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k1nky-fool · 3 years ago

Text

Between Regulations and Protocols

Part 1/?

Pairing: Thrawn x OC

m/f pairing

Rating: Teen

Warnings: bit of angst, introductions to characters and story.

Taglist: none yet. If you want to be tagged in future chapters, feel free to DM me or comment on this chapter.

It wasn’t as though she could have prevented this disaster. However, there were certainly moments which, in hindsight, could have been changed just by thinking through a decision with a wiser mind. By now, it was much too late, and the mess left in front of Ceka was as regrettable as it was dangerous.

For her at least, this was dangerous. She hadn’t meant for it to get so out of hand. As far as she was concerned one or two of the indulgences she allowed herself were fine. It was when these “indulgences” became so regular they might as well be the rule, that it began to be a problem.

Every time Ceka gave herself that allowance, every rule in the book ran through her head, making sure that none were being broken. As far as the book was concerned, crushing this hard on a superior was not forbidden so long as it was not acted upon and the individual in question’s work is not compromised.

There were rules for relationships. Probably because Ceka’s current predicament was not uncommon. Especially when one was serving under an officer as respectful and intelligent as Grand Admiral Thrawn. Feelings happened, and rules were in place. And while rules were not broken, Ceka could snake her way around them without even so much as bending them.

It was necessary with her situation. Long before she was ever harboring feelings for the Grand Admiral, Ceka had to claw her way to the top as a Togruta in a system that was clearly designed to cut those like her down.

Perhaps that was what drew her to Grand Admiral Thrawn in the first place. As shallow and rude as it sounded, him being a non-human, thriving in such a rigged system was astounding to Ceka. She knew first-hand what it takes just to get out of the academy in one piece. It took bone, blood, and tears just to get to her current position. It was probably another level of hell in reality to get to a position where people took orders from him instead of having to fight for enough recognition to be respected as a living being.

Of course the first thing she did when assigned as an ISB consultant on The Chimera was to do her research on her superior. Even if he wasn’t such a sight for sore eyes, she would have looked into him, just to get a map of the territory she was treading on. Ceka had served under her fair share of slimy bastards and downright war criminals.

Much to her surprise, he was almost spotless. A court marshall, but it wasn’t a severe offense, at least not to her. Above all else, nobody had anything very malicious to say about working under him. There were plenty of people who were conflicted, taking orders from a non-human. However, the vast majority of people, even Stormtroopers, had relatively nice things to say about working under him.

What they did say was that Grand Admiral Thrawn was a rather imposing presence. He ran a seamless ship, left little room for error so long as the crew did their work. It was said he was a ruthless strategist, which didn’t surprise Ceka in the slightest considering what she had read of him. He was intimidating, but very few had any elaboration on that comment. She didn’t see for herself until she was called into his office the next day. Ceka hadn’t the slightest idea of what he wanted.

Entering his office was damn near surreal. Ceka hadn’t met anyone in Imperial High Command that held such a collection of art. And especially not such a diverse lineup either. Everything from a Mirialan statuette of a goddess she couldn’t name, to a segment of a durasteel wall covered corner-to-corner in generations of graffiti, to a Clone’s painted helmet from the war it was so known for. The Grand Admiral, himself, was nowhere to be found.

Right away, this struck Ceka as odd. The art was the lesser of two analyses in her mind. She had been called over her wrist comm to meet Grand Admiral Thrawn in his office, where he is not currently present. If it were a prank from a superior officer for some hazing she was too familiar with, then it would have been a better move to call her here while the admiral was present. If it was indeed the admiral that sent for her, then there was a reason for this.

In interrogation, making the suspect wait was a tactic to put them on edge. And if that was the admiral’s goal, then it was working. But it wouldn’t do well to leave an unknown individual in your office, especially since she knew it was more than likely that he knew she was looking him up as soon as she got here. Letting her in here without supervision was a foolish move.

Unless of course, she wasn’t unsupervised.

Keeping her wits about her, Ceka began walking around the office, carefully observing everything in the room. To anyone watching, it would look more like she was admiring all the art on display, when in reality, she was scanning over every surface in search of anything that might be a recording device. If it’s sending a live feed, then it’ll be in something that can easily conceal wires or large enough and shaped well enough to hide an antenna to transmit the data to a screen somewhere.

She mentally cleared a random painting, and the durasteel graffiti wall. A few of the sculptures could barely fit enough material in them to remain standing, so those were cleared too. The Mirialan statuette was too small to hide anything. And it would be easy to see the mechanisms of a recording device inside.

More suddenly than Ceka would have liked, she stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to the clone helmet. She felt stupid as soon as she noticed it; this particular helmet was outfitted with a recorder by its visor. They were used to record and review battlefield footage in the Clone War. The antenna on the helmet and the device itself fit the categories to send live feed to a holoscreen somewhere. “Very subtle, Grand Admiral. I wish I had noticed sooner, but if you were looking to challenge me, you certainly did a good job.”

A door on the side of the office hissed open, revealing the man that set up this whole charade. “Not one new crew member has deduced the design of the test until now. Most giving in to impatience long before they attempt to find reason.”

“You do this with every new crew member?” She asked.

“Everyone assigned to The Chimera ranked Lieutenant or higher.” He said. “However, as mentioned, you are the first to realize you were being observed. Let alone to find the device I was watching from.”

Ceka wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about that. She was half certain he was complimenting her, but there was also a chance he was just thinking out loud about what he had observed. “Seeing as I am an ISB agent, and in charge of interrogation, I would hope I know my way around observation tactics.”

“You have found a place where your talents are put to good use.” He said, “However, I do find myself rather curious about you.”

Ceka moved to the space in front of his desk as he moved behind it to take something out of one of the drawers. "I'm more than happy to answer any questions you have." She said.

"I will keep that in mind." He noted, pulling something up in the holoprojector. It was just about every file The Empire kept on her. Every mission, every report, every personal file, and even her academy registration. "Much like yourself, I did my research when you were assigned to The Chimera. I must say, your talents are exemplary, yet based on the impression you made when faced with my test, your files do not add up."

Clearly the lack of reaction from her made him all the more interested. In truth, she expected he might say that. "What specifically do you want to know?"

"Agent Lo, I am no stranger to the ruthless ends humans will go to in order to assure they are not upstaged by someone they deem less than themselves." He cut in. "Yet you have managed to reach your current rank without any recorded incident. Not even so much as uniform code violation marres your record."

"I consider myself an upstanding agent." She said, as though to tell him respectfully to get to the point.

"Then tell me, Agent, why is it you actively dull any record of your success?"

"Sir?"

"I understand the need to blend in with your peers." He continued, "However every record that mentions an accomplishment of yours has been buried in unnecessary details; even your own reports follow this pattern."

Ceka could feel her throat tighten and her face heat as Thrawn observed her carefully as though he could see through her skin. He was indeed as intimidating as everyone had said. She had said she was willing to answer whatever questions he had, and now she wished she hadn't said that.

She forced herself to relax. "You said it yourself. I need to blend in with my peers. And you know better than anyone else what they're willing to do to cut me down should I rise above them." Ceka explained. "It's a method of survival, that is all. Remaining at the average minimizes the harassment I receive."

Thrawn considered her words. "Why minimize it?" He asked. "It would be far easier to simply retire from military service."

A small smile graced her face. There was so much more to her than just self preservation. "Because retiring is not my goal, sir."

"What is your goal, agent?"

There was the right question. "To make my home planet whole again." She answered without hesitation. "The Galactic Empire has redistributed the population of Shili to only major cities and tribes they had the ability to commit troops to. My tribe was among the many to be forced off their ancestral territory. My goal is to climb ISB ranks until I can bring to light that it is more dangerous to The Empire to force Togrutas off their homeland than to commit minimal troops to the smaller tribes."

"A noble cause, Agent Lo." He noted. "I have come to a decision. I expect you to take full credit for every successful assignment I give you. Should I find in any of your reports that you belittle your role in the accomplishment, the report will be rejected, and I will require a new one."

"Ah- sir, I-"

"That will be all, Agent Lo, you are dismissed."

Ceka opened her mouth to speak again, but the rulebook went through her head again. Disobeying orders was an offence one could be court marshalled for. But voicing disagreements were not prohibited, even though any officer would find a way to punish you for questioning orders.

However here, Ceka would risk it. "Indulge me for one more minute, sir." She all but demanded, causing him to once again pay close attention to her. "I understand what you're doing. You want me to step up; to be something greater than I am. Because after hearing what I am trying to accomplish, you believe you have a better strategy than I do."

Her words caught him off guard. She didn't give him enough time to recover before she continued. "I acknowledge that I probably don't have the best strategy. However, if you are going to require me to bend to your plan for my own life, then you're going to need a better strategy to get me to follow along." Ceka held her head high, and hid her nerves behind a strong voice. "Because if there is anything I know you have learned from your test and our minimal interactions, it is that I am patient, especially when I am being beat down and discarded."

"This is your way of telling me you do not intend to abandon your methods?" He inquired.

"This is my way of showing you the merits of my methods." She clarified. "And hopefully, I will change your mind."

Thrawn scanned her face once again, coming to some unknown conclusion. "It is unwise to reveal your end goal to the enemy."

Ceka offered a modest smile. "You are not my enemy, sir."

With that, she turned on her heel and made her way out the door. Ceka's heart raced and she had to make a solid effort to slow her breathing. Right then she promised herself that arguing with him would be forbidden from there on out. That was far too dangerous, and it was a miracle Thrawn hadn't cut her off and refused to hear her out. He could have her off The Chimera by morning. But even then she knew that this was an empty promise.

-X-

As it turns out, eighty-four was the magical number of rejected reports before Grand Admiral Thrawn finally gives in and calls you into his office to renegotiate the terms of his orders. It took twenty-eight days to reach this point. Every day, she would eat her meals and write out a new report to the same mission, even if Thrawn had yet to notify her that the last one was rejected. Ceka stood in front of his desk once again, as he flipped through all eighty-four reports on the holoprojector.

It was one single mission. An investigation into disappearing medical supplies from a medicenter on Pantora, that Ceka had figured out pretty quickly. But every single one of them was worded to shine the light of success into anyone other than her.

Thrawn must have been looking for something in the reports, but he was coming up empty handed. It was another brief moment before he shut off the holoprojector. "I admit, I underestimated your talent for persistence."

She couldn't have been more excited to hear that from him. In all honesty, it was wearing her out. Finding new ways to reword the same events was exhausting. "However, what you have shown me is something I did not expect to find." He said, now slowly walking around his desk to circle her. "My attempt to outsmart you was quickly turned into a challenge to outlast you. However, it has answered more questions about you than I could ever ask."

"I am glad the experience was illuminating, sir." She was careful not to appear smug or prideful in any way, even if she was rather proud of herself for this.

"What has come to light is exactly how you managed to remain unseen by those that wish to do you harm, yet impress those that you wish to be more visible to." He explained. "I would like to see you put this to use more often."

"What do you have in mind, sir?"

"To start, I will rescind my orders to take more praise in your reports." Thrawn said, causing Ceka to smile. "In light of your tenacity, I have another duty for you. As it is already one of your many tasks on my ship to assess the officers and troopers for information leaks, I would also like you to send me reports of those who rise above their peers."

Ceka was surprised to receive such a request from him. "Pardon me, sir, but can't you select your elite by looking at the reports yourself?"

"It has occured to me that you are far from the only officer under my command that hides behind their more obnoxious coworkers and modest wording in reports. Unfortunately, due to their efforts, it is difficult to find the more competent workers of my fleet." He explained. "You are in a particularly beneficial position to solve this problem. Seeing as you are not only interacting with the lower ranks of my fleet on a closer level, you also know what to look for in those that possess the same skill set as you."

"It takes one to know one." Ceka chuckled awkwardly, knowing exactly what he meant. Honestly it was a miracle he even saw her point of view at all. Let alone be open to changing his mind and instead giving her an assignment that they both agreed would suit her talents. "I can do that, sir."

"That is much appreciated, agent." Thrawn said, "You are dismissed."

Ceka turned to leave, but she stopped herself. Once again the rules made her hesitate. It might not be professionalism at its best, but she would give herself this allowance. "Oh, grand admiral, sir?"

Thrawn turned to face her once more. He was no longer a stranger to how bold Ceka Lo could be, but this time she wasn't angry. Instead, she smiled kindly. "Thank you. For giving me a chance." It was a split second, so fast she wasn't even sure it was completely real; Thrawn returned with a small percentage of a smile to her.

There was a faster moment that Ceka felt herself take a moment to recover, where her heart stuttered at the sight of him just smiling for a fraction of a second. However it was gone the moment she reminded herself where she was and who he was. "Sir." She nodded with a stern voice, bidding him goodbye before she marched back out the office door.

It was rare a superior gave her the time of day. And so rare to be given respect and a smile that Thrawn was the first to offer after many, many years of serving the Empire. Ceka held onto that image in her mind every time someone would say anything hurtful, or when someone would do something rude. She allowed herself to remember Thrawn gave her a chance to prove herself, and he respected her for it.

There were moments that she stood in his office again, whether it be for a strategy meeting or a PSA for the higher ranked officers, Ceka hoped to whatever god in the galaxy was listening that she might catch another glimpse of his smile.

He smirked quite often, she found. Not that it was very easy to notice those either, but once she was watching, she noticed. It was usually when he was explaining his strategy to his officers that his expressions were slightly more discernible. For the most part, he kept the same even tone, and strong, calculated glare. Red eyes kept up with every little detail going on around him, and Ceka had to wonder exactly which details he noticed.

Really at this point, Ceka found she looked for any reason to be around Thrawn. He was an island of peace in an ocean of exhausting people. But what really made her start to worry was when he probably figured out he was her island.

It was rather chaotic in the aftermath of an attack. The way The Chimera was run made the battle itself run like a well oiled machine. However, trying to get everyone on the same page, especially if there were significant losses, was pretty much hell.

One particular flight officer was being specifically infuriating. She just wanted to know how many TIE fighters they had left. Ceka did not need to know who was flying, and who came back, or why only four fighters could land properly. Cykla went off on another tangent about how they were going to need repairs before she finally cut him off. "Cykla, just tell me how many TIE fighters we have left in the fleet."

Despite her even tone, Ceka had murder on her mind and it must have shown on her face with how he shut up immediately. "Six."

"Great…" She hissed out. "Now I can go to my job and tell the Grand Admiral we need more TIE fighters. You are dismissed, Cykla."

He gave a curt nod, running off to do whatever the hell else he had to to get this ship running at full capacity again. Ceka busied herself punching the numbers into a slow datapad, being on the verge of throwing it against a wall.

"I take it Officer Cykla was being difficult." Thrawn's voice made her jump slightly, but the second her eyes landed on him, she gave a small smile, and she visibly relaxed.

"Just a little slow." Ceka chuckled, still trying to hit the datapad to get the damn number to punch in. "Which seems to be a running theme today."

"Is there something wrong with your datapad, Agent?" He asked.

"I dropped it off the hyperdrive room railing when the ship was first hit. Didn't have the chance to get it back until a few minutes ago, but it looks like a few people might have stepped on it." She explained, knocking it against her montral and hearing something make a pinging sound echo around in her head. That couldn't be a good sign. "Well, that's unfortunate. I have a few nostalgic files on this datapad."

"I am curious of what you might keep on a datapad that one would find nostalgic." He said.

"Oh, it was just a few of the Pantora Medicenter Investigation reports I never got to give you. I kept writing them until you told me I could stop." She shrugged.

"How many reports did you write?" He asked with clear curiosity.

Ceka actually had to think hard for a moment. "You gave up at eighty-four, but I had a few extras on queue. I wrote a total of one-hundred-two reports."

Thrawn usually did a great job of hiding his emotions, but ever since Ceka started paying close attention to him, she began noticing the smallest expressions he gave. Right now his eyes went to the side, as though he had to give himself a moment to process that information. There were eighteen more reports on that one mission. All of them ready to be rejected, where she was ready to write more.

When he did look back to her, Ceka was smiling again, now trying to stop herself from laughing. "Do you find something amusing, Agent Lo?"

She really wished she could say no. Usually when a superior officer asked that question it just meant to stop smiling and take things seriously. However it was not in Thrawn's nature to use many euphemisms or human sayings, so he was genuinely asking. "Yes, sir." She nodded, still smiling as she explained herself. "It's not all that difficult to read your expressions. And when I told you how many reports I had written it was like every gear in your head stopped turning all at once. I thought it looked a little uncharacteristic is all."

Thrawn became more interested in her words. "I have rarely heard that it is easy to read my expressions. In fact most say the exact opposite."

Now it was her turn to stop and think. How in the hells did she hope to explain this to him? Was she supposed to tell Grand Admiral Thrawn that he spent just about every moment of every day hoping to see him, or that if she did get to see him that she carefully watched him in hopes of seeing him smile again? No, that would be very bad. But lying to a superior officer was quite specifically stated in the regulation.

"I'm in ISB. I guess I'm just very good at watching for small details." Both statements were true. She didn't have to tell him that the two statements had little to no correlation in reality or that she was only good at watching him for close details. Everyone else she just knew how to interrogate.

A beat of a moment went by before she caught it. Another split second where he gave a genuine smile, only for it to be gone the next second. The instant that passed by in silence before he answered felt like an eternity. "Indeed you are."

His answer left Ceka more distressed than trying to figure out how to avoid confessing her every private thought to him. Did he know she was hiding something? Did he know all along what she was doing? She wanted answers, but nobody but Thrawn could give them to her. She was all the more terrified of what those answers might be.

Though, it was nice to come back to her cabin late that night to find a new datapad waiting on her desk.

She didn't see Thrawn for a while after that. Not one on one, at least. She would occasionally catch him in the bridge as she was doing rounds with all the stations. Though when Ceka looked over to him out of habit, more often than not, he would already be closely observing her. Every time he did, she would tense up again and focus back on her work.

The heart stopping call came later that week. Thrawn asked to see her in his office once again. She had no idea what this could be about, and nothing about the last week really stood out. And especially not since their awkward conversation.

Though, he didn't waste any time as soon as she entered the art-filled space. Right away, she could tell something was up. Thrawn had never looked so worn out, not even after talking to the lieutenants. "Agent, if you are not currently indisposed, I would appreciate some assistance."

"What do you need?" Ceka asked without hesitation. Either she would get this over with or she would have to prepare herself for a long task.

"There was an incident with a terrorist group on the planet surface this afternoon. Unfortunately, Commander Bengts is on medical leave for the next three weeks, and since you and I are the only officers left with the clearance and skills necessary to review the reports, we are the only ones to be able to complete the processing." He explained.

"Would these usually just go into filing? Unless there's something specifically abnormal about this incident?" Thrawn had already sent the reports to her datapad.

"Yes. According to several eyewitness accounts, an imperial officer was seen giving information and weapons to three of the attackers just before it began."

Ceka took a long breath, calming her nerves. It didn't help that she was already on shaky ground with Thrawn as she was still questioning if he was aware of her growing fondness for him. Good thing endurance was her specialty, otherwise she would have given up the first time he smiled at her.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she came to her choice. "This probably means they're waiting on some kind of information to pass on. They're not yet ready for a full attack, which is why they simply aided the terrorists and didn't blow their cover. By your estimation, how long do we have before such an informant gets their hands on severely damaging information?"

"Depending on their rank, approximately two days. In the next fifty hours, I will be receiving a transmission from the Imperial headquarters on the surface to account for the current number of troopers on guard and officers working." He answered.

Ceka took her datapad and began searching through the reports. "The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can sleep." She said. "Unfortunately, time is not something we have the luxury of."

-X-

-Thrawn-

"Let us start with who was present on the ground during the attack-"

"No, we need to start with who exactly these terrorists are, and what they were doing. What was their mission? How did they accomplish it? Where did they escape to after its completion? Or if they completed their mission at all." Ceka interjected. "We've been here on Wutellou for about a standard month. Start with the locals. What do we know about them as a people?"

