warp strike to the training room wall was very funny to him. After Gladio had quieted down again he continued. “So yeah, I wanted you and Ignis to know, so you could like be prepared if something else happens. I felt like it was the wise thing to do considering the circumstances, and the fact that he refuses to go to the doctor.”

“Okay blondie, I’ll alert Ignis and make sure he promises to keep his mouth shut.  I appreciate you callin’ You’re a good friend to Noct, he needs more people like you in his life.”

Gladio’s comment made Prompto remember the other reason he’d called.  “Uh, so you were also right about the other thing.”

“Huh, what other thing?”

“The thing you relentlessly tease me about when I miss a move in training. The thing about Noct like, liking me and being to chocobo to admit it.”

“Seriously?! What’d he say?”

“Nothing much but I think hitting his head has made him a little loopy.  He’s super relaxed and saying things and hanging on me.”

“You gonna tell you like him back?” Gladio asked.

“Should I? I don’t want to ruin things.”

“You’re not gonna ruin anything. Noct likes you, just tell him and see how it goes.  I’d suggest you not try to ya know do anything tonight, he’s injured after all but talking about stuff is fine.”

“Oh em gee too much info Gladio, I’m not gonna jump him tonight, he needs to rest.”

Gladio laughed again but there was no malice behind it. “Go back and sit with him. You’re hiding in the bathroom, aren’t you? I can tell by the echo.”

“Yes!” Prompto hissed. “I got nervous, shit, I still need to order pizza.”

“Hey, calm down. Go sit with him and I’ll order for you. I can use his account to pay and then you can focus on making sure he’s alright.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Sure kiddo, you’re my friend too.  Besides, I know what you two like to eat.  Go check on him; make sure he’s not passed out or somethin’.”

“Okay thanks, Gladio.”

“No problem, call me straight away if anything changes. It sounds like he needs to rest and take it easy for the weekend.  I’ll let Ignis know so don’t worry about that either.”

“Alright, I’ll keep you posted. Thanks big guy.”

Pocketing his phone once more Prompto opened the door to check on Noct. His friend was still in the same spot and moving his arms around like he was having a conversation. Expect no one was there.  Wondering if he’d gone temporarily insane Prompto slipped out into the hallway and listened.   Sure enough, Noct was talking, but after a second Prompto figured out he was simply talking to himself.

The dialog was all over the place. Noct was berating himself for being stupid and messing everything up. What in the hell was his friend going on about? Not wanting to see Noct act so self-deprecating Prompto ran back into the room. “Hey you didn’t mess anything up,” he chided while coming to a stop next to the sofa.

“You’re still here?” Noct exclaimed with a pained look. “I thought maybe I’d messed up so bad you’d snuck out.”

“You’re such a dork, I’m not gonna leave. I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it.”

“Oh, you’re not mad at me?”

“Dude, how hard did you hit your head? No, I’m not mad at you.”

‘Sorry,” Noct mumbled as he looked away and stared at the floor.

“Sorry for what? Pizza is on its way and we get to hang out for the rest of the night and watch movies and like uh, you know be idiots together.” Prompto offered with a smile.

“What kind of pizza did you get?” Noct asked with a pout. “I’m hungry.”

Unable to stop the burst of nervous laughter from escaping his mouth, Prompto blurted the first thing that came to mind, “It’s a surprise buddy. You’ll love it don’t worry.”  

“Okay, I trust you.”

“So ah, how’s your head feel now? Is it still pounding?”

“It’s getting better, but I think I’ll be glued to the sofa for the rest of the night.”

Sitting down next to Noct, Prompto gathered his thoughts. He wanted to talk to Noct about how he felt, but he wasn’t sure right now was the best time. Gladio’s words flashed through his mind at that moment. Prompto should try and talk about stuff. He didn’t think he was reading the signs wrong, Noct sure seemed like he was interested in him.

“Um, what did you think you’d messed up?” he asked finally.

“Huh?” Noct whispered as he settled down into the cushions further.

“You were saying something earlier about messing up, what did you mean?” Prompto was sure Noct’s face was turning pink. That had to be a good sign. No one would blush if they didn’t have feelings to admit. Noct looked stricken; he clearly wanted to speak but couldn’t seem to find the energy.  Time dragged on as Noct stalled.  Gladio has been right, Noct was never going to say anything first. Prompto couldn’t believe he was about to do this but his friend needed him, now more than ever.   Taking a deep breath he voiced his own feelings in hopes it would prompt Noct into revealing his own.

