#like whatever WHATEVER. you post about thinking that the poor and unsure need safety and should be allowed to sustain themselves but

[yorkiegregg]

If your first response to people who eat varmint is “lol … ewwww those rednecks!” then you’re not friendly to people with low income & people who don’t rely on supermarkets and random corporations for food. or simply cannot. Like fuck off

[shinsorokiri]

S/O Loses Memory and Quirk

Todoroki, Bakugou, and Kirishima HCs

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of stab wounds and blood, a panic attack, spoiler for Bakugou’s hero name, sad bois

A/N: So I had two requests that mentioned these three with this concept and I just finished all of them and I’m so proud that I wanted to post these ones before the other two for Denki and All Might were finished but I’ll get those out as soon as possible. I cried writing Bakugou’s, so... there’s that HAHA please enjoy!

Here’s the first one with Shinsou, Aizawa, Hawks, and Dabi!

Todoroki Shouto | Shouto

Shouto knows you’re a strong woman and that he doesn’t need to constantly be there to protect you

But he does prefer to be there if something bad is happening 

The only problem is that you two went to two different agencies after graduating 

And in doing so were on opposite sides of the city

Now he always knew when something was happening on your hero route because I mean

He actually needs to in case something bad happens since it’s his JOB

But he also just really wants to be there for you if you really need it

There hasn’t been a time like that, though

So imagine his utter shock and genuine fear when that time came

He was told to go to where you were patrolling because you’d been attacked and wound up in the hospital 

You know the scene with the flame tear? Yeah that but times ten

He goes on patrol like a good little hero

But boy oh BOY did he just want to go to the hospital

You’d never lost a fight before

Not even against him

Your quirk was literally the most powerful quirk he’s ever seen and I mean like, yeah, sure, he might be biased but STILL you were really powerful

So what kind of villain could hurt you so bad you had to go to the hospital???

Luckily, he only had an hour left of patrolling 

And as soon as that hour was up

Mans bolted

He was OFF

He ran into that hospital 

And he politely asked where your room was

Because although he’s PANICKING he still is a little socially awkward sweetie and he doesn’t wanna be a dick to anyone and be labeled similar to his father no no NO

But as soon as he got the number he was sprinting man

He was so worried

All patrol he was quieter than usual

And he was ridiculously anxious the whole time

His palms were sweaty

He felt like he could throw up at any second

And right now

He thought his heart was about to beat out of his chest

He carefully opens the door

You might be sleeping, he has to be considerate

And sure enough he sees your unconscious form laying in a hospital bed

It looked like you had some broken bones, and multiple bruises and cuts which means someone must have beat the shit out of you

Lovely

That’s what he needed to see

Definitely 

Mans doesn’t show emotion that much

But when it comes to you and since it was just you and him in the room

He broke down crying

He couldn’t help it

He grabbed your hand

And just sat there crying

Poor guy can’t lose you

You were the best thing that ever happened to him 🥺

You showed him that it was okay to feel things and express those things and let people in

He let you in and he couldn’t let you go now

He was a genuine mess for the next couple of weeks

Because you weren’t waking up

He went against what Midoriya said and asked around about what happened to you

And what he heard was horrific

Apparently the villain snuck up on you

And hit you in a few different places

And then you fell down

And then you couldn’t access your quirk

And that’s why you were in the hospital 

He didn’t want to think about the part that happened after you were virtually defenseless

Around his friends he was spacier than usual

He wasn’t really retaining information

And his agency let him take more days off than usual because they knew he was Going Through It

And luckily on one of those days you woke up

He was next to you as per usual 

Holding your hand

Playing with your fingers like he always does when he gets anxious

He missed being able to do that in social situations 

Or when you two were cuddling at night and he was thinking about something that was stressing him out and he would start to fiddle with your hand and you would ask him what’s wrong

He missed you

So when he felt your hand start to move by itself

He basically gave himself whiplash with how fast he looked from your hand to your face

Sure enough

Your eyes were open

And you were looking at him

“(Y/n)…”

He whispered your name as not to scare you

You could have a concussion or mild amnesia

He has already considered everything that could be wrong with you

Because he overthinks a lot

And he was nervous about this

And there was one thing he had in the back of his mind

That would probably be the worst case scenario

And much to his fears

That was confirmed to be what was going on almost immediately

“Todoroki?”

He just stares for a moment

You hadn’t called him Todoroki since… well, a long time now

Probably back in your UA days

The two of you began dating in your second year though so

It’s been a while

“You look… older..?”

He clears his throat

Nodding

“Yes. Well… I am 20 years old now. I would hope I look older.”

“Wait, what?”

Oh shit.

He just confused you. 

Damnit, Shouto. 

“Uhh… well, um. You see…”

“Todoroki what is going on? And why are you holding my hand like that?”

He freezes

He was still playing with your fingers

And it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to

You were just genuinely confused

He knew that

“Before I say anything else that could be detrimental to your mental health, maybe you should ring your nurse.”

You do as he says

And the nurses and a doctor come rushing into your room

They do some evaluations

And sure enough

Your memory has been completely wiped

As has the access to the portion of your brain that allows you to control your quirk

The doctor explains to Todoroki that he’s unsure of how this happened

Bu Todoroki knows it has to be that villain

Whatever that villain did did this to you

And Todoroki isn’t one to show emotions

But boy oh BOY was he riled up right now

He lowkey accidentally caught something on fire

And then to fix it lowkey on purpose just turned it into a block of ice

Even though Endeavor is the worst man on the planet

Mans is persistent on shit that’s for sure

And that’s like

The only trait Shouto got from that literal dumpster fire of a father

And he wasn’t about to let the piece of shit that hurt you get away with it

Of course, when it comes to you as a person he’s very patient

Very understanding

Respects boundaries 

But he will not REST

Until the motherfucker who did this to you gets caught by him

And he will find them.

Bakugou Katsuki | DynaMight

OH BOY HERE WE GO

So Bakugou was already very protective over you

I mean that’s expected though

It’s

It’s literally Bakugou

So mans has tabs on you at all times

You don’t know how he does it tbh

He jokes

Yes, Bakugou can joke

He jokes about having a sixth sense when it comes to you

He just gets this feeling about you

If you’re sad? He knows

Happy? He knows

In danger? MANS KNOWS

And I guess he also has a GPS built into his brain???

He just

He knows

Probably because he cares extremely deeply about you

Like really fucking deeply

You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him

Ever since high school

First day

When you weren’t intimidated by him

There was just something special about you

And even though it took until after graduation and you almost DYING on a mission for him to finally accept that he can FEEL THINGS

He officially asked you to be his girlfriend

I say officially because, well

Y’all have basically been dating since like 

Second year of high school

Even though it wasn’t official

It was obvious

He was whipped

He still is

He’s known you for five years

You’ve been officially dating for two of those years

You were unofficially dating for four

You were the most important thing in his life

You even surpassed becoming the number one hero somehow

Though he will NEVER admit that

EVER

It took him a while to realize it 

But the thought of living without you?

Scared him more than any villain ever could

And that is why

Mans is all dressed up

Lookin nice

Took a day off of patrol at his agency because tonight is a special night

Of course, you don’t know anything

As it should be

He didn’t tell a soul that he was planning on proposing tonight

Okay… maybe that is a lie

He told Kirishima when he got blackout drunk with the boys one night

Long story, don’t ask how it happened, even the boys don’t know

And Kirishima then proceeded to tell everyone of his other friends 

So they all knew

But they also all knew to keep it a FUCKING SECRET unless they wanted blown up

But boy oh boy they were excited to see the pictures and the ring and the everything

But I digress

Bakugou is in the house the two of you purchased a while back

It was very much off the damn grid

For ~safety~ 

And he’s very much just messing with how he looks

He has to look perfect because he knows you’re about to 

And he can’t be proposing to you unless he’s on your level

When suddenly

He gets a

Feeling

But it isn’t the warm feeling he gets when you’re happy

Or the doopy one he gets when you’re sad

Or the wave of exhaustion he feels when you’re tired

Or the tingly feeling he gets when you’re mad

No

It’s the feeling where his spine tenses

And his blood goes cold

And his heart drops to the floor

The one he only felt one other time

The time you almost died

He was out of that house so fast

He didn’t even care if he looked all nice

You were in danger

He blasted his way through the city

Saying he was frantic is an understatement

He was FERAL

He got to where you were just in time to see you get slammed into the concrete by some piece of shit villain

You were unconscious

And you weren’t moving

He saw red

He didn’t even remember blasting over to the villain and punching them in the face

But he did that

And he did it HARD

Of course the villain was like OH FUCK

THIS IS THE NUMBER TWO HERO

I DIDN’T THINK HE’D ACTUALLY GET HERE THIS FAST

Because obviously the villain knew who you were

That’s why you were targeted 

Breaking Bakugou’s spirit is needed if villains want to become more fearful and powerful

The villain starts sprinting away

And before Bakugou can catch them

He hears an ambulance siren

He suddenly forgets all about the villain because he whips around to see you getting loaded onto a gurney

Paramedics are doing everything they can to keep you alive at this point

He’s horrified to say the least

You’re the love of his life

The last time he saw you like this is when he accepted it

Seeing you like this again just makes him realize it even deeper somehow

He runs to the ambulance

But the paramedics tell him he needs to go to the hospital separately because you’re badly injured and they need to perform some procedures on the way to the hospital to keep you alive

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his eyes start to sting

He wants to tell the paramedics to fuck off

Don’t they realize this is supposed to be one of the best days of yours and his lives?

But he can’t 

Because before he can

They’re gone

He chases after you though

He needs to be by your side right now

He needs to know that you will be okay

He needs you to be okay

So imagine how nerve-wracking it is for him to learn that you were in surgery

He waited in the waiting room all day long

This incident happened around one in the afternoon

and it was now one in the morning

He was just sitting in the hospital waiting room

Looking down at the little box in his hand

Crying

Which is a sight for anyone who sees him

The ring he bought for you is the only thing he can focus on

He doesn’t even notice the non-stop buzzing in his pocket coming from his and your friends wondering if the two of you are okay because the footage of the fight cut out right before Bakugou punched the villain

They all thought you were both hurt pretty badly

I mean after your quirk was seemingly taken from you…

The only thing that snaps him out of his trance

Is when the doctor comes out and says his name

His head snaps up so fast

He approaches the doctor just as fast

He knows he should expect the worst

But he can’t help but keep repeating that you’re okay

That everything will be fine because you are okay

They fixed you up

You’ll come home all happy

He’ll propose to you in the living room at this point

Today will be fixed

Instead

He hears that although you’re stable

You have what appears to be brain damage

“What kind of fucking brain damage?”

“She has severe amnesia which means that-”

“How severe?”

“Well… according to her brain scan and the fact that she said the year was two and a half years ago, I’m afraid it’s significantly severe.”

Two and a half years

Two and a half years?!

He just stares at the doctor

If you think it’s two and a half years ago

That means he hasn’t asked you out yet

That means in your mind

You’re still in high school

About to graduate

This cannot be happening

There is not way this is happening

“Can I see her?”

His voice sounds foreign to him

The doctor nods

Leading him to your room

He puts the ring back in his pocket out of instinct

And when he enters your room

He wants nothing more than for you to yell something like PSYCH

GOT YOU BLASTY BITCH

HAHAHA

But he’s just met with a your mouth opening wide and eye getting big

“Bakugou?! You’re so dressed up!”

Bakugou

Why didn’t he let you call him Katsuki sooner

Why didn’t he ask you out before two years ago

Why wasn’t he there to save you

“W-Woah… Bakugou, you don’t have to cry this isn’t my first hospital stay… wait, when did you get an undercut?”

He just walks towards you

“You also look… older… is this seriously what you look like when you clean up?”

He watches as your expression falters for a moment

“Wait… are you like… going on a date or something?”

Good to know you still have feelings for him at least

He just nods

And you try to hide the disappointment on your face

“Oh… well, you better tell me all about it when we get back to the dorms.”

Your fake enthusiasm is killing him

What killing him even more though is that the doctors didn’t tell you what was going on

So he’ll tell you instead

“Actually,”

Damnit

His voice is wavering

This is new for him

He clears his throat

“I’m not… I’m not going on a date anymore. I had one but… things didn’t turn out as planned.”

“Oh?”

He almost smiles at the sudden mood shift you had

How can you still be perky like that sitting in a hospital bed

“Yeah… because, um. It was a date with you…”

“…Oh…?”

“You got hurt pretty bad, angel…”

He explains everything to you

Well 

As much as he can

And he also finds out about your quirk

And how it’s just

Gone

You have to stay in the hospital tonight for further testing tomorrow

And you insist that he goes home

But he says it isn’t home if you’re not there

He stays in the chair right next to your bed

Watching you as you sleep

He knows you believe him

He knows that you have feeling for him

But he’s broken, truly

Not only was he not your hero today

He didn’t save you

He doesn’t know if you’ll ever remember any of those years with him

Any of your firsts

And that makes him ache

He pulls out your ring again

And just looks at it

The only light in the room is the moonlight peaking in through the window

And in that moment

He swears to himself

And to you

That the villain who did this

Is going to pay

Kirishima Eijirou | Red Riot

Eijirou has always been your rock

Figuratively and literally

He’s there for you through everything

And I mean everything

The two of you have been next door neighbors since you were kids

And he literally always had a crush on you

Of course the feelings were mutual

But neither you nor shark boy knew that

Until y’all got to high school

And Bakugou was very

Annoyed

About the two of you pining for each other

Mina was beyond annoyed 

She went to middle school with you two

So when Bakugou finally just

Screamed at the two of you to just shut the fuck up with the flirting and date already

Mina deadass jumped out of her seat at lunch and screamed thank you at the top of her lungs

Of course the two of you were as red as his hair

Which, yes

You did help him pick out the exact shade and helped dye as well

His hands were stained red because he accidentally only bought one pair of gloves and it wouldn’t have been manly to make you help without gloves on

But I digress

The two of you started dating shortly after that

And when I tell you that you were the couple everyone would look at and be all “awwwww”

I MEAN IT

And y’all are just in high school

Granted, it’s your final year and the two of you are both interning and are already confirmed to become sidekicks and Fatgum’s Agency

So y’all do be a little mature

But still

You started dating freshman year

And you’re going strong still

Of course

And words cannot describe how relieved he is that the two of you are at the same agency

Because if anything ever went bad he would be there to save you

And you would be there to save him

But literally nothing could prepare him for what was about to happen to you

It was a normal patrol

The two of you were together

Talking about graduation next week

And how the two of you were excited to move out of the dorms and into the apartment you had picked

And how you would finally be able to adopt the little mutt that the two of you love from the shelter

When out of no where

A villain popped down off of a building

Right behind you

And did something weird to you

They hit you meticulously and in specific places

Before Kirishima could even process what was going on

You were on the ground

Of course

You raised an arm

Ready to fight and use your quirk

But nothing happened

You tried again

Nothing

You and Kirishima make eye contact and he can feel the fear radiating off of you

Now he was worried

Very worried

But you knew how to fight

And he was there, too

So this wouldn’t end too bad

UNTIL THERE WAS A FUCKING EXPLOSION IN THE BUILDING THE VILLAIN JUST POPPED OUT OF

You were already back on your feet

Ready to fight this motherfucker

“Go help the people inside, Red Riot. I can handle this one.”

“But-”

“GO!”

He goes

Reluctantly

But he does know you can hold your own

Even if that villain temporarily blocked your quirk

He hardens

Turning his headpiece into a filtering mask (a great addition he thought of so he could run into burning buildings while hardened to save people and not take damage to his lungs in the process)

And luckily

There were only three people inside

So he grabs them and runs out

Easy

And he’s expecting to be met with you handcuffing the bad guy

But instead

He’s met with you getting the life beat out of you

Literally

You’re on the ground

The villain pulled out swords while he was gone

And it was obvious you were down and weren’t gettingup

But the villain just wasn’t letting up

Kirishima’s legs work before his brain

He runs over to the villain and lands a punch to their face

Which causes them to stumble backwards

Before they throw the swords at a random citizen who is observing

He immediately runs to the citizen, deflecting the swords

But the villain ran off in the mean time

Like they disappeared without a trace

But honestly

Even if they were still there

Kirishima would have run to you regardless

He immediately kneels down

“(Y/n)?! (Y/n), can you hear me?!”

He ditched the hero names this time

You weren’t responding

You were out cold

He starts panicking

Like

Full on hyperventilating

You looked bad

You were pierced by the villains swords in your side

Blood was everywhere

Your breathing was shallow

Regardless of the genuine panic attack he was going through right now

He somehow managed to control his breathing so you wouldn’t bleed out on the ground

He needed to help you

He picks you up

Instantly starting to sprint to the ambulances beginning to pull up

As soon as the paramedics see the state you’re in they get you off of him

And speed off to the hospital

Kirishima is left alone 

Staring at his hands 

Which were dyed red with your blood

All he could see was your face laughing at him because he forgot to get two pairs of gloves the first time you helped him dye his hair

…He didn’t like red all that much right now

After what feels like hours

But was really like two minutes

Tamaki shows up

Because he heard there was something going on

And as soon as he sees Kirishima on the ground and sobbing

He knows something bad has happened to you

He quickly gets him out of there

And back to the agency

Where Kirishima accidentally sees a replay of the fight on television

And he sees that you were fighting the villain just fine

But they were so nimble and fast 

And all they did was hit the nape of your neck and then the side of your temple

And you collapsed

Tamaki turned the television off before the full fight was shown

But the damage was done

Kirishima was back on the ground

Tamaki tries to comfort him

But Kirishima is out of commission

“I couldn’t save her, Tamaki! I wasn’t there!”

“…C-Come on, Kirishima… w-we should… go to the hospital…”

Tamaki is trying so hard to get him to calm down 

But to no avail

So eventually he just drags him out and to his car

He speeds to the hospital

And Kirishima doesn’t even wait for the car to slow down to run inside

He has to wait to see you

Since you were punctured 

But he was willing to wait

And wait he did 

For four days

Of course after you were done with your surgery he was allowed in your room

But it was a matter of waiting for you to wake up

He was always with you

He only went home to shower

He slept at the hospital

He needed to be with you

So when you finally woke up

He cried tears of happiness for the first time in days

“(Y/n), thank god you’re awake.”

“Eiji? What happened…?”

“There was a villain attack and they knocked you out and-”

“Why don’t you look 15?”

“What?”

“You look… older… and your hair is longer.”

“…What? You were the one who encouraged me to grow it out…”

“I… I was?”

He stares at you for a moment

His happy tears turning into ones of fear

Before hitting the call nurse button and asking you a question

“(Y/n) what grade are we in?”

“We’re freshmen at UA High School.”

No. 

No, no, no, no, no

Before he could answer the doctor and nurses came in the room

They started asking you a bunch of questions

To which you answered the best you could

But it was obvious that you were convinced it was two years ago

The doctors took you off to do scans of your brain

This can’t be happening

You think it’s two years ago

Two years

So much has happened within those two years

The two of you have done so much

Just

Imagine how devastated he is when he hears your memory is just gone

And your quirk with it

You were a hero

Your quirk can’t be gone

“Eiji… please don’t cry, it’ll be okay.”

“I can’t help it, pebble. I wasn’t there to save you and now… now you don’t remember everything we’ve done. And… and your quirk… you’re the best hero I know, and now…”

“Eijirou, I promise you it will be okay. As long as you’ll be with me, like you always are, I will be fine.”

He doesn’t say anything

He just looks at his hand holding yours

At least you still remember he asked you to be his girlfriend

But he is deadset on finding the villain who did this to you

“I will get you out of this.”

“Ei…”

“I will fix this. I promise you. I will save you. I need to.”

[mrvdocks]

Is This Love?

- It had to be that fateful day that you two stumbled into his spree. The day that would mentally fuck with you forever. - Spree AU

♫ - The thinking you’re the better man The danger I don't I understand

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Blood, language, some attraction to a serial murderer, standard final girl

pic credit: @pinkresources​

You don’t know where everything went wrong. Things just went downhill so fast that you barely had a chance to even blink.

Yet here you were, covered in who you thought was your best friend’s blood, a giddy Kurt, and a million people watching.

This couldn’t be the same sweet unassuming guy you’d met before, right?

Everything about him was off now. His tone, his style, his demeanor. Maybe you chose not to see the undertones of insanity to him. Because you were just as alone as he was in the end. 

Looking back now, he was definitely stalking his prey. Whether that was you or her, whoever gave him the most leverage and made him a household name. A name to either be feared or admired.

It had to be that fateful day that you two stumbled into his spree. The day that would mentally fuck with you forever. 

It was supposed to be a normal day, just get your friend, in and out of some of her busiest and various interviews. You were her assistant, even if she tried to coin it some other term or just called you her friend, plain and simple.

Your pairing made you feel somewhat self conscious. Here she was, pretty, leggy, adored by fans online, the facade she had constructed for herself when in reality she was just manipulative and vindictive. This definitely wasn’t the crowd you wanted to work with, alas here you were.

“Remind me what we’re doing.” She said, eyes still completely glued to the phone. 

“Variety wanted that challenge video with you.” 

“Perfect, now,’ she took her eyes off of the screen and paused her typing. “Where’s the car?” 

“What car?” 

She rolled her eyes, “Those shitheads didn’t get me a car? How do they expect us to get there, walking?” 

Sometimes you wondered how she made it this far. Probably because everyone wanted to be used by her.

“Relax, I’ll just order a ride again.” You whipped out your phone, picking a red app out of the hundreds of others that caught your eye.

“Relax? Do you know how hard it is for me? I could be in the Maldives by now but no you told me to do this stupid interview because you’re poor.”

The insult didn’t exactly sting you as much as it would’ve a year ago. As a media graduate you thought you’d be working within the big leagues, not with a prissy and bitchy vlogger who wanted everything at the drop of a hat. 

Plus this interview came with some big bucks and if you could manage to nail this without fail, you could quit the very next day.

“Sorry, look, it’s just today and then tomorrow you can go out and do whatever you want.”

She whines, eyes back onto her phone and tweeting about her hardships. While the princess waited you kept an eye on passing cars, anything that would match the one on your screen. 

A car pulls up in front of you both, the windows of the passenger seat rolling down to greet you.

“Kurt, right?” 

He nods with a smirk, definitely inviting you in but also reminding you of someone. You make your way to the backseat, but are pushed aside as your friend takes her place in the middle of the row. You laugh nervously, glancing at Kurt as you take the passenger seat. 

“What’s with all these cameras? Are you like in a reality show?” Your friend blurts out, prompting Kurt to glance at her.

“It’s just for safety. Wait are you - oh my god you are!” Kurt gushes, making the connection of the celebrity in his backseat. 

Your friend flashes her pearly whites at Kurt, loving to be the center of attention. 

“No way. Bobby is not gonna believe this.” He beams.

You can feel it’s almost time to dissociate in order to get through this ride. 

Kurt turns his phone over to the right, capturing your friend’s image a little better. The comments pop one after the other at rapid speed. You can’t read it but you can tell by Kurt’s face whoever is commenting is in disbelief. 

“My friend Bobby is obsessed with you, he always says he would make a sex tape with you.” 

You cringe at the thought and at the sudden robot voice erupting from Kurt’s phone exclaiming that Julia take her top off. It doesn’t seem to faze her though, she lives for it.

“Hey has anyone told you, you look exactly like that guy from Stranger Things?” Julia laughs, You’re unsure if it’s supposed to be a jab or an actual compliment for Kurt.

Kurt’s smile drops, it’s something he got a lot as a tease from Bobby. How he looked like him but didn’t quite have his suave and lovable demeanor. If anything he was the complete opposite, pathetic.

“A bit.” He waves the thought away, and as soon as your friend begins to take pictures of herself, he begins speaking rapidly. 

“If you post anything, make sure to tag me I’m KurtsWorld 96. Follow for follow.” He beams, as if this is something he normally does.

Ohhhhhh boy. This is just a twitter bot in a boy’s body isn’t it. 

Your friend just giggles to herself, completely ignoring his plea for fame. 