Her interruption surprised him to say the least. To be completely honest, she hadn't ever stopped surprising him. However, Ceka had the right approach to the problem. He was certain she would just let him take the lead, but it was becoming increasingly clear that despite her near religious commitment to subtlety, when it came to him she was anything but reserved the way she was with everyone else. It was easy to see why Agent Ceka Lo had captured Thrawn's attention.

"Tellouans are a very spiritual people. They also place most of their values into unity and connection to one another and their planet." He explained. "The population seems to worship the ground, as a way of giving respect to the very thing that gives them the vegetation they grow for food and spiritual practices."

"That… sounds awfully familiar."

"I imagine it would." He said, pulling up a few sources on his holoprojector. "Watellou shares many similarities with your homeworld, Shili."

"However, they're largely vegetarians, from what I can gather. There aren't many animals big enough to eat on Watellou." Ceka noted, in a somewhat short tempered way. "So, they probably aren't as culturally focused on hunting as my people."

Thrawn noted how she grumbled about the lack of meat on the planet. It had occurred to him that Togrutas were carnivores, and unable to eat most of the food served in the mess. Though, he did make sure she wasn't starving, even though there wasn't a whole lot of good food for Ceka to eat. "You did say they hold a deep connection to their planet." She recalled. "So, it would be a fair assumption that they don't want the Imperial agricultural project on their planet, since it is so sacred to them."

"That is logical, yes." He agreed. "Which means their attacks are not likely to be carried out on a large scale, so as not to harm the ground."

"Let's take a look at the reports." She turned to her datapad, connecting it with the holoprojector. "The report of the soldier that saw what type of weapons were being smuggled said they were E-11 blaster rifles. However weapons were not the only thing given to the insurgents."

"The inventory report after the attack states several crates of empty gas canisters were also missing." Thrawn pointed out. "An attack utilizing poison gas would assure the land attacked would not be harmed."

One look to Ceka proved she was enjoying herself while digging for information. "Guess what the most poisonous plant on Watellou is." A smile cracked across her cheeks as she pulled an info file of a simple flower onto the projector. "The Osella blossom is a flower that is only found in the very few coniferous forests on Watellou. The one closest to where the supply warehouse was attacked is owned by a local businessman, who employs many people to gather these flowers. Oddly enough, four days ago, he reported that a large portion of his freshly picked flowers had gone missing."

Thrawn looked over the file on the flowers. "Only the roots are poisonous. The flower petals are dried and used for a tea that is very popular among the locals. Boiling the roots will secrete a poisonous gas known as Lesurra gas." He read. "We know the insurgents are planning a large gas attack. More than likely on the Imperial command center that has been established."

"So we know what they want, how they plan to do it, and because of the information you will be getting in the next two days, we know when they plan to do it." Ceka concluded. "Now we just need to figure out who is planning to leak that information to them."

"Now we must narrow down the list of suspects based on reports." He said. Ceka took a deep breath, finding a seat on his desk as she began reading through reports.

The low light of the holoprojector illuminated her more now that she was seated right next to it. The blue light did little to change the tone of her skin. It was rare that Thrawn met many Togrutas in his line of work, however, even Ceka was certainly something of a rare specimen of her species.

When Thrawn was researching her, he found that the specific shades of light blue that showed on her skin were only found in two clans of the Lo Tribe, and nowhere else on Shili. Ceka had a very soft appearance. Her age wasn't shown anywhere other than the length of her lekku, which placed her perhaps a year or two younger than himself. Her montrals rounded backward off her head and spiked back up like horns. The patterns across her skin were soft, bubbled shapes that spread all around like water.

But it didn't take a military genius to know she was so much more vicious than her appearance suggested. Particularly her deep violet eyes, that scanned everything as though it could give her something if she just convinced it of such. Ceka bit her lip in focus on the task at hand. She was quite brilliant, even if she was convinced her only talents were in enduring brutal treatment. Thrawn wanted nothing more than to show her that she had other talents that could help her never see such brutal treatment ever again.

In some ways Thrawn noticed Ceka's favor of him, though usually only through her demeanor. It confused him how she could manage to be both comfortable expressing herself to him and rigid the second he acknowledged her comfort.

In many ways, Thrawn saw himself being drawn to her. He rarely bothered to know his subordinates more than basic research, and in truth, Ceka was one of only seven people to ever peak his interest enough to give them the test she passed with such ease. Her response had only heightened his curiosity of her character. Even this was an opportunity for him to learn more about her. And every time he learned something new, his interest only grew.

This was indeed going to be a long night.

-X-

It had been nearly eight hours. Four a.m. galactic standard time. Every report from the warehouse had been looked through, and even people that weren't planetside had been looked into. Nothing looked even remotely suspicious.

"I don't suppose you've already ruled out the possibility that they had someone impersonate an officer?" Ceka asked with a dragging voice. She laid on her back on Thrawn's desk, staring up at the holograms that still hadn't given them a lead.

"You ruled that out three hours ago." He reminded her. "If I recall correctly, you said a Tellouan with a skin color and texture similar to a human's would be more rare than finding one with horns small enough to fit into an officer's uniform. I also agreed, stating that using an infiltrator would not guarantee they would be able to get the information they need for their attack."

"You're right." Ceka groaned, rubbing her eyes again. "Either way, we're running out of time. Forty-seven hours to find a traitor with no leads is damn near impossible."

"You say 'near impossible.' Is there something you believe would make the task at hand possible?" He asked.

"The ability to drink three gallons of caf in a minute would be helpful." She said, "More people to look through the reports would be useful. Many hands make for light work, after all, but alerting our subordinates that there is a traitor amidst them is too high of a risk. I think it's impossible to find the culprit in time with only two people."

Thrawn was impressed with Ceka in the eight hours they had spent together theorizing and even arguing at times. However, he would admit he would have never gotten this far on his own, this fast. Most of the investigation is credited to Ceka. It was his job to help her investigate, then come up with a plan once they had found their traitor.

"Agent, you are an exemplary investigator. If there is anyone that can accomplish this in the given timeframe, it is you." He said.

Suddenly, Ceka sat up. About a million thoughts looked to be passing behind her eyes before she settled on one. "Timeframe…." Her voice was quiet, as she once again took control of the holoprojector, still sitting on his desk. "We're looking at the wrong timeframe."

She pulled up personnel files from everyone who was planetside for the last four days. "Remember, four days ago, the report of a missing batch of Osella flowers was given by a local businessman?" She asked. "We know his own employee probably stole them, right?"

"That was the logical conclusion, yes." Thrawn agreed.

"First, what if the traitor isn't working alone?"

"Then I suppose only half of the information would be present in the reports of the warehouse attack. The other half would be with someone we have already ruled out, thus making it impossible for us to find the culprits on those reports, alone." He reasoned. "Who do you suspect?"

"Four days ago, Commander Bengts was hospitalized. The morning after the Osella flower batch went missing." Ceka explained with a smile on her face, searching for a minute before pulling up the commander's medical file.

Thrawn read the file thoroughly before landing on something that Ceka must have known would be there by the way she smiled. "Reason for hospitalization: Toxin inhalation." He read out loud.

He turned to Ceka once again, only to find her still smiling. "We can order a test for the Osella toxin and have the results in the next two hours."

"That only leaves her accomplice." Thrawn noted, searching through the reports again to see which officer specifically has been stationed with Commander Bengts for their assignment to Watellou. One name stuck out. "Supply Officer Cykla was planetside, stationed at the warehouse during the attack." He pointed out. "Cykla was also the officer that filled out the inventory report of what was stolen. And has also been assigned to the command center tomorrow to report inventory, where he will have access to the transmissions being sent from the command center."

Ceka placed her feet on the ground, standing tall, but a little wobbly from the sleep deprivation. "Shall I set up interrogations, sir?"

"No need." He ordered. "I will give the order to have Commander Bengts tested for the Osella toxin, and I shall reassign Officer Cykla to accompany me to organize the information from the command center. He will be forced to abandon his original plan and act in panic, giving us the evidence we need to incriminate him."

"I can help, sir. You don't need to carry this out alone." She was nearly pleading even if she could keep it behind a thin layer of professionalism.

"I am sure you can offer your skills to the mission. However you are sleep deprived, and until you are well rested, you would be unnecessarily placing yourself in harm's way if you were to continue like this." Thrawn reasoned. "As of now, you are relieved of duty until you have recovered."

"But, sir-"

"That is an order, Agent Lo." His voice became stern, but as he watched Ceka, she appeared to halted all cognitive thought as she suppressed a shiver. Thrawn noticed how her face became hot and the muscles around her throat tightened. He was unaware that Togrutas not only blushed on their face, but also their lekku.

Ceka had to force herself to breath again. "Yes, sir." Was all she could get out from behind tense muscles and a figure frozen in place.

"You are dismissed."

She marched off in a hurry, though Thrawn didn't get the impression that she was scared at all. In fact she seemed to be enjoying herself quite a bit.

Thrawn decided to focus on the task at hand. He had just barely learned the nuances of human behavior, he didn't have the time to figure out what made Ceka tick before his command center was eradicated.

-X-

-Ceka Lo-

After Thrawn had commanded her to get some sleep, Ceka was having a surprising amount of difficulty letting go of consciousness. There was a lot to process, particularly about how the entire night had gone.

She hadn't meant to so casually sit on his desk, though when he didn't stop her or even mention it, Ceka allowed herself to get comfortable. They had started the night speaking with formalities, though as time progressed and exhaustion began to take hold, she began interrupting him when she felt like it, as he would for her. She swore a few times without any shame. When she laid down on his desk, he didn't say anything. She took every liberty, and Thrawn gave them without any question.

But at the very end of it all, the order he gave her wasn't what surprised her. It was her own reaction to how he spoke. Heat shot up her spine and she stood at complete attention. What shocked her was that she honestly didn't expect to be given an order, despite everything Ceka had drilled into her head from day one at the academy. Somehow, she felt comfortable enough around Thrawn that it was a surprise when he did normal, imperial, things.

Though, even then Ceka knew this could only be the beginning of something terrible.

-X-

Somehow she managed to pass out after an hour. When she awoke again, everything appeared to be working smoothly. No trooper was out of place, no officer looked worried, and all was as though Ceka never fell asleep in the first place. Though, a quick look at her wrist chrono told her it had been nearly six hours.

Walking through corridors to Thrawn's office, she found something must be working well. There were two troopers standing guard instead of just one. "I take it Cykla is in there?"

"Yes sir." The command trooper confirmed. The other flinched when he spoke. Suddenly the other trooper was very interesting.

"Is something bothering you, trooper?" Ceka asked with a warm smile. She wasn't ignorant of her appearance. She was rather soft looking, and it was easy for people to underestimate her or trust her. Most people she interrogated were more likely to trust a non-human because of how rare they were in the Empire.

The trooper stood firmly at attention. "No sir." There was something off about his voice. Though, with two words, it was difficult to place.

"It's ok to be anxious. I'm sure anyone would be worried once they wondered why the grand admiral doubled the security in his office." She suggested. The trooper must have been eyeing her cautiously behind his helmet.

"I assure you, I'm fine sir." He said. Now Ceka could place it.

"You won't be." Before he could even flinch, she knocked the blaster out of his hand and rammed his head into the wall. The command trooper aimed his gun at the two of them, unsure as to what was going on. "At ease, soldier." She said, taking the helmet off the unconscious criminal, revealing dark green skin, and very small horns for one of his kind. "He was probably back up."

"How did you know?"

"His Tellouan accent." She said, restraining the prisoner. "Now I just need to see what his plan was. Take him to containment. I'll stand guard here."

"Yes, sir." He replied faithfully, throwing the infiltrator over his shoulder and carrying him away. Ceka pulled her blaster out, and set it to stun, now waiting for Cykla to make a break for it.

A loud crash came from inside the office, and the door hissed open. She stunned Cykla as soon as she laid eyes on him. Thrawn looked between Ceka and the man on the floor with mild amusement. "May I set up interrogations now, sir?"

Thrawn calmly caught his breath, wiping some of the blood off his cheek. "Yes, Agent Lo, that would be the wisest course of action."

...

Thrawn and Ceka stood together, watching the live feed from the two interrogation rooms, waiting for Cykla to regain consciousness. The Tellouan infiltrator nervously fiddled with the cuffs on his wrists, probably trying to find a way to break them off.

"Commander Bengts tested positive for the Osella toxin." Thrawn said, "She has been placed under arrest, but is still recovering."

"We'll need more evidence if we want to convict her. Getting one of these two to admit she's an accomplice should be enough, but I am not confident they'll talk for anything short of their freedom." She noted, looking at the two of them. Cykla was now gaining consciousness, frantically looking around the room and struggling against the restraints.

"Perhaps striking a deal with them is necessary."

Something was finding Ceka rather uncomfortably, and she wanted nothing more than to tear it apart to find out what exactly made it that way. It was Officer Cykla. He's panicking and struggling far too much for someone that had a decent plan until now.

"Perhaps not." She said, exiting the observation room and entering the interrogation.

-Thrawn-

Cykla was quick to stop moving as soon as Ceka entered the room. She didn't say anything as she sat down on the table to his left.

Thrawn couldn't see much from here, yet at the very least he could tell she wasn't trying to be imposing. She reached across the table and released his restraints, sitting back on the table comfortably and without any sign of defensiveness.

She was waiting for something. Pushing this man to the edge of something, but waiting for him to jump off on his own. Ceka remained silent. From the angle of the holorecorder, Thrawn couldn't see her face, but he almost intrinsically knew she was giving her subject a kind smile.

The silence must have become unbearable to the human. "What do you want, Lo?"

"I thought you'd never ask." She said, "You see, a witness at the scene of the attack yesterday saw you aiding the terrorists in their escape, but there's something that's gone completely unanswered, and I want you to give it to me."

"I'm not about to turn on my allies." He hissed back at her.

"Oh- no you aren't. Certainly not yet." She said, "At least not without a reason to. I happen to be in a position to get you just a year of community service, and a dishonorable discharge from the Imperial Navy. Where you can live out the rest of your life doing whatever you want."

"And what in the hells makes you think I value myself over my cause?"

"Why shouldn't you?" She asked as though she were genuinely concerned. "I've seen how much value your life has. And I believe it's worth more than being executed on a treason charge." Cykla broke eye contact and stared at the floor. "I'm not a fool enough to believe you don't have people you're doing this for. Wouldn't it be better to go home and see them again?"

Cykla came to his conclusion quickly. "I want to negotiate those terms." He said.

"Then negotiate."

"I tell you who my associate is, and I take the blame for everything." He said, "Everything was my idea, and she was forced to take orders from me. She gets to live."

"Cykla, you will be executed for this."

"But she won't." He stated. "I want this agreement in writing. So you can't back out after I'm gone."

"Your accomplice must mean quite a lot to you." Ceka noted.

"She is everything and more to me." He said.

Ceka stood from the table and exited the interrogation chamber. Making her way back to the observation room where Thrawn was waiting for her.

She was clearly torn by the situation. She began tapping through her datapad.

"What are you looking for?" Thrawn asked.

"Commander Bengts' medical record." She said, "I have a strong suspicion about why Cykla is so desperate to protect her."

"And why would that be?" Thrawn asked, curious about what Ceka saw that he missed.

Suddenly she stopped scrolling, her shoulders deflating in defeat. Handing the datapad to him, she pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned against the wall, perhaps in regret.

Thrawn looked at the data on the medical file. It was a few pages after the tox screen results, so it wasn't important at the time they were initially investigating. However, it was possibly the most important piece of information in the whole investigation. "She's pregnant."

Ceka nodded. Now it made more sense why she was so torn on this decision. "Tell me I'm being too soft." Her voice held strong, but the tensity in her muscles said otherwise about her emotions. "Tell me we should just execute them both, and move on with our lives. That it's better to just manipulate his confession and charge them both with treason like every other officer would."

"Do you truly believe that to be the wisest course of action in this case?" Thrawn asked.

"I want to believe it is in my best interest."

"Yet you are still questioning it."

"By Imperial Law, I need a confession from him to charge her. But if he doesn't confess to her being an accomplice, then there's nothing I can do, and at most she'll be medically discharged." Ceka went through her thought process. "Either way, Cykla is going to be charged with treason. There's no way I can get around that."

"Then perhaps you don't want him to give up Bengts." Thrawn suggested. "She will be medically discharged, and you don't live with that on your conscience."

"I can't allow Imperial Law to be determined by the weight on my conscience." She argued.

"Then don't allow it." He stated.

"It'll be a failed interrogation on my near flawless record."

"Attempting to rationalize the less favorable option will not help you make the decision you have already made."

Ceka bit her lip and closed her eyes. She took a moment to take a deep breath before neutralizing her expression and leaving to speak to Cykla again.

On the holoscreen, Ceka stood to her full height. "We will not abide by such an agreement for your accomplice."

"You what!?" Cykla burst. "You can't! She has to live!"

"It will take more investigation, but I am confident that I can find a name without your help." She calmly exited the room as Cykla struggled against the handcuffs.

Ceka didn't return to the observation room.

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x oc #thrawn #original chatacter #original story #star wars #ceka lo

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author-morgan · 5 years ago

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Deimos!Alexios NSFW Alphabet

Deimos!Alexios x Fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Deimos is steadily getting better when it comes to aftercare, just as he is getting better and learning how to show affection. He doesn’t act aloof anymore and starts taking time to tend to you. He’ll check for any scratches and soothe the angry-looking love bites on your neck and chest with soft kisses. Deimos helps you clean up too. While he’s not one to cuddle, he still drags you into his side (and if you want to curl up to him he’s not going to stop you).

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is his arms because of how strong they are —he can easily pin you down with them and have his way with you. You also like his arms, but Deimos’ thighs are surely sculpted by the gods. There have been times when he’s let you get off by riding his thigh.

Deimos’ favorite part of you is your hands. He likes how much smaller they are than his and how delicate they look against his skin, especially near the scars on his torso and back. He also enjoys how talented your hands are when they’re struggling to wrap around his thick cock. A close second for him is your stomach —Deimos likes how soft it is, a reminder that you aren’t a warrior, and how it rolls and creases as he bends your body like Hephaestus does hot iron in his forge. He thinks it’s a glorious sight to look down and watch his seed paint your belly.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The Cult may not have told him everything —but deep down he knows he’s only a weapon and they want his bloodline erased (why else would they be hunting his parents and sister?). He knows that if you bear his child the Cult will either twist it into a monster like him or leave it to be exposed. For that reason, Deimos mostly finishes on the inside of your thigh or your stomach. If –for whatever reason– he cannot control himself and cums inside you, he’ll make sure you’re supplied with silphium or wild bird’s nest to prevent conception.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It makes him feel a little guilty, but Deimos takes pleasure when you struggle —mostly trying to fight for control, or at least to be able to touch him when he pins your hands down.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, whispers were that the Cult provided their champion with prizes for his victories —a night with some unfortunate soul or souls— to quell the monster until morning. The first time you lay with Deimos, he left you wanting. He knew how to please himself, but not another. It’s a tedious process to teach him the workings of a woman’s body, but after some time he learns what you like (and don’t) and ensures you’re never left wanting again.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It’s basic, but his favorite ways to take you are with you on your back —legs wrapped around his waist— or on all fours (or bent over a table). Deimos does get a certain thrill when you’re on top of him, but he likes being in control too much for those moments to last long.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Deimos is serious and it’s reflected in everything he does —including when he has his way with you. You don’t mind as it’s his nature.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s the face of a powerful organization and image is important to him, even for areas not seen in public. He keeps everything tidy —once he’s comfortable around you, sometimes he’ll even let you help.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

For the longest time, he tried to remain detached, but soon his emotions started getting in the way. That’s when the dynamic started to shift between the two of you —his kisses and touches become softer and linger a little longer and he holds your gaze longer, making sure you’re satisfied.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

For the most part, Deimos controls his compulsions well and rarely ever jacks off. He suppresses his desires when he’s away —he doesn’t need the distraction when he’s trying to sway a leader or change the tides of war— but when he returns, his pent up desire is released like a flood.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Besides an obvious kink for being in control, Deimos also has a kink for marking you as his. He likes seeing the shallow indentation of his teeth on your shoulder, the purple-red hickeys on your neck and breasts, even the light bruises on your hips. (Deimos won’t ever tell you, but he enjoys it when you mark him too especially when your nails break his skin and leave scratches over his back.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

There’s a spot south of the Temple of Apollo that’s always quiet with a view of the sea —he likes to take you there and have his way with you with the moon and stars as witnesses. When you’re there, Deimos tends to take things slower, is gentler, and you might even dare say bordering on romantic. While that’s his favorite place, he’ll take you just about anywhere if he wants you bad enough —in a fort or leader’s house, in one of the antechambers of the Cave of Gaia, on a ship at sea— anywhere.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Three things can easily get Deimos riled up. 1) When you shake your hair free from a braid or let it down from a pinned style it drives him crazy and he wants nothing more than runs his fingers through it. 2) Back and neck rubs, mostly it’s unintentional as you’re just trying to help soothe his tight muscles after a stressful mission or long day of training. Though sometimes when you’re feeling brave your hands will slip around to his torso, pressing into his abdomen —if you do that, Deimos is on you in seconds. 3) Seeing you for the first time after being separated will get him going too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Deimos isn’t going to do anything that could seriously hurt you, sure his hands leave a fair share of bruises on your hips and thighs, but he’ll never do anything that could truly injure you. After all, the Cult has made it very clear that he will not receive another prize should anything befall you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

It was clear when you first met Deimos that he preferred receiving over going down on you —in part because he never had a partner up until you that made him want to return the favor. He still enjoys having your mouth wrapped around his cock, his hand tangled in your hair. When you're sucking him off, it gives you a sense of power and pride to have one of the strongest men in the Greek world completely at your mercy.