“You--you felt good too,” he managed through the lump in his throat. Noct didn’t immediately react. Prompto watched as various emotions played across his friend's face. Noct was confused at first; it was an odd statement to make when they weren’t actually touching. It was understandable that he’d be wondering about the context. Then, in a flash Noct turned his head and looked at him with wide eyes. He’d figured it out, hopefully.

“Say it again,” he demanded, but not in a condescending way.

Licking his lips Prompto gathered what little bravery he had left and repeated his comment, “you felt good too.”

“You mean it?” Noct checked as he leaned forward and gripped Prompto’s arm. “I didn’t destroy our friendship?”

“Is that what you thought would happen?” Prompto exclaimed. “I’m always gonna be your friend. I don’t know what life would be like without you buddy.”

Noct instantly relaxed and flopped back into the sofa, “I was so worried I messed everything up.”

“What? By telling me how you really feel about me?” Prompto asking hoping this might bait Noct into saying more.

“I’ve had a crush on you for soooo long, I just didn’t know how to tell you,” Noct admitted with a relieved look.

“Were you trying to impress me with your warping abilities?” Prompto queried with a smirk.

“Maybe, but don’t tell anyone else that! I don’t wanna get yelled at for abusing my magic just to impress someone I like.”

“You’d already won me over the moment we met.” Smiling at how that made Noct blush even harder Prompto continued on. “I’m flattered that you were willing to risk life and limb to impress me, but next time, tell me how you feel.”

Noct laughed and winced immediately afterward, “Shit, oh man I gotta take it easy tonight.  That sucks.”

“Sounds kinda nice actually.”

“We could be trying out so many different things tonight, but I can’t even stand up without the room spinning.”

The true meaning behind what Noct had said, sunk in a second later. Oh, damn he was referring to those kinds of other things.  One idea did come to mind that they could do. “So, we can always cuddle until you feel better,” Prompto suggested slyly.  “Ya know, and then later we can do some other uh, stuff.”

Prompto didn’t have much warning before Noct slumped to the side and tackled him in a hug. “Thanks, buddy, falling asleep against you sounds really good.”

“Hey, no sleeping yet, you need to eat.” The sound that came as a response didn’t sound like the English language. Had Noct already zonked out? “Dude, no come on wake up!”

“Sleeeeep nowwwwww, pizza laterrrr.” Noct mumbled as he began to rearrange them on the sofa.

Prompto patiently waited until Noct was fully sprawled across his chest before he pulled out his phone again.  He needed to send a text to Gladio but he was waiting for the inevitable. Noct falling asleep.

However, once Noct had stilled he took a breath to speak. “Why is your heart racing?”

That was an easy one to answer. “We just confessed that we like each other more than friends and now you’re lying on top of me.  Why do you think my heart is racing?” He questioned jokingly. “I’m excited and nervous, and happy all at the same time.”

“Sorry, my macho display delayed our fun.”

“Honestly, I’m okay taking things a little slow. I like what we are doing right now and maybe later after dinner, we can uh, you know, try kissing?”

Noct giggled like a freaking two-year-old once he’d finished talking. “We can kiss now if you want.”

“Nope, gonna make you wait since you laughed at me.”

“Hey, I can’t help it, you sounded really cute.”

“I’m not cute bro, I’m manly just like you.”

Noct laughed again even moved his arm to hit him in the shoulder. “Fine, you sounded really handsome and strong. How chivalrous of you to wait on my account, so as not to spoil my virgin body.”

“If you weren’t injured right now I’d have shoved you off on the floor already. You should thank me for being so nice to you.”

Snorting and groaning in pain Noct stilled again. “Stop making me laugh. I gotta take it easy remember?”

“Sure, buddy,” Prompto drawled out. “You’re taking it easy, and picking on me at the same time. I don’t think that should be allowed.”

“Okay, truce, I’ll stop until I feel better.”

“Deal, but I’m gonna fight back once you get better too, don’t forget.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Noct asked indignantly.

“If you pick on me I’ll retaliate.”

“How? You can’t hurt me I’m the crown prince.” He offered haughtily but Prompto could tell Noct was teasing.

“I have my ways. I know someone who’d be more than willing to tell me where you’re ticklish.”

“Iggy wouldn’t betray me like that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Shhh, enough talk about that, lets enjoy this moment before the food gets here.”  Noct went so far as to cover Prompto’s mouth with his hand to silence him. One well-placed lick of his tongue had Noct crying out in disgust. “Not fair, no licking.”

