#market very ironically like is there any interest at all is this something another else would like

[presdestigatto]

…just curious, is there a market for sebchal non to dubcon a/b/o

[alpaca-clouds]

The Thing About Solarpunk Romance

Something that is quite interesting to me is a certain dualogy within the few novels that have been released for the genre is that there are basically two different kinds of novels there - and then there is Fox Hunt, but let me first talk about the novels there are.

Now, mind you. This list involves only novels that according to my information were written to be Solarpunk Fiction, rather than novels written at times before the invention of Solarpunk, that the label was later applied to. And these novels are:

The Biodome Chronicles by Jesikah Sundin (a Solarpunk vs Cyberpunk story)

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson (Solarpunk YA)

Foxhunt by Rem Wigmore (a Solarpunk action novel)

Seeds of the Swarm by Sim Kern (a story focusing on establishing Utopia)

Another Life by Sarena Ulibarri (kinda an anthology in a meta narrative and with a heavy philosophical focus)

When We Hold Each Other Up by Phoebe Wagner (a story about a Solarpunk society emerging after ecocide)

Now, it might be that I am overlooking some books here, especially as most Solarpunk publishing is happening within the context of Indie publishing and self publishing. So, if I do not hear about it through social media, I will probably not hear about it at all. And sure, I can go through Amazon and look at books tagged as "Solarpunk", but I am just guessing.

Outside of that, there is only the many, many anthologies that have been released, but I will not generally talk about them right now.

Now, I generally have the feeling that a lot of Solarpunk writers are like me: Oh, I have a story idea for a Solarpunk novel, but... I am not quite motivated to write it. Pretty much all writers I have been in contact with who were at some point writing a Solarpunk novel have put that project on pause to write something else. (Which is probably an issue for another day.)

But no, what I wanted to talk about is: Of those six books above I have read three so far. The first three. The first two I would actually categorize as romances. While both Biodome and Summer Prince involve of course the dystopia/utopia connundrum happening, they both have very much the same feel I would argue a lot of the dystopian YA novels that were released around the same time as those two novels (earlier half of the 2010s) had to me. Sure, there is a story, but in the end the books have a strong core in the main relationships.

Foxhunt also had a romance, but it really felt more tertiary to the plot and was not a focus of the story for the most part.

As I said, I have not read the other three novels yet. But yeah, this is what I can say about it. And I do wonder...

I am honestly not quite sure whether those first two novels were written as Solarpunk. I know that at the very least The Summer Prince was marketed under the tag, but that is pretty much where my knowledge ends.

It makes sense though, that those books came out at the time they did. They were just riding the dystopia high related by the Hunger Games, nothing else. And because of that there are the romance subparts there.

But here is the thing: In some way romance is a strange viability marker. No matter what kind of base idea exists, there is a romance subgenre that deals with it. Because no matter how much pretty much everyone derides the romance genre, it is actually the best selling genre of literature there is. If you look at the fiction genres, there is romance (including smut), then there is mystery/crime, then there is nothing, and then there is everything else in terms of both sales and the number of stories there is. Romance sells more books than fantasy or scifi can dream off. But at the same time Romance has crossover with pretty much every other genre, because Romance can happen in any genre.

Let's face it, the different between most superhero movies and a romance is the central focus of the story. You absolutely could restructure the Iron Man movies in a way to make them romance movies that happen to also feature one of the main couple to be a superhero.

And yes, there is a ton of superhero romance out there in the book market. Because no matter what concept there is: There is romance of it.

Now, I will openly admit: Cyberpunk is also a genre where at least the English and German market does not have a whole lot of romance. Sure, there is some, but not a whole lot. (Japanese Cyberpunk ironically has spawned a whole lot more romance - but again, a topic for a later date.)

But it is interesting to me. Romance is fairly accessible in terms of the SP market, and I note that it is interesting how there is little in terms of Solarpunk romance out there. Now there is the question: Is this because the main audience for Romance does not know much about Solarpunk - or because they don't gel with it.

I don't have the answer for this. But I cannot keep but wondering.

What do you think?

[smash-64]

2023 Game of the Year Countdown #9 Pokemon Scarlet Nintendo Switch, 2023

I am slightly reluctant to rate this game as highly as I do, but I realized something important: that reluctance is firmly aimed at the executives that rushed this game to market, not those who worked hard to make the game what it is. So let me get to what succeeds and what fails about this game, and wow do I have a lot to say. Let’s start with the bad.

We all know how poorly this game runs. Animations of characters, Pokemon, and the environment beyond the area immediately surrounding you runs at single digit frames per second. It’s actually shocking to see something like this on a modern console, especially when nothing appears to be overloading the game from a graphics standpoint. I’ve seen claims that the game is constantly animating an entire globe of ocean, even when you’re nowhere near the water, nor able to see it, which would obviously slow down the game. But it also is baffling because what could possibly be the point of that? As someone who doesn’t really care about graphics or FPS, you really have to screw things up for me to take notice and have an issue with it. But it’s egregious and unavoidable. You’ll run into issues within the first 20 minutes of playing the game.

While it’s nice to finally have an open world in Pokemon, the cities and towns suffer massively from being literal facades. We don’t need to be able to go inside every single building, but there are almost zero buildings you can actually enter at all. Shops are just menus. Most buildings are just for looks. It makes the towns and cities feel empty and pointless, with little character or substance. Sure, some have interesting colors or designs, but there’s often just nothing to do in any of them. That’s not to say that the old games were the epitome of perfection; Viridian City has very little to do, for example. But, there’s something to be said for having a few houses with NPCs or something. Most NPCs just have generic lines or you can’t even talk to them at all.

Speaking of NPCs, the trainers spread throughout the land feel really weird. It’s like someone literally placed them at random. I stumbled upon some of them in the middle of nowhere. It would have been nice to see them clustered around natural formations or crossroads. There also aren’t very many of them. I found myself forgetting that other trainers even existed at times. 

One very odd thing about Scarlet is that you can’t re-challenge the Elite Four once you’ve beaten them. This seems supremely odd, as you’ve always been able to challenge them again. Usually, they even have improved teams. There is no Battle Tower, either. Instead, you do get a fairly fun Academy Ace Tournament, but it feels lacking when you look at what else there could have been. It would have been nice to have something akin to Pokemon Stadium, with multiple Cups representing a sort of progression of skill. Another missed opportunity.

My last gripe is something I’ve been disappointed with for many years and multiple generations: battle gimmicks. First it was Mega Evolution, then Dynamaxing, and now Terastallization. Z Moves I was actually okay with because it felt like finally having a game version of when Ash tells Pikachu to like…do a backflip while using Iron Tail for extra damage or something. You can also only do it once per battle, so it felt quite a bit less impactful. The rest are all really dumb, in my opinion. They make the entire metagame focus on the new gimmick that won’t stick around and shifts focus from just the actual Pokemon and their moves and type advantages and Idk just…regular battling. I’ve been so annoyed with these gimmicks and constantly let down each and every time we get a new generation because they’re obsessed with this nonsense.

Ok, that’s about the end of my complaints. I got a bit ranty on that last one! I do enjoy quite a few things about this game, however.

As some know, I speak Spanish and lived in Spain for a short time while in college. It was a highlight of my life and my friends will never hear the end of stories that start with “when I was in Spain.” So to have a region based on Spain was something that hyped me up so much for this game. 