When Deimos goes down on you, he always acts like a starved man at a feast —pulling your legs over his shoulders and holding you against his mouth. The stubble of his jaw scraping your thighs, his warm tongue against your clit, and rough fingers pressing into you, curling and stroking. He doesn’t stop until you’re writhing, unsure if you’re pulling him closer and pushing him away.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He tends to be on the rougher side even if he’s taking things slow, but if you’re ever in pain or uncomfortable he’ll make small adjustments to make sure he doesn’t hurt you. On rare occasions, you can get him to truly take things slow —it doesn’t take long before you’re begging him to go faster and deeper.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Deimos isn’t opposed to a good quickie. Most of the time he pulls you aside for a quick fuck when he has to leave suddenly and isn’t sure when he’ll be back.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Deimos is down to experiment to some degree, mostly it’s trying new positions (he’s always going to be the one in charge though unless you manage to catch him off-guard). He only takes risks when he knows you’re okay with it. One time he had his hand over your throat and you’d laid your over his, squeezing his fingers. That’s how he found out you enjoyed the light pressure of his hand wrapped around your throat.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has the blood of the gods running in his veins —he can easily go three to four rounds before he’s spent and tends to last far longer than a typical man. Deimos has been known to keep you up to until the early hours of the morning.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

There’s an olisbos lying around somewhere (it’s molded after his likeness though he’s never expressly mentioned that, but every time the cool, smooth stone slips into your heat it always feels familiar). There are a few long strips of silk lying around, too —Deimos only uses those if you’ve been especially ill-behaved.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s not much for teasing. There’s still ample foreplay between you and Deimos, but it never feels like teasing. You’ve gotten away with teasing him before, like when he was training you to use a sword though once he realized what you were doing, Deimos pulled you aside —his stiff cock pressing into your stomach.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not particularly vocal during the act. Mainly he just grunts and groans —sometimes right before he cums, soft moans bordering on whimpers will escape his lips. You notice once he’s free from the Cult he becomes a little louder, less controlled, and eventually, he even starts panting and breathing your name like a broken prayer.

W = Wildcard (a random headcanon for the character)

One of his favorite things is after he gets back from an assignment or training and is bathing. He loves it when you start massaging his scalp, working down to his shoulders and arms, around to his back. Soothing his tense muscles and tracing over his scars. Eventually, you always end up in the water, too —with him lazily thrusting up into you, hands holding onto your hips, face pressed into your breasts, and your hands threaded into his matted hair. Now that you think about it —bath sex is one of your favorite things too.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Deimos is well endowed. He may only be a demigod, but his cock is that of an Olympian god —15 cm with an equal amount of girth. When he’s completely hard, it curves slightly to the left with swollen veins running from base to head.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a healthy sex drive —maybe even a little higher than an average man. When he’s not off somewhere doing the Cult’s bidding you can expect to have sex two or three times during a week, unless he’s in a bad mood. His libido is always higher once he returns from being away from you, though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

If Deimos is beyond the point of exhaustion, he can fall asleep almost immediately, sometimes while still laying on top of you (it takes practice to be able to shimmy part of his weight off of you without waking him). Other times it takes hours for him to fall asleep —even if you’re already sound asleep lying next to him, and sometimes he doesn’t sleep at all.

#Alexios #Deimos #Alexios Imagine #Alexios Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Imagine #Assassin's Creed Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Odyssey #Deimos!Alexios #Deimos x Reader #Deimos Imagine #Deimos Fanfiction #my writing #100% have a fluffy alphabet in the works too

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ashtheshortstack · 4 years ago

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take my scars & make them stars - epilogue

Rating: M Ship: Kristoff/Anna epilogue

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sick Fic, Cancer Fic, Chronic Illness, Chemotherapy, Modern AU, Coffee Shop AU, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Mentions of Character Death

Read on Ao3

Previous Chapter

Anna never thought there’d be a day that she’d see Kristoff in pink, but it wasn’t a bad look on him at all. She really appreciated him coming to the Breast Cancer 5k Run to support her. Of course, Elsa and Gerda had accompanied them too.

While Elsa and Kristoff only wore their matching t-shirts and running gear (which were Anna’s idea--Gerda wasn’t running so she didn’t need one, but she did wear her own pink top in support), Anna wore a pink tutu, pink socks, and a bright pink bow in her curly, bobbed auburn strands. She was quite proud of her decked out pink ensemble. Kristoff also called her cute, so that was even more of a win in Anna’s book.

Anna wanted pictures before the three of them got super gross and sweaty from running, and Gerda happily obliged her when she hooked arms with her sister and boyfriend and forced them to pose with her. Neither seemed to complain, though, which she was thankful for. When Gerda handed her the phone back, Anna was thrilled to see how well the photo turned out. In fact, she was even tempted to post it. She hadn’t posted on any social media in ages, aside from private stories on Snapchat. But she figured… maybe it was time. Maybe, it was finally time to come out with everything she’d been through. The photo itself was very telling. Each shirt had its own message: Elsa’s read “I run for my sister,” Kristoff’s: “I run for my girlfriend” (which Anna loved ) and Anna’s read: “I run for ME.” And damn, she meant it.

She hadn’t been very vocal about her break up with Hans… but better late than never, right? Besides, maybe it was time to show off her new man. Her shiny, new upgrade, she mused to herself.

Kristoff hadn’t posted anything about their relationship either. He told her he’d wait until she was ready to make the information public. Even telling her he wouldn’t tell his family either, but Anna didn’t feel that was fair and encouraged him to be honest with his parents. Including the cancer.

Apparently, Bulda was very insistent on meeting her soon. Her boyfriend explained that his parents had moved out of Arendelle to Rock Valley right after he graduated, but he opted to stay in the area. She could understand that considering what the family had been through. So, they’d decided they’d make a weekend out of it soon and drive up to his parents’ house in the next few weeks. Anna would be lying if she wasn’t nervous--but also extremely excited. Meeting the Bjorgmans would be a wonderful experience, she was sure. But at the same time, she didn’t want to bring up anything she shouldn’t. She didn’t want to be a reminder of what they’d lost… Kristoff had assured her that wouldn’t be the case. But… she still had her doubts.

After smiling down at the photo on her phone, she held it up for her boyfriend and sister to view. Elsa gasped and grinned. “Anna! I love it! Please, send that to me. We need it framed.”

Anna snorted at that. “Is… Is it okay if I post it?”

Her companions all looked surprised at the question. Kristoff tilted his head. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “I think it’s time to stop hiding from the world.”

Elsa wasn’t one to be super emotional. Not since their parents closed her off from the world and forced her to be cold. But when her eyes became glassy, Anna worried she’d said the wrong thing. Quickly, her sister grabbed her hand. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Smiling, Anna nodded and logged in for the first time in forever. She decided that going through and deleting pictures of her and Hans would be the next thing she did. Like the picture of their proposal… yeah, that’d need to go.

But, that was not the time to think of that. The run would start any moment.

Anna walked with race--with an occasional jog her and there--since her endurance still wasn’t quite built back up. She encouraged Elsa to really go for it (her sister had a bit of competitive spirit), and while the flaxen blonde originally seemed hesitant, eventually she decided to go for it in a full out sprint. Kristoff stayed by Anna’s side, holding her hand through most of it.

Elsa and Gerda were waiting for them at the finish line.

o~o~o~o

Meeting Bulda and Cliff went better than Anna expected. It was like meeting the parents she’d never had. Doting, kind parents that truly cared every bit for their children. Anna couldn’t help but imagine how different her life could’ve been if her parents had been the same. But she knew it’d be wasting time to dwell on such things. Her parents were gone, and she couldn’t change that. Couldn’t change them… or who they were.

“Oh, hun… Kristoff obviously isn’t cooking enough for you. You’re so skinny.”

Kristoff hissed at her. “Ma, she hasn’t even been done with chemo a year yet. Chill out.”

Anna felt an inward of panic at the mention of chemotherapy. Would that be an upsetting topic for them? She didn’t want to remind them of their traumatic experiences. She didn’t know what it was like to lose a child to cancer, but she did know that she’d lost her parents. And how that felt…

But Bulda brushed off Kristoff’s comment. “You better be taking care of her!”

“Mom!”

Giggling behind her hand, she watched the exchange of Kristoff bickering with his mother. At one point, Bulda smacked his hand with a spatula when he commented on the amount of spices she put in the dinner she was making. Anna had never seen her burly boyfriend yelp and cower like that, but it amused her more than she’d let him know.

Apparently, she needed to invest in a spatula.

When they sat at the small table for four, Anna couldn’t help but wonder if the seat she sat in had once been meant for Pepper. Swallowing thickly, she picked at the spaghetti before her. There was a ridiculous amount of food on the plate in front of her. It seemed maybe there was more on her plate than the rest… it seemed Bulda was serious about fattening her up. If this is how Kristoff grew up eating, it’s no wonder he ended up being so thick.

He glanced at her, brows pinching in a silent question. Bulda and Cliff were chatting about their work days, not seeming to notice their son paying them no attention. But Anna just smiled to reassure him and scarfed some noodles into her mouth so as to not worry him further.

Dinner wasn’t awkward by any means. Bulda made conversation rather easily. She asked about her family, mainly Elsa, seeming to evade the topic of her parents. That was probably Kristoff’s doing.

Eventually, Bulda smiled at her. “Anna, would you care to help me with the dishes?”

Blinking, she nodded. “Oh, yes ma’am, of course.”

Kristoff gaped at her. “Mom, she’s a guest she shouldn’t--”

Bulda gave him a look , and the blond’s mouth snapped shut.

Cliff and his son ended up on the back porch, despite how worried Kristoff looked leaving her behind. But Bulda just shooed him, apparently eager to have Anna to herself. As his mother began placing the dishes in one side of the sink, she shook her head with sigh before giving Anna a smile.

“That boy is so protective of you, I swear. You’ll have to tell him you’re a big girl,” she said with a chuckle.

Anna smiled. She wouldn’t admit aloud that she really did enjoy how Kristoff could be overbearing at times. At first, she was a bit weirded out, but as time went on… she realized how much she craved that attention. It was something she hadn’t gotten from her parents, or even Hans for that matter, so a little bit of overprotection wasn’t too bad. Kristoff wasn’t overly possessive or anything, just a healthy enough amount to fret over her.

When Anna didn’t speak, Bulda continued on. “He was the same way with his sister. It’s just instinct for him,” she explained as she ran the water. “Could you dry these for me? If it hurts, just say so.”

Nodding, she agreed. “I can do it.” She was mostly telling the truth. The feeling in her fingers had returned. It was only sometimes when she did really tedious tasks would the painful tingles return to her joints and fingertips.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to be ashamed around us. Or feel like you need to walk on eggshells for us. We lost our daughter, but we can talk about it. It’s alright.”

As Anna dried a dish, she pursed her lips and looked away. “A-Are you sure?”

“Of course, dear. If we don’t talk about her, she’ll fade away. It’s okay to talk about the good and the bad. Acceptance is how you heal. We can’t avoid what happened.”

Chest tight, she nodded. “You’re right. F-From what Kristoff had told me, she was a really sweet girl.”

“Oh, she was a good girl. Could be a little devious sometimes, but it was just cause she wanted his attention. Kristoff was so much older than her, sometimes I worried they wouldn’t be close. They were definitely siblings… picking on each other all the time. But she adored him, and he adored her.”

Anna hummed. “I feel the same about my sister. We didn’t really get to grow up together, but now that we’ve become close, it’s a bond I wish I’d gotten to experience sooner.”

Bulda handed her another dish. “Kristoff told me a little about your family. Not much, though. But I won’t pry. I’m sorry to hear that you and your sister have gone through a lot.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me be honest with you, dear… Never feel guilty for surviving. Just because others didn’t, doesn’t mean you should be ashamed that you did. Always remember that. You deserve to love and live life. Kristoff has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.”

Anna took those words to heart, filing them away to hold onto forever. Bulda was right…

It was okay to live.

o~o~o~o

Anna sat in his lap, her lips on his as they pressed their bare chests together. Kristoff’s fingers twined into her auburn locks with a gentle tug. She had no idea that hair pulling was a thing she liked, but since her hair had grown out they both discovered something new about her. Kristoff seemed to enjoy it… he’d give her hair a small yank at random times just to fluster her, and it often worked.

But she stopped him, pulling her mouth away from his. Anna glanced down between them, gazing over her body. The marks and scars, the many freckles and bumps…

“Anna?”

Her eyes met his. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Blinking, his brows furrowed. “Okay…?”

She didn’t want to worry him. Not really. But this was something she’d been avoiding since they’d started dating. And, especially now that they were intimate, it needed to be discussed.

“I-I don’t know if we need condoms or not.”

“...Huh?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Anna wanted to smack herself. What a stupid thing to say. A horrible way to go about this. Damn, she was an idiot.

“I mean… I don’t know if I can have kids.”

“Oh.”

Fidgeting with her thumbs, she vaguely realized that this was a really uncomfortable position to be in while bringing this up. They were both topless, his cheeks were flushed with kiss swollen lips, there was a very clear bulge pressing against her through his jeans. But she couldn’t let this go on. Not without telling him.

“Dr. Mattias said there was a chance that the chemo could make me infertile. I-I haven’t exactly asked him about checking up with that. So, I don’t know if I can even get pregnant naturally.”

Kristoff nodded. “Anna… I want a family someday,” her heart dropped, “but only if it’s with you.”

Jaw dropping, she couldn’t help but feel stunned at his admission. “W-Wait, really?”

“I love you. There’s no one else I’d rather have a family with. Look, I was adopted, so I don’t have any qualms with doing the same.”

“I-I mean, we may not have to. But I’m glad you’re open to the idea. A-After Dr. Mattias told me about the risks, I did have some of my eggs frozen. B-But there’s no guarantee that it could work, a-and I don’t have boobs and that might cause problems, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up or anything or--”

Kristoff pressed his lips to hers, effectively shutting up her. “I want you , Anna Anderson. No matter what that entails. Whether we have children of our own or not someday, I don’t care. As long as you’re the one with me.”

A girlish giggle bubbled past her lips.

“But uh--” he cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t mind finding out if condoms are a necessity or not because, ya know, I wouldn’t mind… going without?”

Smirking, she simply pushed him down on the mattress.

When Anna woke, bare aside from the sheets covering her skin, she was alone. Kristoff had to be at the jobsite at 6:00AM where he’d work a few hours before heading to the coffee shop. It was nice that both bosses were accommodating him as he adjusted. It was strange thinking about the fact that Kristoff would no longer be the first face she saw when she entered Arendelle Roasts. Oaken was kind enough to allow Kristoff to make his own schedule for his last two weeks. Ama was proud that he would be turning to construction full time after working so hard to learn the ropes.

It did suck to know he would rarely be beside her in the mornings, but when she started her classes at AU then maybe they could share a breakfast since she had to be up anyway.

Rolling over to check the time, Anna laughed at the sight of a chocolate chip muffin sitting on the nightstand waiting for her.

o~o~o~o

The bell chimed as someone entered the door. Anna glanced up from her spot behind the counter, smiling when she saw Kristoff walking towards her.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer,” she cooed.

The blond snorted at her. “Pretty sure you stole my line.”

Anna hummed, a mused tone in her voice. “Nope. Can’t be your line if I’m the one working here now.”

“Because you stole my job.”

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. “I was hired here, thank you. Now, do you want a Maple Harvest or not?”

Beaming, he leaned on the counter. She was thankful it was closing time and there were only two other customers finishing up their cups, so Kristoff heckling her at the counter wouldn’t get her in very much trouble. “Already got my coffee memorized?” he teased.

“Don’t act like you didn’t memorize Elsa’s drink.”

“That’s because you always ordered it as an excuse to talk to me.”

“Lies,” she snapped while biting back a smile. Yeah, he was right. But oh, she would never give him the satisfaction.

Anna went to the machine to begin his order. Ryder peaked around and smirked at her. “You know, I thought you two would get tired of flirting eventually.”

Laughing, she shook her head. “You should know both of us better by now.”

“Touche.”

When Anna returned to the counter, Kristoff was ready with money in hand. She looked between him and the cash before tilting her head with a knowing smile. “It’s on the house.”

“Anna…”

“It’s on the house,” she repeated as she wrote on the cup.

After she handed it over, Kristoff gave her a flat look when he saw that she’d written “Christopher” on his drink. “Why do you torture me?” he grumbled.

“Because I love you.”

She really did.

#kristanna #kristoff x anna #the queen & her reindeer king #ash writes #frozen fic #anna x kristoff #kristanna fic #tw: cancer #tw: character death #cancer fic #angst #hurt/comfort #mentions of chemotherapy #tms&mts #take my scars & make them stars

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misc-headcanons · 5 years ago

Note

Hi c: First things first, I love your blog I saw requests were open, so I wanted to ask a nsfw alphabet for Bartolomeo, if you’re ok with it.

(Hell yeah, it’s Barto Time :3)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Barto is ready to tend to your every need after sex. You want ANYTHING, his crew will bring it to you with a call on his DenDen Mushi. It connects to the speakers on the ship, and he orders his men to bring you whatever you need. (“I’m kinda hungry now…” “On it. Oi, bring up some–what do you want, babe?” “I’m craving burgers right now.” “Bring up some burgers to my room. Whoever makes the best one and gets it here fastest gets a copy of one of my autographed posters!”)