“See, I would love to do that. But my friend has to do like some background check or whatever. No hard feelings though, ‘kay?” With that she’s back to her own bubble.

It’s you who’s on the spotlight now though and you mentally curse her out for it. 

“Really?” Kurt glances at you and you can read him just like all the other fans. The hopefulness in his eyes. 

“I mean if you need to check out my stuff I don’t mind at all. In fact, that’s why I have all these cameras set up.”

“I thought they were for protection.” 

Kurt chuckles, “That too, but I mean when stuff like this happens you have to document it, right? Gotta let everyone know what you’re doing all the time.” 

The extreme level of desperation from Kurt almost scares you. You’ve seen this before, you were this before. His problem is he doesn’t have a Julia. 

You nod, smiling easily. 

“After all, we’re only as good as our last performance.” Kurt says suddenly. 

You do a double take.

There’s a familiarity to what he says. You’ve seen or heard it somewhere before. Something only known to you in private. 

Your brows furrow as you both look at each other. There’s a certain tension between you now, you get goosebumps from the way he looks at you. The feeling in the pit of your stomach confuses you. 

The times he glances at you in silence just to raise his brows or to do some facial quirk to make you laugh feel pleasant.

You watch him intently, the way his fingers grip the wheel, the way his hair could use just a touch of hydration, the way the corners of his lips lift into a smirk.

Julia doesn’t notice the eye fucking at all, not surprising.

The later half of the ride consisted mostly of just Kurt talking about something he was planning and that if you two were interested he would love to have both of you back. 

Julia, though always eager to have a camera shoved in her face, surprisingly declines because Kurt just doesn’t seem like he’d suit her brand. You feel the embarrassment for him and want to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

Your prayers are answered and the minute you see Kurt brake, you rush out just as your friend holds up a finger for you to wait. Kurt offers her a water bottle which she takes happily because it’s “free”. You wait but he offers you none.

She takes small sips and then crams it into her bag. 

Kurt simpers, but you don’t know what exactly is in the bottle, yet. 

“Thanks, Kurt.” You can’t help but meet his gaze. It’s not desperate anymore, no. It’s almost.....darker.

“My pleasure.” 

You both rush into the building, Julia forgetting about him already. But he sits in your mind the entire time. 

Julia cries as she doubles over in pain, her hand basically gripping yours for dear life as she coughs up blood. She had left the interview early due to a stomach ache but you’d never seen anything so severe.

“Julia, okay listen to me, we have to get you to the hospital.”

She shakes her head, hurling crimson onto your shirt and hands. 

“Julia! You need help, we need to go!” You yelled adamantly.

She wasn’t like this until the car ride with Kurt. 

You sprang into action, going back to your phone and putting in Kurt’s info to find where he was. The only perk about being an assistant to an influencer, is people will come when you call. And Kurt was sure to come.

You order a ride, and cover up Julia’s face which already is starting to look like something out of a zombie movie. Her face is swelling up and her lips are bleeding. 

You take her by the arm and lead her down to an awaiting Kurt, joining her in the backseat.

He looks different. More rugged and somewhat cleaner, he’s changed clothes since the few hours you saw him. Even the car is different, it wasn’t his Prius. 

He’s not even fazed by her sudden reaction to the water and instead, the moment you close the door he drives off in the opposite direction. 

“Kurt this isn’t the way to the hospital.”

“Oh I know, I’m taking you home.”

“I don’t live this way.” You were beginning to feel the panic rise in you.

He chuckles to himself as if he just made a killer joke. “No, no, my home.”

Your eyes widened. You scan the car filled with cameras. Certainly anyone watching would call the police. You can’t help but freeze, your shaky hands trying to grip Julia as she continues to hurl uncontrollably. 

You pass streets you don’t recognize and making contact with drivers is out of the question while you’re paralyzed. 

Kurt pulls onto a rocky road, a house completely devoid of light staring back at you. You wish you could scream once he gets out of the car but when he opens the door to your side and helps you with Julia into the house, you’re on autopilot.

“Honestly I’m surprised she made it this long. Everyone else lasted only a few seconds.” He guffaws, completely in awe as if this was some kind of achievement.

You stare at him, in deep thought of who else he’d done this to.  

“Why are you doing this? Why - why would you-” the sheer panic in your voice doesn’t seem to affect him.

He dumps Julia onto the couch mindlessly, as if he just came home from a long day of work. 

“Because I love you. And I’d do anything for you. And.....I didn’t like the way she was talking to you.” 

He faces you now, coming to hold your face in his hands. You don’t recoil yet but shiver at the way his oddly cold fingers feel against your warm flush face.

“How do you -” 

“We’re only as good as our last performance.” He echoes from earlier. 

It all clicks suddenly. The reason why he didn’t give you a bottle. The comments on her videos defending you. The anonymous messages between you two. It was him all along. 

To say that the now dead body next to you while he professed his love to you was very unsettling would be an understatement. Much less it being broadcast to millions of people watching. 

“If you loved me you wouldn’t be doing this,” You tried to reason, bringing his hands down to his side.

You liked Kurt. Even if you hadn’t known what his intentions were. But the messages made you feel like someone was on your side. Like he understood you. Now you weren’t sure if the past few weeks even meant anything to him or if he really was just using you to get to Julia. 

“You let her walk all over you the same way I let Bobby. But not anymore! You and me, we can be bigger than they ever were.”

“Kurt you’re insane! We have to go now.” 

You make a break for the front door, only to be pinned down by Kurt. You struggle but Kurt’s figure hovers over you. Your breath hitches at the sudden closeness of your faces and bodies.

“I’m sorry but I can’t let you do that.” He says grimly. 

“Kurt please, I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Look we can - we can leave and go somewhere they won’t find you.”

He scoffs. “Live in anonymity? You know I can’t do that.”

You know you’ve lost the battle right then and there. 

You have to appeal to his nature, his blood thirst. You’re quick on your feet because the stench of the blood on your hands is beginning to make your stomach churn. 

You crane your head to the side and lean into him, pressing your lips together. He’s frozen for a second, taken aback by your sudden change of heart. He pulls back and stands, leaving you on the floor still. 

He’s laughing now, almost manically. 

“You love me! See? With everything you and I know, we could be a power couple!”

You stand, watching him as he celebrates prematurely. 

The comments on the stream were going crazy. Most of them not believing that your friend or Bobby were dead now. A variety of sounds coming from the phone fill the room and muffle your quick breaths.

You take small strides to him slowly, keeping your eyes on the phone. “You’re right. No one can tell or make us do something we don’t want to anymore.”

He’s coming down from his high, raking his hands through his hair and muttering to himself. 

“We have to clean house.” He says, rushing to Julia’s body, grabbing her feet and dragging her to the garage. 

You take this moment when his back is to you to run to the door again, flipping the lock open and running as fast as you can out into the freezing air. The adrenaline fuels you. Kurt curses as he drops the body and runs after you. 

He lurches forward when he’s close enough, dropping the both of you onto the rocky dirt. You scramble to get up but he takes hold of your head by your hair and brings your head down onto the ground roughly. 

You’re disoriented for a moment, unable to see. 

“You’re making things harder than they need to be.” He sighs, flipping you over on your back and taking you into his arms in a bridal carry back to the house. 

“Please don’t kill me.” You manage out, feeling a stinging pain in your head.

He pouts. “I’m not gonna kill you. I need you.”

He sets you back down onto the pool table in the garage, going back to talk to the millions watching him and you now. 

You don’t see what he types but from the looks of it he disagrees severely. “No I’m not going to kill her! She’s the Bonnie to my Clyde.” 

If anything, this was going to be Romeo and Juliet. Only you weren’t dying for this.

You feel around for anything on the table with your limited view. A ball, a stick, anything. You grasp a hard triangular shape, gripping it with with the little strength and adrenaline you can muster. 

He’s too distracted by what everyone’s saying to notice you behind him, rack high in the air. You yell as you bring the rack down to the nape of his neck, he goes down hard and fast but you’re quicker. 

You pounce and straddle him, bringing the rack up again to gain more momentum and aim down at his face.

He’s cries out in pain, hands coming to shield his face. “What are you doing?! This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!” 

“Sorry babe. Change of plans.” You grit through deep and fast breaths. You get a few more hits in before he seemingly goes limp. 

Your chest heaves, trying to get back to normal as you wait with bated breath for any sign of movement from him. You make a move to climb off of him, seeing the phone thrown to the side, still documenting the entirety of what just happened. 

You toss aside the rack, crawling to the phone as you read the comments. Things calling for Bobby to come out, some asking if Julia was okay, others insulting Kurt and you. One catches your attention.

Watch out!

You turn in the nick of time, avoiding Kurt’s swing of the rack. You try to crawl away but he grasps your ankle and drags you back. You manage to get a kick in with your other foot, earning you a second or two. Kurt bellows out in pain.

He persists, climbing on top of you to grab your throat firmly. The action and pressure of it is enough for you to abandon the phone and try to pry him off. 

“We could’ve been great!” He yells, his bloody face painting yours. You cough roughly, trying to get some air back into your constricting lungs.

You can’t hold him off any longer, and if you don’t get any oxygen, he’ll win his twisted legacy.

Remembering the phone, you let go of his hands and feel around until you are able to grab it firmly and hit him in the eye with it. He falls back and screams in pain. 

You’re on top again, taking hold of the collar of his shirt to hold him as you attack with abandon.

“We’re.” Hit.

“Only.” Kurt groans.

 “As. Good.” Another dastardly good hit.

 “As. Our. Last.” He sputters, choking.

“Performance.” You let a guttural yell rip from your chest as you deliver the final blow. This time he stays down. 

The silence rings in your ear long enough to spur you out of the moment. You can hear sirens in the background, not long now. You glance back to your anonymous lover, your hand coming to lift the hair out of his bloody face. 

Your fingers linger on his face for a second. You bring the phone to your face and laugh mirthlessly, “Fuck you all.” 

You climb off of Kurt, heading to the welcoming breeze of the outside world. 

You sit on the porch chair, covered head to toe in a mixture of blood, eyes fluttering shut as the sirens get louder with each second. 

You smirk.

[pocket-void]

Some Stuff About Marcus Pt.1

Alright, I’m finally gonna talk about Marcus in more depth for a lil bit because honestly the more I think about him the more I want to talk about him. So I’m gonna do just that! Both for fun and to get some stuff out of my creative system. ^///^

So let’s start with the man himself, shall we?

Marcus

Marcus is my personal version of the mysterious Orange side, and he’s more of an OC than a theory and I just really enjoy talking about him sometimes. So I do! I talk more about what he represents in this post (there’s also other miscellaneous scraps of info about him in the orange side tag), this one is gonna focus more on his exact relationship with each of the other sides (I always welcome more specific asks if you ever wanna know anything else! Since I’m very rambly and believe me when I say that I have answers to basically everything >///<). These are longer than I thought so I’m splitting it up...but if you’re still here, then strap in folks! u///u

Roman

Marcus doesn’t dislike Roman, but he’s not a big fan of him either. Theoretically they could have a better relationship but it’s hindered by a perception of Marcus that someone else had set a long time ago. (We’ll get to that)

One of the bigger reasons why Marcus and Roman don’t quite get along is simply due to their completely opposite levels of self respect. Roman is insecure and often unsure about his accomplishments and how others feel about him, while Marcus is too sure about his skills and how others perceive him. There are clear flaws to both.

In Marcus’ case, it’s made him incredibly stubborn and bitter as a result of being seen as a problem and not being able to do anything. It’s very difficult to convince him he’s wrong, and while he’s not dumb enough to think he’s right about everything, he gets more aggressive than necessary in the face of opposition at times. But more than anything Marcus is honest. He’s blunt and isn’t afraid of just stating how he feels to people, and Roman’s reluctance to do so really bugs him at times. In fact, he’s sometimes angry for him.

The fact that simple phrases can shatter Roman’s entire ego drives Marcus up walls, because if he were in his position he’d probably deck someone in the face right then and there. Being insulted? Getting what he fears most spat at him like venom? Marcus would never stand for that. Beyond that he’s also mad for the people who care about Roman. Why can’t he believe them? Can’t he see how much he’s cared about? How worried people are? Does he really? Marcus thinks that distrust and insecurity feels like an insult to them.

The thing about Marcus is that he’s been through being branded bad and evil. He’s still the bad guy in a couple of ways. He’ll play the bad guy if he has to. He’s over it, though not quite over it as he’d like to be... In a way, he’s also envious of Roman. Roman is important. The others do actually love him. And deep down, Marcus also respects the things he does and doesn’t want him to be crippled by his self doubt because what the two have in common is passion. A drive and determination to do the things they want, and to achieve the goals they aim for. It’s just a shame that their relationship is soured by their general perceptions of each other.

Marcus also just isn’t big on theatrics, but that’s because he uh, can’t see. He likes to make fun of Roman just like anybody else in casual conversation and only ever refers to him as “Red”, “Princey”, or on occasion “Ruby”. He jokingly takes Roman’s threats seriously when they quip, and while they never actually get into fights, Roman is aware that Marcus will actually throw down.

At the end of the day, Marcus wants Roman to consider himself his own hero. He doesn’t understand Roman’s need to keep up an image because he’s never had an image to live up to, let alone anyone who'd look to him for inspiration. Whether Roman likes him or not doesn’t really matter to him, he doesn’t care about people who’ve made up their minds about him and are too set in certain ways of thinking.

Which is hypocrisy at its finest, but we’re not there yet.

Janus

Right off the bat, they do not get along. Which you might find kind of odd, considering they’re both under the umbrella of “dark side”. The truth is, they’re tentative colleagues at best. Hilariously Logan probably gets along with Janus better than Marcus does, and there are a couple very fair reasons behind this.

On the one hand, they both agree on doing things for the “self” (Which in their case is c!Thomas). They both agree that the self should be the most important person in one’s life, and will do whatever it takes to protect it. However, the biggest difference between them is the methods they go about doing so. And it’s here that Marcus’ righteous anger often clashes harshly with Janus’ need for self preservation. Marcus doesn’t lie, he doesn’t see the need to. If he wants something, he’ll do it. If he believes something, he’ll say it. He does it because he knows he’s right, and that’s what matters. Obviously this would cause a lot of problems in real life if you actually are that blunt 24/7, and in those cases Janus has to reign him in quite a bit.

Marcus is fundamentally reckless, brash, and prone to getting carried away if not kept in check, which makes him kind of a danger to Thomas’ wellbeing at times. The thing is, both of them are aware of this. Which is actually why Marcus isn’t as spiteful about stepping down as he could be. He knows that he can do more harm than good if he ever steps out of bounds. This won’t stop him from feeling like his input would infinitely accelerate certain debates, and on a personal level he does still feel like he has the right to fight for that recognition, but he doesn’t because he’s not dumb enough to actively cause harm to others for the sake of himself. It’s not what he wants. What he will and often does do however, is do things that end with him getting hurt in the end. Maybe the reason he disagrees with Janus so much is because his own sense of self preservation is surprisingly poor.

A mildly exaggerated analogy I like to think about is that: If under any circumstance the two of them would have to plot revenge, Janus would focus more on personal safety and Marcus would focus more on personal vindication. Marcus has zero qualms about actually throwing hands, no matter the resulting physical consequence (If his scars were any indication) which Janus would 100% be against. Imagine the consequences of a physical confrontation! Absolutely not. Snake man would prefer more subtle and manipulative tactics, and would probably prefer to frame someone without being implicated himself if possible. They usually compromise, but always butt heads one way or another.

In casual conversation, Marcus is more snarky to Janus than anything. They trade sarcastic remarks often and tend to be a lil snippy, but they often agree on similar points? But also insist that they don’t get along, which is pretty funny. Marcus calls Janus “Yellow” or “Snake”, and sometimes a few yellow flower names like “Tansy” or “Marigold”.

Remus

Would it come as a surprise if I said these two actually get along ok? Think about it: They’re both blunt, forthcoming with their ideas (As wild as Remus’ are), and are at times prone to violence. They’re both seen as “bad” and both have experienced being forcefully repressed one way or another. They kind of just vibe on a similar plane of existence if I’m honest with you. More than that however, both are relatively accepting of themselves, Remus more so than Marcus actually. There are some things Orange unfortunately still has to come to terms with.

On a casual level, they probably can do some pretty reckless and dumb things together. Marcus respects anybody with self confidence really, and the way Remus just owns being the garbage man he is definitely gets a pass in his book. It doesn’t mean they never disagree though. In a lot of ways, Marcus is still tied to logic, and Remus’ chaotic nature isn’t always suited to how he works. They conflict the most when it’s time to put the chips down and actually get things done. Remus totally does his best to bug the hell out of him too, much to his chagrin. He makes it pretty clear how he feels about it, but the duke isn’t fazed. Tackle the blind man, he dares you.

Marcus isn’t exactly good with creative input, it’s not his function. In fact, he himself is actually locked in a very specific type of world view from his experiences over the years. It’s not intentional, he just tends to grow irrational when he gets too heated. Sometimes he forgets to take his hand out of the fires that burn him, and it inevitably comes at a detriment to himself. Remus has the capacity to make him incredibly furious under bad circumstances, and if they aren’t careful he might actually act upon dangerous suggestions that Remus just casually suggests. If Remus is the voice behind intrusive thoughts, Marcus is the impulse that actually acts upon them. He won’t, obviously, but spite and anger can push people to do rash things. They both know better than that of course, but it’s a possibility that will never go away.

Marcus calls Remus “Green”, though he also refers to him by odd green things sometimes like “moss” or “seaweed”. I like to imagine the two of them going off and smashing up random things to blow off steam/just for fun. But that’s just me. u///u

---

If you’re still reading then thank you??? This is honestly more self indulgent than anything, but I just have way too much stuff I could talk about and it needs to go somewhere akjbefkaefk.

I shall talk about the rest in Part 2 perhaps. o///o

[dragalialore]

MMMM OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT ALL THAT JUICY GOODNESS IN CHAPTER 16

(spoilers. obviously)

In no real order:

Elisanne resolving her insecurities. The poor girl has been an absolute MESS ever since Harle purposely showed her the exact kind of information that would throw her off her feet. Remember, Elisanne is a Paladyn to the CORE--her entire world revolves around serving church and having the utmost faith in their teachings. The church is closely related to the royal family--recall how the Sacred Shards are said to be fragments of a sword gifted to Alberius, the founder of the kingdom, by Ilia herself. (Or, well, Meene. lol) I’m unsure if we’ve ever heard about any past Auspexes (Auspexi?), but Zethia being both from the royal bloodline and the Auspex of the Ilian church is possibly related. (Maybe their mother was the previous Auspex; it would explain why Zethia took up the mantle at such a young age.) ALL THAT means that Harle revealing to her that the church has been lying about her liege’s origins was a sure-fire way to throw her for a loop. Her faith in Euden was not wavering; her faith in the CHURCH was. This is why, at the end of Chapter 16, she chooses to step down as Grand Paladyn and serve Euden whole-heartedly. She recognizes that the Church’s teaching are not infallible, and that there is no shame in questioning the truths that she knows. This poor girl has been tormented by this anxiety since... what, post-Chapter 11? And she FINALLY found her answer. She doesn’t need the church to be part of her identity, and she doesn’t have to answer to them to have faith. This much is proved when the sheer potency of her prayer, filtered through Zena, purifies Poseidon in one shot.

Leonidas AND Chelle coming to Euden’s aid. FINALLY, the siblings are working together! With the glue that bound them previously, Morsayati, slurped up by their Hot Topic sibling, Leo and Chelle are FINALLY able to move more freely. The cracks in Leo’s armor that Alex found have been widening since Chapter 12; she has a fucking point there. Agreeing to be UNDER someone is the antithesis of Valkaheim’s, and by extension Leonidas’s, ideals. He’s the first-born fucking heir. He shouldn’t have to answer to ANYBODY. So why is he agreeing to be so subservient under a clear evil? The answer is a little clearer when you look at Chelle: the core of Chelle’s character is that she is always planning ahead. I have zero doubt that the second Morsayati offered his deal she was going to take him up on it, because Chelle is always playing every side. There’s no better place to keep an eye on the enemy than at the enemy’s side, and the proof that she was never with Morsayati in the first place is in both Chapter 11 and 12, where she intentionally sabotages the battle in ways favorable to Euden--Chapter 11 where she gives Emile control over androids that he DEFINITELY can’t handle, and 12 where she lets Euden walk right through her camp. There’s also the fact that while Morsayati was in power, they had their own city-states to worry about. Chelle and Leonidas have a responsibility to Chanzelia and Valkaheim respectively; while 16 shows that they’ve been mostly ignoring the rest of the territory, to abandon their own kingdoms would be unthinkable.

Leonidas’s seemingly heel-face turn. I’m not saying he HASN’T gotten character development; we all remember when Leo was introduced as the crazy maniacal first-born who experimented on his pact dragon and blew up his hired assassin without hesitation. I AM saying that Euden’s screaming match with him in the climax of Chapter 12 definitely got to him. Ever since Euden challenged his ideals, rescued him from certain death, and treated him without asking for anything in return, Leonidas has been significantly more subdued. He’s always thought of himself as the strongest and the best, and instead he got his ass handed to him by his youngest sibling that was using a dragon elementally inferior to his own. AND he got chided by his own ex-subject, WHO HE LITERALLY TRIED TO BLOW UP. Talk about a reality check! From then on, interludes do touch on how Leo is keeping track of Euden; probably through Chelle’s network. Despite it being clear that he knows Euden’s movements, he doesn’t really... do that much to stop him, even when Euden launches an attack on Sol Alberia. His sudden character 180-flip isn’t quite so sudden--it’s the culmination of four chapters of reflecting why his kid brother handed his ass to him. It wasn’t the power of friendship, or even his raw strength. Euden’s conviction is what’s let him smash through obstacle after obstacle, and as soon as Leonidas realizes that conviction is shaken, he doesn’t hesitate to help. Leonidas is, and always has been, about valuing strength--and this time, he recognized a different kind of strength in his little brother.

The acknowledgement of the state of New Alberia. Whatever the kingdom’s name is right now, it’s super fucky. New Alberia and Dyrenell’s clashes, along with Euden’s tunnel vision for Zethia’s rescue, have left the whole of southern Grastaea in shambles. Faith in the royal family is at an all-time low because they’ve all been squabbling amongst each other without much thought for the common people. Yes, Euden and his folks make it a point to shepherd people to the safety of New Alberia’s borders, along with making regular rounds to take out fiends, but his quest to defeat Dyrenell (read: save Zethia) is all that’s really on his mind. Laxi and Mascula are most definitely parallels to Euden and Zethia; Euden is apt to run into situations without a second thought, not hesitating to fight if it’s clear talking won’t work. Zena, on the other hand, has basically been Euden’s braincell for the last two chapters: Euden is ready to do something dumb, and then Zena says “hey Euden maybe don’t do that actually” and Euden immediately settles down. I’m pretty sure the primary reason she was included in the main cast was so she could act as Euden’s conscience, and the last two chapters have not proven me wrong.

Euden’s potential origins. SO I’ve seen theories floating around about Euden being a changeling or fairy child since the Chapter 12 interludes, and it looks like they’re confirmed in this chapter. Euden’s true nature seems to be the son of an important faerie, Finlorda. However, knowing what we do about faerie lore, it’s got everyone wondering if Euden’s wings were removed to preserve the illusion of him being human. I’m not super sure what to think--I mean, fae lore dictates that faeries reach a period in their adolescence when they get big, but for this whole ruse to work, it would mean that Euden’s been human-sized since the beginning. Does taking a faerie’s wings completely absolve them of their magic? (Note I have yet to read Meene’s story; my perspective may change.) Euden coming from the faerie kingdom casts questions on Notte, too--we know that Zethia found her in the garden after she tried to convince dragons that they were kin. Who is she, really, and why doesn’t she remember anything about the faerie kingdom? Something hinky is going on, and hopefully it’ll be explored in Chapter 18 when they reach the kingdom.