“Ever?” Prompto asked coolly.

“Never!” Noct replied but he seemed to realize what that might imply and quickly changed his tune. “Licking s’okay,” he nearly whispered a second later.

“I thought so, but that’s for later remember.”

“M’sleep nowww.” Noct hummed.

Prompto let Noct rest this time.  Once his friend's breath had evened out, he texted Gladio to get an ETA on the food. For once the Friday night rush meant the hour-long time was actually welcomed, considering his current situation.  Gladio had of course asked how it went and Prompto was happy to reply that they’d confessed their feeling to each other.  He was graced with a thumbs-up emoticon and a smiley face.

Putting his phone down Prompto hugged Noct closer and rubbed his back. He was going to make sure they had the best weekend ever! Happy to simply be with Noct and hold him Prompto drifted off until the door buzzed.  The night was just beginning as was their new relationship.  Prompto couldn’t wait to have more adventures with Noct.  So long as he didn’t throw himself into a wall again!

AO3 Link

[inquisitorhotpants]

A Simple Request

Kryn understands her sisters’ wishes.

She also understands that sometimes her sisters are too close to a situation to really see the situation properly.

This won’t be the first time - and she doubts it will be the last - that she’ll creatively circumvent something one of her sisters has asked her to do (or not do), but she has to admit that this time is one of her better efforts to cover her tracks. If this comes off the way she’s hoping, the Wrath will be none the wiser.

Kryn touches a series of keys on the holocommunicator on the wall, waits for a figure to shimmer into existence.

“Majesty.” Hesker’s blue figure inclines its head, though Kryn doesn’t miss the flash of surprise on his face. “How may I serve?”

“I would speak with you at Tsyaira. Could I have a few minutes of your time?”

There isn’t even a moment of hesitation. “For you? Always.”

–

The sitting room on Tysaira’s first floor is large enough for two separate seating arrangements, and Kryn quickly took to reclining on the long couch facing the window, often with a cup of caf on the table in front of her and a stack of holodiscs or occasionally holocrons at her side. This evening is no different; she’s curled up under a vivid white blanket - a gift from Semiri - with her hands wrapped around her caf cup, watching the intermittent rain run down the tall windows in front of her.

“General Hesker, Majesty.”

While Zon will observe casual rules when her only audience is Kryn and Marr, she has not once refrained from using official titles when announcing guests, giving Kryn a whole speech about appearances and maintaining the Empire’s dignity when pressed, much to Marr’s approval. (Kryn is sure this is why Ca'ii has dropped in more often lately, as she finds it hilarious watching Kryn squirm under the weight of enforced rules.)

Kryn looks up, smiles when she sees Hesker’s tall silhouette behind Zon. “Send him in.”

Hesker steps through the doorway and offers a rather perfunctory bow. “Majesty.”

“Leave us, Zon. If I need anything, I’ll summon you.” The last thing Kryn needs is for her seneschal to be swept up in her particular subterfuges, and Zon quickly learned when Kryn wants her within earshot and when she doesn’t.

The Falleen bows and retreats, closing the main doors of the sitting room behind her.

Kryn stands, makes her way over to the large window looking down on the rest of Tsyaira. Lights from the Estate House, the staff housing, and the guard shacks break up the darkness, far enough away that Tsyaira maintains a aura of remoteness. Sometimes they feel far enough removed from Kaas City that she second-guesses the decision to build out here; tonight she welcomes the privacy. “I have a matter of loose ends that I would like to tie up.” A pause, long enough to be meaningful. “Discreetly.”

Hesker crosses the room, looks down at her profusion of curls. When the normally forthcoming Kryn gets cagey, Kryn is up to something. “I assume you’re going to give me either more details or a holofile with assassination information.”

She chuckles, looks up at him. “Would you do it?”

“It depends on who it is, and why you want them assassinated.”

Unsurprised by this answer, she steps closer, pulling a small datapad out of one pocket. “You’re not very far off. I have to be circumspect about this. What if I said I had a candidate for the Imperialis, but I want him to have an … accident? It’s a real shame, and we’re certainly not the Imperial Guard, but sometimes these things happen.”

“No.” Hesker folds his arms across his chest. Whatever he’d been expecting, this was not it. He’d rather she have handed him a personally-requested assassination; after all, he’s not a stranger to such things after his time in the army. “Undertaking something like that on my own for you is one thing. I will not weaken my authority in the Imperialis in the same manner. That body must remain free of political machinations.”