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his partner’s face. He just enjoys cupping your cheek and kissing you everywhere he can; your soft lips, your cute squishy cheeks, little kisses on the tip of your nose…As for his body, he likes his hair. His hairstyle is awesome (to him, at least), it’s an eye-catching color, and his hair is just so soft; he loves whenever you run your fingers through his hair.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

His cum is on the thick side, translucent whitish-colored, and a little bitter. Nothing that will make you gag, though.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay, so Bartolomeo knows that Luffy isn’t really interested in sex, BUT…he’s had this recurrent dream where he’s in a threesome with you and Luffy-sama, and it always results in him moaning both of your names and absolutely ruining his sheets. Even if Luffy did have an interest in sex, Barto feels he isn’t worthy enough to sleep with him. I mean, sometimes he thinks isn’t worthy enough to sleep with someone as gorgeous and loving as YOU, so the idea of having a threesome with you two is too much for him to think about.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Personally, I think he’s a virgin. He talks a lot of game, but the instant you make a move on him for the first time he’s a blushing mess. As long as you and the Straw Hats aren’t around, he gives off the impression he’s had sex before with how confident he is, but any questions about any of his past (and nonexistent) conquests makes him crumble a bit. He’s actually gotten close to sleeping with a few people in the past, but once he takes them to his room, they see the shit ton of Straw Hats merch (posters, plushies, cosplay outfits, handmade figures, etc.) and they peace the fuck out. To be fair, seeing a dozen plushies of Luffy, Chopper, and the rest of the gang looking straight at you during sex would be…offputting.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

The first time you two have sex, he’s anxious about where he should be and he lets you take the reins. He would want to experiment with a few different positions, and he finds he likes being on the bottom most of the time with you riding him. Cowgirl is his go-to, but as long as he gets to see your face he’s a happy man.

http://sexpositions.club/positions/113.html

http://sexpositions.club/positions/283.html

http://sexpositions.club/positions/55.html

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He tries to be serious and put on his cocky, confident persona (like how he was at the start of the Arena), but it falls apart almost immediately when you two first have sex. Whether or not he’s goofy in bed depends on his partner, since he’ll follow their lead and try to match their energy. If you’re more serious, he’s more serious. If you’re more giggly, so is he.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Yes, it’s green. And yes, he grooms it as meticulously as the hair on his head. He has a small happy trail and he used to shave it, but after overhearing a few women talk about how they found men with happy trails hot he decided to leave it. It’s surprisingly soft by pubic hair standards!

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Barto is VERY intimate and romantic. He may come across as a monstrous badass as Bartolomeo the Cannibal, but in the bedroom he is so gentle. He wants to worship you like the king/queen you are, and sex with him involves a lot of foreplay. He likes positions where he can look you in the eyes and cup your cheek as you ride him, and his hands and mouth never stop exploring your body. His kisses have a little sharpness to them thanks to his teeth, and he tries not to draw blood or hurt you unless that’s what you want.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Does it about three times a week. He gets hard at the drop of a hat, and it doesn’t subside unless he takes care of it himself. He had a magazine when he was younger, but now he prefers to use his imagination. Even though he does fantasize about some of the Straw Hats, he would NEVER use any of their merch or wanted posters– If he tainted any of his mint-condition, pristine posters of them, he would throw himself into the ocean with his pants still around his ankles. Once he’s with you, he sticks to thinking about you…and/or Nami sleeping with you. And/or Robin. And/or Franky, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Luffy-sama…

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

This is a Straw Hat-only fetish, but cuckolding and/or group sex. Obviously this doesn’t apply to Chopper, but as for everyone else? Hell yes. As stated above, he loves the idea of sleeping with you and one or more of his idols at the same time. He wouldn’t even have to be involved, either; seeing Zoro-san taking you from behind with Nami and Robin both sharing you in front, Franky using a few “special inventions” on you, Luffy completely wrapped around you and giving Bartolomeo a sly wink…INSTANT NUT. He feels guilty whenever his fantasies involve Luffy, a) because he doesn’t feel worthy enough to sleep with Luffy or even watch him in bed and b) he gets the feeling Luffy wouldn’t really be into that. Still, it turns him on like you wouldn’t believe.

Non-Straw Hat kinks? He gets really turned on when you wear his clothes, and if you wore his coat while riding him he would lose it. He’s also a bit of a sub, so he likes being on the receiving end of some light BDSM/teasing/edging. He also has a praise kink. It doesn’t even need to be sexual, just tell him he’s a great fighter or that his hair looks cool and his pants will start to get tight.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He isn’t too fond of public sex. Sex is one of the few times he indulges in being submissive and vulnerable, and he doesn’t want any random assholes to see him desperately begging for you to make him cum. He usually sticks to a bed, couch, or the floor of his room. While he doesn’t want people to catch him in the act, he DOES enjoy bragging to the crew over his DenDen Mushi once you two are finished. (“Guys, I just made ____ cum four times in a row!” And then there’s just a fucking chorus of cheering from every part of the ship)

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Like I said, he enjoys seeing you in his clothes and any time you praise him he gets turned on. Seeing you kick someone’s ass or verbally go off on someone is also really hot to him; he already knows you’re a badass, but there’s something about seeing you just wreck a bitch that makes his blood rush south.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that would hurt you. If you’re a masochist, he would try really hard to satisfy you, but he just can’t bring himself to do anything really major. Like he would NEVER under any circumstances slap you during sex, even if you beg him to. I mean the dude apologizes if he grips your hips too hard or if he accidentally bites you when he’s giving you a hickey.

He thought he would enjoy roleplay, but it turns out it just isn’t his thing. He doesn’t wanna fuck you if you’re pretending to be someone else, he wants you. And he’d be kinda hurt if you wanted him to pretend to be something he isn’t.

No bodily fluids. He enjoys being teased and degraded, but he does NOT wanna be pissed on. If you get periods though and you want to have sex during Shark Week, he’s fine with sex as long as it’s easy to clean up after (having sex in the shower, putting a few towels down on the bed, etc.)

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He likes to give you oral, but he worries about hurting you with his sharp teeth. If you have a penis, he learns how to deepthroat as soon as possible so he can take all of you in his mouth (and he firmly believes that spitters are quitters. You cum in his mouth, and he WILL swallow and wipe what’s left off his lips before pulling you in for a kiss.)

If you’ve got a vagina, he improves his tongue’s dexterity by trying to tie a cherry stem in his mouth every day until he can do it easily. The closest he really gets to being dominant is when he’s giving you oral; he’ll pin your legs down with a small growl and stare at you intensely as he eats you out like you’re his last meal.

His first time isn’t anything amazing, but he’s a fast learner. Once you two have been together a few times, he learns how to tell when you like what he’s doing.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s the kind of guy to start slow and sensual, but the closer he gets to cumming the faster and more desperate he gets. Because he prefers having you on top, he likes to let you set the pace; he also LOVES when you two go faster and faster, and you suddenly slow down to tease him right as he’s about to cum.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s cool with quickies! Whether it’s because you just need to fuck away your pent-up stress or you just have a busy day, he totally understands why you’d want a quickie. He’d prefer proper sex though, but if you ask for a quick round he eagerly agrees. He doesn’t initiate quickies that often, maybe once or twice a month.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Barto trusts you completely, so he’s open to trying anything with you at least once. Even with his turn-offs, he’ll really try to experiment with his boundaries; if you wanted him to hurt you, he’d just start grabbing your ass a bit rougher than usual; after some prodding from you, he’d spank you. But any further than that, and he’d say he doesn’t feel okay with it.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Barto’s stamina is fairly low at first; the first time he has sex, he was so overstimulated and overwhelmed with emotion that he just collapsed after his first orgasm. As he sleeps with you more often, his stamina builds up and now he can go three or four rounds before he needs to tap out. He doesn’t take a break until you’ve climaxed at LEAST twice. Like his stamina, he doesn’t last very long at first but he can go longer and longer over time. Since he refuses to stop until you’ve cum at least twice, he’ll push himself to keep going even if he doesn’t know how long he can last. He’ll typically last about 15 minutes per round on average, and he usually manages to make you cum before then.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s a simple guy; when it comes to jacking off, all he ever needed was his own hand a good imagination. So he doesn’t own any toys, but if his partner wanted to try them out he would happily try some out (whether it’s on him or on his s/o)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He prefers being teased by you, so he’ll only do it a little bit if he knows it’ll get you to “punish” him for it. If he notices that you enjoy being teased, he’ll do it a bit more during foreplay (kissing your neck and earlobe, dragging his teeth along your skin, lightly squeezing your thighs, etc.)

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s pretty damn loud, not gonna lie. He doesn’t mean to be, but you just make him feel so good! He doesn’t like anyone aside from you to hear him beg, but because he’s so loud he usually has to quiet himself by moaning with his mouth against your body or by making a soundproof barrier around the two of you. He’d love it if you gagged him to keep him from making so much noise, whether that be with a ball gag or just a piece of cloth.

Constantly switches between praising you and begging you like the desperate little slut he is. When he cums, it’s usually with a low whine/growl thing that’s just…so hot when you hear it. If you’re the kind of person to make him say things in bed, he does it immediately without any thought to who might hear you, which is why he usually makes a soundproof barrier before you two go at it (“C’mon, Barto, tell me how bad you wanna cu��” “Ah, fuck, ____, I need you to make me cum so badly, I can’t take it anymore! Fuck, please, please…”)

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

While he usually makes a soundproof barrier, he used to forget to lock his bedroom door in the heat of the moment. Long story short, Cavendish once walked in on the two of you: Bartolomeo was gagged and blindfolded, and Cavendish had walked in on him right as you two were cumming. Thanks to the barrier, he couldn’t hear you two but he saw everything. He just froze and his eyes widened, and once you realized he was there and made eye contact, he just slowly backed out of the room. You didn’t tell Barto what had happened, but now you always make sure his door is locked whenever you two are about to have sex. If Bartio knew that Cavendish had seen him being your blindfolded and gagged fucktoy, he wouldn’t even know how to deal with it.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Your boy is a shower: 7 ½ inches flaccid and 8 ½ inches erect. Fairly average girth, and it’s a little pink at the tip. It’s got one vein on the left side, but it isn’t noticeable unless you’re staring at his dick for a while.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Ideally, he wants to have sex 4 to 5 times a week, so his sex drive is pretty high. He doesn’t even care if it’s just oral most of the time; as long as he busts a nut, he doesn’t care how it comes about.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends on the time of day. Morning sex actually makes him energized and pumped, but afternoon and evening sex makes him more sleepy once he’s climaxed. He’s more likely to fall asleep in the evening, but he won’t do it if you’re in need of some aftercare. Once you’re satisfied (in more ways than one~), he collapses against his mattress and holds you close for some post-sex cuddling until he falls asleep. If you spoon him, run your hands through his hair, and murmur some gentle praises in his hear, he’ll melt in your arms.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece headcanon #bartolomeo #bartolomeo the cannibal #ns.fw #ns.fw alphabet #mine #queue

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eloarei · 4 years ago

Text

Reaper, ch... I dunno, 7?

I was tired of not-writing, so I started what is probably roughly chapter 7 of the Reaper novel I haven’t actually properly started or plotted out yet. words: 2,169 (T-rated, f/m, gen) chapters: ??? I dunno fandom: original characters: Vanessa Mattock, Theocritus, Mr. Mattock ship: Vessa&Theo, Vessa/Theo (implied) tags: some supernatural nonsense, the difficulty of just living, adjusting to humanity, alcohol, notes: hey I wrote this in like 2 hours maybe? That’s the charm of not having to follow any rules I guess. Even though it takes place in the middle of the story (so I guess technically it’s chock full of spoilers?), it probably reads just fine if you have no idea what’s going on. x So there was a reaper living on her couch. Well, he wasn’t a reaper anymore, she guessed, but what was she supposed to think of him as? Theo. Theo was living on her couch, after he’d outstayed his welcome at Sid’s place. They’d had a nice, self-pitying afternoon together when she’d found him there, borrowing some of Sid’s bottom-shelf whiskey in the hopes of dulling their respective traumas. But in the end, Sid had grouched at them that his place wasn’t a goddam hostel and Vanessa needed to find a new place for her boss to slump in half-drunken misery-- he’d already put up with enough weird shit the past day, what with Camille straight disappearing on them after summoning a horde of demons and zombies to his door. (Theo later explained that that was an exaggeration; it was only one demon and the zombies hadn’t even made it anywhere close to the antique shop. Still, as Sid was mortal and mostly normal, it wasn’t a surprise that that was a bit much for him.)

Vanessa’s dad wasn’t going to be super pleased that she brought a ‘strange man’ into their house (boy, he didn’t know the half it-- like the fact that that strange man had saved his life), but he definitely wouldn’t stand the two of them getting drunk in the living room with all the shades drawn and the TV set to some trashy reality show, which was what she really sort of wanted to do. So instead of taking Theo back to her place right away, she’d walked them through the outskirts of town, off toward the seaside.

There was… a lot to say. Primarily she wanted to berate him for not being there for her when she really needed him, but now that she knew he’d been having a rough time of his own her sense of betrayal had mostly faded off. It wasn’t like he’d been ignoring her on purpose (though what was she supposed to think at the time? He always came when she called him, and sometimes when she hadn’t called him and he’d just fucking sensed she was thinking about him or whatever). And yeah, she was still pretty shook about realizing that her mother was probably still alive (and maybe even in the city), but becoming human again after at least a couple hundred years of weird immortality was… possibly even harder, she admitted to herself. So she tried to be supportive of what her boss (or maybe former boss?) was going through. “You, um… doin’ ok?” she’d asked, as they’d strolled down the street, staggering slightly on the occasion. He looked the long way down at her, probably hurting his neck in the process. He was a little bit draped over her, arm slung over her shoulders like an old pal, but even with his current slouch they didn’t even nearly match up in height. Back when he’d been his usual reaper-y self (the last time Vanessa had seen him before Tawney helped her track him down at the antique shop), he’d seemed to absolutely tower over her and everyone else, almost lost in shadow. Now he was just plain tall-- although it was still pretty freaking tall. “I… will probably survive,” he’d replied, sounding all the more pitiful in his proper English accent. “Well I fucking hope so,” Vanessa had said, at a loss for anything more substantial or kind. Be kind of dumb if he just died after all of this, she thought. Especially when there was still so much she was just starting to understand about this shadow world he’d dragged her into. (Well, ‘dragged’ was not totally fair; she did kind of offer, after all.) They hadn’t really talked much after that, until they’d ended up in front of her house, and Theo had cocked his head at her and said, “Why are we here?” Vanessa gave him a deadpan look. “You got kicked out of Camille’s friend’s place, remember? What, were you gonna sleep on the street?” “Sleep…” he’d said softly, like he was testing the word out, or the idea. “I hadn’t thought…” “Yeah, obviously.” And on purpose, too. Why else would the first thing he asked for have been alcohol, other than that he didn’t want to have to think about his new lowly position in life? But he was obviously tired-- eyes shadowed in a way that had nothing to do with the mystical and everything to do with physical and emotional exhaustion. She’d seen herself looking like that on more than one occasion, especially before he’d rescued her from the hellscape universe where her father was dead and there was nothing she could do about it. They’d gone inside, just walking like normal people instead of that vaguely-irritating appearing thing Theo had used to do before. (It was like he just hated doors or something, she sometimes thought.) Her father wasn’t home yet, and wouldn’t be for another few hours at least, Wednesdays being his longest work shifts. She took advantage of his absence by not sneaking around the house, guiding Theo to the living room couch and sitting him down. He sat there in the dusky darkness while she rummaged around in the kitchen for snacks. They didn’t have any alcohol in the house, but junk food could be just as good a balm. Sitting down next to him in the dark, Vanessa handed him a package of Oreos and a cola, while she dug into a fresh bag of cheese puffs and a Sprite. Theo looked down at the junk food in his hands. “What do I do with this?” he asked, apparently perturbed for some reason. She pulled the cola out of his hand with little resistance and popped it open, replacing it in his grip. “Drink,” she said. “You know how to do that.” Diligently, he took a swig of the chilly can, but his face morphed into a vague distaste as he swallowed. (Vague only because he was hardly emoting at all right now, she knew. At his normal rate of emotion, it would definitely be at least a scowl.) “This is far too sweet,” he said, and he set it aside on the end table. “Yeah, well,” Vanessa responded, grabbing the Oreos and ripping the package open. “You’re living now, okay, so you need calories and junk.” She pulled a cookie out and jammed it into his mouth. He seemed a little surprised, but he chewed on it anyway, and the tenseness in his shoulders faded a little. She didn’t know if that was because he liked it, or just because it was something to do. After a minute, she turned on the TV, keeping the volume low and just letting the colors wash over them. Theo was staring in the right direction, but she’d have bet he wasn’t really seeing the reality-TV shenanigans. (Probably a good thing, in this case, because it would have just annoyed him if he realized how stupid it was.) An episode or two passed, and she was starting to feel pretty drained. “Hey,” she started quietly, not wanting to shock Theo out of his trance too badly. “I think I’m gonna go crash. You should sleep too.” She got up to go find a blanket for him, but his gaze followed her, a little lazy, a little lost. “I don’t know how,” he said. “You don’t--” Vanessa blinked, and she blinked again. God, why was it her responsibility to teach him how to be a human? Shouldn’t it be Camille’s job since he was the one that took Theo’s powers? (Not that she thought Camille was great at being human either, but still.) She took a deep breath. “You just… Just close your eyes and don’t do anything. I dunno, pretend you’re dead.” A flicker of emotion crossed his face, probably unrelated to her suggestion. It was something she’d describe as ‘confused and annoyed about it’; maybe consternation. “I don’t know if I can do this, Vessa,” he said, and she knew he wasn’t talking about sleeping. Not exactly, anyway. “I mean, that’s…” She shrugged. “That’s life, right? You just have to take it a day at a time. A minute at a time.” He was zoning out a bit, staring at a spot on the wall, but she managed to catch his eyes and noted that they didn’t glow like they did before, that pale white-gold that always seemed to loom out of the shadows of her room. They were just light brown now, and tired. “Hey look… You know I’ll be here to help, okay? I’ve gotten through like ten thousand days. I’m sure I can help you through a few.” “Seventy-two hundred and sixty-three,” he said. “The days you’ve been through.” She scoffed and turned away to hide her smile. “Ok well that’s still a lot more than you.” She walked off to go find a blanket, wondering for a minute if Theo was going to be hot or cold natured, before she decided on an old course hand-woven thing her mom had picked up from somewhere, ages ago. She didn’t know if it’d be too hot or too cold, but if she was feeling as bad as she thought he was, that was the one she’d pick for herself. Ironically, he was out like a light by the time she got back. “Hey,” she said, draping the blanket over him. “Old man?” There wasn’t even the slightest downward twitch of lips, so she knew he was really finally asleep. Maybe his first sleep in a thousand years. She hoped it was a good one. She couldn’t say what exactly possessed her (maybe it was just that he couldn’t shy away or judge her), but she reached down and smoothed back that little piece of hair that always fell forward onto his forehead, and followed it up by pressing her lips to the empty space it left. She took a deep breath and inhaled his new, living smell. It wasn’t anything really specific. Just… warm. Smelled like hair and body oils and a little bit of lingering whiskey. Compared to the too-clean nothingness she’d whiffed before, when he pulled her close enough to teleport them someplace, it was just… better, more real. Smelled like a man who was living some kind of life, step after step, not… two feet on the wrong side of a grave. “Sleep well,” she said, even though he wouldn’t hear her. Then she tottered up the stairs and fell into bed, with just enough energy and presence of mind to kick off her shoes. Of course she didn’t hear the front door open, or her father cautiously step around the strange man sleeping on the couch and up the stairs in the desperate hope his daughter would have some explanation. “Nessie,” he said softly, settling his hand on his shoulder and just barely rousing her. She turned and glanced over her shoulder at her father, miles too tired to remember anything other than the fact that she was stupid tired, but there wasn’t a moment in her life where she ever thought of brushing off her dad, so of course she shook herself awake. “Dad. What’s up?” “Do you know why there’s someone sleeping on the couch?” Vanessa sighed. “Uhh, yeah. That’s my friend. Theo.” “Theo doesn’t have his own place?” her dad asked, raising an eyebrow just a little bit, just enough to show he was skeptical, but not mad. She tried to get her brain back in order and remember the excuse she came up with earlier. “Uh, well, his place had a f- flood, like a bad one, and they made everybody get out, but he’s kind of new to the area. I mean, he just moved from England, so he doesn’t have any family or friends to stay with.” Mr. Mattock’s face wasn’t hard to begin with (it never was), but it softened to hear his daughter trying to help a friend in his time of need. “That’s nice of you,” he said, and Vanessa knew he was being genuine, though he still seemed just the slightest bit uneasy. “He doesn’t really look your age though. He’s not… your professor, is he?” Vanessa grimaced, and she could tell her face was turning a little red. “No! No, he’s, um, he works at the library on campus.” Her father hummed, but he didn’t seem to be really criticising her story. “Well, alright. I’ll let you get back to sleep and then maybe we can talk more in the morning. G’night, sweetie.” “Night, dad,” she responded, and she managed to hold back her heavy sigh until he was out of the room. And then she fell back to sleep. She wanted to stay up and think about all the stupid little details she was going to have to probably remember for his cover story, but she was too tired to think anything other than ‘screw it’. xXx

#elo fics #elo writes a novel #elo OCs #probably need to come up with an official title for this series #Elo Rogue-verse #original fiction #genre supernatural

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duskywraith · 5 years ago

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Unleashing the Beast

This is a written up tale of a friend’s recent DnD Experience. (Campaign Note: Due to a large amount of players, their party has split up to split the players amongst separate sessions – Currently a “stealth” group and a “non-stealth” group.)