The assurance of Euden’s place in his family. This. THIS is why Euden had such a major freakout. The absolute, gut-wrenching TERROR that he’s been ignoring his country’s plight, his friend’s pleas, all of that for a girl that might not even consider him her brother. That all the mistakes and sacrifices he’s made have been pointless. And let’s also point out that Leonidas REFUSES to recognize Euden as his own brother in his introduction chapter! He literally calls Euden a grain of dust. And yet this chapter. THIS CHAPTER has Leonidas EXPLICITLY telling Euden that regardless of his origins, he considers Euden to be his brother. Those are the words that Euden needed to hear. That is the reassurance Euden was desperate to have. This is the first time anyone OTHER THAN Zethia/Zena has properly acknowledged Euden as family; Phares uses it in passing, Emile hates his guts and insults him, and Beren mocks him with it. His oldest brother and sister heartfeltedly telling him that he is their brother was what Euden needed, and I am so very glad that he got it.

Chelle joining the main party. The first mainworld royal party member! FUCK YEAH!!! I know a lot of people thought it would be Leonidas, with all that emphasis on him in the preview, but like, c’mon. Of course his little sister would steal the spotlight. Plus she has an entire moving ship, so no more camping in the woods for the main party! Woo!!!! It also gives us an opportunity to see how she runs things, and more specifically, how it’ll work in the main cast’s favor now that she’s finally not explicitly against them. I’m super excited. (And hey, Leo might be the next Gala along with Poseidon. Who knows?)

All in all, this was, perhaps, THE most emotionally satisfying chapter Dragalia Lost has put out. Fears were assuaged, families were reunited, problems were solved... someone please put the Stefon meme here. This chapter has everything: family love, guns, sexy new outfits, the characters you love finally being happy...

[starwarsdestroyedme]

Toe-socks

So, this turned out longer than expected. Also, thanks for the notice on the other post about the taglists! 

One-shot

AO3   

Relationships: Intrulogical, background prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, Platonic Logince, Platonic Royalty 

Summary: Remus always loves to make an entrance. Logan only wanted to finish his presentation. Everybody is confused.

“Precisely because I can tell that Patton and Virgil are more reactive to Remus’ outbursts I suggested for them to stay with you. You agreed to this. Half an hour ago this wasn’t an issue”. “Half an hour ago I didn’t know you were banging my brother!”

Word count: 4837

Warnings: Roman may seem unsympathetic at the start, but I promise, it all gets sorted out and justified in the end, so, please, bear with me. Remus being Remus. Arguing. Logan and Roman say somewhat nasty stuff to eachother (they talk it out though), and none more I can think of. 

Opposite Warnings: (self-explanatory name. I just wanted to also highlight nice things!) Patton being a proud dad, protective Virgil, Roman addressing his feelings and talking about them, Remus caring about Logan, CARELESS WHISPER PLAYS NEED I SAY MORE?

Edit: Now there’s a related story! Head over heels 

Toe-socks

Logan passed to the next slide of his power-point. Today he was doing a presentation for his proposal about Thomas’ new schedules. 

It had been a while since they all agreed to make a collective effort to meet once a month to correct various problems. That month specifically, the meeting was to be at Logan’s room - they too had established to rotate locations between the main room, Logan’s and the Imagination, depending on the topic, Patton’s and Virgil’s rooms were excluded for everyone’s safety - because the order of the day were the schedules. 

“So, if we set bedtime to nine we’ll be able to regulate properly sleep schedules, which would noticeably improve overall daily performance”. 

Virgil raised his hand. 

“Yes, Virgil?”

“If the aim is for Thomas to get 8 hours of sleep why don’t we move bedtime to 10?”

“Ah, that’s because I’m taking into account the time he may take to fall asleep”. 

“That won’t grant that he falls asleep at 10, specially if a certain someone appears…” 

“It will be okay, I have a contingency plan for that situation”. 

Logan went to the next slide, revealing his action plan. 

“So, as Virgil kindly pointed out: if the Duke showed up, Patton and him should go to Roman’s side of the Imagination”. 

“Are you okay with that?” Virgil asked, looking at Roman. 

Roman nodded with a smile while he gently pressed on Virgil’s knee. 

“I asked Roman prior to the meeting and--” 

Roman stood up and stroke a pose. 

“Fear not Dear Evaneshansen and Papá*, my castle and I are at your service! I’ll keep you safe!”

“That” Logan gestured at Roman and took a deep breath. 

Logan adjusted his glasses and skipped to the following slide, eager to retake control of his presentation. They still had a few points to discuss, and it wasn’t as if Logan didn’t have more things programmed for today, so he couldn’t afford wasting time. 

“We still have more to go through, so if you could please pay attention I should be able to get it done in--” 

Then, the lights went out. 

“Great, now what”. 

“Hey, Lo! Who turned the lights out?” Patton joked, just as Virgil turned on a small torch. 

“That, was a really dark reference, Patton” Logan answered.

“As dark as this room?”

“Oh, for the love of…”

Suddenly, Careless Whisper’s instrumental roared across the room. 

“What is going on?!” Roman shouted. 

Logan closed his eyes, his mouth contracted into an exasperated line. He sighed tired and turned to the left. A door, frame included and all, appeared next to the table.  It opened at the purest Doraemon style, making way for a slithering cloud of smoke inside which green and white lights scattered. 

A pair of toe-socks up to the knee, decorated with horizontal rainbow stripes, slid on the wooden floor doing the moonwalker. Inside of said socks was Remus, letting his hair down singing the first lines of Careless Whisper. 

“I feel so unsure, as I take your hand, and lead you to the --” Remus turned around with impetus, pointing with his right arm extended, placing the other behind his head. 

Remus’ expression was a picture the entire time, first biting on his lower lip suggestively, frowning in an expressive manner; then, eyes wide open, a hint of annoyance in them, and his jaw  dropping into a grimace of indignation. 

Logan corresponded him arching his eyebrows and making an effort to turn his lips into a two point thick line. Or, said differently, an angered mother face.

Remus blinked several times. He took a glance at the rest. Virgil had his arm placed in front of his brother, who was holding back more due to the authority of his boyfriend’s gesture rather than the force Virgil could be exerting against his abdomen. Patton had turned into the colour of a low-fat yoghurt. The father looked at him up and down positively horrified. 

Grand entrance, check. It didn’t go as expected, but, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not unless the horse asked for it. 

He went back to focusing on Logan. 

“Was it today?!”

“Indeed”.

“Well, fuck me!” he cursed. 

Logan adjusted his tie with annoyance and turned to his presentation. He looked at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Let me finish this first”. 

The monosyllabic equivalent of a horse laugh escaped out of Remus. 

“That wasn’t what I meant, but, works for me!” he smiled from ear to ear. 

Right after that, he shrugged and set course back to the door doing the moonwalker. 

“--guilty feet have got no rhythm. Though it’s easy to pretend, I know you’re not a fool…” he picked the song back as he disappeared, taking the door with him. 

The room was left in sepulchral silence. Virgil looked at the floor with a face that said something along the lines of ‘I’m rethinking my entire life’, Roman’s eyes wouldn’t stop going back and forth from Logan to where the door had vanished. Patton had sat down on the couch and looked at Logan as to encourage him to speak. 

“Sorry about that, now, where were we?”

Virgil glanced up and he made a contained version of one of Roman’s wild gesticulations. 

“What the hell was that?!”

“Remus, of course, you saw him too” Logan played the matter down, wanting to go back to the presentation. 

“I saw more than I wish I had seen” Roman said. 

“He does not like wearing clothes” Patton added, as to agree with Roman. 

“He was wearing socks, so, technically, he was dressed. I swear he only does it to be annoying”. 

“I mean, why did he do that?” Virgil asked with a mixture of overwhelm, annoyance and confusion. 

“That depends on what you’re asking about. If you’re referring to the… uh… nudity issue, then it’s because I told him I wouldn’t talk to him if he wasn’t dressed”.

Virgil furrowed his brows. Considering Remus’ personality, he found it very odd that he had even bothered to get ‘dressed’... or whatever that was. He knew first hand that if the Duke didn’t feel like doing something, persuading him otherwise turned out to be tricky, not to say almost impossible. 

“On the other hand, if you mean the whole situation, well, I believe he was attempting to have intercourse with me” said Logan, trying to be conciliatory and failing miserably. 

“Uh… okay, what?” Virgil muttered to himself.

“Is there something you need to tell us, kiddo?” Patton inquired.

Of course, Logan took this as a prompt for him to continue with the presentation. 

“Yes. Thank you, Patton. As I was saying before we got interrupted…”

“Oh my god! Why is my brother trying to get into your pants, nerd?!” 

Logan frowned and looked at Virgil for help. 

“Get into someone’s pants, as in trying to have sex with them”. 

“I think the answer will upset you, but, if you must know, we had it scheduled for later today. Remus has poor impulse control, so he came here earlier. He, also, completely forgot that the reason why, was because I had a meeting with all of you”. 

Patton looked at Logan with muted worry. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say upsetting… more like... shocking?” 

“Deeply disturbing” corrected Roman. 

"We’re all… a bit shaken up, but that’s no reason to say things so negatively charged--” 

“What?! How am I supposed to react? Nerd over there is… ew… my evil twin brother, who, by the way, tried to kill him several times and we’re all going to pretend that it’s fine?!” 

After Roman ended acting all fussy, he just stood there, taking a glance at the rest, expectant. Patton looked back at him. His lips pressed together and turned to the right, it was hard to tell if with disapproval, pity or empathy. He leaned to say all three. Then there was Virgil, who was still standing with a thoughtful semblance, and Logan, with his face of indignation half-dissolved in indifference, clearly denoted by the eyebrow he just raised. 

“Taking into account that Remus’ direct actions don’t affect me, and he knows that, I’d hardly consider it a murder attempt, therefore, I don’t see your argument neither pertinent nor relevant”. 

“We understand what you mean, Logan, but it isn’t particularly nice to see how you collapse on the floor with a shot to the head. Even if we kinda know nothing will happen to you it can still… frighten us up a little”. 

“More like almost scaring Patton to death, and V being on the verge of an anxiety attack”. 

Virgil turned his head towards Roman and gave him a look of ‘dude, no. Now’s not a good time and we agreed not to talk about it, I can’t believe you just brought it up only to tell Logan off on dating your brother’. Or, what Roman interpreted as: ‘you know it affected be a lot and we agreed not to talk about it, least when I’m impacted with all this new info’. 

“I’m sorry, Virge. But it’s true, the fact is that both Virgil and Patton need to come to my side of the Imagination because Remus can’t manage to be nice to anyone for a even two seconds”. 

“I don’t think you’re objective enough to be able to judge Remus’ capabilities properly. That, to begin with,---” 

“Logan!” Patton exclaimed. 

“Did I say anything incorrect? Roman cannot be objective with his brother because he deeply despises him”. 

“Dude, sensitive topic” said Virgil whilst leaning his head. 

“Roman may not like the Duke, but that doesn’t make his opinion any less valid”  Patton began to say, looking at the logical side, and then moving onto Roman “and it’s not alright to say things tactless, Roman”. 

“I say things tactless?! Have you heard any of what the nerd said?! I’m not the one who’s ignoring that you can barely be in the same room as my brother!”. 

“Precisely because I can tell that Patton and Virgil are more reactive to Remus’ outbursts I suggested for them to stay with you. You agreed to this. Half an hour ago this wasn’t an issue”.

“Half an hour ago I didn’t know you were banging my brother!”

“That changes nothing, because hadn’t you found out, my arrangement with Remus would have remained the same, so the problem and the situation would not change, thus, this has nothing to do with Patton or Virgil. You’re simply determined on demonising Remus because of your disagreements”.

“Disagreements, that’s a light way to put it. Remus is bad for Thomas!”

“And that may be so at the moment, but it's still unrelated as to my relationship with him”.

“How do you expect me to look you in the eye knowing there’s something going on between you?”

“This conversation is useless and ridiculous”. 

Logan went to the table and took a book from it, he then sat down and started to read its contents trying to keep exasperation at bay.

“Roman, we’re not here to judge Logan. I understand it’s hard to process, but it isn’t okay to---” 

“No! You all think the same and the only one who’s being upfront about it is me”.

“I don’t think that… well, not exactly, but although I’m not the Duke’s biggest fan, it’s not okay for us not to support Logan’s relationship”. 

“Oh, lord, they’re just having sex! I don’t see how it’s worth it for us to have a bad time just because Remus feels like having a fling with Logan”. 

The deafening sound of a chair moving backwards cut the conversation. Logan, gripping his book with anger, had stood up. 

“That’s it. Enough nonsense for today! Seeing that I can’t finish my presentation, I’m leaving”. 

“Oh, yeah, run away from the conversation” Roman replied, just as mad. 

Logan held back his desire to throw the book at the Prince’s face. 

“Firstly, I’m not running away from anything. What happens is that the only explanation I owe you is that from my presentation, which was why we met today. You’ve spent forty-three minutes without letting me speak, interrupting me and deviating from the topic. Today, I only planned to talk about the new schedules. My relationship, or, as you so eloquently decided to put it, ‘fling’ with Remus is none of your business, nor open to debate. It is something private and you have no sort of authority to make value judgments about it. Secondly, I have tasks to do and very strict schedules that you are messing with. On another note, your sensitivity to the topics Remus brings up and his ability to be nice to others aren’t correlative. It merely makes him incompatible with you. You can’t universalize that. Lastly, your opinion is biased and you can’t assess the situation accurately without all of the data; which I have no obligation nor want to provide you with. I’ll send you a briefing of my presentation and will see you tomorrow. Goodbye”. 

Logan sank back right after he was done taking. 

“Logan, wa--!” Virgil tried to call for him in vain. “Oh, shhhhoot. Roman! Where the hell did that come from?” 

“Are you going to take his side too?” answered Roman sounding genuinely betrayed.  

“Yeah, he may have been a jerk, but you went waaaay further than that”. 

“Well, you didn’t say any of that before Logan left”. 

“No, because I was too busy trying to process everything everyone was saying, or rather, shouting” said Virgil, his nerves on edge.  

“Are you fine, kiddo?”

“Yeah. I’m just having a hard time at dealing with it, it’s a lot to take in. Everything has escalated way too quickly”. 

“That’s an understatement”. 

“Ro… leave it”. 

“So you both think it’s okay for him to elope with the Duke”. 

“I don’t think that it’s right nor wrong, I simply make nothing of it because is none of my goddamned business”. 

“This affects the three of us” 

“No, no it doesn’t” said Virgil with frustration. “We’re not the ones dating Remus”. 

“Look, Roman, I know you say this because you’re worried about your pop and your Virge, but that’s no reason not to support Logan. What we need is to work out together so we can find a solution” added Patton.

“Yeah? Well, how are we going to do that if Logan just vanished?” 

“Maybe he wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t hurt his feelings” Virgil shook his hands as if Roman’s head was in between them, and by doing so he could get the idea through that thick skull of his. 

“I can’t possibly hurt LOGIC’S feelings, and I’m not the one saying it, it’s him who keeps on bragging about how he doesn’t have them”. 

“Hmm… but we all know that’s not true”. 

“Gosh, Princey, seriously you think Logan would get so mad if he didn’t care about Remus?” 

“Logan gets angry whenever we don’t tell him he’s right, which is what all of that was about”. 

“But it wasn’t, heck, imagine how you’d feel if someone said all that’s between you and me is just sex” 

“But we don’t have… it’s not the same thing!”

“You don’t know that”. 

“Yeah, if Logan’s reaction is anything to go by, I’d say it’s more than just that” said Patton with a face that had written sympathy all over it.

“Logan’s reactions can literally mean anything because he’s the least expressive out of all of us”. 

“Okay, you don’t want to trust Logan’s reaction? Fine! Then let’s go by the fact that Remus left the room because Logan told him so, wears those ridiculous socks because of him and ACTUALLY has conversations with Logan about his schedules. You and I both know there’s no way your brother would do that if he didn’t give a damn about what Logan thought about him. Heck! Not even freaking DECEIT could get him to do what he wanted, he barely kept him under control. Only I used to manage to do it, and not without using a toxic amount of fear and anxiety first”.  

Roman just stood there, looking at his boyfriend, deeply worried. 

It was one thing for Virgil to defend Logan, but going to the extreme of bringing up his time as a Dark Side, now that was a whole different story. A wave of guilt run him up and down. He knew how triggering Virgil found it to even mention it.

"Maybe we'll all just have to learn to accept the fact that the Duke may care about Logan in his own way" said Patton looking at nowhere "and apologize to our dear old teach" he fixed his eyes on Roman. 

"I… perhaps you're right. I simply… when I look at Remus I see everything I don’t want to become and it’s hard for me to digest that Logan and him are together, because Logan’s always shooting down my ideas. I know he’s already apologised for it, we’re trying to get better… but he still antagonises me and, although it can help me improve, the rest of the time it makes me feel as… as if I wasn’t good enough. I mean, yeah, there’s pressure everywhere,” hearing this coming from Roman, both Patton and Virgil walked up to him to stay beside him “but with Logan I notice it more. Him dating Remus makes me think that perhaps he’s better than me, that maybe I’m the side of creativity that Thomas shouldn’t listen to”.  

“I didn’t know you thought that”. 

“Oh, Roman, is that how you really feel? Why didn’t you tell us?” said Patton placing a hand on the Prince’s arm. 

“Hmmm… I know I should have talked about it, but you already have your own issues and it didn’t feel important enough. Besides, it’s not easy to admit that Prince Charming” he gestured at himself moving his hand up and down, smiling bitterly “is afraid of not being able to make Thomas’ life into a fairytale”. 

Virgil threw himself at Roman’s arms and held him tight after hearing all that. 

“I know it’s hard… I know very well… but you can always come and talk to me, or to Patton… or Logan”. 

“That’s right Ro, we’ll always…” Patton moved fast and gave him a hug from behind “have your back!”

Roman loosely held onto one of Patton’s arms, that circled his shoulders, and caressed Virgil’s head, a smile of contemptment beginning to appear on his face. How could he be so lucky to have them? 

“Thanks guys… guess I should go apologize to Logan, I just have to find out where he is”. 

It didn’t take long for that question to be answered. Remus materialised himself in the room without warning, like the living pop-up he was. It was possible perceive in his expression, characterised by that mix of smugness and diva, a glimpse of superlative anger. With that in mind, Roman disentangled himself from Patton and Virgil, placing the last one behind him too. 

"I am going to end all of you, assholes" said Remus, with a tone more serious than anyone watching were used to.

Roman extended his left arm and conjured his katana, unsheathed already, with an agile wrist move. 

"Starting with you bro" Remus aimed at him with his morningstar and positioned himself, as if all of that were just a baseball match.

Roman braced himself for disaster and the cleaning that would follow after. Scrubbing his brains off the wall wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant. Virgil stepped forward, or rather to Roman’s side. 

“Try that and I’ll make you regret it” Virgil’s distorted voice flooded the room as if it were coming from the walls. 

He responded by flinching the tiniest bit. Regardless, his resolve was clear: he wouldn’t back off. 

“Oh, Virgil! This display? Just for me? But you haven’t closed the door! We may be seen! YOU may be seen. Are you willing to show your true colours in front of your new buddies?”

“They are not my buddies, they’re my family and if necessary I’ll get you off the way”. 

“You should have thought about that before messing with my nerd” Virgil’s eyes opened wide with realisation. What about Logan? He couldn’t harm Remus. But Remus would definitely do it, judging by the lightning-fast morningstar moving towards Roman’s face.  “Let’s put your theory to the test!”

Virgil pushed Roman to the floor, behind him, ready to take the full impact of the morningstar. He closed his eyes and waited. 

"Remus, that's quite enough" said Logan. 

Logic stood in between Virgil and Remus, effortlessly holding the shaft of the morningstar. Remus stared at Logan’s rest in bitch face dumbfounded. 

The Prince’s body was spreaded on the floor, he leaned on his forearm, with a spooked expression directed right at the back of Virgil’s head. He only came out of the trance to find Patton. Morality gestured at him, trying to help him get up. 

"What? Bitch, are you serious? He asked for it!" Remus pointed at his brother, releasing his grip on the weapon. 

"I don't care. No matter how impermanent it might be, I'd rather you didn't kill, maim, harm not harass him". 

"He deserves to…" 

"Remus, I understand where this comes from” he began to say, putting the morningstar down “and I'm aware of  how hard it is for you to exert control over your impulses. But this isn't helping me". 

"But! But he's an asshole! He deserves to have his testicles bitten off by a hyena".

"Remus," Logan conjured a notebook with a pen clipped to the cover "I need you to write it down as we practiced. Let me handle this myself" 

"But…" 

Logan took a long, exhausted, breath.

"Please". 

Remus’s body language changed completely, fully giving up. Loose. He took the notebook and sank back. 

Logan turned around, giving the rest a chance to finally take a look at him. 

Logan wasn’t wearing his glasses. 

His tie was undone, and his hair look the slightest bit disheveled. Reddish spider webs were imprinted in his puffy eyes, matching his blushed nose. 

“Wow, Logan, you look like shit” Virgil was the first to voice everyone’s worry, as per usual. 

“Oh, my apologies”  he conjured his glasses and put them on. Then proceeded to get his tie knot done. 

Patton stepped forward to hug him, unable to hold back. 

“Logan… dear mother of waffles!” The dad cupped his face. “Have you been c-- are you okay?” he bit his tongue on the last second, reminded of Logan’s reticence to talk about feelings. 

“I… I have been preoccupied”. 

“Logan…” 

“Roman, I do not wish to engage in conversation with you. I got Remus to leave, okay? I’m not in the mindset for debate” said Logan, ready to sink back again. 

“Wait!” 

“What do you want?” 

Patton and Virgil made a non-verbal pact to leave them some space and moved away, limiting themselves to watch the situation unfold, ready to intervene if necessary. Patton gave Roman a conciliatory smile. 

“I’m sorry! I was too rash, and it wasn’t my place to judge your relationship with Remus. I guess I got angry when I found out that you’re dating him, because of how much you criticize me, it makes me feel that he’s better than me, and that maybe you’ll just want him to do my job instead…” 

“Roman, there’s no way Remus could perform your job. He isn’t constant and gets more distracted than you. Even though his ideas are transgressive, they’re barely practical and don’t fit Thomas’ audience. You, on the other hand,” Logan joined the tips of his fingers and gestured at Roman “take production more into account and strive to create content that satisfies the audience”.

“But what good is that if I don’t challenge them?” 

“Good content doesn’t have to be at odds with pleasing the viewership. If your aim is to entertain, or, as Patton would put it,” he briefly glanced at him “make people happy, how can achieving that be bad? If what you create does what it was meant for then it is a good content”. 

“Well, that may be right, but Remus can handle more mature content better than me”.  

Logan frowned and rethought his strategy.  

“Would you consider Steven Universe bad content?” 

“What?! No! Also, Steven Universe treats mature topics”.  

“Indeed, but addressing mature topics isn’t a synonym for mature content. Roman, your ideas are perfectly capable of accomodating mature topics. You don’t need to make mature content to be a good creator”. 

“But Remus is right, what will Thomas’ legacy be if we just keep doing the same things over and over?” 

“Falsehood. We’re not doing the same things over and over, and, even if that were the case, that doesn’t mean we can’t change the content, if Thomas eventually decides to do so”. 

“But what if I’m not good enough for whatever he chooses to do next? What if he replaces me for Remus?” 

Logan smirked after hearing this and went on. 

“Ah, I see what the problem is. Roman, would you refrain altogether from acting if you failed at an audition?” 

“No” Roman answered with a hint of indignation. 

“Good. Then we can extrapolate that to what you said.” Logan made a pause and considered his next words. “There is always a chance for failure, but failing doesn’t restrict our chances for future success. If we consider your ideas from the angle of whether or not they achieve their purpose, then I’d be inclined to say they’re good. Thus, making you a good creator”.

Logan paused yet again, leaving Roman room to speak. Interestingly enough, the Prince remained quiet, letting Logic’s words sink in.  

“Of course, one could argue that what makes a content good or bad is inherently subjective, but entertaining that thought isn’t useful as a means of judging the quality of what you produce” he added, anticipating what Roman might have been pondering on. “Moreso, it is counterproductive because it only leads us to overthinking. Your desire to grow should not be a discouragement, but a source of motivation”.  