I really appreciate the art direction and design of the region of Paldea. The eye-catching mosaics found throughout the region reflect things like Gaudi’s benches in Barcelona, and are bright in color. Buildings often share similar architecture to real buildings and cities in Spain, with the most prominent being the Sagrada Familia and the Pokemon Academy, but many others are also apparent, if not specifically, than in general style. I really loved walking the streets of the different towns because many reminded me of my time in Spain. Windmills are all over one mountain, designed to resemble those from Don Quijote, but also reminded me of a few clusters of modern windmills found on a chain of mountains on the highway near Burgos. It’s clear the designers did a lot of homework.

Beyond just the architecture, the geography of Paldea was also very reminiscent of Spain, especially the areas around Cortondo. I spent most of my leisure time in the game in and around this town. The olive groves, high sun overhead, the bounding Mareeps, and slowly floating Hoppips in the area are essentially my Pokemon heaven. Give me some queso manchego and a good tempranillo and I’d never leave. 

It’s moments like these that remind me of the good parts of the game. The Hoppip that float leisurely by, and the fluffy little Mareep that get curious about you, coming close to inspect you and then lightly bouncing around you are just two examples of the sort of life that the animators and artists breathed into Paldea and I think it would be rude to ignore them. Pokemon has always been about the moments we create and the importance we derive from those moments. For some, it’s surviving with 1 HP in a key gym battle. For others, it’s catching a shiny with the last Poke Ball. For me, it has become just enjoying the scenery with my favorite Pokemon. 

Character designs are also a high point, and one of the things Pokemon has consistently delivered on. We’ve had fantastic designs for a long time, even when the overall games themselves might be a bit lackluster. Caty, being a bug type gym leader, has hair that resembles spun silk. Levincia is as annoying as you’d expect from a high-energy streamer. I just like seeing so many unique characters in games, and they all stand out in their own ways. The Pokemon are also generally well designed this generation, something that I don’t often say. We finally get a dolphin Pokemon, and then they screw it up by making it a lame superhero, but that’s one of the few I actively dislike. Smoliv is great and I would die for Lechonk. 

Area Zero is a really fun postgame adventure, although it’s a bit short. I like how the music adds a bit of wonder and mystery to it all, and the addition of tons of high level Pokemon reminds me a bit of Cerulean Cave from Kanto. I was also partial to the fact that the first group of Pokemon I encountered asked me for a Pepsi.

The sound design is another success of the game, with plenty of solid music throughout. I especially enjoyed Nemona’s themes and the Pokemon Ace Academy theme is quite possibly the greatest and most fitting battle tune in the history of Pokemon. I once called Marnie’s theme my favorite, but this might rival it. I can’t think of a better example of combining big battle pressure with big friendly competition. It has high energy, but also feels grand in scale without heaping pressure on you like other great battle tunes do. Can’t say I’m a big fan of Ed Sheeran, though.

Overall, I enjoyed my time with Scarlet, perhaps leaning a bit heavily on the Spanish inspiration and my own nostalgia to reach that conclusion. But, I also desperately wish that Pokemon would just slow it down. Release a game that works and feels complete, but that doesn’t burn your employees out. We typically see 6-7 years between Zelda titles, but Pokemon has been on a 2-3 year schedule for quite a while now.

[fyx-ation]

A Meandering Ramble on FFXVI

Firstly, if you haven't played the game yet or haven't finished the game yet, I suggest scrolling on. If you want a recommendation to play it, the best I can give you is a 7/10. Worth playing. Not the best thing on the market in the same territory but refreshing (I might use that word a lot going forward) and holds interest very well. Like a page-turner of a book.

That said, the rest of my ramble will be behind the cut to spare spoiling others.

Huh. What a strange little game. I actually just finished it, though I do need to go finish the chronolith things at some point. But I wanted to strike while the iron is hot, so this might be all over the place. I usually try to provide some essay-like structure when I write about a game... But I'm not really feelin' it since I've been working 5am shifts for a while and my brain is fried.

I have not read or watched any other reviews or summaries or impressions of the game. I didn't want my opinion to be tainted by bias because some creator or another loved or hated it.

It is Very Pretty. But perhaps not in a PS5 sort-of rock your eyeballs way. It handles like the Witcher III and Final Fantasy had an off-putting love-child. By that, I mean just the walking around and interacting with things reminds me of Witcher. Casual conversations are overheard from NPCs, and occasionally one that will actually speak to you (Clive) even if they aren't offering a quest or incentive. Facial animations, weather/landscape animations. Very Pretty but maybe a smidge outdated? How is that possible? Everything is lovely! But a little stiff if it's not an important, scripted, you-can't control your character here, sort of scene. The ones that aren't separately rendered cutscenes but still have extra polish? Yeah, not those.

You know what else this game reminds me of? Mass Effect (or Dragon Age). There's no open world to explore. There are pocket maps that you can return to from your Normandy Hideaway, but usually you're just sent there to do a mission quest or hunt or something.

So, let's deconstruct that a little. I think and hope that the producers of this game looked at what has been working and what has landed with the fan-base like a sopping wet diaper. Open world fatigue? Absolutely real. Stamina bars? Fuck right off. Pacing the game out with enormous, unskippable BS like a car ride because the plot is paper thin? Nope!

Does it work for a Final Fantasy game, though? See, this is where the conversation gets choppy. (While I didn't interact with reviews, I did see some plumes of smoke on the horizon in the form of thumbnails and the like). Some people are ride or die "this ain't MY final fantasy." Worse, some are like "this isn't a JRPG q_q."

Personally, I let that ship sail years ago. I loved the old turn-based games, don't get me wrong. I lament there aren't that many on the market anymore. But I've moved on. 16 is probably the biggest departure so far from that. Excluding the online games, they've been moving away from that format since 12. 13 was the last to have party members who you can actually control. (I'm not counting the 7 remake here, either) 16 doesn't have a party system. You can't swap Thane Krios (my space boyfriend) in when you fast travel from your hideaway to the next story beat. It's just the protag and whatever side piece is relevant at the moment, and that side character just does their own thing.

Do I like it? Ehh.... yes and no. Clive doesn't talk to himself or them much, so I feel like a lot more banter was needed. I could see why they left it out on the battle maps ("Hey, Clive, remember when were playing checkers and mom kicked the board because oh hello Mr. Behemoth."). But in city hubs? More banter, please. Even more conversations like the newer God of War games have would be most welcome.

And controlling just Clive? It's fine. I am A-okay with it. Combat's really fun, even when I'm not playing at my best and half-dozing on the couch. It's better than holding down the circle button (15 shaming is my kink). It's all amazingly refreshing in comparison to SE's other departures from turn-based battles. It's the first one so far (again excluding ff7r) to actually succeed at doing something different.

But I would not recommend the game to anyone on that alone. If they were looking for a hack n' slash pew pew magic pew game, I'd suggest the newer God of Wars first.

This is where I'm on the fence about how to judge the game as a whole because it isn't SPECTACULAR. It's good. Combat's good. Story is decent. Side characters are interesting (though some are woefully under-cooked, including Jill, whom I often compared to a piece of cardboard while talking to friends). Pacing a HUGE improvement from previous installments, though the last few hours of the game are weirdly smooshed into sidequests which aren't really sidequests because they are invaluable to the story and the game expects you to do them.

However. The world-building, which is very nice, is padded with lore directories just to clarify shit to people who have no idea what the fuck is going on or who have maybe missed or forgotten details that flesh out the motivations of everyone on the two continents. Did you forget who was fighting who while Clive was was off kicking boxes? Boy, do we have the right solution for that: it's LORE DUMP MAN and his faithful sidekick MAP TIMELINE WOMAN. I'm not saying they are bad things... just... odd. Heavy-handed? I love it when games offer some sort of journal to keep me on track or remind me of things, and yet they feel like they were put in this game because things are a bit blurry for the first third. They throw a lot of names at you, a lot of factions, and a lot of talk of different battles that you don't even witness so the only way to clarify all that is to be given Baby's First Overview. I think that might be indicative of a small failing on the game's part. Lots of telling with little showing often leads to lore dumps in RPGs, because it's critical that you understand for the sake of the story. Weirdly, there actually aren't a lot of exposition dumps in the actual gameplay. I guess they couldn't find a happy medium.