Friend: ...yeah also last week was insane.

Me: Oh yeah?

F: Yeah, so, we have to get to the Drow city.

Our team is team stealth we've been split in two groups, and our only healers, technically, are me and a Drow cleric. We’re about half-way through our journey and we come across a 300ft cave with a lake inside… and an aboleth swimming inside it. It begins to talk to us telepathically and tells us we either capture the leader of the gnomes down the path to the right or we sacrifice one of us for freedom to pass, so, after much deliberation…

M: You...considered the sacrifice? 😂😂

F: …We choose to get the gnome's leader much to the disgruntlement of the gnome and past gnome in the party, we turn around to leave and get confronted by 14 intellect devourers. So, we kill them, but our cleric got beaten and we had to put the helm of intellect on her because she got d u m b. We take a rest, and off we go. We're ready, we're sorta preparing a plan, the Cleric casts pass without trace on the group and we begin our way into the deep gnome mining village.

M: Sounds pretty solid so far

I can’t imagine anything going wrong here

F: Our stealth isn’t the best in general you know with a hulking barbarian in the party, so the pass without trace defo helped. We make it through without quarrel and we hear:

“Mithril! Go take it to Krazak??”(not sure about the name can’t remember).

So, we follow the gnome into a large cavern and we are confronted by a large pile of gold and ores and shiny things huuuge in the cavern of this mountain, and upon it, a fucking black dragon!

M: Oooooh no 😂 doesnt bode well

F: Realising that this is the leader we supposedly need to capture we're like:

“o f u c”

You know how I mentioned stealth?

M: For sure, for sure

F: Yeah, we we're all perfectly hidden and fine… apart from the fucking gnome, who walks straight in and the dragon is like: “huh… a gnome from above ground, whomst this?”

The gnome’s like: “o god o fuck”

So, this big fat fucking dragon gets right up in the face of the gnome and is like: “What are you doing here?!”

Gnome: “We're just trying to pass through, we got lost”

Deception check…

Failed.

Dragon: “Don’t humour me, I’m not stupid. Tell me why you’re here or I’ll straight up eat you!”

So, the gnome tells the dragon about the aboleth in the pond and how it wanted the leader of the gnomes.

Wisdom check

Result: 4 of us are now scared simply because of the aura of his dragon

and he’s like “Ah there’s more…”

M: 😂😂 Go oooon

F: The dragon then tells us: “Well see, I was brought here as a young dragon with my mother, to be protected, but the entrance was collapsed in… As I grew, I simply couldn’t get back out.”

Gnome suddenly says: “We can get you out of here!”

We're all like “Oh no”

Dragon is instantly interested, he hasn’t seen the sky in hundreds of years.

Dragon essentially says: “If you can get me out of here I won’t eat you”

It turns out the cleric can cast polymorph, so she says: “I can polymorph you into something smaller but we ask one thing of you…you kill the aboleth for us.”

The dragon really wants out of here so he’s like: “fine I’ll do it”

So she polymorphs him into a spider, puts him on his shoulder and the gnome the we followed guides us out.

We head back to the aboleths chamber, and we tell it: “We have brought you the leader of the gnomes”. The Cleric lets the spider walk forward enough and ends the polymorph.

Boom. Fat black dragon.

The aboleth is suddenly like trying to mind control this dragon (which it is way too smart for).

The dragon just laughs. It picks the aboleth up by the tail and essentially whacks it against every conceivable surface in the cavern before tossing it aside.

M: Power moves in this house 😂😂

F: the aboleth flops dead, obv

M: obvs

F: The dragon is like: “Take me above ground, NOW!”

We're like: “oh god oh fuck how we doing this?”

The gnome can teleport… but the child sorcerer decides to tell the dragon that the quickest way above ground is through the territory of the mind flayers… which is the way we are going… to a Drow city......

u n d e r g r o u n d .

The dragon believes her and starts stomping through the mind flayer territory killing them left right and centre. We just stop and realise what she’s done and we're thinking: “We need to stop that dragon because we are going in the same fucking direction… to not over ground”

M: Why tf would they even try fuck the dragon around? 😂😂

F: The gnome explains that if we can convince the dragon to come back, we can teleport it above ground if we have an item and a description of a place it has been, so she instantly runs after the dragon to convince it, leaving us 1 irl minute to decide what and where it’s going. One party member suggests my bow because we got it from a volcano in a timey wimey temple but I’m like “no thats fucking stupid the teleporter goes with the dragon” so I say “my boot was on the ship right?, the ship I met the group on?”

DM says yes

Meanwhile, while all this was happening, one of the mind flayers had come over and asked us why we had released a dragon in their territory. We explain, so they ask if we can get rid of it, offering safe passage through their territory in return (More incentive to do what we were already doing)

M: 😂 Oddly civil of them

F: So, she starts walking back with this dragon and I had over my boot the dragon says the girl is coming too. At this point the gnome, the sorcerer and the dragon are planning to go to the ship that I forgot got blown up and ripped apart. They take the boot and then *poof*.

M: oh god 😂

F: The DM starts to describe the trio poofing to the dock of Ashelok (which is the city that is still rebuilding from the red dragon we defeated there and the literal meteors that the green man bombed it with because he wanted these shards we we're collecting off us).

It was at this point that I realised…

I’ve just helped re-enslave an entire city to a black dragon. A city that we helped liberate from it’s previous Red Dragon ruler… that *we* saved them from.

Big heckin’ mistake

M: Maybe.....maybe he was a nicer dragon 😂😂

F: Well…

The black dragon instantly demands the towns wealth be transferred to him and announces himself leader of the town. The gnome and the sorcerer with him get put up in the best rooms in the tavern per the dragon's request.

The mind flayer that greeted us offers us some tea, which obviously I try and so does the barbarian. It's delicious! That is until I later find out its brain juice and I stop drinking it.

M: 😂😂😂 Fucking hell, what a night

F: The mind flayer shows us their city and their big brain, we learn a little about their culture and how they’re actually quite civilised. They put us up for the night in a minimalist inn where we use a strange tube we acquired earlier to send notes and small things to the other group. I write the following note to them (Irl so the DM can hand them it):

‘We fucked up. I’m sorry, we may have caused a problem that we may have to fix later!

– love, team stealth '

M: Lovely message, very foreboding.

I'm....very surprised the Mind Flayer didn’t kill you given that you were the cause of the whole dragon issue 😂

F: only because we stopped more of them from being killed

M: You still got a tonne killed in the first place though 😂😂

F: As the morn comes and they’re able to teleport back to us again, the Mind Flayers give us a timer to leave before our truce ends. We say “Fair enough, we shall leave, thank you for having us, goodbye”

Then we end the session back at the meeting place and to the other two teleporting back with my boot.

Worst thing is we can’t tell the other group… they’re gonna receive the note when their part of the campaign commences

M: 😂😂 When you meet back up, they'll have about 80 theories as to what you've done

F: Yepp XD

M: Damn… All that just because a grumpy fish wouldn’t let you pass

F: A big grumpy fish with telepathic powers

M: This is the kinda shit you gotta put on tumblr, so I can later pin it to my DnD Pinterest boards *(Then I did it anyway because I’m impatient lul)*

F: ikr XD

#D&D #DnD #dnd campaign #dnd homebrew #Dnd Story #D&D story #Dragon #Black Dragon #Cave #Aboleth #Fucked it #Fucked up #Heck #Mind Flayers

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worseandworser · 6 years ago

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What doesn’t kill you

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

This is a weird mix of ABO, chimera!Ed, and the werewolf!Ed, I guess.

Ship: RoyEd

Summary: “You were on a mission,” Ed turns to Alphonse, who carries on with the explanation, “There was this alchemist messing with chimeras, Brigadier general Mustang sent you there to check, and apparently you got caught up in a transmutation.”

Oh. That would explain why Edward can’t remember the basement.

Rating: Mature (chances of turning n/s/f/w)

Warnings/tags: AU, Post fmab, Pining, Scenting, Taller!Ed jhagdcfjh, werewold-chimera!Ed

read on ao3

The first two weeks, Edward stays inside voluntarily, which is a surprise. Winry brought with her a provisory prosthetic that makes him ache in disgraceful places, so he refuses to ear it — and hopping around the streets is not exactly comfortable. Alphonse is, as always, the best brother ever and brings him books from the Central’s library. Someone from the team calls him from time to time. Not much else happens.

The rest of the month, however, with a new and fitting automail leg, is a constant struggle to adapt. Not that he’s resigned to his current transmuted form — a few extra centimeters don’t hurt, right? — but outside of his and Al’s flat exist many challenges. The overwhelming mix of scents is one, and his newly found hearing sensibility proves to be another. He can hear Alphonse’s breathing from the other side of the room and car horns make him flinch like a frightened animal.

Of course, there are a few other noteworthy changes. His reflexes are sharper — he’s become a master of picking falling things up before they hit the floor — and acquired a weird taste for undercooked meat. Sleeping is a mystery; either he sleeps too much or stays wide awake for days in a row without much trouble. Even the new height isn’t perfect after all, since he’s still not used to the new balance point and fuck spending money on new clothes.

And his discomfort isn’t taken seriously apparently, because no one lets him see the goddamned array.

It takes Mustang a bit to give Alphonse any information. One morning Hawkeye shows up at their doorstep and drags the younger Elric out. Since then, the two arseholes have been working on the alchemy alone, not even bothering to share any of their research. That obviously angers Ed to no end, that he is being kept in the dark even though he’s the only one who was affected by the transmutation. It’s not really safe for him to be around the General, yes, and he will not get into much details about that, but it’s not justifiable. Alphonse could at least give him an update. Or Mustang could stop being such a controlling freak and just pass the whole thing onto Edward — he could surely work it out way faster.

Instead, they leave Ed to his own devices — which are, basically, trying to not get angry at people for how they smell. He begins to catalogue scents to try to avoid that precisely. He’s mostly looking for a pattern: what he likes and what makes him uncomfortable, those that calm him and those that leave him on the edge of a rage outburst.

Winry’s is a bit like dark chocolate — bitter, but sugary. Edward would never admit to her that he enjoys it very much, or that it brings a protective feeling to his chest as it does. It’s pleasant, not as calming as Alphonse, though it never fails to remind him that, yes, he does have a place to call home.

Hawkeye, the only member of the team he’s seen besides Mustang, smells like apple pie. Shocking, too shocking, so shocking Edward lock himself up in his room to laugh for a good half-an-hour. He expected so many things for her, but the sweet aroma of freshly baked goods was not one of them.

Most of the neighbors have what Ed started calling background scents — like street noise, perhaps; it’s there but not enough for you to care. One day, while collecting the correspondence, he bumps into the lady that lives next door: he sniffs at her, notices the perfume that is inherently hers, and forgets it as soon as he gets home. Background scent. Not that they even meet enough for Ed to remember her name, for god’s sake.

But he must thank her because it’s that fateful encounter that helps him gather the courage to leave the building.

For the first attempt, he begs for Alphonse to accompany him. There’s no way to know how far the heightened olfaction fucked up his already fucked up social behavior, and Al has to help him with that since he refuses to explain him the transmutation. It’s only fair. They go at night — fewer people, less noise, fewer chances of sending Ed spiraling down into an anxiety attack.

And everything goes well.

Edward can barely contain his relief. Yes, he can smell drunkards almost a whole block away and can partially comprehend conversations taking place across the street, but so what? It’s a beautiful, breezy summer night and Ed is not even bothered in the slightest. From time to time, Alphonse frowns at the sky, but Edward brushes it off as the usual worrying.

The following morning Ed feels bold, so he goes alone and only a few hours before lunchtime. There are cars everywhere now and he flinches a couple of times, and by the third block, the scents start mix curiously. He no longer detects each specific smell, but rather a mix of many things, which he probably won’t ever be able to explain to Alphonse. Street scent, perhaps, as if city and inhabitants are an entity in and of itself, — and Ed feels it all at once.

Like a machine or a body, he muses, a bunch of pieces that can’t be separated ‘cause they’ll just stop working.

He goes back home an hour later and by the doorstep he is certain of what they’re having for lunch.

“You shouldn’t go out today.”

Edward glares at the only other person in the room, “And why the fuck you’re—“

“I mean it, Brother,” Alphonse lowers his notebook to properly look at the older Elric, “maybe you should keep it low this week.”

“‘M not tired.”

“I can see that but that doesn’t mean you’re fine,” Al snorts, “it’s pretty clear that you’re not fine.”

Which is true. All Ed has been doing since yesterday is walk around the flat, fidgety and hyperaware. He didn’t sleep a minute, instead going for a long, mindless walks — during one of those he almost attacked a cab driver; the guy was asking for it when he mistook Ed for a woman and catcalled him. He wants to go out again, his whole body is itching for it, he can’t stand being inside anymore, he’s been inside all day already

“I am fine,” he smiles, trying to reassure the other, “I’m great, actually. I feel like I could run a marathon.”

“Thank you for proving my point, it’s almost night, please, don’t leave the apartment.”

And Ed does agree with him, partially. He shouldn’t leave, not when he’s feeling this skittish — who knows what reactions a busier environment could bring. But the prospect of staying in makes him feel like a caged animal, and he can’t have that. So he brushes Al off with a half-assed promise that he’ll be back soon, and exists their home a bit too eagerly.

Lacking a destination, Ed is once again a wandering man. Not that this is a bad thing, no: Edward is more at home when he’s wandering. Be it a short circuit around the block or a trip across the country, his home has always been the path and not the destiny. There’s no better feeling than shoving your hands inside the pants’ pockets and looking for a thing that you don’t really know you need until you bump into it.

He buys an apple from a street vendor and eats in large, fast bites, cleaning his hands on his shirt afterwards. His feet take him far away from the flat, and Edward is a mere spectator who watches as streets pass by and are left behind. At Av. Marston Court, he takes a left, and that’s when the idea of checking a bookshop pops up in his mind. With surer steps, he makes his way to the one on the crossing, which sells used books for a very interesting price — ideal for when Ed plans to stock up reading material.

The place is filled with dusty boxes and dustier shelves, and Edward breathes in the delicious smell of mold and old books. In this specific store it’s stronger, and not because Ed’s newly found olfactory prowess, but rather because it is. Naturally, inherently. He leisurely strolls through the stacks, his eyes falling on covers and titles and author’s names but not searching for anything in particular.

And then his nose picks up—

—that.

It’s not as strong as the first time, but it still makes him freeze up mid-way through reaching for a book. The hairs of his nape stand on end, his back instantly goes straight, and every muscle of his body tighten. He can almost hear the loud thud of his heart, beating heard and fast as if trying carve a way out of Ed’s chest.

Roy, his brain provides uselessly, Roy Roy Roy—

He sniffs, trying to pinpoint the man’s location; in the store, yes, but where. Stumbling through the aisles, he has to refrain from running towards the alluring smell — but he does follow it, like an eager puppy, looking into each corridor aisle hopefully every turn he makes.

As Edward gets used to the scent, the intensity of his reaction decreases significantly. He halts, scolding himself for his behavior; what gives him the right to stalk Mustang like this, especially when his feelings are... platonic? Feeling his face burning, he lowers his head and slumps against a shelf, shame building up and insisting for him to leave as soon as—

“Fullmetal?”

“Not an alchemist anymore...”

Roy is over there, and then right by Ed’s side because of course he would have to get closer. The blue military jacket hangs from his forearm and he is holding a book with a grey paper cover — a novel, probably, and, although Ed has never been one to read fiction, he still wants to ask about it. And he looks good — even if he’s in those clothes Edward always sees — since there’s probably not a single moment in the man’s life he doesn’t.

“Old habits die hard, I suppose.”

”It’s been years now,” he snorts, “I know your old man memory makes it all harder, but it’s time for you to catch up already.”

The raven-haired man opens his mouth, and rapidly closes it again — instead of words, what comes out is laughter. A small huffed sound that Edward takes a moment to admire.

“What’s so funny, Mustang?”

“Nothing, it’s just— I was going to make a joke about your diminutive height, but I’m not entitled to that anymore.”

Ed’s grin is larger than the Drachman border, “Fucking finally.”

They’re eye to eye now. In fact, Edward is even a bit taller, but that might just be the angle — or biased by Ed’s strong desire to one-up Mustang in something. The blond breathes in deeply, letting that overwhelming scent warm him up deliciously; his knees go a bit weak and he blinks at Roy in an attempt to regain his focus.

“Do you feel well enough to go back to work now?” Roy asks, with worry furrowing his brows.

“...”

“It’s been almost four weeks now.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, it’s just things have been kinda… complicated.” Ed has no idea if the slow nod Mustang gives him means more days off or simply acknowledgement, so he adds: “but I can go back whenever.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m feeling good and all that.”

Roy bites the corner of his bottom lip, “Yes, but I mean are you sure?”

Oh, Ed shivers, he’s talking about that.

To say Roy knows a thing about that, would be a blatant lie — Ed had been very quick to shout for Mustang to get out that day. Still, the thought doesn’t stop the spike of fear, and neither the annoyance burning its way through his throat. He has to remind himself to stay calm, that Mustang probably thinks Ed just gets uncomfortable with his scent, that Alphonse would never expose him in such way.

Ed sighs, and this time the warmth that comes with inhaling settles in his chest, cocooning itself like a small animal underneath his ribcage.

“It’s alright, I’m getting used to the whole hypersensitivity thing, it doesn’t bother me so much.”

For the smallest second, Ed is sure he sees—

—that flash of disappointment.

Yeah, that’s pretty stupid, isn’t it?

Their following exchanges’ themes orbit around work, as they always do. Mustang tells him about Havoc, who was in charge of all paperwork involving the infamous Major Elric and couldn’t wait for said Major’s return to get rid of it. Edward chimes in when he supposes necessary, which is almost never — and his answers are mostly monosyllabic. As they exit the shop, Roy offers him a ride home in one of the military cars and Ed refuses, leaving the man baffled when he says he’ll walk back home.

He hangs around him until the car arrives, and he tells himself it is to keep Mustang company, but…

No one would really blame him for being selfish just this once, right?

#royed #safe RoyEd #fma #edward elric #Roy Mustang #werewolf ed

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midgetmeredith · 8 years ago

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enixamyram replied to your post: Do you hate miraxus bc lack of moments or bc it’s…

So, no joke. What moments have they actually had? I can only think of two. One where Laxus made Mira cry and where she called him heartless, and one where Mira spoke to him while he was unconscious (something I am sure Mira would do for any other friend if they were in the same situation).

Right? I know shipping is subjective, but those are hardly “moments”. Like I said in my other post, I was genuinely surprised that they were even a thing once I’d caught up with the manga and got into the fandom… I even tried to find some supposed “moments” under their Wikia page to justify them myself, but it was just scarce interaction (that I already knew of) with no romantic subtext; each synopsis was pretty much grasping for straws.