“What about Remus?” 

“Well… while I do believe that Remus should be allowed to be part of the conversation, he can’t act as a substitute for your contributions. Just as Remus can come up with things you can’t, that also applies the other way around”. 

“Then you don’t like Remus better?”

“The nature of our relationship is completely different to the one I have with any of you, so I could not effectively compare them, thus value one above the other”. 

Roman’s arms fell to his sides, he stared at the teacher, unsure as to what to say next. 

“Well, thanks Logan, that was... really nice… I’m very sorry for before”. 

“No problem, I can now understand why you reacted the way you did. I suppose an apology is due. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to correctly assess the way you were feeling and that I may have been somewhat insensitive”. 

“We’re both at fault, I guess”. 

“Correct. You were unfair and I was” Logan searched through his vocab cards until he found one and flipped it. It was written in all caps with black chinese ink, using thick angular strokes “an r/iamverysmart”. 

“What?” Virgil began to laugh. 

Patton went to Roman’s side and squeezed a bit on his arm. 

“I’m very proud of you, Ro” he said in a low voice. 

“Remus wanted to contribute to my efforts of understanding modern slang and gifted me with new vocab cards I’ve added to my research. Did I use that one properly?” 

“Naaah… not really” Virgil replied and began to give him some examples so he could frame the concept properly. 

“I’m glad I talked about it”. 

“Me too. I know how hard it is for you, Roman, and I’m so, so proud”. 

“Thanks, Dad” the Prince smiled. He went back to looking at his emo nightmare and Logan. 

“Leaving aside the most gruesome traits of his writing, I’m now proofreading a mystery novel he’s begun, and it’s very engaging” the tiniest of smiles appeared on Logan’s face.

“Isn’t that your favourite genre?” 

“In fiction, yes. So, understandably, I was pleased to assist him. He gave me the chance to contribute with plenty of Agatha Christie references”. 

“Well, it might turn out you and Remus may make a good couple” said Roman, too distracted by how surprised he found what Logan had said to really think about the wording he had used. 

Virgil looked at him in confusion, while Logan waited for him to elaborate. 

Roman opened his eyes wide, mentally rewinding. Oh. 

“Not that I am saying that’s what you are… I know you don’t need my approval, but no matter what’s in between you and Remus, I’m cool with it” he placed a hand behind his head and stood awkwardly. 

“That’s… quite alright. I appreciate that. And, regarding your previous statement, yes, I believe we do”. 

*so I’ve seen Roman call Patton padre a lot, but dad in Spanish translates into papá rather than padre. You see padre=father, papá=dad and papi=daddy. So I chose to go with papá. 

Taglist: 

@coffeemeryspace , @theantisocialghost , @musical--llama , @ambersky0319 , @tacohippy56900 , @1-800-im-not-ok , @dabookwormcat , @starkerparkerx , @littlestliu 

@creativity-killed-thekitten I tagged you seeing that in ‘Rain on me’ you told me to, but if you wish to be removed from the taglist please do tell!

[aquietcollectionofthings]

Vengeance //SansaxIvar// oneshot

A GoTxVikings mash-up. Ivar is King of Kattegat and Sansa has already been married off to Ramsay Bolton. One of the few things I’ve written in awhile and liked enough to post. May eventually expand further, but will certainly edit forever. --

When they found her she’d been locked away, dressed in nothing but thin, filthy, nightdress. The room was cold and empty minus the bed and furs covering it. She’d been in a corner-- not quite cowering but seemingly preparing for someone to attack her by the time he’d arrived. Despite the amused looks on the Vikings faces as they lowered their own weapons she held hers at the ready- a bloodied piece of almost sharp wood she had pried from her headboard and now clenched tightly in her fist. The blood from her hands had run in small rivers down her wrist to her elbow and had already begun to dry, the rust colored rivulets a stark contrast against her pale skin.

King Ivar and the others certainly hadn’t intended to find her, they never really expected to find people locked away, but he’d been going through some of the rooms with a few of his men and.. there she was. Practically waiting to be found. He had been one room over when they’d broken through her door at first, she’d started screaming as his men had entered the room and he had gone to find out what the commotion was about. The click of his crutch on the stone echoing loudly as he entered the now silent room.

“What’s your name?” He’d asked sharply, but she either hadn’t understood him or was refusing to answer. Trying again in what he thought may be her language, tone clipped as the word slipped from his lips, he asked her, “Name?”

After a brief moment of hesitation she’d finally responded. “Sansa” she’d said quietly, eyes to the floor while a mess of fiery red tresses hung down to hide her face. Between the dirty strands he could see the heavy bags beneath her eyes, almost purple against her fair skin. “The Lady here?” But he got no response despite what he was sure had been the right words. Settling on to the crutch tucked under his arm he looked her over curiously. As he went to approach her the movement seemed to set her off, she came at him quickly but he stopped her. She was soft, worn down from whatever she’d endured in this cage of a room, and he knocked her to the side easily with the hand not tightly gripping his crutch. He hadn’t intended to hurt her, but she had tried to stab him. It only seemed fair enough. As she hit the ground the blanket slipped away and he could see the angry tips of thick welts along her shoulders, disappearing beneath the thin and bloodied material trying to cover her. When a few of his men stepped forward he shook his head, a sharp ‘no’ cutting through the silence.

One of the men that had found her stepped forward, eyeing the seemingly wild girl splayed on the ground, “King Ivar... what do you want to do with her?” It was a good question and he searched for an answer, considering the things he’d heard in their days leading up to the attack on Winterfell. He knew the Lord had a wife, but they assumed like the others before him they would send her away, off to her family to be protected until the heathen threat had gone.  

Ivar chewed the inside his cheeks for a moment, eyeing the girl on the ground while she watched him through the safety of her hair. They appraised each other in a loaded silence, each trying to gauge just how much trouble the other might be. When the king found nothing but sadness in her eyes he tore his own away, looking past her to the bed once more. “Take her to my tent at the camp, keep her safe,” he said quietly, turning on the man after a moment to give him a serious look. “Give her your cloak and don’t let her out of your sight. Go.” Turning away from the confused looks he received he left the room, moving on to the next one. No one would be bold enough to question his motives in the moment.

-

Back at the camp Ivar rounded up a few of the thralls he’d collected along their journey- the war the Saxons were waging amongst each other had made their last couple of raids easy and they’d been blessed with several bountiful ones that season already. It made selecting the girls to tend to his guest easy, though he did choose them each for specific reasons. Two had come from within the Earl’s home of the first kingdom they’d attacked upon their arrival and had been tending to him since. The third had come from the village before they’d reached Winterfell, if there really was a language barrier he’d hoped she would be the one to overcome it.

Inside of his tent she sat beside the bed, back pressed against the edge of it as she stared at the furs beneath her feet. Taking a seat at the table a good ways away from her he waved a hand at the man at the doorway, sending him out. Pointing at the girl he’d found nearest to her city he motioned her over to Sansa, she would relate to her the most, maybe know who she was, the other two he directed to the wash basin. One went off to fetch the water while the other gathered the supplies they would need to clean her up.

Looking back to Sansa and the thrall he watched the low-born girl whispering to her, trying to coax her up, but the so-called Lady wasn’t budging. What did she think was happening? She needed to bathe, to eat, they needed answers from her— who would be looking for her, who would pay for her. Ivar slammed a fist down on the table, pitcher and glasses rattling from the motion. As the thrall returned with the first bucket of water and filled the basin Sansa finally looked up, looking from the basin, to Ivar and back to the girl kneeling in front of her. She murmured something to the slave and the girl gave her a sheepish look before crossing the room to Ivar. “Sir, your majesty...” the thrall struggled with what to say, considering her words carefully, “she’s... she’s shy, she says she doesn’t want you to see her.”

A strangled laugh worked its way out and he shook his head, “Tell her to get in the fuckin’ tub or this is the last polite thing I will do. Remind her that the only people that care she is a Lady are...” he motioned around the room as both girls watched him speak, “not here.” When the thrall hesitated he hit the table again and she hurried back across the room. He was still unsure why he was concerned with her well-being, but something was telling him he had to be.  

Ivar watched as the thrall got the other girl to her feet, shushing the protests she was whimpering out and trying to wipe the rapidly falling tears from her face. The slave girls' reassurances were falling on deaf ears, she just kept repeating the same phrase, ”He’s nice, he’s nice,” and wiping at eyes that wouldn’t stop weeping. Leading her across the room as the other two girls finished putting the bath together, the thrall paused, a hand on the other girl's back as she urged her forward, looking back to the king to see if he saw what she did. The bloodstains that scattered the back of her gown varied in color and size, from shoulder to knee, welts and lacerations still peeked from her collar. “I know,” was all he said on it, nodding at her to continue despite the girls sobbing. If it was as bad as he presumed the bath would be good for her, they’d clean her up then they would bring someone in to treat it in the morning.

It would take all three of the girls to get the gown off of her as she struggled, one of the girls going to leave to wash it. Ivar stopped her, beckoning her over to take it from her hands. He’d just begun to unfold it when he’d caught sight of her bare skin as the remaining girls helped her into the tub. His lip curled back in disgust and he looked to thrall, away from the painful sight of the girls back. “Find her a new one, something suitable to travel in,” It had been worse than he’d thought, they weren’t old, not all of them. Most were fresh, some had split in the centers of bursts of overlapping bites from whatever they had taken to her and there was no mistaking the carefully carved characters in her skin for the normally hand printed letters he had seen himself in the Christians texts. “Who?” He demanded, leaning forward in his seat as he waited expectantly for an answer.

The thrall that had gotten Sansa to the tub knelt down beside it with her now, wiping at the girl's face once more as her own eyes watered. “He wants to know who did this to you...” she whispered, reaching into the tub to pull one of the girl’s hands off her shoulders and into her own. While the king had lashed out a time or two since she’d been with them, she hadn’t seen him act out with downright cruelty, not like what was displayed on the girls back. Maybe a swat at her ass when he was drunk and a compliment in poor taste, a bit of yelling when something was done wrong, the ruthless treatment of the Christian men, but never cruel with her or the other girls.

A distressed whimper left Sansa’s lip and she leaned on to the edge of the tub, “He was supposed to be my husband,” she whispered, squeezing the thrall’s hand tightly in hers, “he was supposed to be a Lord.” From across the room Ivar could see the reaction to his guests’ words and his brow furrowed as he waited to be filled in.

“It was the Lord there,” the slave girl repeated, looking past Sansa to the King again, “His name was Bolton. Ramsay Bolton.. I knew of him before..” she shook her head, trailing off, that didn’t matter now. Focusing back on Sansa she picked up a rag, joining the other girl in tending to the woman.

Ivar stayed quiet, processing the information before collecting his crutch and rising from his chair. Disappearing out of the tent he tasked the man currently stationed at the entrance with finding out if the offender was alive or dead and few follow up instructions for either outcome. It didn’t matter that she was a Lady, not really, that didn’t guarantee anyone would pay for her, but as he took his seat back at the table and watched the bathing with a morbid curiosity he considered why he was invested. The absolute and utter cruelty behind it all? The time that was put into it? He couldn’t be sure, not quite yet. Not until he saw the man— whether it be alive or dead with his head on a spike. They’d certainly need something to leave behind for the others to find.

As the thralls started on her hair he snapped his fingers at them for their attention, watching as they paused on the knots they were working at. “Do something with it when you get her out, we’ll leave tomorrow,” he’d intended to find her people at first, bargain with them for a reward, but now he was not sure that it would be worth it— for himself or Sansa. The slave girls shared a look between each other— they had observed the customs over their few days of being around the Vikings, they knew that braids were only meant for shield maidens preparing for battle and those that were married. Did The King have a plan?

“Where are we going?” Sansa whispered from the safety of the tub to the thrall’s, arms wrapping tightly around her chest once more. “To Kattegat,” one whispered back to her, “he is the king there…” they had all glanced back at him at the mention of it and he attempted to return their stares with a soft smile, though his eyes were still narrowed and dark. A chill ran down her spine despite the warm water and she looked away, thankful to see the missing thrall returning with what looked like a fresh dress.

-

As the girls were finishing up with Sansa in the tub there was a commotion outside of the tent and Ivar had to wave a hand at the thrall’s to get them to keep moving. “Get her out of there, take her to the bed, get her dressed and finish up,” he snapped, hoisting himself up from his position in the chair and herding them to the back of the tent as they dried off his guest. In a mix of eagerness to see her attacker and a bit of desire to humor her earlier request that he not watch he turned away from them, only glancing back once to make sure they’d dressed her before calling out to the people outside. Off the table he grabbed a fairly large knife, clenching the handle tightly in his grip while they brought in his newest visitor. This one seemed to be struggling more than the other, he’d expected him to be a better sport.

At the sight of Ramsay Bolton in the flesh Ivar couldn’t help but sneer, he’d seen the man fighting, spotted him across the field before he’d retreated to the castle. In comparison to the beginning of his day he looked as though he were from a different life— blood matted his hair to the sides of his head, an eye had swollen shut and he’d been stripped to almost nothing; no sword to save him, no armor to protect him, no tunic to cover him. He had been tough, but not smart enough to get away and Ivar intended to make him regret all the wrong decisions he’d made.

“Put him on the ground, I want to see his back,” the king instructed and the two men that had brought him flattened him to the ground. One held his hands while the other held his feet, the prisoner cursing to himself as he refused to look at any of them. With another glance over his shoulder at Sansa and the thrall’s he turned back to Ramsay, tossing the crutch aside and using the table to lower himself to the ground, knife still firmly in hand as he focused back on the task at hand. On his stomach Ivar crawled the distance between himself and Ramsay, bringing himself face to face with the so-called Lord as the girls stopped their braiding to watch him. A wicked smile twisted his lips as he poked at the man's swollen face with the sharp tip of his knife, barely eliciting a squeal from him. “This is on behalf of the Lady,” he told the room, the tip of the knife poking a cheek once more, drawing a fat dab of blood this time as the two men locked eyes. With his free hand he grasped a handful of the offending man's hair, turning his head and pressing a cheek against the ground so he had no choice but to look at Sansa in the bed. One of the thrall’s was trying not to watch, fingers working quickly as she began to braid back the bulk of Sansa’s fine hair, but even she couldn’t help but peek.

Sansa was crying again, though even she wasn’t sure as to why. Her face was numb, brain simultaneously overwhelmed with emotions and void of them as she tried to decide how she felt. Ramsay had been no prize-- the time leading up to their marriage had been just as bad if not worse… and of course he deserved to die. Or whatever it was that was happening before her, but who was this King? It was enough to assume they were the Vikings she’d heard about, there’d been plenty of shouting about it when they’d arrived... but why take care of her? All the men in her life so far had used her for something, hadn’t they? He’d be expecting something in return, she knew that much. The idea alone made her tremble and in return a thrall draped her in furs as they all watched the display, mistaking her fear for a chill.

On the ground Ivar had moved his body away from the man’s face, making sure he had a clear view of the girls in the bed as he set to work. From the base of his neck to the far edge of each shoulder he drug the blade down and across the man’s back, a thick line of blood bubbling up from each sect of split skin as the knife punctured it. Then, from the same starting point as the others, he carved out a line right along the spine to form a large Teiwaz rune. It seemed only fitting, all things considered.  

Silent for the most part since he’d been brought into the tent Ramsay was trying to restrain himself, but there’d be no fooling his captors. Despite his already battered appearance his one almost good eye had squeezed tightly shut and he was clenching his jaw so hard it was turning the unbruised parts of his pale face a deep shade of crimson. When he wasn’t holding it he was sucking in shaky breaths, body and limbs rattling with effort. Ivar had expected a bit more dramatics from him, he found men that consistently chose women as their victims were never quite as tough as they seemed. Reaching to the man’s face he pried the good eye open and miraculously it stayed while the other seemed to leak an endless stream of bloody tears.

Unsatisfied with the reaction he was getting the king stuck the tip of the knife into the man’s side, giving it a sharp twist as he did so to draw the perfect squeal out of his victim. One of the girls on the bed— he wasn't sure which— sucked in a sharp breath, another stifled a shriek. Their reactions seemed to snap something in the man beneath his blade and he struggled against the men restraining him despite their superior size and strength, cursing at them as he did so.

That was more like it…

-

Once Ivar had his fill— long after there was no more usable canvas left—  he’d had the man taken away. While there wasn’t much left of Ramsay, there’d be less before the night was over as his wounds steadily leaked blood. He’d sent the two men away with explicit instructions on what came next for his work of art. They wouldn’t outright kill him just yet, suffering seemed appropriate, should he make it to the morning they would kill him and do something to set him on display for whoever came upon the castle next. Deciding just what would be the difficult part. For now they would keep an eye on him, try to keep him awake and miserable if they could.  

With just himself and the girls left in the tent he turned to them from his spot on the floor, bloody knife still tight in his grip. “One of you come here, clean me up,” he ordered, dragging himself back to the chair at the table. After he was seated he wiped the blade on his sleeve and tossed it onto the table, looking at the remaining girls on the bed but never breaking focus from Sansa’s horrified expression he sighed, his own expression neutral. While he’d gotten carried away, that hadn’t been quite the reaction he’d hoped to get from her. He finally looked away as the thrall set a large bowl of water on the table and helped him strip his top layers away. After draping the clothing across another chair she began to wipe down his bloodied face as he rinsed his hands and arms before leaning forward in the chair so she could move on to his neck and decorated shoulders.  

Being exposed to brutality was not new for Sansa, certainly. If the man only knew the extent of what she’d seen and endured maybe they would better understand each other, but she wasn’t sure she could share those details with him- or anyone. Not yet. Instead she watched from the current safety of the bed as he was tended to, enjoying the change of roles for a brief moment before the nervousness set in. The girls had finished up on her hair but the two he hadn’t summoned remained on the bed with her, smoothing out the baby hairs along her crown and adjusting the soft dress they’d found for her. It had come out of a chest taken from the first Earl’s home, something they’d taken out of one of the ladie’s rooms that had been left behind. It was soft, colored a deep purple and would only be suitable for the night. In the morning they would have to bring her a new one and find her a cloak if she stood any chance of holding up against the wind on the water when they set sail. It had been refreshing to be in something other than what she had been, but she was unsure if it was a sign of what was to come or not.

Finally free of the blood and sweat that had coated his skin the thrall brought Ivar something to dry his face before clearing the mess away. Taking the crutch under his arm once more he rose from the chair, waving the remaining girls away from the bed as he made his way over and took a seat on the edge, back to Sansa as he laid down the crutch and began on the braces secured to his legs. One of the girls had lingered, moving towards him to offer help with the contraptions, but he shot her a dark look- she blew out all the candles but the one beside him and left the two alone instead.

With the others gone a silence fell over the room, the only sounds filling it the quiet grunts escaping Ivar as he worked the braces off. The day had been easy enough, the pain no better and no worse than usual, and he silently thanked The Gods for that. He was still unsure why he’d brought the girl back with him, why he intended to take her back to Kattegat, but he felt as though they knew something about it as well and thanked them for her too. There were other places she could have stayed, with the thrall’s or in a tent of her own even, but something told him she wouldn’t be safe. Her status and state when they found her marked her as an easy target, he knew that. He knew better than that. If anything were to happen to her he would feel obligated now, having taken her out of one situation to bring her into a worse one.

Braces discarded to the side he let out a heavy sigh, happy to be out of them despite the sense of normalcy they brought him on a daily basis. It had been easy enough to get out of them that night, The Gods must have been listening to him. Though while he wasn’t expecting anything out of their night together, Sansa seemed to be convinced he did as she scooted herself to the far edge of the bed. With his pants still on he folded back the furs covering his side of the bed and lifted his legs in, one by one, before laying the furs over them and settling back against the pillows. Patting the spot next to him he cleared his throat, “It is okay…” he whispered, “you are safe. He can not hurt you anymore,” he had made sure of that.  

Sansa had flinched at his words, but looked over at him nonetheless. “What will you do with him?” The question was quiet, murmured down at the bed as she couldn’t bring herself to look her apparent savior in the eyes just yet.

Raising a questioning brow at her he patted the spot again before holding out a hand to her, waiting for her to take it and come closer to him before answering her question. He folded back a few of the furs for her to climb underneath, making sure to keep his own legs carefully swaddled. She took his hand, closing the space between them before pulling her hand back to her lap. While she let him cover her she stayed upright, not sitting back against the pillows just yet. When she finally met his eyes he began to speak, “We will put his head on a spike, left out front for the next men to find. To let them know what happened there. It is almost what he deserves…” though simultaneously too good for him at the same time. What he had done to her was uncalled for, no matter the imagined crime he was sure the man had justified it with- because certainly there had to be a reason for something so cruel. The silence was back, Sansa had broken their eye contact and focused on the fur in her lap, fingers running through it for a moment. Finally looking up at him she sighed, steeling herself and setting her face to keep the tears that threatened to spill again from coming out, “You should feed him to his dogs,” she told him, voice cracking as she settled back against the pillows beside him and leaning into his chest. Ivar wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer as she tucked into the nook that was formed. “That’s what he deserves,” she muttered, turning her face into his shoulder as the tears broke though.

He settled his cheek against the top of her head and sighed, eyes slipping close in the comfort of the moment. This is all he had really wanted out of the night, the closeness. Of all people he understood her desire to not be seen, the feelings of being disfigured, and for that he wanted to protect her.

“Then that’s what he’ll get…”

Fin.      

[incorrectdeceptionquotes]

A Bundle of Secrets (Rewritten)

Chapter 1

The sound of feet against pavement echoed through the dark as a young woman rushed into an abandoned building, carrying a bundle of blankets in her arms.  

She forced open a secret panel in one of the walls, carefully tucking the bundle inside with a teary smile and a kiss before closing the wall back up, leaving the slightest crack open. She hurried back to the entrance, looking frantically at her surroundings as she unlocked her phone. 

“Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?”

“Please, you have to send help!”         

“Ma’am, what’s wrong, is everything okay?”

She could barely breathe as she heard the faint click of polished shoes getting closer and closer.

“I can't, just--when you get here, make sure you search this place top to bottom.” 

The operator grew concerned at this. “Where are you right now?” 

“It’s not safe here, get her somewhere safe!" There wasn't any time to explain, they would find her any second now. "Please. It’s too late for me.”

“What’s too late? Ma’am?”

A shot rang out and all that was heard was a choked whisper. “Please take care of her...”

“Take care of whom? Who’s there? Ma’am, I need you to tell me--” 

There was another sudden shot, but this time the bullet went through the young woman’s forehead. She crumpled onto the floor, dark curly hair feathering out around her. 

“Ma’am, are you still there? Ma’am-”

An expensive-looking shoe kicked the phone out of the dead woman’s hands, cutting off the call for good and then nothing. Only a shadow hovering over the body and a blank stare in the woman's lifeless blue eyes.

(~**~)              (~**~)              (~**~)              (~**~)

“And that is how you pull it off.” Cameron waved his hands with a flourish as he and Kay pulled up to the crime scene. “Honestly, it’s a piece of cake once you get over a fear of fire.”

Kay stifled a smile as she rolled his eyes at his childishness. “You know Cam, sometimes I think you value pulling off a stunt more than you do about your own safety.” 

It wasn't bad though. He wasn't quite back to his usual carefree self, but he looked lighter, his smiles quick to come and more genuine than before.

“Well, it’s worth it if it works, right? Though Johnny always thought that one was stupid.” 

Kay was quick to notice how his eyes clouded over, his smile slowly fading as he mentioned his brother. 

“How’s he doing?" She was hesitant to broach the topic. "I mean have you… have you heard from him at all?”

“No,” Cameron sighed heavily, “And quite frankly, I don’t want to even wanna think about him right now. He’s clearly not.”

Kay put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I get that you’re upset with him and you have every right to be. But he’s still your brother.”

His hand covered hers as he gave a weary smile. “I know, I know, it's just--I’m just not ready to see him and... I’m tired of looking for him. Thankfully he doesn’t need something from me. Not yet, at least.”

“Well, whatever you might need, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks Kay.” 

The abandoned warehouse was already filled with police officers when they entered. 