It's late. Gotta get up at 4, so I'll bring this ramble to a close for now. I'll talk about tone and themes later, probably.

Is it worth $70 and satisfying? Mostly. If you like button mashing combat and fantasy, sure. If you're a die-hard FF person, sure, but bolster your expectations as it doesn't really fit that mold. Anyone else that's curious, I'd say wait for a sale or promotion.

TBC

[hircines-hunter]

Writing Patterns/First 10 Lines Game

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern! (If you don't have 10, do as many as you have!)

Tagged by @vivifriend ! I love this a lot. But I added the first paragraph. It just gives more context and is more interesting. I’m bad at seeing patterns but if you see anything let me know lol.

There’s also a really long collection/series where the latest part just spoils a lot so, I just added the first line from the very first part!

Also, quite possibly obsessed with making LDBs. 😊

Going to tag @madamefluffnstuff @wildhexe @bostoniangirl21 and anyone else (no rush or pressure)

1. Roar of a Wolfborn - Skyrim ; LDB x Farkas

Sifkni’s feet carried her far from her home. Far from everything she’d known. Everything she loved. It didn’t matter anymore. Her heart dropped. What was she going to do now? Everyone was gone.

2. Sivaas - Skyrim ; Werewolf OC x Brynjolf

The dark skinned Bosmer wandered the market stalls in the middle of Riften’s town circle. She perused the wares at each stall, wondering where each of the items were originally procured from. Sure, she could ask where they got the items from but there was no fun in that. She brushed her orange hair behind her ear.

3. Encounters - Elder Scrolls Online ; OC x Zeira

It was a typical sunny and hot day in Abah’s Landing. Aurelia Proxima, an Imperial noble currently residing in the desert, sat in her study. She, however, was not studying. She enjoyed watching the streets below and the study had the best vantage point.

4. The Amazing Adventures and Tales of the Dovahkiin, Elja Iron-Breaker - Skyrim ; LDB x Isran

This journal belongs to Elja Iron-Breaker. If found, please burn the journal.

5. Blessings of the Moons - Skyrim ; OC x OC

Finnki wandered around the entrance of a cave that she cleared of bandits. She made sure she had finished her job before she returned home to Whiterun. The area seemed clear. No traces of living bandits. It would give peace of mind to travelers in the area. She didn’t want any stragglers to stumble about and catch her off guards. It truly seemed peaceful once more.

6. Vestige Liselle Encounters Another Prince ft. Dragons (and Mudcrabs / Just a Ruin (and mudcrab) Advocate - Elder Scrolls Online ; Vestige x Abnur Tharn

I’ve been away from home for so long. I’ve been trekking throughout Hammerfell. The climate is so vastly different from home, but it has its charms and the clothing there is actually comfortable. Breathable.

7. Shadows Preserve Us - Skyrim ; OC x Mercer Frey

Ragna leaned against the damp wood wall of the local tavern, The Bee and the Barb, flipping a coin in her hand. She kept an eye on the busy market. Some of the patrons stood out. She needed to look for someone to help. Help find a rat.

8. Frostfalls of Solstheim - Skyrim ; LDB x Miraak

Do you ever feel like something isn’t right? You do all you can to live and survive. You have a place to live and a family whether they’re blood or not. They’re still family.

But something is calling you.

You need to find ‘home’.

9. Mists of Sovngarde - LDB x Kodlak

Kaetilvi, Dragonborn, Thane of Whiterun, sat on the stairs to the Skyforge next to Jorrvaskr. The Nord woman had a long day of fighting a dragon and once she set foot in the city, to the mead hall it was to drink. And drink she did. She swayed in her seat as she hummed a song, occasionally a string of slurred lyrics would come out.

10. Saga of a Talos worshiping Shield-maiden - Blades ; OC x Henrik

I need to keep certain things about myself discreet lest this fall into the wrong hands. Especially after the war. Especially the mockery of ‘peace’ the Aldmeri Dominion is parading around. Praising. Hunting. Torturing

[goldaegontargaryen]

“I’ll have you know that I was trained to hold a knife by some of the best knights in the Kingdom,” Aegon protested.  “Though to be honest, I think the main point I got out of all of their teaching was that the important part was to stab someone else and not yourself.”  Aegon had been a more dedicated fighter when he was younger, but he’d lost interest in the activity in his later teen years.  Drinking and partying had come to the forefront of his interests and his frustration at his younger brother’s skill steadily surpassing his own hadn’t made the activity any more enjoyable when he was continually being shoved into the dirt.  Still, he mimicked the way Dalton gripped the stolen knife with his own, easily able to feel the difference in the security of the hold.  “Okay, maybe there actually is something to this after all,” he conceded, putting the knife back under his cloak.

Despite what they’d just endured, Aegon couldn’t keep the bounce out of his step as he entered the market.  He had never taken great joy in shopping as some did, but he loved the chaos of the different merchants yelling out advertisements for their wares, the bright colors from imported silks and items from around the world, and the press of people around him as they moved throughout the square.  Aegon loved to watch people go past, imagining what life might be like for each person who caught his eye.  Today though, he was more than happy to follow Dalton to wherever he wanted to go, chuckling softly when their first stop was at a vendor selling fresh pie.  Aegon grabbed and paid for a slice for himself after Dalton, following his friend’s gaze as it zeroed in on a man selling weapons, many that appeared to be from Essos.  

He watched as Dalton haggled with the man over the price, though he didn’t understand what the two were saying.  The only thing he could gather was that the man’s price was exorbitantly high from the frustrated expression on Dalton’s face as he argued.  He was slightly surprised when Dalton suddenly spun around and grabbed his shoulders, begging him to buy the curved sword for him.  Secretly, Aegon probably would have gotten the sword for Dalton if he had simply asked. He already considered Dalton a friend and there was very little Aegon wouldn't do for his friends, especially for a request as small as this. However, the additional promises had certainly helped. “You saved my life.  The least I can do is buy this weird curved sword for you.  How is that even used properly anyway?”  Aegon didn’t recognize it at first glance, but to be fair, he didn’t know much about the lands across the Narrow Sea.  “But I’m holding you to the promise of another sailing trip.  I’m not sure if Helaena would want to sail, but I’ll ask her.”

The vendor was eyeing him closely as Aegon approached, clearly having witnessed Dalton’s conversation with him.  Aegon pointed to the strange curved sword.  “How much?”

As expected, the price he received was ridiculously high.  Aegon pointed back towards Dalton.  “That’s Dalton Greyjoy, lord of the Iron Islands.  He’s here for the Queen’s coronation along with his entire family.  That means all 22 wives and the majority of his children and the crews of their ships.  Do you know what Greyjoys and Iron Islanders love more than anything else in the world?  Weapons.  Do us a favor and give us that at a discounted price as a sign of good faith and your shop will be overrun with Iron Islanders stocking up for their next raid.  You sell out of weapons that I’m fairly certain the average Westerosi citizen has no interest in and we get a decent price on this.  I’ll even throw in a prince’s favor from me.”  Aegon gave the man his most charming smile.

Moments later, Aegon was returning to Dalton with the weird sword in hand having paid a slightly ridiculous, but more fair sum than had been originally proposed. He passed it over to Dalton.  “Here you are.  You might have to send a few of your children and wives to get weapons from him, but I think he’ll be willing to be more lenient when he sees how much business you can bring in.” 