Sorry, I’ve received a fair few asks about this, so I’m just going to bang them all out in one go! ⚠️

Warning: As with my previous posts, the following is quite heavily ‘anti-Mir/axus’. 🚫

Side-note: @anons, a male and female character standing beside one-another or merely communicating doesn’t justify or validate a ship, nor does it provide a rational basis to them being romantic, you know? I mean, just please remember that (non-‘crack’) shipping primarily exists because (at least) one party’s affection is confirmed; they have emphatically expressed romantic interest in the other. In this case, Freed has canon-depicted feelings for Laxus. Whilst Laxus’ knowledge and possible requiting of them is indeed implicit; not yet confirmed but potentially implied (through moments alike to the other ships’), they are usually excused and demeaned... Like, isn’t it odd how a male and female can have the bare minimum – like, a marginally substantial/logical cover – and be accepted without question, whilst a same-sex couple with the same reasoning would be laughed at [for its shippers demanding to take it seriously] and disregarded as “crack”? Fraxus’ moments (some of which paralleling the same dynamic as the semi-canon pairs) are dismissed by some, due to being the same sex, despite various scenes from M/F pair-ups – of a (sometimes) greatly inferior/insubstantial nature – being accepted. When revisiting the Wiki’s cited chapters, I confirmed my views on Mir/axus’ rationality (or, “crack-ship...ness” 😅), as neither Laxus nor Mira have canon-suggested romantic interest in the other... They actually have very limited interaction in general, which is oddly deemed as “evidence”, in spite of their only substantial mutual scenes conveying very negative themes to them as a pairing.

Interaction #1 – Chapter 25:

Mira alerts the Master that one of the requests from the second floor’s [S-Class] board is missing. The entire guild is seen to be shocked, whereas Laxus brushes it off, saying that he had noticed “a cat burglar with wings” sneaking up the night before. Mira, Alzack & Bisca – among other members of the guild – are visibly distressed; concerned for Happy, Natsu & Lucy. Laxus jokes that they that they’ll likely “never come back”/die, in response to Jet’s comment of taking a [higher-class] quest without permission; breaking the rules and potentially warranting expulsion.

Mira is understandably angry that Laxus passively sent unqualified teenagers into danger without a care for their safety, enquiring why he didn’t stop them (since he is one of very few Mages allowed on that floor, Mira included). Again, he makes light of the dire situation, lying that he wasn’t to know it was Happy/for Natsu. Mira reacts with an angry glare, to which Laxus comments he hasn’t seen [the expression] in a long time, referencing her ‘Demon’ persona.

...I’m sorry, but how that has been perceived as romantic? 😬 Mira used to have a very different character; one more akin to her ‘demon’ self, and Laxus – along with the other guild members – have known her long enough to have seen said times when she used her magic much more frequently than she does now, and been present throughout her mellowing change into the much softer person they all know her to be now.

Interaction #2 – Chapter 51:

It’s beyond me how their following interaction can be regarded romantically either! Laxus literally states that he’s – quite vulgarly – sexually attracted to Lucy and harasses Cana...

When the Master is in critical condition [after their conflict with Phantom Lord] and they can’t locate/contact Mystogan, Mira and Cana turn to Laxus for help. They beg him to “come back and help Fairy Tail in its darkest hour”, to which he responds cynically; laughing that Makarov “finally got his [subjective comeuppance]”. He tells them: “Do it yourself”, that it has “nothing to do with [him]”. After arguing that he shouldn’t clean up Makarov’s mess, Mira pleads that he must, since Phantom Lord are “after Lucy”, one of their own. Laxus’ response reads: “Really? So am I!! She’s that new girl with the big jugs, right?”

He continues: “Tell her [Lucy] that if she’ll be my woman, I’ll help out.” He then demands another condition, in which Makarov must retire and make him Master. He voices an evil laugh and proceeds to show his tongue at the notion of Cana stripping for him (“The least you can do is strip for me!!!”) after she becomes enraged and almost insults him, to which he testifies is no way to “nicely ask a guy to do a favour”. He then attempts to persuade her by admitting that he’s “easy when it comes to sexy [people]”, before his Communications Lacrima is destroyed by Mira, who is distressed; crying and infuriated with his refusal to help his supposed friends and by his disgusting behaviour. Her dialogue reads: “I can’t believe that man!!! Can he really be a member of Fairy Tail...?!!”

Both scenes [this chapter & 25] were to provide build-up for Laxus’ upcoming arc, in which he would play the ‘antagonist’; seeking the title of Master and showcasing little care for his grandfather or guild-mates, as hinted here (in both chapters).

If anything, this chapter is more so evidence for La/Lu and Lax/ana; with Laxus showcasing physical attraction to their appearances.

Interaction #3 – Chapter 276:

The next scene is a small comedic panel, in which Mira questions Juvia when wondering if Laxus gets motion sickness [like the other dragon slayers]. He responds: “Don’t say a word to anybody else!” Juvia comments that she thinks “the secret is already out”.

...Apparently that’s a “moment”. Again, it would be a different situation if they were the same sex though, right?

Interaction #4 – Chapter 279:

After Mira’s win against Jenny – wherein she showcased the power of her Satan Soul – Laxus comments [to Jellal] that Mira is someone “you never want mad at you”.

I’ve seen this small panel praised by shippers as a “#proud of bae” moment – in contrast to how I personally perceived it as a funny ‘#big dude scared of sweet, smaller girl’s psycho ass and insane power’ kind of gag – yet my petty ass can’t help but compare Laxus’ expression in [the two focal pages of] chapters 460 & 473, in response to the “proud” remark:

“Thanks a lot, Freed... There’s no wizard that could break your spells...”

The above interactions are as far as Laxus’ point of view in the ship go, as the following are exclusively from Mira’s perspective. Not only are the above panels quite lacking, but they also convey no tangible interest from Laxus himself... I mean, the first two [25 & 51] feature him mocking the guild and actually expressing romantic/sexual interest in two other women. Both show Mira to experience negative emotions to him/his presence, even to the extent of crying. The latter [276 & 279] depict him with an indifferent, dull expression; much like his seemingly tedious/uninterested appearance in the cover pages, which are seen as the prime reasoning behind the ship (of which, I can actually understand).

It might also be worth noting that whilst Laxus was quite emphatically sexually aggressive in chapter 51, he shows no apparent interest – i.e. blushing or otherwise – here. In fact, he actually bears a [“tedious”] sweat-drop. Although, the tips of his fingers do seem to be slightly hidden by her dress. As stated, I (of course) do agree that 380’s cover is the only credible rationale to the ship’s existence, as well as the origin of many of its shippers’ interest.

Interaction #5 – Chapter 286 & 287:

The Wikia page commented here on Mira’s reactions to Laxus’ fight, which again seems to be grasping for straws, considering: ( 1 ) The solo-panel focus on Freed, in comparison to Mira’s group [Team B] shots; signifying her to simply be part of the [guild’s] crowd, rather than receive exclusive attention that would convey importance to that character; like how Levy was depicted separately in Gajeel’s fight against Rogue.

( 2 ) Freed’s intensity and emotions, in comparison to Mira’s:

Considering its argued that Mira has romantic interest in Laxus, you’d think that she’d be a little more expressive during his fight, yet a handful of other (supposedly irrelevant) characters seem to be more distressed seeing him in pain than she does. Even when his fight is announced, whilst Mira does cheer for him with a slight blush, both Natsu and Cana are also depicted with the same expression when they likewise outspokenly support him, which is also the case after his win.

Interaction #6 – Chapter 359:

In regards to the previous chapter [358], the Wikia page states: “When she hears [that Laxus, Freed, Bickslow & Evergreen have been infected], Mira looks both shocked and horrified, more so than the other guild members.” Yet, Elfman and Natsu look equally – if not arguably more – “shocked and horrified” at the news...

Again though – only because it’s pretty relevant – you could compare Freed’s reaction to Laxus’ actions alone, to Mira finding out that all four of them are in poor health (just particularly Laxus more so):

Although, I will admit that the following scene [359] is the only decent, somewhat understandable rationale to the ship – as clarified, alongside 380’s cover – in my opinion. It features [two of] the Strauss siblings seated beside the team in the infirmary. Mira is seated by Laxus and speaks whilst he is unconscious: “Laxus... We heard what you did from Freed...”, “You’ve truly started to put your friends first!”, “I’ll never forget the courage you showed!”

Whilst I still personally perceived this page as more of a sweet FT “nakama” moment – rather than something romantic – finding it more so heartwarming, particularly in light of their past conflict and Laxus’ former behaviour, I can recognise how it might be interpreted in another way, considering her expression. Although, again, I guess a comparison of Mira & Freed’s reactions [to Laxus’ actions] could potentially be argued?

I mean, considering (especially) that Freed is actually confirmed to have romantic interest in Laxus, whereas Mira’s alleged feelings are simply a fandom-based headcanon, you know? Like, the type of affection behind Mira’s panels [in this chapter and the previous one] are still subjective, whilst Freed’s are actually to be understood alongside his existing, known feelings; which places deeper meaning on his pages and strengthens his panels [regarding Laxus].

Other justifications:

Similar to the ridiculous rationale of Ro/wen being shipped solely for being “the same age” – which isn’t even correct – the same basis has been used for Mira and Laxus, which again is incorrect. Despite being seen as two of the oldest [of the younger generation’s] members, the age gap between Mira and Laxus is almost alike to that between Natsu and Wendy* (i.e. 19 & 23 and 12 & 17 – comparably four and five years). *Which, of course, isn’t all too big of a deal once both parties are over 18 (considering its a relatively small bracket), but my point is highlighting the dynamic in how said parties perceive the other due to the age gap.

They’re also shipped because they’re both S-Class members of the guild. Like, what? I don’t personally ship them romantically, but Erza and Mira are also S-Class... Oh, and they actually have plentiful interaction, much more development, substantial chemistry, a plausible history to back them up, etc.

Like I said in my previous post, FT is an emphatic series – i.e. you know of a ship’s existence; usually because one party’s affection is made very apparent, or because they are heavily implied due to the fan-service nature of the series. So if it were any other shonen – of which are usually more implicit in romance and mere interaction can suffice as a ‘moment’ – then I’d give the benefit of the doubt and I probably wouldn’t be as against them as I am. But Mir/axus’ lack of development and panel-time in ten+ years can’t be excused by them being secondary characters or not a “main” ship... I mean, just look at Elfgreen! Or the Sabertooth and other minor guilds’ ships.

Summary:

Mira and Laxus only have three scenes of mutual communication (out of five alleged “moments” throughout the ten year serialisation), with ⅔ on exceedingly negative terms that result in immense opposition, and the other being a small comedic panel with likewise no romantic implication.

Neither party have expressed romantic feelings for the other; stated or otherwise, unlike all other (non-‘crack’) FT ships. Yet Laxus has even gone so far as to showcase sexual attraction to other women.

Outside of his malicious expressions in their first two interactions, Laxus’ emotions proceed to be indifferent and dull in their following two panels.

Again, of course everyone is free to ship what they want; “crack-ship” or not! Hell, I’ve crack-shipped some Naruto pairs as a guilty pleasures myself. But, like I said, my peeve is in others ignoring and replacing present & developed queer ships for heterosexual ‘crack’ ones; claiming them to be anything but and demeaning the homosexual pairing. Like, having panels where male and female characters (who are in the same guild) are in close proximity doesn’t justify them as a romantic pair or act as “proof”, you know? 🙄 But, hey, everything detailed above – as well as my previous posts – are in response to asks and replies! Yeah, I don’t like Mir/axus for reasoning explained, but I love the characters and I didn’t necessarily want to intentionally attack the ship or pit them against Fraxus prior to the messages. So, sorry about that! ✌🏼

#sorry for the long post!#anti miraxus #pro fraxus #fairy tail #fairy tail text #reply

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amorremanet · 8 years ago

Note

For the meme: Hunger Games?

my all-time ultimate fave character: Katniss and Finnick. Like, I have a lot of them who I love, but Katniss and Finnick are tied for my number one spot.

a character I didn’t used to like but now do: Mrs. Everdeen took a while to grow on me, but by the end of Mockingjay, she really had.

a character I used to like but now don’t: tbh, it’s not that I used to like Peeta and now don’t, because I never really liked him and I still wouldn’t say that I dislike him, personally

—but there’s a lot about Peeta, especially with regard to his and Katniss’s relationship, that I find troublesome for various reasons (e.g., the way that Katniss, who is definitely canonically dark-skinned and is written against a backdrop that’s blatantly inspired by the racialized dimensions of classism and poverty, is always contextualized as Not Really Deserving the blonde white boy, who is regularly written in terms that are super not subtle about comparing him to Jesus)

To say nothing of how the text itself seems to agree with this idea, and does shit like go, “Wow, Peeta is oppressed by the Capitol too, like damn Katniss how much of a bitch are you, I mean your family and Gale’s only haven’t very literally starved to death because you and Gale know how to hunt, but wow, damn, Peeta had to help make the goat cheese and apple tarts and he wasn’t allowed to eat them because they were too expensive, that’s totally the same thing as people in the Seam literally starving to death”

Like, I’m not saying that Peeta and his family weren’t oppressed by the Capitol, because they were…… but it’s explicitly established in-text that the Capitol manufactures gradations as part of how they try to keep the Districts all fighting each other instead of fighting them, so yes, Peeta and his family did not experience the same thing as Gale, Katniss, and theirs, and part of that difference was how the Mellarks didn’t need to worry about getting enough to eat, they just couldn’t eat the expensive treats

The thing that bugs me the most, though, is the way that Peeta has supposedly been in love with Katniss since they were kids — except……… how? How can you say that he has truly been in love with Katniss when he, by his own goddamn admission, knew basically nothing about her and never even tried to get to know her for real? I’d buy that he was in love with his ludicrous headcanons about Katniss, but that’s not the same as being in love with Katniss Everdeen: Actual Person

And sorry not sorry, Peeta, but it is NOT true that you, “couldn’t talk to her”; you COULD have talked to Katniss and you chose not to talk to Katniss or deal with her at all in any context where you didn’t have the power of life and death over her (whether it was because she was literally dying of starvation, or because she needed you to make her look sympathetic to viewers in the 74th Games, and you needed her to literally and immediately keep you alive)

……Also, his version of how he fell in love with her has way too much in common with Dante Alighieri’s account of how he first fell in love with Beatrice Portinari for me to be truly okay with it, because Dante is one of the Western Literary Canon’s biggest examples of entitled dudebros who objectify women even while they claim to adore them (because over-idealizing someone is a form of dehumanizing them).

This said, I still don’t dislike Peeta. I just don’t think he’s that great, or that he’s as pure and innocent and cinnamon roll-ish as the books and fandom all make him out to be. Even without my misgivings about Ever*lark, ffs, he is one of the sneakiest, most manipulative characters in the series, and his BS sense of entitlement doesn’t only come out with Katniss

a character I’m indifferent about: Presidents Coin and Snow are both well-executed villains, but I don’t have a lot of feelings about them, personally. They were actually helped by the movies, for me, because Donald Sutherland and Julianne Moore were both really good in their roles, and it made me like them a little more, even if it still didn’t make me have feelings about them or anything

a character who deserved better: Most of them, tbh, but my top six are (in no particular order) Johanna, Madge, Rue, Annie, Finnick, and Gale

a ship I’ve never been able to get into: Katniss/Peeta, see above

But also? Gale/Madge. In my experience, the whole thing only exists so people can have some kind of “uptown girl” fantasy and go, “Look, see, I don’t hate Gale!!! Stop saying that I hate Gale!!! Just let me shove him off to the side and completely mischaracterize the shit out of him and pair him up with Madge for no reason beyond getting him out of the way so I can have Katniss/Peeta!!!!”

Also, Madge Undersee is a lesbian. #sorrynotsorry

Even worse: Effie/Haymitch. For one thing, both of them are gay. I don’t know what books everybody else is reading, but in MY copies of the books, Effie and Haymitch are both gay as fuck, why would you pair up a gay man and a lesbian like that unless it’s like, a situation where Effie and Haymitch get married so no one knows that they’re actually married to Portia and Cinna, respectively

But aside from that (because it’s admittedly a matter of my own headcanons even though I refuse to back down from them), I just??? Effie/Haymitch is just so blatantly a bunch of straight nonsense, pairing the two of them up because he’s a man and she’s a woman and therefore any time they exchange more than two words, it’s ~flirting~ even when Effie has HAPPILY AND ENERGETICALLY been a part of the system that treats all the kids Haymitch as mentored as if their lives mean nothing, and she’s been helping shepherd them to their deaths without getting that this is not good until it affects Katniss and Peeta (which only makes Effie get it because she likes them), and as much as Haymitch’s distaste for Effie is understandable, a lot of his lashing out at her isn’t actually coming from a place of, “I object to you for these fair reasons” so much as it’s coming from a place of Haymitch being a troll for the sake of being a troll, and I just

Why

Why is this ship a THING

Why is it so fucking POPULAR

I only understand this phenomenon in the most cynical way possible (i.e., the way where my explanation for it is, “they are so popular because it’s an M/F ship and, in the movies, both of them are white, even though Haymitch has dark skin and black hair, and the same racialized poverty-coded background as Gale and Katniss, in the books”)

Also, both of them are gay, sooooooo……… #sorrynotsorry

a ship I’ve never been able to get over: Katniss/Johanna, Katniss/Madge, Katniss/Finnick, Annie/Finnick

a cute, low-key ship: Annie/Johanna, and in some AU where Rue and Prim both get to grow up, I think they’d be cute together.

Also, Gale/Peeta. I’m just saying, it’s a perfect solution to the issue of the alleged love triangle because it means neither of them ends up without a ship, but Katniss doesn’t have to be with either of them.

an unpopular ship but I still enjoyed it: dude, my only M/F “ship that deserves to be called an OTP” for Katniss is called a crack ship by most of the fandom, even though she and Finnick have better-written relationship development than Katniss/Peeta and even though Finnick consistently respects Katniss Everdeen: Actual Facts Person and not some shiny pretty pretty princess headcanon about her

Sure, he may not want to be her friend, at first, because he assumes, like she does, that friends are not A Thing that’s going to happen, and if he maybe feels like he has been tasked with babysitting her and Peeta during the Quarter Quell, then… that’s not actually inaccurate, because he was kinda tasked with babysitting them by the other rebels.

Like, helping the two of them to survive and getting them out of the arena was the job that Finnick and Mags were given by the other rebels, and he had to be more hands-on about it than, say, Johanna, since Katniss wanted to have an alliance with Mags, which meant she had to have one with Finnick

So, no. The two of them aren’t exactly cozying up to each other in Catching Fire, because both of them are playing certain parts and performing certain versions of themselves based on a lot of assumptions about How The Fuck This Shit Works and a lot of assumptions about their roles and positions in everything (which admittedly end up being less than accurate… because both of them have been manipulated and lied to by everybody who’s pulling the strings)

Anyway, I shouldn’t go on about this too much more because it will make me get defensive and angry, but Finnick and Katniss are my autistic children and they are not a goddamn crack ship and if I had money, I would pay people to stop saying that so I could look at their tags and only see people tagging everything with them as “BROTP,” as opposed to that plus people calling them a crack ship

Also: Finnick/Gale, Cinna/Haymitch, Annie/Katniss

Also, I didn’t really LIKE Gale/Katniss, but it made me feel more things than Katniss/Peeta (even if I have more thoughts on that one, that’s the thing: they’re thoughts, not Feels; the only thing that I ever really feel about Katniss/Peeta is frustrated), and the whole, “Katniss is all but explicitly suicidal and that’s why she wants to mack on Gale” thing from Mockingjay totally does it for a lot of my angsty catharsis interests

a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened: Effie/Haymitch. I went, “EEEUGH” out loud when they kissed, when I say MJ2 in the theatre, and I didn’t feel bad about it because: 1. all of the people who loved them collectively when, “AWWWWW”; and 2. eww, can you say, “what the fuck is this hetero pandering bullshit”

my favourite storyline/moment: The entire, “I drag myself out of nightmares and find there’s no relief in waking. Better not to give into it” scene, because I’m a human cliché and Katniss and Finnick are my autistic children. Also, any and every Joniss scene, because I’m garbage and a human cliché and I just want them to be together, is that so bad

a storyline that never should have been written: idk about anyone else, but I personally choose to live in a world where the series-long alleged “love triangle” was between Katniss/Madge and Johanna/Katniss, and the Katniss/Peeta stuff was only ever during the Games and not actually for real, and Gale and Peeta can go do each other or something, because fuck forced hetero love triangles, that’s why

Also? I’m willing to accept that Prim’s death was legitimately necessary for the plot and the narrative, in the same way that I hate Sirius Black’s death but accept that it was necessary for the sake of the story that JKR wanted to tell, so I can just go, “I see your point and I don’t begrudge you this in canon, but I am going to headcanon around it anyway because I don’t like it”

—but there was ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to kill Finnick. See, much like JKR’s senseless murders of Remus and Tonks in DH, Finnick’s death did nothing to make a point that hadn’t already been made multiple times over, and it added nothing to the story. Yea, like JKR before her, SCollins only killed Finnick for the sake of cheap shock value and reaffirming certain ideas about heroism that the rest of the series tried to deconstruct

It was pointless, it was senseless, it wasn’t necessary, and the story, characters, and readers all deserved better than that

Finnick Odair is happy and fine and he’s definitely alive, because all that unadulterated bullshit, “lmao finnick dies” crap never happened

my first thoughts on the series: uh. The first time I tried to read the books, I didn’t even get to the games themselves, because SCollins introduced Madge, introduced the backstory of her and Katniss being like kinda friends but kinda not but they’re not sure, and I was like, “ugh, why. I already know you’re going to make me suffer this bullshit between the two boys, but why would you hand me a totally valid and much more interesting F/F option. Why” and on the other hand, because Katniss reminded me too much of myself at a point when I wasn’t ready to deal with that

my thoughts now: We all deserved better, but I say that all the time about the HP series, too, so me feeling like the series was kind of a let down in various places and criticizing different aspects of it? Isn’t going to stop me from enjoying it

Also, Finnick is fine, Madge is fine, Effie and Haymitch are gay, Gale is bi, and most of my favorite characters are autistic because I said so, that’s why (—I mean, I actually have cases based on canon evidence for Finnick and Katniss, but my real rationale here is, “I want them to be autistic, so they are now, okay peace bye”)

#builttobalance #memes for ts #ask box tag #mine: memes #opinions for ts #criticism for ts #ship disliking for ts #the hunger games #mine: thg

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blu-b · 8 years ago

Text

In the Night Lands Chapter 24: Runaway

After being unmasked at the ball, Anders makes a fateful decision that will affect his life forever - and his husband’s, too.