“So this is where the 911 call came from huh?” Cameron only saw bleak stone and crumbling concrete no matter where he looked. “There’s probably all sorts of hidden secrets about this place. Being an abandoned building and all.”

“It actually used to be an old group home for foster kids, but it closed down a few years ago for safety issues and the group was relocated elsewhere," Kay elaborated as they headed towards Mike, who was standing over the victim. "The operator said she has no idea who our victim is; all she could tell us was that she sounded like a young woman who was desperate for help.” 

“Hey Mike, so who’s our victim?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have an ID yet and it seems she came running here with not much on her,” Mike replied. “But she was clearly running from something.”

“Whatever she was trying to escape from obviously found her,” Kay added as she looked at the woman’s wide unblinking eyes. Poor girl, she thought, feeling that something seemed oddly familiar about those eyes. 

“Judging from her clothes, it doesn’t seem like she was planning on running,” Cameron observed, noting the cool autumn breeze and the fact that the victim was wearing a thin sweater with a light summery skirt, “Maybe she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Got mistaken for someone else...” 

Cameron trailed off. It was faint, but he thought he heard something. Something a little farther into the building. He couldn't tell what it was just yet… 

“Maybe. Mike, was there any other information that the operator gave about our victim?” Kay asked as Cameron wandered off.

“Oh yeah. They mentioned how our vic went on about making sure that whoever was chasing her did not get to her.” Mike explained.

“Who's her?” Kay frowned in confusion. “If we can figure that out, maybe we can find out who our victim is.”

Meanwhile, Cameron was searching the building, he was sure the sound was coming from this direction. He happened upon the wall and noticed a tiny crack where it should be. What he saw when he pushed it open shocked him. 

“Uh, guys?” Cameron yelled from where he was.

“What is it, Cam?” Kay called back.

“Look, I know I’m not supposed to touch anything before you guys have finished a complete search of the premises...” He said in a rush as he hurried back to them, carrying that same bundle of blankets that the woman had held just a few short hours ago. “But I don’t think this can wait.”

“Cam, what on earth could you have possibly--” 

Kay met him halfway, wondering what was going on when she went speechless at the sight. Peeking out from the bundle in Cameron’s arms, wide awake was a bright eyed, curious baby. The little girl was probably only a year old at most with very pale skin, big brown eyes that seemed to smile at everyone, and the same dark curls as their victim. 

Cameron grinned, oddly cheeky and sheepish at the same time. “I think you can understand why I thought it couldn’t wait.”

(~**~)              (~**~)              (~**~)              (~**~)

“So you found the baby in the same building as our victim?” Deakins was as stern and sharp as ever as Kay and Mike watched Cameron entertain the little girl, making silly faces as he bounced her on his knees.

“Yes, due to the timing and that she bears some resemblance to our victim, we think it’s reasonable to believe that she might be related to our Jane Doe,” Kay explained.

“Any idea on who our Jane Doe is?”

“We’re still working on it," Mike replied, "We should be finding out soon.”

“Alright, keep me posted.” Deakins walked away, her face softening with a quick flick of a smile as she took one last look at Cameron and the baby.

“I’ll go see if we have an ID yet,” Mike said to Kay as he motioned his head towards Cameron, amused at the sight.

Kay rolled her eyes before sitting next to Cameron and the baby. “You two seem to be getting along.”

“Babies are so fun to entertain, everything you do is like a magic trick to them, watch this!” 

Cameron covered his face before then quickly pulling his hand down and went, “Peek-a-boo!” 

The little girl burst out laughing. It was so infectious that Kay and Cameron couldn't help but join her. 

Kay's smile only grew. “I see what you mean.”

All of a sudden, the baby pointed at Kay, gurgling and smiling as she reached out her arms to the agent. 

“I think the little lady wants you to hold her, Kay.”

“Oh…" An unsure expression spread over her face, "I don’t know, I’m not really--”

Cameron held up the baby in front of his face and spoke in a high-pitched voice, “Please Kay, I want a hug and Mr Cameron is starting to run out of ideas to entertain me!” 

Kay snorted, rolling her eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day and gently took the little girl from Cameron. The baby just cooed and stared up at her with bright, innocent eyes. There was something about her that just seemed so familiar, yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. 

“She likes you.” Cameron's voice broke through Kay’s thoughts.

“What?”

“I tried giving her to Mike earlier and she almost burst into tears,” he chuckled.

“Really?” 

Kay laughed as she settled the baby in her lap, a hand supporting the little girl’s back. That had to have been a blow to Mike's ego, seeing how he often bragged about how good he was with children. She looked up just in time to see Cameron smiling at her. 

He was always smiling, but this one was slow and subtle, harder for her to read.

“What?”

“Nothing, just never really pictured you with a baby.” 

Kay raised an eyebrow at that. 

“N-not that I picture you in any way, shape, or form," He backtracked with a flustered look on his face, "Not that I mean anything by that, what I meant was--” 

He abruptly leaned down to face the baby. “Can you help me out here, kid?” The baby just grabbed his nose and laughed. “Yeah, real helpful.”

“Hey guys," Mike walked in at that moment, "we finally found--why is the baby holding Cam’s nose?”

“He tried to ask her for advice,” Kay grinned before she turned back to Mike, “So any news?”

“We found an ID and…" Mike shook his head briefly, "Let's just say I’m glad you guys are sitting down.”

Kay frowned, “Why? What is it?”

“Well, our victim’s name is Fiona Jonbroni, twenty-six years old, was placed in the foster care system when she was four after her mother died in a car accident.”

Cameron grimaced, “Poor girl, I’ve heard the system’s rough.”  

“It can be.” Mike sighed, “She bounced around foster homes until she was eighteen, found a job where she met a Shawn Blanc and they were married three years ago.”

“What happened to him?” Kay grew concerned, instinctively holding the child closer without realizing it.

“I just sent a team to their apartment to see if he’s there.”

Cameron looked at the innocent little girl. “So there’s a chance that she’s still got a parent out there?”

“That’s what we’re hoping for.”

“Do we have the kid’s name? I mean, we can’t keep calling her Little Lady or Kid.”

“It says here that her name is Farrah Blanc, with two Rs.”

Cameron smiled at the little girl before taking her back from Kay. 

“So, your name is Farrah, huh? Well, it makes sense. You’re like the fairest of them all.” He joked, noting that the girl’s pale skin and apple red cheeks could give Snow White a run for her money.

Kay shot Cameron an unamused look. “Cam, come on, you know how I feel about puns.”

Cameron simply grinned. “It’s after nine, Kay, I think I'm safe.”

“Wait,” Suddenly Kay was confused, "You said you were glad we were sitting. What's going on, Mike?”

“Well, Fiona’s birth certificate listed her mother as Violet Jonbroni and...” He hesitated, clearly reluctant to keep going. 

“And her father?” Cameron prodded.

“And... the father listed here is someone you might recognize." Mike's face grew grim. "Sebastian Black.”

Cameron’s eyes suddenly went wide with shock. “W-wait,” He let out a nervous chuckle. “A-are you saying that our victim was my father’s daughter? But that’s imposs--that would mean...”

“Cameron…" Mike's throat went dry; he could barely say the rest. 

"I think our victim was your sister."

No, you are not experiencing déjà vu, this is the same ‘A Bundle of Secrets’ I wrote over a year ago... however as I have been writing the sequel and rereading it... ‘A Bundle of Secrets’ was my first real fanfic I took seriously and it sorely needed improving.

I hope that you had enjoyed the original version but with the help of my good friend @s4karuna, we have revamped ‘A Bundle of Secrets’ into a smoother and more enjoyable read.

I want this story to be the best it can be and I am grateful to my friend for helping me rewrite it... this is gonna be fun, you guys are gonna see a lot of additional/deleted scenes!

[whattheklance]

Wecavod 4

wecavod= “What Else Could a Virgin Omega Do?”

So this is probably the most chaotic of chunks of information from my original notes.

I have the original timeline that I was never sure about and glad changed to what realfakedoors and me came up with, but here’s what was floating around in my notes long before that.

There’s also some chunks of dialogue related to some of the bullet points, or some summaries of scenes and scenarios. It’s all kind of a jumble, but if you’d like to read it, here it is.

Original “Timeline”

Lance decides to try speed dating. mixture of bored and creeped out interactions (this happening only after he tried and failed to see keith again cuz keith is popular)

Keith learns Lance speed dating news from a coworker (see a brief dialogue thing I have below this list)

Possibly keith at work more?? ruing his new popularity. or maybe a keith dream about lance? (this one might not be necessary at all. just an idea if more angst is needed or to build suspense)

Lance assertive flirting at a club leads to being stalked by a scary alpha.

Keith enraged at finding out about lance’s plight from coworker

Lance catches Keith talking w/ shiro but can't hear anything. Makes a lot of assumptions

Keith & shiro? + matt conversation?? Maybe Keith is talking to them about lance? Maybe he's keeping everything about lance to himself but is spitballing ideas of changing his "career path"

matt/shiro wedding. lance and keith were invited separately. possibly use this location & event for confession of feelings, but with a lot of awkward and shy stuff leading up to it.

if the wedding is where they get together then next would be the hottest steamiest night between them afterward. a long time coming (pun intended). cuz they know they love each other. Or possible deliberately postpone this and give them some absurdly innocent and/or awkward interactions before they finally have their first night "together."

(END OF TIMELINE)

SMALL BITS OF WRITTEN DIALOGUE

/////////////////////////////

Keith is told by a coworker that they saw Lance at speed dating.

Keith: "What are YOU doing dating?" (author's note: as employees at the brothel it's in their contract that they can't be casual dating for health/safety reasons.)

Coworker: "Moral support"

yaddayaddayaddda. They talk some more. Keith doesn't care about small talk. He's in his own head until...

Coworker: "I could still smell you on him."

Keith felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He couldn't breath. Lingering scent post-knotting was normal for a few days. But it'd been over a month. His heart tightened as his brain struggled to assign meaning to that new piece of information.

Confusion.

Keith's hopes are up but he still dares not believe.

////////////////////////////////////

The "Stalking" idea

Lance tries to be "loose" in reaction to his extreme attachment to Keith, and decides to respond to getting hit on at a club to get a date or one night stand.

maybe lance was starting to smell "in heat" even before he feels it so the alpha gets aggressive. Follows Lance out of the club, harassing him.

Not wanting to lead the guy home he took a detour. unsure of what to do or where he was going. He ended up walking by the brothel's entrance

TWO IDEAS about this scene -lance could seek asylum there to escape his stalker OR -2 or 3 alphas inside the brothel could hear/smell what was going on outside and they come out to intervene. Lance asks them about Keith and they tell him just that–he's booked.

Dialogue after Lance is long gone and Keith is between clients

Keith: "Why do you smell like him???"

Guy (rolo?): "Who?"

K: "You know DAMN WELL who. Everybody does."

G: "Chill, man. He was only here for a bit."

Keith's mind raced. a glimpse of hope. Was Lance scheduling a new appointment? Had he stopped by to try to see Keith?

G: "(continued) An Alpha was stalking him so we helped him out. Poor dude didn't know we could already smell the preheat on him."

Lance had been in fucking danger and Keith wasn't the one to help him. He didn't even know. Damn, he would've settled with just being in the same room with him even if it meant seeing him if only for a second. He never hated his life before, but that was the only way to describe this sickening feeling.

Keith hated that lance was HERE and he didn't get to see him. He hated that he couldn't be the one to help him, protect him. More than all that he hated himself that he was in here...doing his job, fucking another nobody.

G: "You need to get your Alpha-self in order. You can't go claiming or dibs on clients. Who says he even wants to see you again?"

hearing someone tell him the precise words keith feared the most sent him almost feral, shoving his coworker so hard he hit the tile and slide across it.

/////////////////////////////

Lance catching Shiro and Keith talking together somewhere

possibly have lance catch the two of them from a distance and be able to suspect that they had a history

Seeing familiar signs from Keith with the added pain that Shiro could touch him nonchalantly and Keith not only didn't flinch, he seemed comforted.

Between that and a certain fondness in Shiro eyes that's similar to the way he looks at Matt

Lance gets juvenile ideas about "omg does Matt know?? Only to see Matt join them later and nothing about either Shiro or Keith's body language changes

They weren't hiding anything from matt. He'd have been shocked if Shiro had, but of course that guy was true.

Whatever Shiro and Keith were talking about Matt was in the know. Both were equally contributing to the conversation with Keith

Why did his mind immediately jump to intimate things between them?? They're both alphas. But thinking on it lance realized that Shiro had an alpha girlfriend in high school and as far as he knew it, the only people before Matt that Shiro had ever been with had been alphas.

Course he never knew anything about Shiro's sex life, even though high school him would've given his right arm to learn even one detail.

(Possible) Keith side of the same scene (or maybe just some in general characterization to include throughout)

Keith depression? He has a contract with the brothel and has never worked anywhere else. He dropped out of school so he doesn't even have a diploma.

He can't even think about going after Lance until sex isn't his job. It has to be Lance and no one else. He wouldn't be able to stand seeing Lance's face if he had to go to work.

Shiro and Matt offered advice in regards to what he could do if/when he got out

But he didn't want to risk his good livelihood cuz he doesn't even know if lance would accept him. He doesn't want to pursue lance while this is his job, but he doesn't want to sacrifice his job without knowing if he has a chance with lance. what to do.

If the above scene happens before the wedding: Lance having already had the surprise seeing them together, and learning keith and shiro know each other. At the wedding Keith initiates conversation cuz he has no idea that Lance knows Shiro. Lance wants to damn well know the answer after seeing them together.

/////////////////////////////

Shiro/Matt wedding: the first klance interaction since...Lance’s heat

Lance goes stag, and is hyperaware that most people have a date or at least a 'plus one.' The last thing he ever would've expected was to encounter KEITH.

"How do you know Shiro" conversation

upon being face to face for the first time in a WHILE this is the first thing out of both their mouths

Keith: (conversationally) "So, how do you know Shiro?"

Lance: (sputtering indignantly) "How do I know Shiro? I grew up with him. How do YOU know Shiro???"

Keith hesitated with his drink at his lips, searching for a 'way' to word it.

Keith: (slowly) "Well~I guess you could say we worked together." Regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.

Lance: Lance stared slack-jawed. "No––No way." shock/stunned, mouth hanging open

Keith: "No-no-no-no. Not like that. I didn't mean––"

Lance took a deep breath and relaxed again.

Well Keith kind of did mean it, but Lance didn't need to know that, especially if they're childhood friends.

Keith massaged the truth a bit, it wasn't his place to tell Lance about something Shiro hadn't. It was Shiro's business.

From Keith's brief acquaintance with Shiro, it was a little eerie that he already had a connection to Lance from the year he was old enough to take his job. He was 18 and a new employee at the brothel, having dropped out of school. Not long after, an older guy joined up too. The notorious virgin Alpha hired only getting hired because of how fucking hot he was.

That'd be story for a different day...what was he thinking?? Like he'd get to see Lance enough to eventually tell him about that? He was constantly catching himself acting like they were already "in" a relationship.

**LATER**

Lance: (watching Matt with Shiro in their slow dance, eyes staring at Matt's suit collar that had to be hiding a mark Shiro made long before this day. It gave him chills thinking about it.) "I wonder what it feels like to be mated, claimed."

Keith almost choked on his drink when Lance suddenly said that introspectively. His heart raced. His body tensed. Was Lance addressing him or just talking to himself out loud??

KLANCE DANCING (at least one 'slow dance')––I want this to be important

So possibly have a wedding dance between them where the vibes Keith gets from lance give him the courage to take a chance.???????

Holding lance close cheek to cheek, chests pressed together arms wrapped around each other, hands pressed into backs. Whenever they spoke they looked each other in the eye, noses almost touching.

Both felt drunk on the others scent, fighting a strong urge to just close the distance for a kiss. They both wanted that taste again.

maybe they kiss? and it gets heated but their brains get in the way? OR they ALMOST kiss but one of them pulls away.

////////////////////////////

FUTURE . after angst and miscommunication

would KEITH "confess first??" maybe? but expect no reciprocation when he does.

the line below is text FROM A FANART by artisttothebone

Lance: "I love your eyes, your hair, your smile, I love YOU Keith"

maybe make it something like...

Lance: "I love the warmth of your arms around me, the sound of your breathing, the feel of your laugh when I touch your chest. Every time I have to leave your side I die a little inside because I never want to be apart from you. I love YOU, Keith. You."

Keith: "Lance–"

/////////////////////////////

POST CLIMAX (they've been a together for a while)

Keith job situation. Decides to get his GED to eventually pursue psychology and language studies.

Insert jokes from Lance about having a high school boyfriend, and it implying some huge age gap, or that he's robbing the cradle etc.

Keith saying: "you KNOW, I'm actually OLDER than you"

And

"Its not high school, it's high school equivalent"

Lance knows all that he just loves how easy it is to rile Keith up, being so flappable. Lance always showers his love afterward

[stopforamoment]

Part Fifteen: Protecting His Family (Series 26, Part 15 of 16)

Series Twenty-Six: Meeting the Desrosiers (Sixteen Parts) My masterlist is at the end of my bio.

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 1,248   Rating: M for Language, Triggers for Parent/Child Dysfunctional Relationships

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh. Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3​​ and @bobasheebaby​​  for always being my sounding board! Thank you @silviasutton1989​​ ​ @riseandshinelittleblossom​​​ @tornbetween2loves​​ @sirbeepsalot​​ @innerpostmentality​​ @kennaxval​​ @strangerofbraidwood @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @begging-for-kamilah @teamtomsato @jovialyouthmusic​​ for still being a part of the journey!

Series Summary: Rinda’s parents come to visit for a week to meet Bastien and spend Thanksgiving with them, and poor Bastien has to run interference for his Tria when her mother is a passive aggressive bitch.

Chapter Summary: Bastien makes a promise to Rinda’s parents, but they have to promise something in return.

Part Fifteen: Protecting His Family

Mrs. Desrosiers began to cry and Bastien automatically reached into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief. Not the one with the constellations—that handkerchief was for Rinda only. He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to Rinda’s mother, but he didn’t say anything, refusing to be manipulated by her.

She dabbed her eyes as she sniffled a little. Bastien thought about how different Rinda was from her mother. His dearest Tria was an ugly crier—she felt things so deeply because she cared so much. But Rinda’s mother was selfish and manipulative.

“Otto, why don’t you ever hand me a handkerchief?”

Otto’s eyes flicked to his wife, and Bastien saw the guilt and regret. But his response was laced with sarcasm. “There aren’t enough handkerchiefs in the world for all the times you cry over nothing.”

Bastien discreetly cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll let you two talk while I help Rinda.”

“You’re really going to keep Henry and Rinda from me, aren’t you?”

Bastien stayed standing. “Mrs. Desrosiers, I’m not keeping them from you. We will come visit, and you are welcome to visit us.”

Jane shook her head and tried a different approach with Otto. “I can’t believe our daughter is staying here for a man. Uprooting my grandson, ignoring my feelings.”

“Jane, stop!”

Bastien shook his head. “It’s fine, Mr. Desrosiers. I’ve wanted the chance to talk with both of you and state my intentions toward Rinda.” He sat back down. “Yes, Rinda and Henry are staying in Cordonia with me. But I’m not forcing them. Rinda has a promising career here, and Henry has new friends. If that would ever change, we would decide as a family if we wanted to move to the United States or somewhere else.”

He looked at Rinda’s father. “My new career is less dangerous, and I won’t be traveling as much. No one can make promises about life and death, but I do promise that Rinda and Henry are my priority now. I swore an oath that I will always protect my King and Queen, but I am no longer King Liam’s personal guard. Rinda won’t be living in constant fear, worrying about my safety. We worked together to change my will and create a prenuptial agreement, so she and Henry are legally and financially protected no matter what.

“If anything would happen to me, you’ve met the people who are part of Rinda’s life now. If something would happen to me and Rinda, Drake and Laura would take care of Henry at first so he could keep as much of his normal routine in Valtoria as possible. Then when he was ready to decide, he could stay with them, or he would live with my brother and sister. However, we also kept the conditions in the original will that Jameson and Rinda created. If he wanted to move back to the United States he would live with Rinda’s cousin and husband. Drake and Laura would be the ones to fly back with him and stay until he got settled in with Rinda’s cousin and husband. We’ve talked through all of this with Henry, and with all of the people involved. Because Henry knows what it’s like to lose a parent, we knew it was important to explain all of this to him and to be sure he had a say in what would happen to him.”

Otto continued to stare at Bastien, not saying anything. He was impressed that Bastien and Rinda already had so much commitment in their relationship, yet he wasn’t surprised.

Bastien looked at Rinda’s mother. “I’m going to marry Rinda. I already have Henry’s permission, but Rinda wants to wait until the two-year anniversary of Jameson’s death has passed. You know that everyone’s goal was for her to take off her wedding ring on the two-year anniversary, and she was dreading that day so much.” Bastien shook his head and there was so much sadness, yet pride, in his voice. “It has been such an emotional journey for her to take off Jameson’s ring. She’s earned that milestone, and I will never rush her. I love her too much, and whether I’m her boyfriend, fiancée, or husband, I’m not going anywhere.”

Otto nodded and he took Jane’s hand. “I know our marriage looks like a mess, and we haven’t always been the best parents to Rinda. She did love Jameson so much. I know you know that. And we truly didn’t think she could ever marry again because she was so broken.” Rinda’s dad stared at Bastien, and Bastien calmly took her father’s appraisal, grey eyes unblinking as he patiently waited for her dad to continue. “I’m glad that Rinda found you. You’re a good man, and it would be an honor for you to join our family. That is, if you think you can handle dealing with us.”

Bastien smiled. “As long as we have an understanding that Rinda and Henry are my top priority, and you understand that I will always protect them. Even if it’s from you.”

Bastien was silent after saying this, and Otto nodded. “Yes, I understand.” He turned to Jane. “Jane?”

She didn’t say anything, but she was breathing rapidly.

“Mrs. Desrosiers?” She gave Bastien a vacant stare. “Rinda told me about your parents. I’m not telling you that I understand what you went through. But I am telling you that I grew up in an abusive home, and I know the hell I went through as a child. I promise that I will be patient with you and I promise that I will keep Rinda and Henry in your lives. But you have to make a promise to me, too. You have to promise to stop hurting them. Whatever you are going through, you have to stop taking it out on Rinda and you have to stop using Henry against her. If you can’t promise that, I won’t keep my promises to you.”

There was a long silence before Otto spoke. “Jane?”

She nodded.

“Jane, you have to say it. I need to hear you say it to Bastien.”

She looked at Bastien, and he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. “I’ll try.”

Bastien shook his head. That wasn’t enough.

“I promise that I’ll try.”

“Thank you. You know that we’re coming to Wisconsin for Christmas, and if you would like, we can schedule another visit for both of you before you leave.” Jane nodded, processing everything that Bastien was saying. Bastien paused, unsure if his next works would help or make it worse.

“Rinda and I have ties in Cordonia and Wisconsin. When we plan our wedding, we will be respectful of that, even if that means we have two ceremonies. And I promise that you will be present at both.”

Jane perked up at those words. “Otto, we’ll have another wedding! Oh, Bastien. I’m so excited you’ll be part of our family. You’re going to be my son-in-law!” Bastien flinched, unsure of where this was going. “That means you can call me mom. And Otto, Bastien has to call you dad. That’s what Jameson called you, and we want Bastien to know how much we love him.”

Otto steepled his fingers and rested his forehead against the tips of his index fingers, but Bastien shook his head to let him know it was okay. “Thank you, Mrs. Desrosiers. I’ll keep that in mind as we get to know each other better.”

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

My Eyes - Part 9

Pairing: Bucky; Steve x Fem/Reader

Word Count: 4,985

Story Description: Steve is a good man, America’s golden boy, a hero. He’s Captain America for christ’s sake! So it’s normal to want what he has… right? Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t even deserve the second chance at life he’s been given. But Bucky can never let him know. Steve can never find out that his friend is in love with his best girl.

Story takes place post “CA: CW” and all tension has been resolved.

Previously On...