The Red Keep, 129 AC. With: @goldaegontargaryen

The only good thing about being forced to stay inside the Red Keep was that Dalton could sleep as much as he wanted. He didn't have much to do in the first place, so he stayed in his chambers and slept at any moment for as long as he wanted and no one would bat an eye. Dalton's sleep was obviously interrupted anyways.

The door of his chambers opened, but Dalton stayed unbothered. He was cuddling with Lysa; his body behind her, head hiding on her neck. So oddly peaceful that it became suspicious. Until someone started touching his face.

—I know you are awake. —Tess' familiar voice made him hide even harder in Lysa's hair. She noticed he heard her and continued. — I punched Genna.

—Deserved —Lysa murmured.

—Why? —Dalton knew Genna Lannister wasn't in good terms with most if not all of his wives, but Dalton enjoyed her honesty and Genna always had good gossip.

—She was being a bitch, like always, so I punched her. —Tess made a pause and Dalton thought she would leave him alone. —Her father saw the black eye and now thinks you did it. He's coming here and he looked really mad. He kept screaming he was going to murder you... You should probably leave.

Usually Dalton would laugh at the idea of one of his in-laws wanting to kill him. Today he knew Lord Lannister meant it. He got up and put on a long black coat to hide the fact he was wearing his nightgown. He hid two knives under his belt just in case and kissed Lysa goodbye before leaving her in the room.

—You should find Genna, apologize and ask her to clear the situation. —Tess rolled her eyes, but Dalton knew she would do it.

Three weeks trapped inside the Red Keep meant Dalton was running out of places to hide. He wished he could find one of King Maegor's secret tunnels, he definitely needed it right now. « Any Targaryen would know them. » Luckily, Dalton knew one.

—Where is prince Aegon? —He asked one of the Red Keep's servants and soon enough he was guided to his chambers.

Dalton knocked on the door and opened it. He turned around to make sure no one followed him and closed the door shut. He let out a sigh of relief and finally acknowledged Aegon. Dalton wasn't sure how to explain the situation. He wasn't sure if he wanted to explain it in the first place. The man's sister almost died. If any of his sisters were poisoned, Dalton would have gone crazy. So he tried to appear calm and collected while leaning against the wall.

—You never told me if you got to insult your father one last time.

[bokettochild]

For the fluff prompt thing, how about Time and Hyrule? Maybe something with fairies? Thanks!

I did some Fairy Hyrule for you, Anon!

Sorry I didn't get this done sooner, I've been busier than I expected since I opened up asks. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted!

Time is safe.

When first he’d met all the other heroes, Hyrule had felt wary and uncertain. After all, it’s only in the castle and Mama’s cave that he’s ever known safety, and strangers are nearly always bad news if they’re being friendly with him.

And these strangers were very friendly.

Most of them had greeted him with smiles when he’d been dropped into their camp, their explanation being that a goddess of some kind wanted him to help them with something. Hyrule had never heard much about any goddesses, although he’d seen a statue or two in his travels, but most of the other people here seemed to know what was up, and they were only too eager to tell him.

And by too eager, he meant too eager. They were entirely too friendly with a stranger, and only two of them seemed interested in giving him his space: the one with the pink stripe in his hair and the one with lots of armor. He learns their names first: Legend and Time.

Legend is just as wary of him as he is of Legend, but Time... Time stares after him blankly, unreadable. Even so, the exotic taste of curiosity rolls across his tongue as a single royal blue orb stares at him, heavy and yet weightless.

Time is warm. Warm in a way that Hylians don’t know, that only the forest people and animals know. He is Safe, he is Comfort, and he is Known. Hyrule doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know what makes the older hero so, but he finds that he is drawn to the man’s side, that he leeches comfort from him.

“Again?” The vet’s violet gaze is flat, but Time can see the warmth in it regardless.

During the night, Hyrule has become wrapped around Time as tightly as a limpet, and as the Vet stands over the two of them, looking down at where Time attempts to free himself from Hyrule’s grasp, he chuckles softly.

“Kid has an iron grip.” Time offers apologetically as he falls back on his bedroll, Hyrule’s sleeping form still clinging to him. “Sorry, legend, I don’t think I can take over watch as planned.”

The vet smirks. “Yeah, no. Rest, Old Man, he’s not letting you go until morning when he turns fairy pink when he wakes up.”

And Legend’s right, when Hyrule wakes up the next morning that is exactly what he does when Warriors starts teasing him, and while Time reassures the youngster that he doesn’t mind all that much, Hyrule looks utterly mortified.

“I don’t do that, not normally. It’s not safe to sleep close to other people.” The traveler whispers to legend on the road that day.

His mentor glances over at him knowingly. “Only people you don’t trust. Hasn’t Time earned your trust yet?”

“Has he earned yours?” Bushy brows pull together as Hyrule looks down at his friend.

Legend snorts a laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets absently. “Of course not, but I don’t really trust most folks, not about myself anyways. But you? You’re my successor, and if there’s one person I’d trust to look out for you if I couldn’t, it’d be the guy in a giant suit of armor who wields a sword that’s bigger than me. Least ways, he’s the least likely to get you killed.”

And Hyrule Knows, knows with a capitol ‘k’, that that means one thing in short: Legend trusts Time and Hyrule both, and he trusts both of them to take care of each other. That’s all he needs. Legend isn’t called the vet for nothing after all, and from what the two of them have seen, their worlds are the worst off and most dangerous, so if they both agree that Time is someone to be trusted, then he’s safe.

A whispering voice in his mind tells him he knew that already.

He’s woken up clinging to Time so many times in the morning, even if he wasn’t anywhere near the man when he fell asleep, that he’s given up trying to avoid it. Time seems to appreciate the warmth and contact as much as he does anyways, and the man always looks lighter in the mornings.

Hyrule wishes he was there now, curled up under Time’s arm and resting his head against the older man’s chest, breath coming deep and soft as sleep slowly seeps its way across his body. He wishes he was back in camp, holding on tight to someone and leaching heat off of them with a contented sigh. He wishes he could free his wings and rest against Time’s side while drinking sugar water and listening to the melodic hum of Time’s voice.

But he isn’t there. He isn’t with Time or the others. He’s stranded in Legend’s Hyrule, hiding out in the entrance to a dungeon with Four curled close to his side, the both of the shaking in the cold and wet as rain seeps down through the dungeon door to puddle at their feet.

It’s cold, and wet, and dark.

But at least the monsters can’t find them.

It’d been the work of mere minutes to defeat all the monsters in the room, and while they have a key and tool to pass on through the dungeon, that’s not their intent; the two small heroes just want a place out of sight and out of the rain while they figure out what to do.

Four sneezes.

“Did any of the others mention a camping spot?” Hyrule muses aloud, leaning back against the cold stone walls that line the room and trying to ignore the running of his own nose, or the puffiness of his face.

“Kakariko.” Four sniffles, rubbing his face and arms and fingers in an effort to warm up. “They said it was a couple hours yet though.”

Great. They’d fallen to the back of the group when Four had seen two minish trying to help one of their wounded friends over to a burrow. Naturally, Four had offered them help, and Hyrule had trailed along so Four wouldn’t be alone.

The minish village was only a quick dart away from the path, but by the time they had got back, they had found that the others had moved on and a couple ‘blins stood on the path instead. It took a bit of effort to kill the monsters, but once they were done and continued along the path, one thing after another had gone wrong, and they’d been left here; cold, alone, and with no way to hunt down the others in the sopping wet of the storm outside.

Four sneezed again.