Rating: M Warnings: Emotional distress, mentions of injuries, attempted rape at the end.

Read chapter at AO3.

Anders broke from his trance, finally seeing eyes, eyes everywhere, just eyes in paper faces, staring at him. They were protected by their masks while he was naked, utterly naked and alone, vulnerable. He covered his face with his hands, whispering, pleading.

"Please, give it back. Give it back!" He sobbed, and then all at once, time sped up again, and everyone was rushing for him.

He cried out and ran, ran blindly through the crowd, hands tugging at his clothes, ripping the expensive silk to shreds - the beautiful garment his husband had loved so much. He screamed, uncontrolled, unabated, as he ran from the great hall.

~*~

Mitchell's head was spinning. It was hard to breathe, hard to form a clear thought. The ball – his carefully prepared gift for Anders' name day – had ended in a mess. The grand atmosphere, the laughter, the dance, everything had collapsed like a brittle house of cards. For a heartbeat or two pure chaos reigned in the great hall: words, whispers, shouts, the rustling of gowns and the scuttling of feet, and in this chaos Mitchell lost track for a split second. He saw Anders running away, but even with vampiric speed he wasn't fast enough to catch him. The crowd swept forward like a wave, gawkers were pushing to the front line, soldiers were trying to hold them back, the marshal was shouting orders, all the while Mitchell frantically tried to push his way through the nigh impenetrable wall of bodies.

~*~

Anders ran – through empty corridors – everyone was at the ball; out into the yard, crossing it, in thin sandals and his flimsy clothes, through the gate – where were the guardsmen at this hour? – out, out, across the bridge and into the night, unmasked, naked, his golden gown billowing behind him.

~*~

Lauren’s green gown flashed up for a second and was gone again – Mitchell had had to let go of her when the commotion began, unable to deliver neither the speech he had in mind nor the much-desired blow to her arrogant face. The sea of people swallowed her, and she was gone. More and more people filtered into the ballroom as news of the incident spread like wildfire.

No one paid attention to the Crown Prince.

Mitchell stormed through the corridors, up the stairs, through halls and hallways until he reached their quarters, assuming Anders had fled to the safety of their haven. He didn't bother knocking on the door, just threw open the door, stormed inside and called his husband's name – but there was no answer.

~*~

He ran and ran, never tiring, never stopping, vaguely aware that Bragi was lending his body strength so he didn't kill himself. He ran until he was far away from the castle; he tore through the surrounding woods, through fields, and into another forest, this one larger and darker, but he hardly took notice of his surroundings.

~*~

"Anders?? Anders!!" He shouted over and over, looking for his husband in every room. The bath was empty as was the small reading corner, and there was really little else where Anders could be hiding – the balcony, perhaps?, but alas, he was not there either. Pulling back curtains, throwing open cabinet doors and even going to his knees to look under the bed proved fruitless: there was no trace of his husband. Noise came from the corridor, the rhythmic clanking of metal, and suddenly George appeared in the doorway.

"He's not here!" Mitchell yelled, his voice high and hysteric. "He’s not here!! Have you found him?"

George shook his head, mute and wide-eyed in the face of Mitchell’s terror.

"Help me! Search the castle! Search everywhere, please, help me find him! I'll look in the library…,” he said and was already out the door.

~*~

He didn’t know how much time had passed, or indeed where he was, whether he was still within the borders of the Night Lands or had already crossed into another kingdom.

Finally, when the moon was low in the sky, he fell, tripping over a long, grasping root, and he tumbled off the path, deep into the bracken.

~*~

The search came back empty. The blond prince was nowhere to be found. Mitchell was close to a breakdown when two guards were led into the room, relating in quick words how they had seen Prince Anders running out of the castle gates that had been open to allow the guests in for the night. With a shuddering sigh, Mitchell sank onto a nearby chair.

"Get my horse ready." He ordered, to no one in particular. "I'm going after him."

~*~

Eventually, after hours of running when his feet were sore and would refuse to carry him any further; when even the power of Bragi could not support the mortal body anymore, Anders broke down, alone in the forest, crying and wailing, mourning all that he had lost, for he could never go back.

Not now, now that they knew how horrible he was.

He could not make Mitchell defend him at every turn. He would stay here, in the forest, alone, the hermit he should have always been. And there, in the cold forest, after hours and hours of crying when dawn already broke, he finally passed out, clothes and skin torn, but his wounds were nowhere as painful as the ache in his heart.

~*~

George stepped up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mitchell, dawn is almost breaking. There's no use in riding out now. Let's wait until the night falls, we can build search parties and spread out…"

Mitchell stood without his own knowledge, a dark and menacing figure.

"My husband is out there. It's dark and cold outside, he's wearing nothing but some flimsy garments; there's wild beasts in the woods and you know very well that there are still marauding bands of enemies out there. I will not wait one second longer. NOW GET MY BLOODY HORSE READY!!!"

The werewolf captain bowed to his prince and left the room. Twenty minutes later, a group of riders thundered out over the drawbridge, armours shining in the light of their torches, and the leading figure dressed in a billowing red cloak.

~*~

The sun was just beginning to set again when Anders heard the thundering sound of hooves as if from a great distance. He was just off the road, easily visible so long as one were looking down. He lay listlessly beneath a tree, his cape drawn about him like a makeshift blanket. He had slept fitfully, drifting in and out of consciousness, and for a long while had just sat there and stared ahead. What was the point in moving, if he had lost all that he had won? If he had been in his right mind, he would have realized he was in shock, but as it was, he was barely focusing on breathing. If it didn't come naturally, he would have stopped by now, and forgotten to. He saw horses reign up before him, and voices, muffled voices through the echoing in his head.

~*~

"What have we here?" said the fat, red-headed man with the greasy, forked beard as he dismounted his mare with a groan.

"L-l-l-looks l-l-like a tasty l-l-little b-bite." The small one supplied, battling with his own tongue that refused to let the words out between broken, yellowed teeth.

"And what's one like him doing out here in the wild?" The haggard, tall one with the crooked nose mused; his black, hawkish eyes gliding over the scarcely clad figure in the dirt.

Anders' clothes, not very sturdy to begin with, were now torn in many places; giving away glimpses onto his body that only one man had been allowed so far. Anders, prince from the Land of Gods and husband to the Crown Prince of the Night Lands, however didn't care. His face was streaked with dirt and the riverbeds of tears, but he didn't care either. He just lay there with empty eyes, and didn't stir even when the three men started prodding his form with their feet.

The men spoke with the lilting accents of the Great Eastern Empire; their colourful costumes marking them as tradesmen from the grassland plains. Slave traders they were, and the young prince was a welcome - and free - addition to their stock.

"Young and blond. Nice body as well, as it seems. Well-shaped. Can't see any bigger injuries either." The haggard one stated after checking the prone body with schooled hands.

"He's d-dressed l-l-like a whore. M-maybe he escaped f-f-from one of the b-b-brothels they h-h-h-have in the c-c-capital."

"Would be a shame not to return him to his rightful place then. I'm thinking he could fetch a good price at the markets of Hamashtra. Will probably be shipped off to the Jungle Islands. Those snake worshippers have a special fancy for fair headed ones." Redbeard said with a leer, stripping the helpless body with his looks.

"But shouldn't we test the goods for quality first before we sell them? We wouldn't want disappointed customers now, would we?" The haggard merchant drew his knife.

The other two nodded, watching as their companion began slicing through the remaining layers of Anders' once precious gown.

"Let's see how much our blond beauty can take."

Anders didn't hear their cruel laughs or the rustling of clothes as the first of the men shoved his breeches down; he didn't feel their hands on him, stripping him bare. He was like a broken doll in their grip, his mind far, far away, acknowledging not even Bragi's fiery call for help.

It was quick, and it was dirty. The merchants felt nothing, save maybe a tiny rush of astonishment that let their eyes grow wide. They had not heard death approach. He came in a flash of black and red; he flew through the air out of nowhere; he tore through their throats with bare teeth and let out a world-shattering howl as he sliced through skin and brain and bones alike.

The last of the three, the stuttering one, was on his knees. His limp manhood hung out of his breeches and his left hand clasped the bleeding stump of his right. He begged for many things, for mercy and for his miserable life, but to no avail.

"No one touches what is mine," Death said.

The slave trader screamed. Pointed fangs were the last thing he saw, then there was silence.

#britchell #mitchers #the almighty johnsons #being human UK #john mitchell #anders johnson #night lands #in the night lands #medieval AU #arranged marriage AU #the-lion-of-durin #our writing

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pussyapocalypse · 8 years ago

Text

First Mass Effect: Andromda impressions, now that I’m sixteen hours in and not going to play again until tomorrow (thanks, Panic! At the Disco! Makes for a great week).

Potential spoilers under the cut!

- The facial animations are...not great, but it’s not really detracting from the game. Kind of horrifying when someone tries to grin but it’s not so hard to get over. Graphics are okay, but I don’t like close-ups on human faces because they’re...blotchy. I foresee playing in 4k making a difference, but I didn’t plan ahead far enough to get the PS4 Pro.

- The game definitely reminds me of ME1. At first, this was kind of annoying, but it’s starting to grow on me because now I’m seeing the resemblance to the way the worlds in Inquisition were laid out. There’s just so much world, too, but the fetch quests aren’t quite as grating as Inquisition. It’s less gathering items to give to someone and more...hey, there’s a shield over there. Go look at it. You looked at it? Great. Quest over.

- I have a mission called ‘kicking rocks for science’. It was given to me by a Turian scientist who asked me if I wanted to kick rocks for science. I love it. I’ve only kicked two rocks for science.

- I love Gil. My love for Gil grows more and more with each passing interaction. He did randomly ask me if I want to have kids someday and I can’t romance him, but he’s great and he’s officially my friend. He beat me in poker because I was honorable and didn’t cheat but if we play again I’m taking him down.

- Gil is afraid of Jaal because Jaal is the best poker player on the ship, next to him.

- I might have to fight Peebee for Jaal, ‘cause I get the feeling we’re both down with the squid-cat-man and he’s already told me how he enjoys flirting with me and he has also agreed to get to know me better. I love it, I love him, but I would fuck my way through all of Aya if I thought our thing wasn’t gonna work out. Something about the squid-cat-man. Pretty eyes, very pretty eyes.

- Cora annoys me. I hate to say it, but Cora sucks so far. I am a huge fan of overpowered women and people being with groups they wouldn’t have been in if they weren’t overpowered/super-competent, but every other fucking word out of her mouth is ‘oh, it’s so hard to be so overpowered’ or ‘everyone called me a freak growing up’ or ‘asari this asari that huntress commando blah blah’. I am cautiously optimistic that she’ll grow on me, when she moves beyond this, and I know she’s not happy that my dad picked me to be Pathfinder instead of her. That’s fair, I get it. It just feels like she’s trying to prove how much more qualified she is, until she breaks out the line that she’s always had a plan to follow. It’s never ‘here’s what I would do’, it’s always ‘what would your dad/the Asari do’. She wants to be leader but I think she’s better suited to being pointed in a direction and told to fuck shit up. As long as it’s a tactically sound command, anyway.

- I got to tell someone I was going to fuck their shit up. Verbatim. Loved it.

- I have a lot of Cora thoughts. I wanted to like her so badly, and I do understand what I’ve seen of her character so far. Grew up feeling like a freak, always different, taken on this grand adventure where her mentor immediately dies and instead of taking the crown it’s handed off to someone she sees as significantly less likely to get shit done--but I can only see her faltering if she were actually made Pathfinder, like she’d always be second-guessing herself. Kaidan had a similar background - crazy strong, grew up feeling like a freak, had a lot of tragedy in his early life because of his biotics, but his self-assurance makes all the difference.

- Maybe there should’ve been a designated chain of command instead of my dad going ‘here put this AI in your head everything will be fine’. I watched RvB - it was not fine. None of it was fine. A chain of command would have fixed half my problems with Cora if she never had expectations of taking the helm. Unless, of course, the chain of command went dad > Cora and she is rightfully pissed off that my piece of shit dad was like lol nvm. As far as I can tell, it was only implied that she might be Pathfinder if anything happened to him, but I’m not 100% sure. I am only sixteen hours in.

- You know who I actually outright hate in this game? Foster Addison. Holy shit, Foster Addison sucks. “I’m not your new mother” what the fuck does that mean you piece of shit? I don’t want you to be my new mother! Wtf. I hate her. Cora is an angel compared to Foster Addison.

- Maybe Cora doesn’t suck. Maybe I think she sucks because she’s bitter about shit and she’s handling it the same way I do in rl, by complaining. I don’t know. This is either bad writing or it’s too early in the game for her to really move on from that disappointment. As my Ryder, though, I’d probably throw her out the airlock because I can only assume I loved my dad and hearing her go on and on about ‘what would your dad do’ has to get grating. Like, dad’s dead, bro’s in a coma, I talked to bro once and he’s kind of upset that he’s in a coma and dad’s dead and our golden world was actually a shit world. I got things going on in my life too. I’ll have to contemplate Cora more; it says something, in a way, that she’s the one I’ve put the most thought into so far.

- My roommate’s playing m!Ryder to my f!Ryder. Apparently he has webbed toes, but only a few, and I had wisdom teeth but he doesn’t.

- Jaal is the most critical of my driving, but he’s very gentle about it. It still hurts my feelings. I’m assuming my Ryder never took so much as a Driver’s Ed class because jesus fucking christ.

- I tried to screech into a Kett encampment in the Nomad to run a few over before shootin’ ‘em dead. The encampment was on a cliff and I was going too fast. I didn’t hit any of them before promptly flinging the Nomad over the cliff. It was not dignified.

So far? I like the game a lot; the story is interesting and I’m constantly unsure of what decisions to make because I don’t know how it’ll impact the future; having this uncertainty is great, though, because I miss my actions having consequences. I also like that I am consistently referred to as an alien by the Angarans because, yeah, we’re definitely the outsiders here. Interesting to see how that unfolds.

I’m actually kind of bummed I can’t play again until tomorrow/that I had to stop early last night, but I get to see Panic! At the Disco and it’s going to be worth it.

#mass effect: andromeda #mea spoilers #me spoilers #i don't know how to feel about cora #someone share their cora opinions with me #cora harper

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dreamthinkimagine · 7 years ago

Text

Oliver - Chapters 5-8

Some scenery and dialogue are direct from or have been inspired y Star Trek TOS. I do not own Star Trek TOS. The information on carbon fiber was found in an article on Google. No copyright intended.

WARNING: Death and Depression

Chapter 5

"Dr. McCoy!" Scotty yelled. He was still trying to get a hold of the ship's surgeon. He'd been trying ever since the reception was interrupted. "Lt. Uhura, you're in charge." Scotty declared standing up.

"Yes, Sir," she said, and left her post for the big chair.

"Where are you going?" Sulu asked.

"I'm gettin' The Galileo n' goin' down there after 'em," with that he entered the turbolift. "Floor F." The turbolift moved down until it came to a smooth stop. He stepped out and made his way down the hall.

He pushed the button on the wall panel and the doors opened exposing The Galileo, one of the Enterprise's shuttlecrafts. He hopped in and closed the door.

"Alrigh' ol' girl, let's go save the Captain, Mr. Spock and Doctor McCoy." The Galileo started to hover and the big doors at the front of the room opened. It started to move forward with Scotty at the wheel. He flew out into open space determined to find them, and prayed that they were OK.

Chapter 6

"Is everyone OK?" Bones asked as he got up.

"I have suffered no significant damage," Spock replied rising from the ground and pulling his Captain up.

"I'm fine," said Kirk. "Except for my ankle." Bones helped take Jim.

"So much for a relaxing shore leave," Bones commented

"Why isn't there a fire?"

"What'd ya mean, Jim?"

"That thing was on fire. If it hit the ground, then why isn't anything else burning?"

"I don't know, unless it landed in..." McCoy slowly raised his head to look at Jim directly.

"The water..." Jim finished. He turned his head to his right to look at Spock. "What'd you think, Spock?"

"Considering the size, coordinates and velocity, there would seem to be a fair possibility of the projectile landing in the water."

"Go to the river," Jim said, and Spock and Bones helped him hop the distance. The sound of running water eventually got louder. Soon enough, the river was in view. "Look!" Jim pointed to the top of the waterfall and there it was, flames out and all. It floated closer and closer to the edge until it went over the edge.

Kirk, Spock and McCoy were soaked.

"Get it," said Jim.

Spock and Bones set him down on a near-by boulder. Bones and Spock walked into the river and walked further until they had to swim.

"I will retrieve it, Doctor," Spock said. "Vulcans are three times stronger than humans."

"Now wait just one minute, you green blooded-!"

"Doctor, before you continue, ask yourself this question, 'are you thinking scientifically or emotionally?'” The First Officer swam to shore with the object at hand before Bones could. It was a lot lighter than Spock had predicted and easily brought it to Kirk. That's when The Galileo landed. Its doors opened and out came a very grateful Scotty. Bones swam out of the water and set foot on dry land.

"Aw, thank Heaven yer all alrigh'. Wet, but alrigh'... What's that?" He asked pointing to the object.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Kirk replied.

"Well bring it aboard and we'll investigate." Spock lifted the object and took it inside. Jim grabbed onto Bones and Scotty for support.

"Twisted ankle," Bones explained as they got in. They sat him down in front of Bones. Kirk looked over to the object examining it, as Bones wrapped an adhesive wrap around his ankle. Once McCoy was finished, Kirk asked for the object and Spock brought it closer to him.

Scotty took the pilot's position at the front and took off. The planet got a little smaller as The Enterprise grew a lot bigger. He noticed something as The Galileo smoothly landed back inside his ship.

"I don't believe it," Kirk said. "This is from The Exploration."

Chapter 7

"It is indeed from The Exploration," agreed Spock back in the Sickbay. Bones ordered Jim to rest on a bed while they examine the object. "It appears to be a hand-made escape pod."