The team didn’t say anything the entire ride. Wanda, Natasha, and Bucky were in one jet; Tony, Clint, and Sam were in another.  They all wondered what kind of monster would ever lay a hand on Y/N, let alone any woman. Bucky was seething. If anyone asked him a question, he’d answer in a short growl.

They didn’t even bother landing the jet in the usual clearing within the woods. They were barely yards away from the house when Bucky ripped off his seatbelt and slammed the ramp down.

Natasha was brave enough to grab him by the arm, stopping him.

His eyes glared at her grip like he was about to rip Natasha’s hand off her body.

“Bucky, you can’t just rush in like this.” She stated calmly. “Just… wait for a little bit. Let Wanda and I talk to her first, okay?”

That seemed to make him see reason. Bucky realized that he was still a man. On the surface, he looked just like Brian. Except he would never touch a woman in anger like he did. Nevertheless Y/N was in a vulnerable state. She’d already be upset that almost the entire team came to intervene in her personal life.

“Bucky?” Nat asked gently. “She’s going to deny anything’s going on. Then she’s going to be embarrassed. And…she’s going to blame herself.”

“Right…” Bucky nodded steadily. This wasn’t about him getting vengeance on the man. He needed to make sure Y/N was okay first, that she was safe.

Natasha looked at the rest of the group and gave them a nod, asking if they were ready. They nodded back.

Brian’s car wasn’t there, so he wasn’t currently at the house. He must have done his damage and then fled.

Natasha walked out onto of the platform first.

Wanda grabbed Bucky’s hand for a second and shared a look. “Everything’s going to be okay. We’re all here now.” She tried to give him words of comfort.

He managed to nod his head.

Natasha was almost at the house when Jimmy came sprinting out the front door. He flew past Nat and went right for the super soldier. Bucky caught him in his arms and his embrace lifted the boy off the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jimmy muttered into Bucky’s neck, crying.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, James.” Bucky sighed. “You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

“I’m the man of the house. I’m supposed to protect mom.” The boy nearly whimpered.

The whole team watched the interaction with dejection.

Bucky put the boy down but kneeled so they were eye level. “You’re just a kid, Jimmy. You’re safety is just as important as your mom’s. There was nothing you could do.”

But Jimmy was still looking down at the ground in shame. “She doesn’t know that I called you. Or that I saw it happen.” He mumbled.

Clint and Tony came walking over now.

“Hey, kid. Don’t we get any hugs?” Tony asked with his smirk.

Jimmy could barely bring himself to force a smile. But he slowly went over to the rest of the Avengers, besides Nat, and gave them feeble hugs. Afterward, Wanda went to the house too.

“Jimmy, what do you say you come with me and Tony back to my farm. Laura’s making quite the dinner and all the kids will be there.” Clint asked casually. His children were a lot older than Jimmy. But they loved seeing him. Since it was summer, Lila and Cooper were home from college.

“Why don’t we make it a sleepover?” Tony commented. “I need a vacation.” He added cheekily.

Jimmy looked back at the house.

“Don’t worry, Jimmy.” Bucky interrupted his thoughts. “I’ll be with your mom.”

The boy finally nodded. He turned back to Clint and Tony, allowing them to guide him back to one of the jets.

With Wanda and Nat in the house, this left Sam and Bucky alone in the front yard.

Sam crossed his arms. “You go ahead. I’ll be on the lookout.”

Bucky bowed his head and took in a deep breath before walking towards the house.

He entered to find the three women sitting in the living room. Porthos was sitting even closer to his master than usual. And even though it was Bucky, the dog growled threateningly at the man. The poor thing probably thought it had failed, letting harm come to Y/N.

As soon as Y/N met Bucky’s gaze, she shot up from the couch. “I can’t believe all of you are being this ridiculous! Nothing happened! I’m fine!” Porthos stayed attached to her hip.

Bucky took in her appearance then. She was wearing an overly baggy sweater and dark leggings. It was too warm for an outfit that didn’t show any skin. Then he caught sight of her face: she hid it all well. Y/N was clearly wearing more makeup than usual. It almost could have fooled them. But makeup couldn’t hide the gouge of a split lip. Bucky’s jaw clenched as he spotted it.

“Where’s Jimmy? I promised to take him out to dinner.” Y/N mumbled, finding an excuse to leave the room.

Bucky blocked her path. “Clint and Tony took him to the farm for a sleepover.”

Y/N couldn’t look him in the eye as he spoke gently to her.

Natasha saw this as her cue. “Y/N, why don’t we go upstairs and talk?”

Y/N looked unsure of the suggestion.

“We’re only here because we love you. You know that right?” Wanda added quietly.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I know.” She mumbled.

Nat went to her side and carefully guided her upstairs.

Wanda stayed behind for a moment. “Nat wants to get her to take a shower so we can see if he did enough damage for her to need to see a doctor.” She sighed.

“Maybe I should go back outside…” Bucky muttered. The girls were less threatening to Y/N.

But Wanda shook her head right away. “No, you don’t understand. The moment she saw you, her energy changed. You know her better than anyone. Just stay down here, we’ll come get you when she’s ready to really talk to someone.”

Bucky nodded and then Wanda scurried up the stairs.

Bucky felt helpless. His eyes looked around the room, desperately trying to find a distraction. He went to the kitchen to discover a bunch of dirty dishes in the sink. He started mindlessly cleaning them. When that was done, he picked up the living room. He tried not to keep track of the time.

Eventually the two girls came back downstairs.

Wanda looked traumatized, but Nat seemed to be able to control her expression more.

“It’s pretty bad, Buck. But she won’t need to see a doctor.” Nat spoke first. “I don’t think this is the first time it’s happened. There were other bruises on her body…they were more faded and clearly from awhile ago.”

Bucky clenched his fists and his teeth ground together.

“I think you should go talk to her.” Nat sighed.

“What has she said?” Bucky asked.

“Not much.” Nat admitted. “More than anything, she’s upset that Jimmy witnessed it. Of course she’s not concerned about herself.”

“We can stay here tonight. There’s fold out cots on the jet for us.” Wanda commented. “We’ll be outside with Sam if you need anything.”

Both girls gave him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder before they went outside.

Bucky took the stairs one at a time, buying himself time to prepare for what he was about to find in Y/N’s bedroom. It was the only room of the house that he’d never been in. There was never any reason for him to go inside.

Bucky knocked on the door and heard Porthos growling on the other side. He opened it to find Y/N sitting at the head of the bed with her arms wrapping her legs tightly to her chest. Porthos was sitting beside her with his teeth bared and still growling.

“Shh.” Y/N muttered to the dog.

Bucky felt like he was going to be sick when he took in her appearance. Now that all the makeup had been washed away, he could see the black eye Y/N had. Her split lip looked more swollen. She was wearing cotton shorts and a t-shirt that Bucky immediately recognized as Steve’s. Since his passing, Bucky had never seen Y/N in his clothes.

Y/N looked up at him through her wet hair.

Then her eyes started watering. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky couldn’t breathe. Of all the things she could say, her first is to apologize to him. But before he could tell her she had nothing to be sorry for, she continued.

“You know you really fucked up when the Avengers show up, unannounced, to give you an intervention.” She didn’t bother wiping her tears away. “It’s my own fault…Really speaks volumes about my taste in men.” She snorted mockingly.

“Y/N, stop.” Bucky finally cracked.

She ignored him. “He just drinks too much sometimes. Then I say the wrong thing. I should be able to calm him down. I’m an empath for fuck sake. But I always panic.” Then Y/N’s eyes looked distant. “I tried so hard to find someone that didn’t remind me of Steve that I ended up with someone that was the complete opposite.”

“None of this is your fault, Y/N.” He said the words slow and clear.

Y/N refused to believe him. “Why are you even here, Bucky?”

“Because your son called me.”

“You know what I mean.” She challenged darkly. Her eyes were glaring into him now.

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I don’t need you to protect me!” Y/N surprised both of them by yelling. “I am so sick of being your charity case! Steve is dead, Bucky! He’s fucking dead! It doesn’t matter that he asked you to watch over me! I release you from whatever fucked up obligation you have! Okay!? You don’t have to pretend to care about me anymore!”

“I was never pretending!” Bucky couldn’t help but bellow.

Y/N was breathing heavily, but he could tell by her face that she was not convinced.

‘Don’t do this now.’ Bucky thought. ‘She doesn’t need to hear this now. She’s already suffered enough… probably won’t even believe you anyway. She’ll think you’re just telling her something to make her feel better.’ They were still staring at each other when someone started banging on the front door.

Y/N jumped. Then her entire body tensed and her eyes filled with terror. The sound was too familiar. Bucky could practically hear her heart about to beat out of her chest.

“Y/N! Why is the door locked?” A man’s voice screamed and continued pounding. “Y/N!” It turned into a roar. “Y/N! I know you’re home! Open the god damn door!”

Y/N managed to get out of her head long enough to read Bucky’s expression. She shook her head. “Bucky, don’t. Please, don’t. Please.” The words spewed out of her mouth in desperation.

But it was her fear that set Bucky off. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

But the banging on the door ruined his attempt at peace. It was a miracle the pounding didn’t take the door off its hinges.

Bucky only saw red as he stomped down the stairs. Porthos sprinted ahead of him and growled menacingly at the front door.

In one swift movement, Bucky threw open the door and his flesh hand wrapped around the drunkard’s throat. Carrying him as if he weighed nothing, Bucky charged forward until he slammed Brian’s body on the hood of his car. The metal dented under the pressure.

“You’re…you’re the…” Brian managed to wheeze through the pressure around his throat.

“The Winter Soldier.” Bucky finished bleakly. His voice was quiet, but intimidating. It was more terrifying than any arrangement of yelling.

The attack seemed to sober the man up slightly.

“You are never coming back here.” Bucky stated evenly. “If you ever so much as touch Y/N again…”

“I didn’t touch her!” Brian cried out the lie in fear that he was already dead.

The slander only infuriated Bucky even more. His flesh hand tightened its grip around the man’s throat and his metal arm lifted, ready to smash Brian’s skull. But just as he was about to land the punch, Sam yelled out his name.

Bucky didn’t break eye contact with his victim as he hesitated. Then he lowered his metal fist and it slammed into the hood of the car, a mere centimeter away from Brian’s head. The man had closed his eyes in a wince.

Breathing heavily, Bucky glanced up to see Sam, Wanda, and Nat standing just meters away. Sam was giving him a warning stare. Wanda looked ready to use her powers to stop Bucky from killing the man. But Nat looked like she wanted to be doing the same thing as him.

Bucky’s eyes darkened as he looked back down at Brian. “You are going to move to the other side of the country. If we hear about you hurting someone ever again, you better run. Do you understand?”

Brian was paralyzed in fear.

Bucky lifted his head slightly and slammed it back down on the hood. “I said do you understand?”

“Yes! Yes! I understand!” Brian tried his best to speak through Bucky’s grip.

Bucky finally released him. “Get out of here.” He growled.

Brian tripped over his feet as he scrambled into the driver’s seat.

The four of them watched as he sped through the night and away from Y/N forever.

Sam walked to Bucky’s side. “You okay?” He asked with his arms crossed, watching the car disappear.

“He’s lucky you were here.” Bucky murmured ominously.

“Trust me. He’ll be running out of town by tomorrow morning.”

Bucky turned around to go back inside, but stopped in his tracks when he spotted Y/N in the doorway. She saw it all.  

Even after dating Steve for years, she had never seen him in action. He had never trained in front of her, never had been forced to attack anyone in her presence. But now she had seen The Winter Soldier almost kill someone, which was more frightening than ever witnessing Steve as Captain America.

Y/N watched him with an uneasiness… like he was a stranger.

Bucky’s heart broke when he read the fear in her eyes. Was he any better than the man he almost just killed?

Before he could explain himself, Y/N turned around and rushing back into the house.

Bucky swore under his breath.

“Hey…” Sam gripped his shoulder. “You have to go talk to her.”

“Did you not just see what happened? She’s terrified of me!” Bucky snapped.

“She needs you Bucky.” Nat added.

---

Y/N was lying on the bed with her back to the door.

Bucky didn’t want to frighten her any further and knocked on the frame lightly. She didn’t move or say anything. But he knew she heard him from the way her body stiffened for a second.

The coward in him told him to run, that he ruined everything and Y/N finally saw the man that terrified the rest of the world.

But there was another part of him that was stronger. It led him to the other side of the bed so he could face her. She was silently crying. He kneeled in front of her so she was forced to acknowledge him.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Bucky finally broke the silence with a mumble. Y/N rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and inhaled. “Y/N,” Bucky whispered softly. “He’s not coming back here. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” He said the promise more for himself than for her. But Y/N needed to hear it.

She must have realized that his statement required some sort of salutation, because she nodded gently. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” She muttered pitifully.

Bucky shook his head, refusing the apology. Without realizing what he was doing, his flesh hand reached toward her face. He paused, waiting for her to give him a look of warning to stop. But she just watched him carefully. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear so he could fully see her face. It was wet from absorbing her tears.

Bucky cupped the side of her face and his thumb ghosted across the black eye… but was careful not to put any pressure on the injury.

“I should’ve been here.” Bucky finally whispered. His eyes suddenly became shiny with tears.

Y/N slowly pulled his hand away from his face to hold tightly. “If I don’t get to blame myself, neither do you.”

They stayed like that for a moment: Bucky kneeling in front of her as she held his hand to her chest.

“Bucky?” Y/N finally broke the spell.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Please… Can you stay with me tonight?” Y/N whispered the words as if she were scared of them.

“Of course.” Bucky stood up straight once again and she released his hand to scoot over to the other side of the bed. He arrived wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and heavy boots. Without thinking, he started unlacing the boots before moving onto the bed.

If it were any other night and under any other circumstances, the thin ice would panic Bucky. They had never shared a bed, never even slept in the same room. But none of that mattered right now. Y/N needed to feel safe. Bucky was just honored that it meant being with him.  

As soon as Bucky was in the bed, Y/N slowly shifted towards him. She was on his left side and it made him hesitate to touch her with his metal hand. But she bypassed the tension and moved her body so her head was tucked under the crook of his neck. Bucky’s frame naturally responded and his arms immediately enveloped her, pulling her even closer.

Bucky stared at the ceiling as his metal hand mindlessly rubbed her back. Y/N felt an odd comfort from the cool feeling it brought through her thin t-shirt.

Then Bucky suddenly felt an invasion of feeling. It was like walking into a cloud of warm air. Then his mind started deciphering it: fear and anxiety, but then it evolved into comfort and security.

It was then that Bucky grasped that Y/N was transferring her emotions onto him. The feelings were not his own.

Y/N must have realized her accident and that Bucky figured it out too. She squinted and shook her head, trying to gain the strength to control it. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. Sometimes it slips…” Her voice was filled with exhaustion.

“Shh…” Bucky soothed. “It’s okay. Just try and get some rest. You’re safe.” He felt her body relax even more and a few minutes later, she was asleep.

---

The next morning, Y/N expected to wake up in Bucky’s arms. But she was wrapped in a blanket instead and the other side of the best was empty. Her body still ached from the various injuries Brian had left on her body. She winced when she did a morning stretch.

Then her ears caught the sound of music and someone shuffling around in the kitchen. Y/N slowly got up from the bed and made her way downstairs.

Bucky was still wearing his jeans and t-shirt from last night as he moved around the kitchen. The room was filled with the smell of bacon, sausage, eggs, and waffles.

But Y/N’s attention was stuck on the vase sitting in the center of the kitchen counter. It was filled with freshly picked sunflowers.

Bucky noticed her arrival and caught her staring at the flowers. “I thought they’d make you feel better.” He commented. “I picked some from the garden. Hope you don’t mind.”

Y/N immediately shook her head. “No. They’re…they’re lovely.” She managed stutter out. His thoughtfulness still surprised her.

Then she brought her attention to all of the food. Bucky had made enough to feed an entire army.  

“I didn’t know what you’d have a taste for, so I sort of made… everything.” Bucky chuckled bashfully and shrugged.

Then, completely catching him off guard, Y/N rushed to embrace him. He held for a second before returning her hug. She exhaled into his chest. “Thank you, Bucky.” Y/N murmured. When she pulled away, she wiped away her tears with an embarrassed smile.

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “Ugh… I’m gonna grab Sam, Nat, and Wanda. They slept in the jet last night.”

Y/N just nodded.

Once she was left alone in the kitchen, she tried to sort through her emotions. It had been happening for a while, but she felt a warmth every time Bucky visited. The kiss was her desperate attempt to sort her confusion. But when he reacted so negatively, she pushed her growing feelings aside.

Y/N hated feeling like he was her knight in shining armor. Her ever-growing pessimism, mixed with her obsession with psychoanalyzing, tried to convince her that she was feeling transference from Bucky constantly rescuing her. Was she experiencing the inverse of the Florence Nightingale effect?  

The fact that she needed rescuing at all was Y/N’s bigger problem. At least that’s what she told herself.

“Where’s my favorite flower fairy?” A booming voice called out from the front door.

Y/N smiled at Sam’s voice. Ever since she brought her first flowers to the Avengers’ compound, Sam had that little nickname for her. She hadn’t seen him yet and couldn’t stop her smile from reacting to his energy.

Sam walked around the corner and into the kitchen. He wrapped her into a giant embrace. Y/N couldn’t deny how wholesome they felt. Sam was always the best hugger.

“Hi, Sam.” Y/N laughed. But then he squeezed her a little too tightly around one of her fading bruises. She took in a quick breath and tried to hide the pain.

But Bucky had been watching her carefully during the exchange. “Alright, take it easy.” He warned Sam.

Wanda and Natasha came in soon after with tired smiles.

The five of them sat around the table and talked about anything besides what had occurred in the last couple of days. Every once in awhile, Bucky would forget what dark circumstances had brought them together like this. But then he would look at Y/N’s black eye and see her smiling through her split lip.

Sam, Wanda, and Nat insisted on doing the dishes since Bucky had made breakfast. Y/N thanked everyone and quietly slipped out of the house. Bucky knew she was escaping to her greenhouse.

“How is she doing?” Sam asked as they finished cleaning up.

“As good as someone can be after going through what she has…” Bucky sighed.

“I think we should head out. Give her some space.” Sam commented. “You can wait here and take the other jet back with Tony and Clint once they bring Jimmy back.”

Bucky nodded in agreement.

Wanda and Sam gave him a pat on the back as they left the house.

Nat stayed behind. “Have you told her yet?” She asked him gently. He shook his head. “Maybe it’s time, James.” She suggested softly. Then she was gone too.

Bucky watched the jet take off before taking in a deep breath. Natasha was right. He walked toward the greenhouse.

Y/N was working at one of the tables, making a bouquet. Her fingers were so delicate as she placed sunflowers, lavender, thistles, and baby’s breath together so intricately.

She had sensed his entrance, but continued working. “I figured the least I could do is give you some to take home with you.” Y/N affirmed without looking up at him.

Bucky’s heart was about to burst out of his chest from the nerves. He was calmer going into battle than he was right now.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something.” Bucky walked further into the greenhouse and closed the door behind him.

Her eyes shot up. His tone made her realize that it was something serious. “Okay.” She confirmed nervously.

“All that time… when you thought I hated you.” Bucky began. “I owe you an explanation.”

Y/N shook her head. “Bucky, you don’t have to explain anything. It wasn’t fair for me to always expect us to be best friends. All that matters is-”

“No, Y/N, you don’t get it.” Bucky cut her off.

She swallowed.

“I was mean to you, I ignored you, and I treated you terribly. I’ll never deny any of that. But I’ve never hated you, Y/N.”

“James…” Y/N’s voice was shaking. This was the first time she’d ever used that name without anger. She was anxious now.

Bucky took in a deep breath, made himself look up from the ground, and stare in Y/N’s eyes. “I did it because I loved you.”

Y/N’s face had never been so stunned.

“Steve was my best friend. He deserved the life he had with you. I would’ve rather died than ruin it by having anyone find out the truth. I didn’t know what else to do, so I avoided you. When I couldn’t avoid you, I was terrible to you. I tried so hard to stop… to stop loving you. But I couldn’t… and I still can’t.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears.

“The day I arrived at the compound… I was walking through town. The market was going on. I saw this beautiful girl. She was carrying flowers and wearing these old fashioned sunglasses, from a time I hadn’t lived through.” Bucky’s eyes were unfocused as he relived the memory. A small smile appeared on his lips. “I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I told myself, ‘If life were different…that’s the woman I’d want to spend the rest of my life with’.”

Y/N waited for him to continue.

“I got to the compound, saw the flowers on the counter. The same flowers I’d seen the girl carrying at the market. Then you practically came skipping around the corner. I saw the way you and Steve looked at each other… and I knew I’d never have you.”

Y/N remembered that day too. She remembers walking through the market with Porthos. Her empath abilities had picked up on something that day. There was darkness and then sadness. But it changed into warmth and adoration… and it was aimed only at her. She had looked around right before getting into the car to see if she could spot whom it was coming from. But she hadn’t spotted Bucky. Bucky seemed to know that she was thinking about that day too. He watched her carefully, half expecting her to yell at him and escape.

Then he stepped forward, closing the space between them. But there was still a table standing between their two bodies. “If what you said was true and you really can tell when people are lying…” Bucky grabbed her hand and held it firmly. “Then I have to say this too and I need you to know it’s the truth. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t wish I could bring Steve back. I would give up you and I would give up Jimmy if that meant that Steve could still be alive.”

Tears were silently sliding down Bucky’s cheeks now. “But I know that’s impossible. When we kissed… It was the worst and best day of my life. I finally got the only thing I’ve ever wanted. But I realized I can never really have you… because you’re always going to be Steve’s girl.”

Y/N’s hand shook. She could feel all of his emotions coursing through her body. Not a single word he said was a lie. Behind the truth was tenderness and adoration and everything else a woman would ever desire from a lover.

How could she have missed it? Y/N wondered. How could an empath be so oblivious to a man’s unanswered love? Her heart broke from the efforts Bucky must have put forward to assure no one ever knew. Steve… had he recognized it? How could a best friend be oblivious to Bucky’s struggle?

Y/N couldn’t find words.

Suddenly the silence was ruined by the sound of a jet landing. Bucky and Y/N just stared at one another, fully aware that this moment was about to be over.

“Mom!” Jimmy yelled from the front yard.

Bucky finally let go of her hand.

Y/N immediately missed the contact.

Jimmy continued to call out after searching the house for her.

“I’m always going to love you, Y/N.” Bucky whispered, slowly walking backwards. “It’s never been just Jimmy…it’s always been the two of you.”

With that, Bucky left the greenhouse.

On his walk to the jet, he ran into the boy.

“Is everything okay?” Jimmy asked cautiously.

Bucky nodded and kneeled down. “Yeah, everything’s going to be okay.”

“Why are you leaving?”

Bucky sighed. “I-I can’t stay, Jimmy. You two will be safe. I promise.”

“But you just got here...”

“I know, I know.” Bucky admitted. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Then he caught sight of something shiny on the boy. Wrapped around Jimmy’s neck were Steve’s dog tags. The chain was so long that he had wrapped it around twice.

Jimmy didn’t realize the observation and hugged Bucky.

“I love you, Jimmy.” Bucky sighed as he returned the embrace.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

Bucky pulled away and squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “You look after your mom for me, okay? You call if you need anything.” The boy nodded.

Bucky walked to the jet. The engine never turned off. Clint and Tony must have known that he would either stay or need to escape. The two men seemed to know something had happened because they didn’t ask about his dejected air as he buckled into a passenger’s seat.

---

Part 10

Please please please reblog, comment, review. It makes me happy. :)

[michaelandy101-blog]

14 Signs Your Remote Team is Communicating Ineffectively

New Post has been published on http://tiptopreview.com/14-signs-your-remote-team-is-communicating-ineffectively/

14 Signs Your Remote Team is Communicating Ineffectively

Every weekend, my friends and I have online video calls to catch-up with each other.

Sometimes it feels like certain people dominate the conversation and others don’t feel comfortable speaking up.

These types of communication issues via remote conversations are actually normal.