“We need to find them.” Hyrule whispers softly, even though in the big room he knows that Four will hear it too. He doesn’t care. He’s cold and tired and his feet hurt from being cold and standing on stone floors for so long, and he really wants to be warm and safe again.

“We can’t.” Four sniffles softly, brows drawn in irritation as he wipes his nose for the nth time. “They didn’t leave a trail we can follow, and besides, they’re probably already looking for us, it’s been a few hours.”

“How will they find us if we’re in here though?”

“We churned up actual mountains of dirt to get in here when that Like-Like chased us down, they’ll notice.”

A smile flits across his face, even in their predicament, he can’t resist a light jab at his brother. “Were they actually mountains though? Or did they just look like it?”

Bright blue shimmers up at him. “I will come for your ankles if you say that again.”

Hyrule’s grin grows, and he’s about to respond, about to tell Four that of course it’s his ankles, the shorter hero can’t reach anything else, but then something brushes his senses. Something Safe, and Warm and Known.

“Time.”

“We haven’t even started fighting yet.” Four cocks a brow.

“No, Time’s coming.” Hyrule’s feet carry him to the door, steps light and head cocked on one side as if he was listening.

He’s not sure how he knows, how he feels it, but he does. Time is close, he’s getting closer every minute and-

Hyrule throws the door open and rockets into the warmth and safety that is Time’s arms, sighing in contentment as something within purrs happily at the closeness of the older man. Time is Safe. Time is Warm and Time is Known.

Warriors’ Hyrule is big.

The towns are bigger than anything Hyrule’s ever seen, even Hyrule Castle itself, and don’t get him started on the cities!

Hyrule felt very small standing in the market of Castletown.

People bustled to and fro, baskets on their arms, carts at hand, children and animals trailing behind and dust dirt and NOISE following them. It was really getting to be too much, and Hyrule was going to wear out the hem of his tunic in no time with the way he was rubbing at it.

Wars led the way through the town confidently, stopping to greet people and make exchanges as the rest of them followed after. Hyrule really wished Wars had agreed to take the non-suffocating and anxiety triggering path to Hyrule Castle, but he hadn’t said as much and Wars had already said they needed supplies.

It would be fine; he could hold out a bit longer. He couldn’t.

The others followed Warriors’ lead, Sky keeping holf of Legend and Four both while Wind kept close to Wild. It was important they didn’t let the smaller members of their party be caught up in the crowd, but some of them looked torn between hating being watched like kids, and taking comfort in the security of it all.

Oh man, Hyrule would love nothing more than to switch places with them. Sky was always warm and safe, even if he was mighty trusting, and Twilight’s big hands always enveloped everyone else's so that they felt secure in knowing they wouldn’t be pulled away.

Delicate fingers unconsciously reached out and caught hold of the hand beside them.

Time started at the contact, gaze traveling quickly down to where Hyrule’s small hand had caught hold of his own, broken nails and calloused finger pads clutching tightly against his own weathered skin. The traveler hung close, tucked in on himself and shying away for contact with strangers.

The image of a small boy dressed in green trying to weave through a bustling town, his fairy hidden in his hat so she wouldn’t be lost as he was jostled and knocked into by strangers and possible enemies and people who stared and watched and bumped.

Time clasped the hand in his a bit firmer, watching with satisfaction as Hyrule’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

Warm. Safe. Known.

Time gasped awake, eyes flying wide open as harsh breaths surged through his lungs to catch in his throat and make him gasp for air. He didn’t know at what point he’d sat up, didn’t know when he’d turned his gaze over to survey their camp, blue eyes trailing over sleeping forms and mind frantically counting the young heroes around him.

Wind curled up on top of Wars.

Two.

Four nestled between Twilight and Wild (a good place, they both slept hot).

Five.

Hyrule curled up next to Legend’s empty bedroll, Sky just a few feet away, lost in the folds of his sail-cloth.

Seven.

Legend, sitting with his back to the flames as he watched Time, sword bare across his equally bare knees.

Eight.

“You okay, old man?” The vet raised one brow, expression almost judgemental if you didn’t know him, eyes lidded and scowl set.

Time didn’t answer. Shivers wracked his frame, cloudiness refusing to leave his mind as his thoughts and emotions swirled within.

Safe. Home. Safe. Home.

He wanted to be safe. He wanted to be home. He wanted to blink awake in his own treehouse with Navi scolding him for sleeping in, and then run down to the fields to play with Malon and Epona.

He wanted Navi to pinch his ear and tell him that he should have known better than to sleep without a blanket.

He wants Navi to curls up in his hair and Sing.

Time doesn’t process what he’s doing, but Legend watches in surprise as the man grips ahold of his blanket and softly creeps over to the others. Legend’s empty bedroll is as cold and firm as a rock, but Time doesn’t seem to even notice that it’s there, curling up around Hyrule with a sigh that says he’s not entirely awake.

Soft lights shimmer over the pair as Time drifts off again, the creases of his brow smoothing as the warm and constant buzz of Hyrule’s soft snores washes over him.

Legend sighs, stretching his legs and looking up at the sky.

He’ll just sleep on Time’s bedroll tonight he supposes.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 17

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

One of the advantages of being a photographer — or a self-taught photographer in your case — is having the ability to acquire an eidetic memory. You remembered the hat that the little bitch (a four-year old) was wearing when she pushed you off the swings in daycare, or the little stain on your father's doctor's lab coat when your family had to rush him to the hospital, or what Peter was wearing the day you guys first met (some oversized flannel he borrowed from Bucky), or the look on your ex-boyfriend's face when you punched him in the face for cheating on you.

The attention to every pretty little detail is, and always will be, a must, and so not remembering where you had seen Bucky before killed you, or rather, was killing you.

It was a normal morning, well, better than your normal mornings to say the least, with Bucky spending the night in your bed. This time, you woke up first, all wrapped in nothing but sheets and Bucky's arms just like yesterday. You rolled over to his side and admired him in his sleep. Then, sudden flashes of Bucky's face from before flooded your memory. You didn't know when exactly was before. It felt like a kind of a deja vu moment.

While eating Bucky's homemade breakfast, in your mind, you listed all the possible places where you could've seen him before: a café, a bar you once went to in college, a bookstore, a museum, a convivial gathering, a convenience store, and any other places you could've bumped into him.

The morning grew unusually quiet and clouded, eliciting concern from Bucky.

"You seem awfully quiet this morning." He observed. "Are you alright, doll?"

"Y-yes, I am."

"Uh-oh, was the sex not great last night?" He joked, nudging his elbow against yours.

You shook your head, trying to smile a little. Thankful that Bucky was trying to keep everything light. "No, no, it was great. You were great. It's just... I'm just quite anxious for today."

Today, you were going to Sam's office and to his store on Fifth Street, to discuss the details about the project. It wasn't what you had in your mind this morning but as you told Bucky about it, you realized you really were getting a bit nervous about the meeting. It was a big deal, after all.

Sam's business, The Falcons, was getting more recognition than you thought. He was now in near competition with Nike and Adidas, especially with the rumors of him releasing brand-new footwear, that could — and you quote one of the articles you read while on break — “overthrow the big leagues.” That alone, already put you in the spotlight. So, whatever you put out there should only be a success, and not a flop; because if it were a failure, you wouldn't only be humiliating yourself, but Bucky as well.

"You're gonna do great!" He assured you. "Plus, it's just a meeting. You two already seem to have a grasp on the project, anyway."

"Yeah." You sighed. "You're right."

You wanted to ask Bucky if you had ever, ever, met each other before — perhaps during a party where you’ve rescued Peter before? — but you bit your tongue to stop yourself. You already did when you met, anyway. And everything was going great between the two of you — whatever the hell this was; besides, labels are overrated nowadays — and you didn't want to say anything or do anything that could potentially ruin it. You were beyond happy in your little bubble, and you could tell Bucky was, too.