"You think anyone could be in there?" Jim asked. McCoy had no hesitation in attempting to pry it open. Spock, on the other hand, stared at McCoy as he switched a lock and the door slowly opened on its own.

There was someone inside. He was in a blue uniform (nothing was on his sleeves) with his head down. Doctor McCoy took out his medical scanner and ran it over the person inside. McCoy's eyes widened.

"You're not gonna believe this, Jim, but ... he's alive!"

"What?!" exclaimed Kirk.

"He's in a coma, but he's alive! Spock! Help me get him into a bed!" When they lifted him, they realized how short he was and that he had a backpack on. Kirk, who was sitting on a bed and being the only one who was not lifting him, gently took it off. Spock and McCoy placed him down in the bed next to Kirk "Look!" McCoy exclaimed and instantly set up his ratings.

Spock and Jim turned their attention to the unconscious man and discovered that it was no man at all, but a boy! The rumored child on The Exploration! "No permanent damage. Only a few broken bones," he took note. He grabbed a stockinet, cast padding and plaster cast and wrapped them around his right arm and left leg. Then he put on a brace on his ribs.

"Spock," Kirk said. "What is that escape pod made of?"

"It appears to be today's carbon fiber, Captain. Fire proof, water proof and extremely strong, but also weighs little, enabling it to protect the being inside upon impact. Logical for use as an escape pod."

"So you're saying that's how he survived with little damage?"

"Precisely, Captain."

"But then, why is he in a coma?"

"The impact, Captain. The carbon fiber kept him alive, but failed to completely protect him."

"No brain damage either," McCoy suddenly added. "Lucky, very lucky."

“Mr. Spock, since his brain isn’t damaged, how about a mind meld?” Spock walked to the head of the boy and placed his hands on his head. After a minute, Spock removed his hands. “What is it, Spock?” Jim asked.

“He is dreaming he is still on the ship. He is seeing everyone he has ever known and is constantly thinking about one man and one woman in particular.” Jim decided to start searching the bag. He put his hand up as a signal for Spock and McCoy to stop what they were doing when he found a zipper hidden in its side. He unzipped and pulled out a recorded tape.

"Spock," he said putting down the bag. "Play this."

Spock took it from Jim and slid it into the 3-sided computer. When it started there was a man with a woman next to him and in her arms was a sleeping baby wrapped in a blue blanket. The blanket matched the adults' shirts. Their sleeves had designs in them symbolling they were of rank. The man spoke first.

"I 'm Robert Codmar; Chief Medical Officer of the Starship Exploration." Jim felt bittersweet seeing his dead friend on screen. he wished he could stop time and reminisce about his childhood best friend, but the tape continued.

"My name is Gianna Codmar; First Science Officer of the Starship Exploration. Robert and I are married and this is our son, Oliver."

"If you're watching this, it means that our starship has been destroyed and you found our son in one of the escape pods my wife made. It also means my wife and I were unable to escape and are dead."

"We are begging you, please take care of our baby! Don't let Starfleet know! Just take good care of him, please!" Gianna started to cry. Upon hearing his mother cry, Oliver also began to cry. Gianna rocked her baby, trying to stifle his tears as Robert made a soft shushing sound.

"It's OK Honey; hopefully no one will ever have to see this," he said gently hugging her and his boy. The tape stopped there.

“Captain,” said Spock, “the man and woman in the tape were the man and woman that he was thinking of.” Kirk reached over and took the boy's hand.

"Spock, how long ago did The Exploration take off?"

"Thirteen years ago, Captain."

"Bones, how old is he?" McCoy pulled out his medical scanner again. He scanned for what felt like ages as its whirring filled up the room.

"Eleven. He's eleven-years-old."

"Then Gianna wasn't already pregnant when the Exploration took off. He was born and conceived on that ship."

"An illegal child, it would be logical to give him to Starfleet."

"You pointed eared hobgoblin! This has never happened before! Who knows what Starfleet would do?! Besides, we'd have to stop the mission."

"Not necessarily, Doctor," Spock argued. "We have been in space for approximately twenty-eight-point-three-nine days. The child would be able to survive in a shuttlecraft for that long, under supervision, of someone we can afford to lose, until taken to Starfleet where he or she will reside with him until told to do otherwise by The Federation."

Jim wasn't sure how to respond to all this. If they took him, it would cause chaos in The Federation, as they'd be searching every ship for children. On the other hand, Spock was right. It would be, as much as Jim hated the word, logical to turn him in, concerning their five-year mission. Although he didn't want to deny Robert and Gianna of their last request either. He needed to think.

"Mr. Spock, you may report to the Captain's chair for duty." Spock and McCoy stopped their arguing.

"Yes, Sir," Spock replied after a moment and left.

* * *

Later on that night, after Jim was asleep, Bones gently took the bag and looked through it. He found two things: a big green book that said, "FAMILY" on the cover in golden letters, and a stuffed lion toy. McCoy took out the stuffed animal and wrapped it in Oliver's arm. He thought he saw the boy smile slightly at this. Bones smiled back and gently tussled his chocolate-brown hair.

"Goodnight, Oliver," he whispered and quietly crept back to his quarters for some sleep.

Chapter 8

Days earlier, The Exploration had been a well and healthy ship. It was more than a ship to young Oliver though, it was home. He was born and raised on that ship; he had never even seen earth in person. He came running into the bridge passing the Captain.

"Hey, Buddy," Captain Neilson, his godfather, said to him. He just turned, smiled and nodded at him.

"Hey, Mom," Oliver greeted the First Science Officer.

"Hi, Oliver," replied the brown- haired woman turning around in her chair.

"Wanna play chess?" He asked eagerly. Gianna frowned.

"I'm sorry, Honey. I’m too busy right now. How about you go ask your father if he can do something with you."

"Oh," Oliver sounded disappointed. "Can we play later?"

"I promise." Oliver lightened up at this and went to the turbolift.

"Sickbay," he said and it started moving down. He really hoped his dad could do something. He didn't get to spend as much time with his parents as he'd have liked with them being key officers and all; but when he did get to do something with one of them, those moments were some of the happiest of his life.

The doors slowly opened and he ran down the hall.

"Hey, Dad!" Oliver said walking into Sickbay.

"Hey, kiddo! What'cha up to?"

"Well, Mom's busy so I thought we could do something."

"Well, I'm free until someone shows up; for once this place is empty. What'cha wanna do? Chess?" It was at that moment the red lights blinked on and off and the "Red Alert" alarm went off. "Oliver, go to your quarters."

Oliver left and ran for his room. He knew these battles never lasted long and they always won. His ship might be the least famous ship in the galaxy, but his ship could fight. And that, he was proud of.

Throughout the halls, crewmen were reporting to their battle stations. Oliver just watched them as the doors to his quarters closed behind them. He sat on his bed wondering how long the battle would last. He fell asleep, holding his stuffed lion, Gabriel, in his arms. He'd had the lion since he was a baby and his parents named it Gabriel because it meant "strong."

He woke again just in time to hear the announcement from Captain Neilson.

"Attention! This is Captain Neilson." Oliver listened for the word of their victory. "Aliens have boarded this ship, they will destroy it. Many of us are already dead. We will-!"

There was a loud crunching sound accompanied by his scream. Dead silence followed. Captain Neilson was dead.

Oliver, afraid, ran to his desk and pulled his backpack off it. He remembered what his parents had always taught him; if the ship was ever going down, to get his backpack. He never knew why though.

He unzipped it at the bed and stuffed Gabriel in; they never said he couldn't pack anything. When he was about to zip it back up, something caught his eye. A big, green book with the word, "FAMILY," written on its cover in golden lettering. His photo album. He grabbed it and stuffed it in. He put on the bag and ran for the door.

The halls greeted him with chaos. People were running, screaming, hurt and dying. Not to mention those already dead. He forced his way in, running right; fighting against his crew members.

"Mom?!" He called. "Dad?!" Nothing except for loudening screams. And that's when he saw it: a huge, scaly, green, monstrous, lizard-like Gorn. Gorns also had ships, so if there was one here, there was more throughout the Exploration. Oliver didn't know the creature he was staring at and didn't care what it was. All he cared about was that it was on his ship. It was killing people. The Gorn stared back at Oliver's eyes and charged.

"Aaah!" He turned and ran; the Gorn followed behind. His heart raced and his breath became shallow and fast as he dodged his crew members. He panicked and sprinted and panicked some more. He nearly had a heart attack when he felt arms wrap around his torso and pull him into the Sickbay.

"Oliver!" His mother cried, but he was in his father's grasp.

"We're getting you outta here! We have to stay and fight."

"No!" Oliver squirmed. "You can't! You'll die!"

"We have to Oliver," his mother said.

"No!" Oliver yelled, being passed to his mother's arms so Robert could prepare a hypo.

"There's no other way," his father replied calmly.

"No! We can make it," Oliver cried, angry yet sad tears in his eyes.

"We're sorry, Oliver," his mother said sadly as his father walked over to him with a hypo in his hand.

"But it has to be this way," Robert finished and stuck the hypo into Oliver's arm. Oliver screamed in protest, but soon was unconscious. He was like a dead weight in Gianna's arms. The CMO threw the hypospray to the ground and helped his wife pick up their only son, lifting him over his shoulder. They ran out.

"We have to get to the escape pod! It's in Engineering," she shouted. They looked at their friends and knew that soon they too would die, but not Oliver; Oliver would survive.

"We have to get to the escape pod! It's in Engineering," she shouted. They looked at their friends and knew that soon they too would die, but not Oliver; Oliver would survive. "Robert!" she screamed as a Gorn pulled her into a long, dark hall.

"Giana!" He yelled getting ready to attack the alien with Oliver on his shoulder.

"Robert! No! Don’t worry about me! Save Oliver! You hear me?! Save- AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!" she screamed as the Gorn crushed her. Robert could hear her bones breaking.

“No,” he said as a tear fell down his cheek. “No.” As much as it pained him, he started running again.

They reached engineering. There was no one in there except for dead bodies. The whole room was destroyed. The Gorns had already been there. He hoped that the escape pod Giana made was OK. He made his way over to the lock on the wall, and punched in the code: five-one-eight-two-zero-one-five.

A door appeared on the wall at the activation of the code. It slowly opened, revealing an untouched escape pod; big enough for just one person. He flipped the switch by the pod's door and it slid open.

Robert lowered Oliver inside, sat him up on the seat and buckled him in. He punched in the coordination of the nearest planet. It was only discovered a few months ago, but the atmosphere was breathable and it was out of Gorn territory. He looked at his son and whispered his goodbye.

He pressed the activation button, closed the door and locked it. The floor beneath the escape pod opened and it fell down a tube that would lead the pod and Oliver into space.

Robert heard a Gorn come in and turned around to face it. “Do your worst.” The Gorn picked large scraps of metal and threw it right into the matter-anti matter unit. Oliver was already flying away in his escape pod when The Exploration exploded.

#WARNING: Death and Depression #Oliver #non tickling #OC

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shamelessllamapeanutthing · 3 years ago

Text

My MatchaBlossom playlist

Here's the link to the playlist on Spotify-

Song meanings and POVs elaborated on down under.

Call it what you want- Taylor Swift

(Let's start with a TS song cause why tf not. I am and always will be a total slut for her 💜)

Okay, just the general vibe of this song is that of a person who's been through a bit and has now found a love so beautiful it's helping them heal and I feel like that ties in so well with Cherry and Joe's entire arc. I hear this song in Cherry's POV when Joe's affection is starting to restore his faith in love and life after Adam's done fucked it all up. Or even when his anxiety gets really fucking bad or whatever. It's just got big comfort vibes and I am a total whore for Cherry acknowledging and appreciating everything that Joe does for him.

All my flowers grew back as thorns,

Windows boarded up after the storm,

He built a fire just to keep me warm.

Explosion- Zolita

PINING JOE PINING JOE PINING JOE

*ahem* let me be more articulate.

TEENAGED PINING JOE

Don't call me about him I don't wanna hear

Put him out of your mind just make him disappear

Stop pretending you got nothing left to hide

My memory is slipping and it's killing me alive

Reached the bitter end

Can't pretend I'm not in love with my best friend, my best friend

Hate that you know me- BLEACHERS

Okay I think this song fits Cherry very well, especially when he is still trying to understand his dynamic with Joe. My personal headcanon is that Cherry is prone to bouts of self-hatred because of his anxiety and consequently, doesn't always consider himself deserving of Joe's love, and so, he tends to dislike it at times when Joe seems to understand him better than others and anticipate his needs so well, and I feel like this song depicts that beautifully.

Sometimes I hate that you know me so well (so well)

Sometimes I, I hate that you know me so well (and I hate ya)

Some days I, I wish that I wasn't myself (No)

No luck! (No)

And I hate that you know me so well

Heart attack- Demi Lovato

Okay, I can not be the only person who thinks of teenaged Cherry every time this song comes on. Imagine a Cherry who's flabbergasted by the strength of his feelings for Joe, and can never figure out what to do with himself.

Never break a sweat for the other guys

When you come around, I get paralyzed

And every time I try to be myself

It comes out wrong like a cry for help

It's just not fair; pain's more trouble than love is worth

I gasp for air; it feels so good, but you know it hurts

Lover- Taylor Swift

I have a very specific scene in mind when it comes to this song and that is MatchaBlossom slow-dancing in the first house they get together.

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Make you mine- PUBLIC

You knew this song was going to end up on here lol.

Strangely enough, aware as I am of the fact that most of the fandom believes Joe was the one chasing Cherry (and I agree) this song just hits me as all Cherry's. It has all of his characteristic dogged determination and refusal to admit defeat lol

Well, I have called you darlin' and I'll say it again, again

So kiss me 'til I'm sorry, babe, that you are gone and I'm a mess

And I'll hurt you and you'll hurt me and we'll say things we can't repeat

Mess is Mine- Vance Joy

Slightly older, mellowed out MatchaBlossom, starting to realise they're in this together for the long run, that they always have been.

Further I feel like verse 1 and 2 respectively follow Joe and Cherry's POVs

First we have Joe, who is just brimming with the realisation that Cherry is his for good.

Talking like we used to do

It was always me and you

Shaken up and shipping out

Check me in and check me out

...

Hold on my darling

This mess was yours, now your mess is mine

Secondly, we have Cherry, who considers himself unbelievably lucky to have been considered worthy of Joe's love and keeps wondering if he is half as good a partner to the other man as he is to him.

See you in the market place

Walking around at 8 AM

Got two hours before my flight

Luck be on my side tonight

You're the reason that I feel so strong

The reason that I'm hanging on

You know you gave me all that time

Did I give enough of mine

More than Friends- BEKA HONNE

Baby MatchaBlossom pining. Really sweet, soft vibes. I keep thinking of shy, unsure junior high school Kaoru and Kojiro suddenly becoming blushing, stuttering messes around each other for a period of time as they both hit the realisation that they'd very much like to be kissing each other and it's very much not a Friend™ thing.

It happens after Joe has freshly realised that he is bi after all and Kaoru is exactly what he needs. Again, verse one reminds me of Joe, verse two of Cherry. They are down under respectively.

Driving home and those cats eyes got me seeing you

I'm always seeing you

I don't know how to tell you that I was wrong before

I thought I needed more

I was wondering if we could talk

I think about you every day

And the mixtape you made

Is all I ever to play

And every song reminds me that

You and I

Should be more than friends

...

I never thought I would see your face at my door again

Not at 3 AM

And I don't know just why I wasn't enough before

I thought you needed more

I know you came here to talk

Can't listen to the tape I made

It brings me too much pain

Cause every song reminds me that

You and I

Should be more than friends

This song can also work if you reverse the POV orders and then see it post Adam, but the vibe is a lil too soft for that.

Night go slow- Catey Shaw

MatchaBlossom but in a chill, lo-fi aesthetic.

The cars all stop where they are

When you take my hand, there is no time

Every moment that passes by with you

I wish I could rewind

Let go of your ways

And forget today

Just follow me tonight

Do you understand why I put all my plans on hold?

Not Afraid Anymore- Halsey

Okay, this one goes a lil heavy but imagine a traumatised Cherry, ya know after Ad*m, finally learning to let himself go and feel things again, emotionally and sexually, with Kojiro.

I also feel like they are two kinky bastards so really if you only wanna interpret it like that be my guest.

I am not ashamed anymore

I want something so impure

You better impress now, watching my dress now fall to the floor

Crawling underneath my skin, sweet talk with a hint of sin

Begging you to take me

Devil underneath your grin, sweet thing

But she play to win, heaven gonna hate me

People Crying Every Night- A R I Z O N A

I hear this song as Joe trying to get through to a hesitant Cherry, trying to make him see that while they don't get a say in so many other things, things that have happened and things that will happen, they get to choose the life they have together. They get to pick out their happy ending, build one out of scratch with each other and even if they have nothing else, at least they have this.

Oh and as the day

Turns into night

The things that we can't say

The things we try to hide

Like everyone else

We can't choose the way we die

Oh but we can choose

The way we live tonight

Oh I wish I had the answers

I wish I had the time

To give you all the reasons

Why it's worth it down the line

Ready to go- NEFFEX

This song is an ✨ aesthetic ✨

Okay but imagine, young, punk! MatchaBlossom, maybe around the time when they're travelling the world together?

It's all hot and heady, and Joe is thrilled by the wild, wild force of nature Kaoru is. He can't do anything but give in.

She said stay for a minute

Play with my limits

Drink till we're sinnin'

Baby I'm ready to go

...

She said she's finally alive

When she starts losing control

I said I know what to do

Just let our bodies go

Shine a Light- BANNERS

Another Kojiro song. This one reflects his inner struggle as he feels torn between wanting to comfort and protect Cherry after Adam, and the fact that he is hopelessly in love with Cherry who inadvertently keeps hurting him with how he is lost in the huge web of feelings he can't parse through, not completely blind to how much Kojiro loves him but not fully realising it either. This song reminds me of a confused and helpless Kojiro. Loving Kaoru is such an integral part of him that it makes him, him and it is his constant in the rapidly changing world around him as he stands on the brink of adulthood. He is very nearly ready to beg for mercy and yet knows he, himself is saved by the love he has for Kaoru.

And when the night falls, oh, call on me

Just don't forget to show me some mercy

Ooh, say you're mine

Ooh, take me higher

Sleepover- Hayley Kiyoko

JOE PINING @ HOMOEROTIC SLEEPOVERS WITH YOUR B(est)F

You wanna be friends forever?

I can think of something better

I'm just feeling low, feeling low

Sleeping here right next to me

But will you ever mess with me?

Thank you, my twilight- the pillows

Listen, this has been my fav classic Japanese love anthem for so long and to think it is PERFECT for Matchablossom just makes my heart go 💞

The lyrics are heart-wrenchingly raw and real, which is great reflection of Joe and Cherry's relationship. I include a translation of a few verses below, the first one seems something snatched straight out of Joe's internal monologues and the second one depicts the breathless intensity and loyalty so typical of Kaoru:

If you think it looks like I'm waiting for someone

Then you're right

I've been waiting for you

...

Sometimes people will ask me

"How far will you go for her?"

BABY as far as it takes

Wings- HAERTS

Another song depicting Cherry healing from Adam and learning to accept Joe's love, but a fluffier and sweeter way to go about it.

In which, Cherry decides to separate all of the sweeter moments of his and Joe's days with Adam from all of the bitterness, and carry that in his heart after they part ways and he finally moves on.

I will never let you go

I know you want it, know you want it

Learning love means not to know

I'll learn to take it,

Would you mind- PRETTYMUCH

Ending this post with a fluffy, flirty rec that could be Joe's anthem. See for yourselves.

Say you don't catch feelings, you say you ain't the love type

I'ma have to work, then, uh the whole night

Nothing like your ex, no, this ain't what you used to

Just give me that chance, girl, uh, won't lose you

See it? ;) Also, I feel like Joe had typical frat boy taste in music at some point so

#Spotify #sk8 the infinity #matchablossom #matchablossom playlist #past loveblossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #kaoru x kojiro #nanjo kojiro #sk8 cherry blossom #sk8 infinity

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