In fact, for remote teams communication with co-workers is a challenge that remote workers face daily.

Additionally, according to HubSpot’s findings, non-HubSpot remote workers noted a lack of social connection (29%) and communicating with co-workers (29%) as the two biggest challenges they face being remote.

When your team can’t be in the same space, communication needs to become more intentional. So, how do you do that? And how do you know when your communication needs some work?

Below, let’s review some signs that your remote team isn’t communicating as effectively as possible.

Signs Your Remote Team is Communicating Ineffectively

Your team has too many meetings.

You’ve never thought about digital body language.

Team members don’t contribute during online team meetings.

Your team isn’t collaborating.

There’s no communication throughout the day.

Emails are overly complicated.

There’s no agenda or meeting structure.

Your team doesn’t use Working With Me documents.

Norms for communication haven’t been established.

Your team hasn’t built psychological safety.

Your team doesn’t express appreciation for one another.

Managers redo work from team members.

Assignments fall through the cracks.

Your team has a high turnover rate.

1. Your team has too many meetings.

As a remote worker, I know I’ve had days where I jump from meeting to meeting with no time for a break. Sometimes, this can actually be a symptom of poor communication.

Typically, your team shouldn’t have to meet several times a week. In fact, plenty of meetings can be sent in an email.

Before scheduling a meeting, think about whether that meeting will waste time. If you aren’t sure, then reevaluate whether the content can be sent in an email.

Additionally, keep in mind when you schedule a meeting that every person you invited needs to be there. If not, let them know it’s optional. Plus, think about the length of your meetings. If it can be shorter, make it shorter.

Regardless, it’s important to be intentional when you’re planning remote meetings.

2. You’ve never thought about digital body language.

When you’re communicating via video conferencing, it can be easy to forget about digital body language.

However, it’s important to keep in mind that nothing on camera is subtle and it can feel like you have a spotlight on you.

That means you have to pay even more attention to body language.

For instance, you should still maintain eye contact, speak clearly, and have your video on during remote calls.

3. Team members don’t contribute during online team meetings.

Have you ever been to a meeting where the same people speak up and other team members don’t?

This can be a symptom of poor communication on your team because it might mean that some team members don’t feel comfortable talking during meetings.

On the other hand, it’s important to keep in mind that some people are more introverted than others.

To ensure that all team members are contributing, consider asking everyone a question and going round-robin so everyone has a chance to speak.

4. Your team isn’t collaborating.

Do you collaborate with your team when the opportunity arises? As a manager, do you notice that your team isn’t collaborating?

If collaboration isn’t happening, this could be a sign that team members don’t feel comfortable reaching out to each other.

Additionally, this could mean that your team doesn’t have the tools they need to collaborate effectively.

For example, on the HubSpot blog team, we use Trello to keep track of our editorial assignments. With this tool, writers can easily collaborate with other team members when they want to lean on them for expertise.

5. There’s no communication throughout the day.

In previous remote roles, I was able to go days without talking to another coworker. While the introverted part of my personality loved that, it was a sign that our team wasn’t communicating well.

The more you talk to people on your team, the more trust you’ll have. This makes it easier to reach out when you need help. That’s why it’s important to make sure your team feels comfortable communicating throughout the day — even if it’s just to send a GIF to the group chat.

While you don’t want to inundate your team with messages, checking in every so often is important for camaraderie and team communication.

6. Emails are overly complicated.

Emails should always be simple, clear, and specific. If you’re writing an email and it’s overly complicated, you might want to schedule a quick Zoom meeting with that person.

To communicate effectively, it’s important to know what channel to use to deliver your message. Sometimes it works in an email, but sometimes it requires a meeting.

7. There’s no agenda or meeting structure.

If you don’t have an agenda or meeting structure, you might not be communicating effectively during your meetings.

Meetings should be organized and structured so they’re productive. Having an agenda will keep you on track.

You might even want to schedule in the five minutes of informal chat before a meeting gets started. This will help team members self-regulate.

If it’s possible, you should always send the agenda prior to the meeting.

However, this isn’t necessary with regularly scheduled meetings. For those, just make sure you’ve set expectations.

8. Your team doesn’t use “Working With Me” documents.

Every member on your team should have a “Working With Me” document that details work habits, expectations, and even interests.

These documents are helpful for managers to learn about their team so they can properly manage communication among various team members.

Additionally, you can also share these with everyone on the team so coworkers can get to know their teammates better.

Knowing each other’s work habits will help build trust and psychological safety on your team.

Instead of spending time trying to figure people out, your team can just talk about it.

9. Norms for communication haven’t been established.

If you’ve ever been stressed about communicating with your remote team, that’s probably because norms for communication haven’t been established.

For example, everyone’s work hours and breaks should be clear. This could mean that everyone is on the same Google calendar or they’ve added a status on their Slack so people know that they aren’t available.

Whatever your team’s method is, make sure that’s communicated among everyone.

Additionally, it might be wise to set expectations in your emails. When you send an email that doesn’t need a response, you might want to call that out.

Setting expectations and norms will help improve communication immensely.

10. Your team hasn’t built psychological safety.

If there’s no psychological safety on your team, then you aren’t communicating effectively.

On remote teams, sometimes it can be hard to feel included. However, the option to be included is so important.

When people don’t feel included, they won’t feel comfortable speaking up.

To build psychological safety in a remote meeting, make sure you go round-robin so everyone has a chance to speak.

Additionally, try to focus on bigger picture conversations and ask people specific questions.

Plus, you can do a “This or That” activity. Doing a quick icebreaker where everyone has to go around and answer a question can help people feel confident about communicating with the team.

11. Your team doesn’t express appreciation for one another.

Forming connections is paramount for communication.

One of the best ways to do this is to express gratitude for each other. For example, people should feel free to congratulate each other in a group chat.

Additionally, you can send birthday cards or just create an email thread of appreciation.

Expressing gratitude is a great way to renew your energy and create a safe space on your team.

12. Managers redo work from team members.

If you’re a manager and you’ve found yourself redoing work from your team, that means you aren’t communicating effectively.

When assignments are sent back with errors, typically this means that the assignment wasn’t clear and expectations weren’t communicated.

If you ever redo someone’s work, that shows that you might not feel comfortable sending edits.

Again, the problem here is all about communication. The only way to improve this process is to … you guessed it, communicate with each other.

13. Assignments fall through the cracks.

Have you ever had an assignment just fall through the cracks? Or perhaps you’re unsure where you left off on a project.

When this happens, it’s clear that you aren’t using a great project management tool that enables communication.

With project management tools, you should be able to see what stage a project is on and collaborate with others right in the tool. By improving communication, assignments won’t fall through the cracks.

14. Your team has a high turnover rate.

If your team has a high turnover rate, that could mean that your communication isn’t effective. When this happens, it’s important to talk to your team so you can figure out what’s working and what isn’t.

While working remotely can make communication feel harder, it doesn’t have to be that way. If your team is communicating ineffectively, you can use these productivity tips to help.

Editor’s note: This post was originally published in May, 2020 and has been updated for comprehensiveness.

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[jjillekkot]

♡ How many people do you like? Are there any people in particular that pop up? ☢ What calms you down after negativity? ♻ Any advice on improving Tumblr RP experience? ☺ What tends to bring out your muse the most? What inspires you?

hella sweet munday meme // @fairlegacy

Sam’s out for hearts & raw emotion with these questions ! What a sharpshooter ! ( bang bang bang! )

I like plenty of people, sure. For the most part, the community has been friendly to me. I haven’t had too much to complain about, except for the unsolicited content usually accompanied by unrequited love declarations.

No, seriously. And here’s another reminder to everyone that I’m demiromantic. Please try and get to know me personally before suggesting we’re ‘ soulmates ’ unless I mutually agree? It’s in my rules, but: if it’s not a hard yes, it’s probably a no. Not only does that apply to things related to my blog, but also my life. 

With that out of the way… I don’t want people to feel abandoned if I forget to tag them or something ( that’s reserved for follow forevers lmao ) or to feel anxious about the nature of our friendship or something, so I won’t name names. But I’ll say this: if you’re unsure, you should work on the dynamic of our relationship yourself. People who are confident that I like them & enjoy their company already know who they are.

I tend to laugh at negativity sent my way, on the rare occasion it arises, because usually it’s either unfounded or unnecessary. Also, there’s probably nothing you can say or do that hasn’t been told or done to me already. I’m also my own toughest critic, so if you think I’m doing a poor job? I probably also think I’m doing a poor job. 

It should go without saying as well, though it’s pretty well outlined in my rules, that this is a no hate blog. You don’t like me for whatever your personal reasons are? Fine. You can go. Don’t have anything positive to say? I don’t need to hear from you at all. However, I do accept constructive criticism. Meaning, if you have examples & you are specific about how I can improve, I’ll take that. I don’t have time or honestly interest about you nitpicking or what your personal preference is & how I don’t fit into your mold of a perfect writer / Yuffie / what have you. Make your own blog. Write fanfiction. Follow a different one. Just don’t nag me.

After that, um?? I do think seriously about what people say. So I’ll try to adapt if I think it’s actually reasonable & legitimate. And otherwise? Use my usual means of destressing. Or ignoring it if it’s completely dumb.

How to improve the experience… um.

I think it’s really important for people to remember that they control access to the content that’s on their dashboards? You don’t have to follow anyone. You can block or blacklist uncomfortable things, or people if necessary. Rather than deflecting personal responsibility for your own safety or entertainment, take control into your own hands? You control your own experience. 

There’s a lot of like… kind of controlling behavior at times, whether it’s subliminal or overt. Like in terms of triggers, for example, there’s a difference in saying, “ I’m sensitive to x, x, & x topics ” as opposed to “ if you ever post x, x, or x topics I’ll block you & publicly roast you. ” Or the most recent thing I’ve seen is “ These are legitimate triggers, these are squicks, so get over yourself if such & such content is posted. ” Maybe if people weren’t trying to police the universe and took the time to actually police themselves, the community would be better for it. Because that’s bullying, first and foremost. Admit it. Accept it. If you’re guilty of it, then fix yourself, honestly. 

And like... take the time to actually investigate things? Don’t wrongfully accuse them of anything. There’s a difference between saying, “ Hey, I like this piece & I was wondering if there was a source for that ” as opposed to saying, “ TAG YOUR SHIT ” & then surprise? Maybe they’re the original source? People create their own content these days, I know, what a shocker. I’ve been a victim of bullying here in this community because people didn’t know all the facts & didn’t choose to investigate or ask politely, for one reason or another. & it makes me honestly want to ask: do you enjoy being a bully? Are you so up your own ass that it’s hard to think that the perspective you have isn’t the only one available? A little consideration goes a long way. But also patience. And more than anything, a little effort on your end. 

Personal. Responsibility. It’ll change not only the rpc, but the world. I promise this to you.

In my personal life, what inspires me is the beauty of life, I think. It’s so easy to become discouraged due to all the abysmal things happening... ‘cause there’s a lot. But then taking the time to reconnect with nature & remember what it looks like to see a flower blooming, a plant producing fruit, produce ready to be picked, the leaves changing color, the breeze on your skin... things like that. Being cognizant that life is flowing all around you, through you... it’s really refreshing, I think. But I’m also Native American & maybe that was a little too Pocahontas for y’all, idk. 

I’m also really inspired by people with really beautiful personalities or spirits. Sam, you know you personally inspire me because I literally tell everyone all the time including you. It encourages me to stay strong & that being gentle isn’t a weakness. It’s something this world is desperately lacking at times & someone has to show compassion.

When I’m feeling good internally, that’s when I produce the best content. 

& naturally there’s times I feel disconnected from Yuffie & feel like I need to engage the source material. So I’ve gone through Dirge of Cerberus a few times & Kingdom Hearts, but I should probably make time for the main game again. I’m never too disconnected from her, though; I have posters of the child in my room lmao. ( but yo I need a figurine??? help a bean out?? )

I think it’s also reassuring that my friends on occasion will laugh at me & tell me when I’m having Yuffie moments. Sometimes it’s the way my hair is styled, or my fashion sense, or some gesture I’ll make. So being told that I’m in tune with my muse even outside of my writing is also pretty useful to me. 

& just... when I’m feeling free in my personal life, that helps me to feel invigorated in my expression & I think it really shows. 

I hope that answers that question. 

[heroofhyrulelink]

It’s Finally Here!

Ah yes that Revalink fic is finally here! It’ll post the first chapter here on Tumblr but after this all updates will exclusively on AO3 and Wattpad (I suggest reading it there anyway because Tumblr likes to mess everything up). Want there Links? (Get it?) well here they are! AO3 and Wattpad. 

I’ll be putting most of it under a read more, hope you guys like it!

Being a Rito Warrior meant Revali had to go through merciless training regularly. He had to train not only his body to endure freezing cold temperatures far more extreme than the "stay at home" Rito could handle, but he also had to train his mind. Being a Rito Warrior meant that he would have to spend many lonely days doing nothing but spending his hours at the Flight Range shooting arrows at targets to make sure his perfect aim remained perfect. Being a Rito Warrior meant that he would train like there was a threat to the village and the only one who could stop it was him. Being a Rito Warrior meant he would protect his people for whatever the cost.

Yet despite all these things, Revali was being summoned by his village's elder to return at once. Revali shot a glare at the poor Rito who was sent to inform Revali that Kaneli needed him back. Sure, it wasn't the guy's fault but Revali was going to be mad at him anyway.

"Did the Elder at least explain what he needed me for?" The Rito Warrior asked in a rather annoyed tone as he secured his bow on his back.

"No, but I did see two Hylians with him. One of them was the Princess. Zelda is her name, I believe. The other...I don't know. He looked like some sort of soldier." Revali grunted and muttered a thank you before he extended his wings and flew off into the sky, heading back to the Rito Village. He flew a bit slower than his normal speed, he just wasn't in the mood to be interrupted in the middle of training for some kind of meeting with the Elder and supposedly the Princess of Hyrule. He supposed it was kind of an honor though, whatever it may be.

Revali landed gracefully on the platform and looked over to the Elder's home. He could already see the Princess in her royal blue gown and some other fellow who definitely did look like a solider. Now Revali was really wondering what was going on. He sighed and prepared himself mentally before he began walking to the Elder's room.

"Ah, what wonderful timing!" Kaneli smiled and gestured to Revali as he walked in. "I was just boasting about you my boy! Come! Allow me to introduce you!" Revali nodded stiffly as he silently stood besides Kaneli and faced the two Hylians. "Princess Zelda, meet Revali. A fine Warrior- the best there is!- and the most skilled archer in all of the Rito! His skills are most definitely something you'll need! He can create updrafts of air to boost his flying you know, something no other Rito can do!" Princess Zelda smiled and shook Revali's hand.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance Revali." Revali smiled politely and knelt down, bowing his head in respect. "As you know I am Princess Zelda. This here is my appointed knight, Link." Link nodded at the Rito warrior. "He's a very gifted fighter and a master with the sword."

"Pleasure to meet the two of you. Now I don't mean to seem rude but may I ask what I was called in for?" Kaneli laughed again and patted Revali's back.

"For a job! A wonderful opportunity for you to show off your amazing skills!" Revali raised an eyebrow questioningly. "These two have come to seek out the bravest, most skillful warriors in all the land! They've asked me handpick one of my finest warriors and I have chosen you." Revali nodded and was about to speak before Zelda spoke again.

"I'm not sure if you know this but my father has tasked the Sheikah tribe to find things on our ancestors regarding the ancient evil that forever torments our kingdom. We have found four mechanical creatures in each corner of our country and we're currently excavating smaller machines. Of the four creatures we found one in the Hebra region. Our scientists have discovered that this one is called Vah Medoh, one of four Divine Beasts." Zelda turned to Link and held out her hand, Link nodded and un-clipped a thin tablet with the Sheikah eye on it and placed it on her hand. Zelda turned the tablet on and showed Revali a picture of the Divine Beast that was displayed on the screen. "Vah Medoh is obviously a bird. With the information we have so far we know that this Beast can actually fly. We need a pilot for Vah Medoh to help us defeat the evil we know is quickly approaching and I was hoping you would accept the position."

Well now this certainly was flattering. The Princess of Hyrule was coming to Revali for help to pilot a piece of ancient technology crucial to Hyrule's safety. Revali knew that that wasn't the way to think of this situation but he just couldn't help it. He loved when people sought him out to acknowledge his skills in some way.

"Of course I will do it. It would be my honor to pilot Vah Medoh and help protect Hyrule as well as my village." The Princess smiled and did a small bow.

"Thank you, thank you so much. Now I'd like to run some things by you. First of which is that since you are the first of four pilots you have to accompany Link and I on the rest of our journey to find the next four. Second, once all four pilots are chosen my father has proclaimed that we all must train together. That will come later though so we don't have to dwell on that too much. Lastly, Link here is...well he is the most crucial part of our plan. While he is highly advanced in sword fighting he will need help in his archery. Since you are the most skilled archer there is you and he will have to train one-on-one for a while. But don't worry, he will be training in other areas as well. We just need him to be highly advanced with all sorts of weapons. I hope this isn't too much all at once."

"No no, not at all." Revali waved the worry away, smiling pleasantly. However on the inside he was squinting his eyes and staring at Link. What could be so special about this boy that learning every kind of weapon there is was a necessity? "I shall head to my home and pack some things then we can be on our way." The Princess nodded and walked off, her knight obediently following her.

"Ohoho, Revali I'm glad you took the position. I have to say I was a bit unsure if you would."

"That's insulting. Of course I'd take the position to pilot a so-called Divine Beast. Better me than someone less capable." The Rito Warrior mumbled that last part as he began walking out of the Elder's home. He sighed and walked over to the nearby landing, flying up into the air and onto one of the rock pillars close to the Village. Revali liked the solitude of having his home a bit separated from the rest of the village, that and he enjoyed how the morning sun made the village look as beautiful as ever.

Revali packed up some belongings in a bag that he mostly used when he went out into the Hebra mountains. He didn't have much to pack, just the necessities. Some scarves and extra pieces of armor along with a book or two and some necessary items to care for his beloved bow. With everything packed Revali slung the bag over his shoulder and flew right back to the Elder to say one last goodbye.

"Revali," Kaneli sighed as he proudly gazed down at the Rito Warrior, "I have watched you grow from a young boy barely learning to fly to a very skillful warrior. You have protected our people from countless enemies and proven your worth time and time again. I very proud of you." Revali smiled and bowed his head. "For your trip I have taken it upon myself to give you a small amount of rupees." Kaneli handed him a small pouch that was quite heavy. Revali opened it up to find that there was mostly gold and silver rupees inside. "Now I know it isn't much but I don't want you running out of supplies anytime soon." The Elder stood up slowly and gave Revali a hug. Revali reluctantly hugged him back (physical affection wasn't his thing but he never knew when he'd see Kaneli next). Kaneli let Revali go and told him once more how proud he was before the Rito Warrior and future hero of Hyrule left.

The Princess and her knight were waiting by the stable. The knight- Link- was with tending to the horses attached to a carriage. Revali landed besides him. The smile put on Link's face by the presence of the horses vanished once Revali made his own presence known. Link nodded at the Rito Warrior, gave a horse one last pat before he turned to Revali and bowed his head.

"Don't let me stop you from tending to your pets." Revali muttered as turned back to look at the Rito Village. "Tell me Link, what's your role in all of this? Do you pilot a Divine Beast as well?" Link shook his head. "Oh, then what is it you do?" Link said nothing but he looked rather uncomfortable. Revali was about to open his beak and say something a bit rude about Link's silence when the Princess returned.

"Sorry about the wait, I was asking for the quickest route to Zora's Domain. Hopefully King Dorephan has chosen someone already." Link helped Zelda into the Royal Carriage and held the door open for Revali who seemed unsure if he was exactly allowed in. "It's fine, Link is...Link will be fine out there, it is his job after all. Besides I have plenty of guards as well. This is your moment of relaxation before we begin our preparations." Revali nodded and stepped in, sitting a good distance away from Zelda. Link waited until the two were settled before he prompted the horses to begin walking.

There was silence between the two in the carriage. Revali didn't exactly know what to say or do really. He's never really had the opportunity to talk to Hyrule Royalty before and he wasn't the best at socializing either... Reavli sighed and looked around, he caught a glimpse at blond hair and a light blue earring. He found his topic.

"That boy, your knight, what is he?" Zelda tensed up at looked down at her hands.

"He's the knight my father appointed to protect me. According to prophecies he is an important part of our plan to seal the darkness. I'd rather not explain too much of what he does right now, it'll be easier once we gather the others." Revali nodded. "...But I can...say certain things...for one...he doesn't talk as much as he did before. In fact he never talks. I don't know why but it's been frustrating. Communication is kind of important and not everyone understands sign language but whatever." Well that explained his silence from before. "He's been training nearly all his life to be a knight like his father. When he...proved himself to be something special my father assigned him to protect me as well as...other things. He lived out in Hateno Village but would constantly make a journey to Zora's Domain. His family owned a small farm of cows and has always had a love of animals."

"That seems rather personal information, Princess."

"Yes well when someone as important as Link comes around we needed to know as much of him as possible." Revali nodded but that didn't stop him from believing that everything the Princess knew was a little creepy.

The rest of the trip was spent mostly in silence. The two attempted to make small talk; talking about Revali's life, how he became a Rito Warrior, his daily training, his interests, etc. None of those conversations lasted too long. Finally after what felt like weeks they reached a point in their path where the horses could no longer pull the carriage along the path. They had to travel to Zora's Domain by foot. Not even five minutes of walking passed and Revali offered to carry the Princess on her back and and fly her straight to the Domain. She accepted the offer and Link had to take one of his many shortcuts to the Domain.

When they arrived they were greeted by the young Zora Prince who was no older than seven. Surprisingly enough Link had beaten Revali and the young Prince tore his attention away from Link and whatever frog he caught on the way over to tell the Princess hello. Zelda smiled and asked the Zora Prince (Revali later learned his name to be Sidon) to please show her where his father was. Sidon happily took her hand and led the way. Revali and Link followed behind her.

"I'm impressed with how fast you made it here, Link." Revali mumbled, keeping his eyes straight. "I didn't expect you to get here so soon. There's nothing but mountains around here and I didn't see you climbing anything. How did you manage to get here?" Link shrugged and quickened his pace. Well so much for Revali trying to make some kind of effort to talk to him.

This meeting with the Zora went much like the meeting with the Rito. The King announced the one chosen to pilot the next Divine Beast, Vah Ruta, and then introductions were made. The chosen pilot was Princess Mipha. King Dorephan gloated of how much she was an expert in spear fighting and how her gift of healing would most definitely be something of use to them. Mipha already had her belongings, all that was left was the goodbyes. Mipha hugged both her brother and her father warmly, her brother being the more emotional one in this situation. Once Mipha let go and began walking over to the other three the young Zora Prince ran in front of her and hugged Link's leg. By now it was quite obvious to Revali that Link did in fact spend a lot of time here. With everything said and done the four of them went down the path and back to the carriage, they all climbed in and off they went to Gerudo Town in search of their next pilot.

Mipha seemed nice. Though Revali didn't deem her to be someone worthy to be fighting for Hyrule. She seemed too...quiet. She kept her voice low and it almost always sounded like she didn't want to upset anyone. She spoke only when directly spoken to and just didn't seem like much of a warrior. Then again she was classified as an expert fighter. Perhaps she was a monster out on the battlefield with her spear in hand. Revali decided he wouldn't try to judge her (or further his judgement) until he saw her put that Lightscale Trident to use.

When they finally arrived to a stable near the Gerudo Desert everyone was too tired to even consider crossing the desert. Zelda agreed to stay at the stable, she needed a good night's rest on a bed and not sitting up in a moving carriage. The kind stable workers allowed them to rest for free, Zelda accepted but Link knew how hard it was to tend to animals so he slipped them a silver rupee. The two Princesses fell asleep almost immediately. Revali was going to sleep but he noticed someone wasn't in any of the beds.