You brushed all those thoughts at the back of your mind as you and Bucky strolled through Sam's building's hallways, ironically telling yourself it was all just in your head, that you were just quite edgy about this damn meeting, that you were just thinking about Bucky all the damn time; and the more you told these things to yourself, the more you believed it, and the more you hoped you would never have these thoughts again.

Today, you wore something a bit different than what you usually wore down at the bar. A blazer and pants set, adorned with black and white stripes, a tube top inside, and a white belt that kept the blazer on your sides. You got the set when you and Bucky were out shopping on Monday, of course, Bucky paid for it no matter how many times you refused. Your hair was let down, all the ends flowing down your shoulders until the bottom of your breasts. Lips painted bright red (which Bucky really, really liked). A bit of shimmer on your eyelids as well.

Today was a huge deal and you wanted to look your best.

Bucky kept his hand on the small of your back the whole time you walked, giving a sense of comfort and familiarity you now learned to be fond of. He told the story of how he met Sam (at a bar, where else?), how he had seen him grow in the industry (all the ups and downs), and also how they've always supported each other — the three of them.

"Wait, the three of you?" You asked. "There's another one?"

Bucky almost wanted to stop in his tracks but decided against it. He avoided your gaze, his eyes straight down the hallway. "Yes, but we've fallen apart." He said. "He has his own thing now. Anyway, let's not talk about it. We have more important things to deal with today."

Before you could even ask what the name of this third friend was, Sam appeared at the end of the hallway, with his arms wide open, like a king opening his arms to his heir. Bucky, without leaving your side, proceeded to hug Sam only using his free arm, "Hey, man," he said, and retreated back afterwards.

On the other hand, you shook Sam's hand and gave him a smile.

"Hi, Sam." You greeted. "Nice to see you again."

"You too... y/n." Sam replied, hiding a smirk you knew he was itching to show, hiding the fact that he wanted to mock Bucky by calling you "babydoll."

"You guys made it in time." He said. "Come with me to the conference hall."

Sam led you to his right where a white long table stood in the middle with a bunch of vacant office chairs around. A projector sat on the center of the table, a series of displays of sports apparel lying around, perfectly organized by color. A blonde woman had her back on you, flipping papers on a clipboard. Once she heard you come in, she swiveled around and put the clipboard on the table.

"Y/n, this is Sharon Carter, my assistant and the project manager assigned for this new release." Sam spoke. "She knows everything there is to know about how my business works, all the ins and outs. And if in any case I won't be around, you can always rely on her."

"Hi, nice to meet you." You said.

Sharon Carter, instead of answering verbally, just offered you a smile and a small nod. Her gaze shifted towards Bucky, and then Sam. "Mr. Wilson, does he need to be here?"

"Always a pleasure to see you, Sharon." Bucky chuckled.

Sharon ignored him and continued to talk to Sam; well, tried to. "All the details in today's meeting are confidential and he — "

"He's good, Sharon." Sam cut her off. "I doubt he'll be interested in this, anyway. He's just here for his... doll." Sam chortled and Bucky winked and clicked his tongue in response. "Besides, he's the one who introduced me to y/n."

Sharon sighed in defeat and tried to smile at her boss. "Very well then."

"Please, take a seat." Sam offered, leading you towards the vacant chairs.

While walking towards the chairs, Bucky bent over on your side and whispered: "Don't worry, she's usually like that" which gave you relief.

"Good," you whispered back, "for a moment there, I thought she hated my guts."

"To be fair, she usually hates everyone's guts. Especially mine." Then, he placed a small kiss on your temple before pulling out a chair for you. "You'll do great, doll."

"Alright," Sharon started, glaring at Bucky, "shall we begin?"

The meeting lasted longer than you had liked it to be, and for a little while, it suddenly became an understanding of the difference between working with small, independent businesses and big businesses such as Sam's. Usually, you had a lot of artistic upper hand when it came to the small ones, seeing as they were still starting — and it was also where your college degree came in handy. You would talk to them about advertising, and marketing strategies through product photography. And that was that. But Sam's business already had something to start with.

Something already big.

In the middle of the presentation, Bucky reached for your hand under the table (which took you by surprise), hooking his pinky into yours.

"Just hold my pinky like this if this is too overwhelming for you." He whispered.

"Why the pinky?"

He just shrugged in response, a smile playing on his lips.

Sharon walked you all the way through it, careful not to miss any kind of detail, small or big: from the moment the business started (Sam working in retail, then reselling clothes, then making streetwear designs of his own until he landed on sporting apparels), and to what made the business grow what it is right now.

"Inclusivity." She continued, clicking on the next slide, "This is what The Falcons is going to be all about. Plus-size workout clothes, a huge array of colors suited for every skin tone — literally any color you can think of. We also have workout clothes and streetwear in one which means new designs and new materials. And of course, the new footwear. Bringing the light in speed, bringing new comfort, a new aesthetic, footwear for all. Again, inclusivity. Right in front of you," she pointed to all the sports apparel lying on the table, "are the new designs. We just received the first batch yesterday and we're expecting the second and last one hopefully this weekend just in time for the photoshoots any day next week."

"Me and the marketing team haven't actually discussed the photoshoot details, but they've had that with Sharon, seeing as she's the project head. All I have to do is approve it," Sam said, looking at you, "with you here, of course."

You nodded in agreement, then looked at Sharon. "Will we discuss, perhaps, half of it today?"

"Oh, I can discuss all of it." Sharon smugly replied. "I have a very promising proposal right here." She clicked the next slide, showing photos of various known models. "Let's start with the models. The new faces of the Falcons — "

"Hi, sorry. Can I weigh in on this one?" You interrupted as you scanned the faces of the models in front.

"I haven't finished yet."

You looked at Sam, who had his finger on his chin (assessing the situation), pleading with him with your eyes. "Go ahead, y/n." He said, nodding.

"Thank you, Sam." You replied then went back to the screen. "If I'm not mistaken, that's Kendall Jenner."

"Yes, it is."

"That's not exactly a new face." You argued. "And isn't she already an ambassador for Adidas?"

"It is a new face of The Falcons." She answered. "And she's actually ending her contract with Adidas. Something about breach of contract or some sort that I cannot legally discuss with outsiders."

"Where are the plus-size models?" You asked.

"I was actually getting to it." She clicked the next slide.

"Ashley Graham?"

"Yes, her. She's the perfect candidate."

You bit your lip, leaning forward on the table and unhooking your pinky with Bucky's. "Look, all of these models are gorgeous and handsome and good models but they're faces you see every single day on billboards — "

"Exactly. They're faces you see every single day." She repeated. "That means that these faces sell. And that's what we want for this release."

"I thought what you wanted was inclusivity." You frowned. "We should get people who are real athletes and models from different races, colors, and sizes. Real people, not these people you see every day on your phone or everywhere you go. These models are overrated, anyways." You faced Sam, who was listening intently. "Let's not get faces but stories instead. I believe that's what will separate The Falcons from these huge brands. It's a new release, right? Might as well make everything new."

Your words hung in the air, rendering the whole conference room quiet. Until Sharon broke it off. "Business doesn't work that way. I went to business school. I know how the system works."

You chuckled. "I majored in business and finance. Trust me, I know everything there is to know about business, not just you."

She was dumbfounded but tried to hide it, anyway. "But this is my proposal. You don't have a say on who we should get. You don't work for The Falcons."

"I know." You sighed. "But I'm working with you, and I have a say in this as much as you do." You glanced at Sam who was deep in thought. "But of course, Sam will always have the last say."