“I’m the Empress. I can command you to do it.”

“Not this.”

Kryn recognizes immovable stubbornness when she sees it; time for another tactic. The hard line of her mouth relaxes, and she skims her fingernails along his bared arm, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Are you sure? I can think of quite a few things I can command you to do, Andrus.”

He tucks her hair behind her ear. “You’ve hardly ever had to command me in that arena, Majesty, though the few times you’ve done so have been quite memorable.” A thought occurs to him, given where he is and who Kryn is now. “I do feel obliged to inquire as to whether the Emperor is aware of this…particular line of questioning.”

“Naturally,” a familiar, dry voice says from somewhere behind them.

Hesker looks over his shoulder toward the shadowed area behind them; Marr pauses at the bottom of the stairs, having just come out of the training room. A datapad with a screen full of scrolling metrics glows in his hand. “The Empress is free to pursue her own entertainments; I would hardly tie her down in such a manner. Though I suspect her private amusements are secondary to why she called you here.” When Kryn nods but doesn’t elaborate, curiosity flashes across his face. “Should I ask?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Marr nods. “I’ll see you when you come up,” he says, before turning his attention back to his datapad and heading up the stairs.

Hesker looks down to where Kryn’s hand is still on his arm. “Why don’t you tell me about this supposed candidate of yours, and why it is you’re so anxious for him to fail training?”

“He’s a major.” Kryn scowls. “If I felt like being fair, he wouldn’t be the worst candidate aside from the fact I would never trust him with my safety.”

Hesker raises an eyebrow. “That’s a fairly significant reason for someone to not be in the group entrusted with protecting you.”

“Which is why I wouldn’t want him to succeed,” she says with a withering glance upward. “If you forget, I want him to fail in the most egregious way possible.”

“Going to tell me why?”

“He broke my sister’s heart and I want him dead but she made me promise I wouldn’t kill him.”

Hesker isn’t without sympathy - if he was in her place, he can’t say with certainty that he wouldn’t make such a request himself - but he must remain objective when she is under no such stricture. "So instead you want to misuse my organization - that I swore I would keep above the petty squabbles of the Empire - to kill him.”

“Misuse is such an ugly word. More like … borrow. And I could accept drumming him out of the military in disgrace as an alternative.” She turns her palms up. “I’m not an unreasonable woman.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I made an oath, and I will not break it. Not even for you. Especially not for you. Being unduly swayed by the emperor or empress is precisely what got the Guard into the mess it was in. I cannot - will not - repeat those mistakes.”

She sighs, turning back to look out the window. “You disappoint me.”

“That isn’t fair, Kryn, and you know it.”

She mumbles something under her breath.

“Tell you what.” He reaches over, fingertips light on her jaw, and it doesn’t take much pressure to tilt her head back up to him. “As you know, I do live to serve. I’ll give you one free command - that is not that command - to make up for it.”

“Just one?”

“You asked for one, so I’ll give you one in compromise.”

It takes longer than he expected, but a slow grin blooms on her face. “What I’m thinking of would require at least four. I suppose I’ll just have to use my one for a kiss.”

“I suppose I can admit that’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He bends as she goes on tiptoe, their mouths meeting. She slips an arm around his waist, splaying her hand on the small of his back, under his shirt, as he combs his fingers into her hair.

Kissing her always feels like coming home, even if he knows it shouldn’t ever be more than that, not anymore.

When they pull apart, Kryn brushes wheat-blond hair out of his face. “Can I talk you into allowing me another command? Or two?” she asks, coquettish. The teasing smile slides off her face as she studies his serious expression. “What is it?”

“I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” He turns his hands up. “I didn’t get this post because of our previous liaisons. I hope.”

Kryn’s peal of laughter is loud in the silence of the sitting room. “As if Marr would allow such a perversion of ideals and standards. Have you met him?” She shakes her head. “Besides, I wasn’t thinking about fucking you in the middle of the gardens.“ A pause. “Well, not seriously, anyway.”

He nods. "I know. But people talk. And I don’t want your role - or mine - diminished because I am on occasion a weak man who let you too far under my skin and sometimes misses your company.”

“You’re being awfully recalcitrant on a great many fronts this evening, Andrus.”

“I do hope you’ll forgive me.”

The corner of her mouth quirks upward. “You know I will.“

"But?”

Kryn grins; he knows her entirely too well. “Only if you kiss me one more time.”