Link was outside with the horses, as expected. He sat on a wooden box and wrote in what appeared to be a journal. The only light he had to write with was that of a fire a good five feet away. When Revali found him like this he was kind of surprised. The Rito walked over and simply stood in front of Link. Link closed his journal, tucked it away in sack strapped onto a horse, and waved to Revali.

"What is it you're doing out here?" Link made some incredibly confusing hand signals that Revali only assumed to be sign language. "I don't speak or understand that." Link then took out another book and began writing in that. He lifted it up and read it aloud. "Protecting Zelda? We're in the middle of nowhere. Who will harm her?" He wrote in it again and lifted up the book. "It's my job to protect her from anything, even if there is no danger. Hm, well carry on I suppose." Link nodded and closed the book and turned to the horse. Revali didn't move. Link ignored him.

"Right, well. Have a goodnight." Revali muttered as Link nodded. That conversation was a complete disaster and he was quite sure he had just embarrassed himself. Great. Revali sat down in his bed and sighed looking outside. In a few hours he'd have to wake up and begin his journey across the desert to Gerudo Town. He thought of how nice it would be to fall asleep right now, covered in blankets and their warmth. But it was just that, a thought. He didn't get any sleep that night and when the sun rose and the new day began he was as tired as ever.

They managed to make it to the Kara Kara Bazar without anyone dying of heat stroke. Zelda insisted on stopping, Mipha needed to re-hydrate and Zelda had to take a bath and change into another dress. Revali didn't mind the break, it would be nice to get  out of this heat and have a nice meal. The rest and relaxation only lasted a couple hours but Revali more energized than before. Before long they stopped in front of Gerudo Town.

The Gerudo Chief, Urbosa, walked out. Zelda explained that she was there for the next pilot of Divine Beast Vah Naboris. Urbosa wasted no time in announcing that she would do it herself. Zelda was shocked to say in the least. Urbosa let Zelda try to convince her to stay and assign someone else- perhaps a warrior? A soldier?- but Urbosa explained that her duty as Chief was to protect her people and helping fend off evil was the best way to do so, besides, her lightning abilities could work wonders for the team. The Gerudo Chief assigned a younger Gerudo (who Revali assumed to be Urbosa's daughter but he wasn't too sure) to manage to their people while she was away. Urbosa invited both Mipha and Zelda into the town but Link and Revali had to stay out due to their "no voe law".

The two of them were left alone yet again and Revali was beginning to feel like this would happen a lot. They were silent for a long time, Revali was, of course, the one to break this awkwardness.

"Will you ever talk? It's getting to be rather annoying to be the only one attempting to talk." Link looked over at Revali and grinned. Much to Revali's annoyance Link took out his book, scribbled in it and showed his answer off to Revali.

"Not in a hundred years."

The Rito rolled his eyes and decided to ignore the Hylian for the rest of his time there.

A good hour later and the three came out of Gerudo Town. Urbosa properly introduced herself to both Revali and Link and with that they all ventured back to the Gerudo Canyon Stable.

Their next stop was Goron City. No one was looking forward to that meeting, especially not Mipha. Once they reached the Foothill stable Mipha tested the fireproof elixir on herself (her being a Zora meant that any sort of small contact with extreme heat like that of Death Mountain's would most likely fry her) but sadly it didn't seem to work. Urbosa suggested having a traveling Goron fetch the Goron Boss and his chosen pilot, Zelda thought that to be unprofessional but she agreed.

They waited for a few hours at the stable, it was around dusk when the traveler returned with another Goron. This new Goron introduced himself to be Daruk, The Goron Boss. He had chosen himself to be the pilot of the next Divine Beast, Vah Rudania. His reasoning for this was similar to that of Urbosa's, he wanted to protect his people and all of Hyrule. He also mentioned he had some sort of protection power. Zelda didn't argue with Daruk but silently hoped he placed someone capable in charge of the Gorons while he was absent.

Now that all pilots were chosen Zelda made the announcement that it was time to stop by one more place before returning to the castle. She looked over to Link and he nodded, preparing the horses for the trip. As they climbed into the carriage Mipha asked where they were heading. With a sigh, Zelda spoke.

"The Lost Woods where the sword of legend- The Master Sword- lays deep in the heart of it. We're going so Link can...begin his duty of becoming the ancient hero of Hyrule."

[thepensiverambler]

Little by little

26th I woke as usual, sweat on my brow to find another still day. Today was hot. Really hot. In my opinion it was no hotter than any other day only we didn't have a nice cooling breeze. I tried to get into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast on their was a great big lock in the way. After searching long and hard for a key (little over a minute) I resigned myself to wait for the others to wake and come and find the key. Once they did come and we were finally all sat at breakfast chatter began to wander towards the daily plan. I had had aspirations of starting to flatten the ground on which to dig the volunteer house and to dig it's foundations. It became clear to me that no one was keen on doing any strenuous physical activity. I helped Cuba with the minor chore of cutting away to filler he'd used on the walls in the kitchen. I decided I would go and help Hanna to rake field. We needed to get rid of all dry grass and other plants in order to transform it into a nice area for workshops. We decided to burn the grass in a metal drum as we were Coldingham the grass. The burning was talking too long so we tried burning the grass in clumps on the ground. We took precautions to contain the fire such as digging a small trench to around the fire, wetting the ground around it and we watched it closely armed with watering cans. The fire escaped after a while and crawled 2 or 3 metres aways before we spotted it and jumped into action with our emergency water. At the end of the field was a patch of ground I hadn't noticed before on which nothing grew. Perfect for our fire. I told the others that was the place for us. I was called a genius and we set to work, for about 5 minutes. Ali shouted at us all saying that we were all going to the beach. Now at this point I know a lot of you may consider me grumpy but I really didn't want to go to the beach. I'd had a day off the previous day, and I had a task in hand that was different to mixing concrete. I had’nt come to Turkey to simply go to the beach when it was a little warmer than was comfortable. After a little rebellion I and 3 others remained at the village to work whilst the others left to the beach. I was alone in the field. A vast expance to clear with just a bucket and a rake. I set to work. I worked nonstop for 4 hours. Well I took water breaks of course. And one for a coffee. And a few dates. And maybe a slice of water melon and a fig. After my tireless work I had got to about halfway through the field, there was now a large mound of hay at one end of the field but all I could see was the work still at hand. The four of us took lunch (pasta and a salad). As we finishing our post lunch coffees the minibus of beach goers returned. To get out of the way I went back to my field to get on with the job. I had the aim of finishing it by the end of the day and I knew that if stopped too long I wouldn't be able do it alone. Bit between my teeth I worked without regard for the sweat dripping of my nose and occasionally into my mouth. No regard for my t-shirt stuck to me with a large T written across my chest in slightly darker maroon than the original. Hoping all the while my morning crew would return and lighten to the load yet team never did. I had to employ the help of another volunteer, Eros. We worked for an hour together until at last my herculean task was complete. I had a haystack down one end of the field large enough to feed the entirety of the Grand national horses for a year. It was huge. Easily 6 feet in height, 10 feet long and another 6 feet in width. Now for the fun part or the day. The fire. After a few safety precautions we torched the lot, played a little ‘cricket’ as it burned. Cricket consisted of being tossed a ball and trying to pull the ball (stone) so that it might rain down on the others that were still building the kitchen. The bat was a slat from a pallet, not quite the fine piece of willow to which I'm used but a bat nonetheless. The shot need to travel around 60 metres but even my best times shots were falling 10 metres short. I had to go to the cafe to get wifi to find out when I would be going to University. Yes I should probably have known this before I came out and started to plan travelling Turkey but I didn't. I got on the pink bike and enjoyed a nice cycle into town. I spent a little time sorting my life out until I met a couple of the new volunteers. One was a 19 year old Norwegian girl that I’d chatted a little at the village earlier in the day. We sat and chatted for a while, to put it nicely she talked too much, to put it less nicely the girl had verbal diahorrea. I don't mean to be too rude because I thought she was a sweet girl but good lord she enjoyed talking about herself. I enjoy meeting new people because you never know what they'll be like but there's only so much I want to talk about exams and university. I would have assumed that being the same age we'd have had a similar experience over the past year of everyday conversations about university and future. I'm sick of it. I don't care what uni you're going to. I don't care what you're studying. I don't care if you're nervous, excited or unsure about the experience. I really don't care if you're looking forward to freshers or not, it doesn't matter either way we both know you're going to turn up at freshers, get too drunk one time and think you're now a ‘hardcore student’. Regardless of this it's the common ground we found and, wishing we were both into football I covered the usual topics as though ticking them from my checklist. After some dinner we had delivered I got a lift home and went to bed. 27th I was picking up stones in the field when Beret came to me and asked if I wanted to come to the police station to distribute to a group picked up trying to cross to Chios that morning. Yes. Of course I did. We got in the car and drove to the shop picking 48 bottles of water and countless loaves of bread. We then drove to the cafe and picked up toys for the children and tinned beans. 200 metres down the road was the police station which was right on the sea front between 2 fancy bars. I nearly walked straight past it but the others turned in and we walked up the narrow steps into a courtyard. I was expecting to find 15 or so refugees sat in a hostile, white synthetic room with water coolers and cork boards. This was not the case, 30 or so refugees sat in the courtyard struggle to find shade from the midday heat. We went round handing out bread, water and toys for the children. The groups ranged from large families of women and children to couples to lone men. I didn't find out where they were from which would have such an impact on their future. It seems strange to think how these people could be treated so differently to me due to their place of birth. How they could be treated so differently to each other depending on whether they were Syrian or Iraqi. During my visit we were fortunate to be supervised by a nice police officer. He was friendly, opening a tin of beans for us and even fetching another loaf of bread when we ran out. We are lucky in Cesme that the police station is quite nice to give us a call when they've made arrests so that we can come and offer some relief. We're lucky in Cesme, to have quite a cooperative police station which will call us when they've made arrests. Sometimes they'll feed them, sometimes they won't. The police argue they don't have enough money to spend on food for refugees. Some policemen aren't as nice as the one we were supervised by today. Every volunteer who has spent a significant amount of time in a camp has witnessed violence from police officers. The worst thing as a volunteer is in these sorts of situations there's nothing you can do. If you interfere you jeopardise the relationship with charity and police which endangers the welfare of far more future refugees than the one receiving the beating. The situation reminds me of that of Rwanda when the UN force was sent in during the mass genocide with a mandate that wouldn't allow them to interfere with violence. Cases were reported where UN officers had to stand by whilst they watched the slaughter of men,women and children. The effects of the genocide has given both murderers and UN officials PTSD. I'm sure this crisis will do the same. I'm fortunate not to have witnessed much violence in my brief time volunteering. It's seems silly that in the total 4 or 5 days I've spent in the presence of both refugees and law enforcement that I should feel fortunate not to have witnessed grave violence. Cesme police station treats it's detainees well to a point. They often leave it a few hours until they call us, leaving refugees to grow more and more uncomfortable and hungry in the midday sun. I see no point in treating refugees poorly in detention. Some argue that it's to act as a deterrent, to teach them a lesson. These people are willing to risk their lives to get to Greece a few hours of discomfort is not going to do well as a deterrent. The proof of this is easy to find, today I heard of a man that had attempted the crossing 8 times unsuccessfully. So why not treat these poor people as human beings and not animals to be punished for attempting to improve their lives. 28th The news came that last night a boat had sunk attempting to make the crossing. 7 dead, 10 alive. It shook me a little as I'd been to a departing beach just days before, met with refugees that had attempted the crossing just yesterday. It made me think and question whether I doing all I could at this moment in time. Surely it's more important to save lives than to improve them. But what life can you lead without the possibility of betterment? Just crossing your fingers and hoping that you'll be able to save enough money over the summer to feed yourself for the winter. I was told in Calais that whatever we do will never be enough and it's true. You can be working 20 hours a day 7 days a week and you won't think that it's enough. All we can hope to do is improve lives little by little to a point where they can start to improve them on their own.

[calamity-writes]

28.3 Dead Lions Don’t Roar

CW: domestic abuse

~2500 words

Milliara

The gilt gate that emerged from the blizzard was just as large and ornate as Milliara remembered. Wrought iron posts hammered into lances that once stretched up a dozen feet tall, each festooned with golden feathers. The gates screamed Orlesian military. Once, a lifetime ago, Milliara had thought it was beautiful and proud. Now she saw it as the prison she’d escaped. The perverse pleasure at seeing the prison gates pulled ajar, and bent by something large. A vehicle, or a dragon perhaps. Whatever evidence had been left was buried under massive snow drifts, and Milliara didn’t feel like digging.

“This way,” the little boy said, letting go of Millie’s hand and waddling through the snow to slip through the opening of the gates to the path beyond.

The gates swung open before the sleek black car. From the small guard house to the right of the gate, a guard leaned out the window and waved a hello. Milliara lifted her hand in reply as Fred started to drive down the gravel road towards the manor. She hadn’t seen so many trees, so much green in one place since she was a girl. Now, driving down the lane, she was surrounded by stately pines and lancelike firs. Returning her raised hand to her swelling belly, Milliara looked over at Fred. He already looked more relaxed than he had when they'd landed.

“This will be good. No,” she breathed. “It'll be perfect. Look at all these trees. I can take our baby for walks and they’ll feel the grass under their feet when they take their first steps... It’s so... perfect.” Ugh she'd just used the word twice. Milliara wrinkled her nose, but he didn't seem to notice.

“Every time I think I've civilized you, you turn into such an elf,” Fred snorted. A meaty hand reached out and squeezed her knee. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Hey, Milliara?”

She blinked, shaking the reverie off her like so much cobwebs. Varian stood on the otherside of the gates, head poking through the opening. The helmet he wore was still too big and it was hanging lopsided from his head. Little mittened hands reached up to adjust it, but the helmet just fell the other way.

“Sorry, Varian. You can call me 'Millie' if you'd like,” she said. She still hesitated though, glancing over at Solas before she stepped forward. Ever the gentleman, he held out a hand to help her through the deep snow. Milliara took it, holding on tight. Her physical balance might be fine, but emotionally... far from it. “I just- It’s been a long time since I saw the front of the gates.”

“Yeah?” Varian asked, taking her other hand once she and Solas had made their way through the gate. “My clan was here but the red people scared most of them away. Did yours live here too?”

Milliara shook her head.

“No, I used to live up there,” she said, pointing to the looming shadow of the manor at the end of the drive way. “In the big house.”

Varian’s helmet tilted back as he craned his neck up at her.

“You did?”

Milliara nodded, turning back to the shadow ahead.

“I did.”

The fall air was crisp on her cheeks, and the breeze pulled her hair from the bun on the top of her head, whipping strands across her eyes to catch on her lashes. Milliara couldn’t help but smile, breathing in the pine-needle air as she walked down the drive to the gates.

A hand on her growing belly, Millie slowed as she reached the gate and the guardpost there. She’d taken to walking every morning, and the doctors had told her that it was a good way to stay active until the baby arrived. Things had been better lately. While Fred often had to travel, he was sweet and thoughtful when he was around, and brought her gifts from the different places he went.  “Good morning madamoiselle,” the guard said, dipping his head towards her.

“Morning Renault,” she replied with a smile. “Would you mind opening the gate for me? I was thinking I’d walk down to the bakery and pick up some rolls for tonight’s supper.”

“Ah,” the guard looked uncomfortable. “I’m afraid the Baron has requested you stay on the Manor grounds until further notice. Unrest has reached Orlais, and he is concerned for your safety.”

Milliara frowned.

“Well, can you accompany me?” she asked, unsure why Fred worried about the Emprise being dangrous. It was the sleepiest part of Orlais, that was why she’d moved here.

“The Baron was quite clear, Madamoiselle. However he hopes the issue will be resolved soon and things will return to normal.”

It didn’t resolve.

Things didn't return to normal.

Nothing did.

With Varian holding her hand tightly, Milliara let the boy pull her forward into the manor’s entranceway. vaulted cielings and marble floors made for an interior that was just as cold as outside. Snow had blown in and lay unmelted against the grand staircase that led up to the next floor.

The wing to the left of the entrance was for entertaining, rooms for guests, the parlour and dining rooms. To the right…

“The kitchen is where I stay 'cause I made a little fire place and it’s warm,” Varian said, pulling her to the right. Milliara followed, numb.

Painted portraits of the Rousseau line watched her as she passed. They were silent, just like they had been years ago.

There was a stranger in the entranceway.

Milliara froze on the top of the steps, hand on the sleeping infant swaddled tight and nestled against her chest. Holding her breath, Millie looked over the man, taking in the situation. He was tall, at least a foot taller than she was. That meant he'd have a longer reach. Dark hair, but clean shaven to show off the nasty knife scar on his left cheek. The man's nose had been flattened and pushed to the side. He could take a hit, and kept working. His nose hadn't been set after at least one of the breaks it had suffered. He sat on a dinning room chair, taken from the family wing. He'd been let in.

Turning, Milliara crept silently back up to the nursery. Closing the door, she wedged a chair under the knob to keep the man from getting inside in case he'd noticed her and followed.

Millie held Nils close, stroking the downy hair on his tiny head to calm herself. When she felt calm enough to call him, Milliara dialed Fred on her tablet.

Fred picked up, his face clearly annoyed. It was late in Halamshiral, and Millie could see their bed in the background. Rubbing his face, Fred squinted at the camera, or her projection.

“What is it? Is the baby okay?” he asked.

“There’s a man in the front hall,” Millie hissed. “He’s just sitting there, browsing on his tablet or something. Did you hire someone to watch the front door?” So much for staying calm.

Fred’s frown deepened.

“It’s not safe for you to be alone, Mills, you’ve heard the rumours going around. He’s there to make sure you’re safe. That no one tries to use either of you to hurt me.”

“I’m not alone,” Millie snapped. The baby squirmed and took in a huffy breath before the little lungs started to wail. “There’s a whole staff here who won’t look me in the eye anymore, and if he was to keep me safe, why is he facing the inside of the house, FRED?” She rubbed Nils' tiny back, trying to soothe him. Calm, be calm.

The sounds of heavy feet coming up the stairs were not helping her regain her sense of calm.

“Because you haven’t been yourself since the baby was born,” Fred said back, his scowl going nowhere soon. “I don’t want you doing something stupid, Mills.  He’s there to keep you safe, end of discussion.”

"Fred-" Milliara said. The video blinked off. Call ended.

End of discussion.

A heavy knock on the door.

"You alright in there miss?" a stranger's voice. The man's accent was Nevarran. A stranger in truth, no strings to find, to pluck, to tease until she could have more freedom.

Milliara swallowed, hard.

"Fine," she lied. "Thank you."

The fire was lit in the kitchen, and Varian was drifting to sleep despite his best efforts to stay awake. Running away from a dragon took a lot of energy, no matter how large or small an elf was. Milliara had rummaged trhough the old store room and now a pot of beans was cooking on the fire, filling the kitchen with a warm molasses-y scent.

“Were you a keeper here? Or a hunter?” Varian asked, blinking heavy eyelids. “When you lived here?” He had his head on her lap, and Milliara was combing through his hair with determination to get the mats out. The boy needed a haircut, badly. But he didn’t appear to have lice, at least. 

“Me?” Milliara said, voice quiet. “No. No one important back then. I am now, but that was only because I left.”

At some point, Solas had pulled her back to his chest, and sandwiched between the boy elf and the apostate, Milliara had anchored herself in the present for the time being. There was something comforting about taking care of a small being, even if he wasn’t her son.

Poor Nils... when she saw him next she'd have to tell him about his father. How much should she tell him? When? At what age would it hurt least to find out your father had tried to kill your mother? At what age would it hurt least to find out your mother had killed your father instead?

“Why’d you leave?” Varian asked, stifling a yawn. “Cuz of the dragons?”

"No," Milliara said. "Not because of the dragons. There was a fire here, so I had to leave."

The doorknob was gone. Sleepy, with a tired three year old perched on her hip, Milliara reached for the doorknob in the dark of her room, and found nothing. Heart skipping a beat, she pressed her hand to the smooth brass panel where the knob had been earlier that day.

“Mamae, I’m thirsty” Nils mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Milliara swallowed the rising panic and kissed her son’s forehead.

“Call me Maman, baby. Remember? Papa doesn't like that other word. I’ll get you some water from the bathroom,” she said. “Okay? Then we go back to sleep.”

Milliara stood in the centre of her old bedroom, wondering how she'd gotten there. The lantern in her hand cast light over the carpet of beautiful clothes strewn across the room. Each garment was worth more than most Halamshiral elves would make in a year's worth of salary. If there were any Halamshiral elves left after Celene's purge. Worth so much and now she tracked snow and mud on them.

The clothes covered the large bed, the wooden floor, upturned drawers pulled from the antique dresser carved from mahogany. Jewelry was up-ended onto the vanity, piles of pearls and tangled pendants were next to smashed cosmetics and a shard of her old perfume bottle.

The scent still lingered, floral, spicy, reminding her of nights sipping champagne, of having her face shoved into pillows or- or of blood seeping down a silken dress.

This was not as she'd left it. This was destroyed. Everything she'd left in the race against time, destroyed. Because she hadn't been there when Fred had returned home from Sahrnia that night.

Nils was crying, and Milliara rocked him in her arms, sitting on the bed. He didn't see that she was staring at the wall in mute horror. Scorch marks climbed up the pristine cream paint and a circle of soot showed where flames had licked at the cieling. The curtains were singed, but had been far enough away from Nils that they hadn't caught flame. If they had, Milliara might not have been able to put the fire out in time.

Her son was bundled in a heavy blanket, swaddled like he had been when he was an infant.

It smothered the flames, but Milliara could feel the blistering of her left scalp where her hair was burnt away.

"I- I hurt- y-" Nils sobbed.

"Hush mon chou," Milliara murmured in a lullaby voice. She held him close. "I'm fine. You didn't hurt me. But Da'len, we need to keep this a secret right now, okay?"

A mage.

Nils was a mage.

And a mage had just destroyed kirkwall, sending it into riots.

A mage. With no Circles to train him. With apostates and templars slaughtering each other and anyone who got in their way. With Orlais teetering on the brink of civil war.

And Nils was a mage just like her fa-

Staring at the scorch mark on the wall, Milliara started to make a list of what they would need.

The burn mark was still there.

“Vehnan?”

Milliara's heart stopped. For a moment, the man behind her had been Fred. But Fred was gone. He was never coming back, no matter how often she dreamt of his hands around her throat, or of him spitting up blood onto her as he choked her out. He was gone.

“I’m okay,” she breathed, turning to look at Solas. In the dim light of the lantern she held, she could see his eye glow. Elven eye-shine. "I think." Milliara looked back to the room around her. Maybe she should have just let the fire burn back then. Gotten Nils to safety and just... let this prison go up in smoke.

“These were yours?” Solas asked, walking up next to her, his eyes passing over the ransacked belongings.

“No, they were His,” she said. She didn't need to say how 'he' was. "I was His to dress up and play house with. His Pet Elf."

Milliara reached out, catching Solas's hand in hers. The anchor in her palm thrummed at the touch. His magic always seemed to soothe the angry mark, but she didn't understand how he did it. No one else seemed to be able to.

“You freed yourself,” Solas said, closing his hand around hers with a small squeeze. Something in his voice caught, and tugged, at her. Remorse? Sadness? It was too hard to tell when she barely had a hold on her own thoughts.

“Are you truly alright?” He asked.

Milliara thought for a moment before she nodded.

“Not yet, but I will be,” she said. Setting the lantern down next to the pile of jewelry, she turned to slip her arms around Solas. He didn't smell like perfume, he smelled like molasses, beans and magic. Safe smells.

"We should return to Varian," She murmured against his chest, but made no move to break the embrace. Solas wrapped his arms around her, fingers gently brushing along her scalp.

"Varian sleeps for now," he murmured, lips by her ear. "He is safe. Just as you are safe tonight."

In films and stories, this was where the heroine would pull the hero into a deep and passionate kiss. She would be free from the horror of her past. But this wasn't a film, this was real and the soft sob caught Milliara unaware. She let it slip past her lips, and once gone, more followed until she clung to Solas, shoulders shaking.

He held her close, stroking her hair and murmuring soft comforts.

When they left in the morning, Milliara told herself, she was going to burn the whole thing down.