You leaned back in your chair, your chest heaving. With your eyes straight ahead, you grabbed Bucky's hand and hooked your pinky with his.

"Sharon," Sam started, "that was an excellent presentation and I humbly appreciate it but y/n does have a point. I wouldn't want these people representing The Falcons. I want people like me, people with stories to tell. Inclusivity isn't a marketing strategy, or a statement. It's what I believe in. And you," he swiveled his chair in your direction, "made a good case out of it."

You broke out in a smile, glancing at Bucky who also did the same. He now intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand three times.

"Sharon, find new models and athletes and have their profiles by next week. Let's think of it like... Kind of like a casting call." Sam said, standing up. "Now, let's dismiss this meeting 'cause I am starving."

-

"You have got to get a new assistant, Sam." Bucky groaned as you got inside Bucky's limo. You had lunch at some fancy restaurant in Manhattan before Sam showed you around the main store down Fifth Street.

You laughed, greeting Howard who gave you a smile through the rearview mirror. "She's the best assistant I could ever get."

"Please." Bucky said. "You could have better. She's just, ugh, I don't know, what's the word for someone who thinks she's better than everyone else in the room? Who hates practically everyone but goes to great, great lengths just to kiss your ass — "

"Alright, alright!" Sam cut him off, laughing. "I get it, man. But y'know I can't afford to lose her. It took me months to get a loyal and honest assistant."

"Ugh, fine."

"You just want her out because you're protecting your little babydoll."

"Jesus, Sam." Bucky said. "Stop calling her that."

"Yeah, stop calling me that." You frowned, leaning on Bucky's side and wrapping your hand around his muscular arm. "Only he gets to call me that."

"You guys make me sick." Sam joked.

You turned towards Bucky who had the end of his eyes, crinkled, and nose, scrunched. "Hey," you said, grabbing his attention, "did you get a text from Parker last night?"

His expression became relaxed, and looked at you. "Yes, actually. Something about a kid named Schmidt."

You chuckled. "Yeah, he's kind of a bully. Remind me to beat his ass when he comes to the bar. You won't miss him. He's got way too much gel in his hair, and too much of a know-it-all, kind of like, Ross Geller."

"Oh, I'd like to watch you beat someone up." Sam nodded, smirking. "You know what, I'd pay you to punch Parker."

"Oh come on, Sam." Bucky laughed.

"Nah, I'm kidding. I love that little kid. Speaking of Peter," Sam cleared his throat, "what are you guys gonna do when he gets back?"

You and Bucky fell silent, hooking your pinky with his once more. "We, uh," you glanced at Bucky who had his eyes on his shoes, "we haven't talked about it yet. But we will tell him, that's for sure. Right, James?"

His eyes shot up to yours, then at Sam. "Yes, yes, of course. I mean it's Peter. Of course, we'll tell him. Just not right away."

"What do you mean not right away?" You frowned.

"Well, we can't flat out tell the guy we're dating the moment he comes back. I don't want him to have a heart attack." Then, he bent down a little, leveling his mouth on your ear. "We are dating, right?"

"Well, we haven't talked about it and we're certainly not talking about it in front of Sam." You replied, glancing at Sam who was just staring at the both of you.

"We're here, Mr. Barnes." The partition pulled open, revealing Howard's voice. The three of you got out of the limo, the bar right just right in front. Before we even got to enter the bar, Sam tapped your shoulder and called out to Bucky.

"Do you mind if I borrow your girl for a moment? I'll just have to discuss something work-related."

Bucky turned around and glanced at the both of us. "Yes, sure." He pecked you on the lips then turned around to enter the bar.

"This is actually about Bucky." Sam said.

"Oh." You said. "Okay. What about Bucky?"

"I have to say, I haven't seen him that happy."

"Uh, isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"It is, it is! And I'm glad he has you."

"But?"

He sighed. "But just be careful with him. Look, y/n, he's a good guy and all; we're practically brothers... But he's a child. I've known him since we were teenagers. He's almost forty and not once has he had a serious relationship."

"What are you trying to say, Sam?"

"You've only known him for, what, a couple of weeks? Don't you think this is going a little too fast?"

"I like Bucky." You replied. "I genuinely do and what we do or how we do is honestly none of your business. It doesn't matter how long I've known him. I appreciate you looking out for Bucky, but Bucky's an adult. We're all adults here. We can handle ourselves."

"Just promise me one thing."

"Sure."

"Don't hurt my friend." He said. "He may act like this rich bitch just parading around town, getting by with his manly looks and shit, but he's a child. He doesn't know what he wants. If you hurt him, you'll also end up hurting yourself. So, be careful, alright? Think this through, and talk with him."

Silence.

"Promise me, y/n."

You nodded. "Yeah, I promise."

"Good. Now let's head in there, I need a drink."

"Wait, Sam." You said, making Sam stop in his tracks. "Do you think Bucky likes me as much as I do?"

"I can't say for sure." Sam replied before walking inside.

You leaned your back against the brick wall, hitting the back of your head. You closed your eyes, letting all your thoughts rush in.

Still feeling a little bit light-headed, you went inside (which was still empty except for Nat, Sam, and Bucky) and as soon as Nat's eyes landed on your figure, she whistled. "Oh wow, Mrs. Fancypants!"

You chuckled, removing your blazer, revealing the tight black tube top as it was getting a bit hot. "Shut up, Nat."

"Woah, somebody call the fire department 'cause it's getting hoooot in here!" Nat continued then tilted her head towards Bucky. "Hey big guy, if you're not gonna hit that, I will."

You rolled your eyes, chucking the blazer to her face. You turned to Bucky who was sitting in the usual booth with Sam. "She said the same thing to me about you."

"Don't expose me like that, y/n. Not. Cool."

You giggled, sliding in the booth and greeting Bucky with a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, you."

"Hey, doll." He smiled, placing his hand on your thigh and pulling you closer. "We were just talking about you."

You glanced at Sam, who was smiling at you. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Don't worry, it's all good. And, y/n... That thing we talked about earlier."

"What about it?" You asked.

"We're good." He answered. "And to answer that last question, he does."

You beamed. "Really? He does?" You asked, as if Bucky wasn't even in the room.

"Yes, he really does."

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" Bucky asked out of curiosity.

You glanced at Sam, smiling, "Oh, just this model I want for the shoot," and then you looked back at Bucky, "I was kind of having doubts for a hot minute over there about him, but, everything's fine. Everything's good."

"Good." He kissed your temple softly, making your heart flutter. "It should be."

[spookyhalloweennights]

A Dragon’s Heart (Kamoss:SFW)

Another request done! This one featuring an ace dragonshifter by the name of Kamoss! I’m trying something new with my stories and featuring these little collages to go with them! Let me know what you guys think! *Disclaimer: None of the photos are mine, they were all found on google so credit goes to the owners!* If you like my work and want to read more, check out my Masterlist! As always, requests/matchups are open!

Kamoss was a proud shifter, known as the king among his kind, he ruled with what many had considered an iron fist. While he was harsh, he was just as kind in many other ways, often taking the time to visit the markets where many merchants sold their handmade wares. Usually buying little trinkets to hang up around his castle, he would fill his carriage with the wares before heading back to his own home. 

You were new to the town, having set up your own stall to sell your own wares. Each day brought more and more business to your stall until the king himself had made an appearance at your stand. He had taken interest in your wares and had purchased the entire set you had made for the day. Bewildered, you had begun to wrap everything up while he had waited. 

“Excuse me if I am being too forward, but is there a missus?” You asked tentatively, the icy blue gaze of the king falling on you again. 

“There is not, and there is not a single soul in the kingdom who would want to be with me the way I’d need them to be.” He responded sharply, the answer making you shrink back slightly from the tone. 

“My apologies.” You responded back quietly, the rest of the packing was spent in silence until you had finished wrapping everything up and putting it in a brown paper bag. You passed it off silently and there seemed to be a faint look of regret on his features however it had swiftly disappeared and the rigid expression had returned. 

Rumors had been thrown around over the following weeks, whispers of the king not wanting to produce an heir to rule over the kingdom when he was gone. You had listened to the gossip from other merchants in the square, coming to your own conclusion that the king may be exactly like you and in a way you were almost grateful that there was someone else just like you out there. You had seen the king in the marketplace over the next few days visiting different merchants before he had made his way to yours. At the end of the day, you were leaving empty handed which was good for your business but in a way you had felt as though he was trying to make it up to you.

“You know, you don’t have to keep buying all of my stuff when you come here as a way to apologize.” You commented after making some idle chatter with him, he was far kinder than you had expected him to be after the first encounter you had with him. 

“I know, but the truth is I really do like the wares you are sellings here in the marketplace. They are beautiful pieces that I’ve used to decorate almost every corner of the castle.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. 

The guards that were accompanying him merely chuckled in response while he sent them a piercing glare. His purple gaze locking onto them and a small growl leaving him, the guards quieted down with knowing smiles as the king flushed with color, refusing to meet your gaze as he asked the next question. 

“Are you going to be attending the festivities this year? The town holds a winter festival which includes a masquerade ball…” He asked softly, almost as if he was half expecting you to say that you had found a date for it already. 

“I didn’t know that there was such a thing, I don’t have anyone to go with.” You responded with a sigh, the king took note and stood up a bit straighter with a smile. 

“Then perhaps you’d like to accompany me to the festivities?” He asked, the guards behind him snickering once more. 

“I think I’d like that very much, however I think it’s best if I decline, least your reputation gets ruined King Kamoss.” You could only imagine what the others would gossip about in the merchants square, considering that you were new among them and having the king ask you to such a thing would only add fuel to the fire. They had already started whispering about how your stall is the last one the king visits every day and how he lingers for far longer than he does at any other stall. 

“Oh…” He seemed to deflate for a moment before grinning down at you. “I don’t care much for reputation, and please, call me Kamoss.” 

You turned it over in your mind for a moment longer before finally giving in with an amused sigh, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Alright, if you insist then I shall.” 

You could see the excitement spread across his features, dragon scales had started to appear around his face as though he could not control himself, and in the blink of an eye, a massive dragon stood in front of your stall. You had stumbled backwards in shock before finding yourself laughing at the whole situation, in a way you had almost expected him to be something other than a human. The scales that covered his entire body flashed from black to silver while his underbelly was pure white. The same purple gaze locked onto you and the creature laid down on the stone pathway with a quiet huff. 

“So, shall I assume you’ll pick me up, or shall I meet you at the castle?” You asked, amusement clear in your tone as the dragon stared at you. 

“We’ll pick you up, no need to worry.” One of the guards answered for the king, you merely nodded in response and grinned at him. 

“I shall see you then my king.” You responded, leaning forward to kiss the dragon’s snout. A loud purr had erupted from him when you did which only made the guards burst out laughing again as the king turned to hiss at them in warning. 

When the winter festival had finally arrived, you were dressed in the best gown you could afford. A victorian style ball gown with black lace accents, you had settled on doing very light makeup just for the fun of it when a knock at your door had you pausing. “Just a moment!” You called out to them, they gave some sort of acknowledgement and you very swiftly finished. 

Slipping on a coat as it was only getting colder the longer the day wore on, you stepped outside of your home to be greeted by your king. A smile was present on his features as he gazed down at you, he tentatively took hold of your hand and lifted it to press a kiss to the back of it. 

“You look wonderful this evening.” He stated as if it was a well known fact, you flushed with color at the compliment. 

“Thank you Kamoss, you do as well.” You responded back, watching as his own features flushed with color as he offered you his arm. You looped yours through his and the two of you set off towards the plaza where the festivities were taking place. The plaza was much more beautiful than you remember it being, it was decorated to the nines with winter stuff and everyone seemed to be in a good mood with high spirits. It didn’t take much longer for your spirits to match theirs, music rang throughout the entire area and you felt Kamoss pause in his steps. 

When everyone had begun to pair off and dance, you glanced up at the king, almost hoping he would ask you to dance and you were not disappointed as he turned to pull you against him in a waltz. No one had noticed that the pair of you were there yet and you liked it that way, it was much more private than having the attention focused on you. 

“You look wonderful this evening.” He stated once more, the music falling away as the two of you danced and had begun to talk. 

“You already said that.” You commented with a smile, the king flushing once more with color. It was as if he was trying to say something more but was too shy and proud to say it. The guards that accompanied him were both with their own partners but had remained close just in case. 

“Would you just kiss her already, my lord? You’re making both of us exhausted by your continuous pining, it's sad really.” One guard commented as he brushed by, the king let out a garbled mess of words before sighing and looking down at you. 

“If it’s alright-” You had cut him off before he got to finish the sentence. 

“Of course!” You chimed, realizing you sounded a little too eager you quieted down. “That is if you want to.” 

“I do, you had captivated me with how delicately you treated everything you handled and then later with your personality, you’re not afraid to be forward with me.” He murmured softly before leaning down and kissing you.

Little did you know, the town folks' gazes had landed on the pair of you. Everyone was watching with amusement as he had kissed you. Various murmurs had begun to ring throughout the crowd as you pulled away from each other. 

“Took long enough.” “They’re perfect together.” “Perhaps the king will now have someone who understands…”

[post-nuclear-sweetheart]

Weight of the World (1 & 2)

Patches interacts with the NPCs of Firelink Shrine, while an abusive Ashen One is away.

Every now and again the familiar sound of armour clunking up the worn stone stairs of the shrine would stir Patches from thought. They would approach him with a silent glare and voicelessly inquire about his inventory and would either purchase something, much to Patches’ delight, or would abruptly walk away, followed by his belittling words.

There was a period of time the Ashen One didn’t return for an unusually long time, and in that time Patches watched the drifters from his perch, high above in the shrine. It was amusing to watch the blind bird with snowy white hair and long ash-stained robes stumble around the shrine and stub her toes on the steps and walls. She would let out a breathy squeak each time she gently collided with something, feel around with her arms and finally take her place somewhere. No one spoke with her directly, all except the Ashen One, but there was one time Patches did descend from his perch to interact with her.

The Fire Keeper sat along the steps of the inner circular shrine, fiddling with a loose strand of thread from her robes and quietly hummed to herself. Upon hearing the shuffling of greaves, she lifted her head and called out, “Welcome home, Ashen One.”

But her small smile faltered. “Ah, thine footfalls art lighter than mine Ashen One.”

Her observation took Patches by surprise, considering he was taller and no doubt heavier than the Ashen One. He looked down at his outfit and realized it was the iron greaves and boots he wore that gave him that clunky armour sound, but the fabric shirt he wore on his torso and nothing else helped his footsteps sound lighter.

Patches let out a chuckle. “Huh. Not very blind for a blind girl, are we?”

The Fire Keeper visibly recoiled. “Thoust a wicked one; begone.”

“Aw, now, now,” he crouched low before her, levelling his eyes to where hers used to be. “what has that horrid Ashen Tart been telling you?”

“They told’th me of thy trickster ways, and how thee would betray thy own compatriots.”

“Trickster?” Patches couldn’t help the manic grin growing on his face. “Oh, absolutely. Spot on, in fact. Now, what’s all this about betraying my friends?” He mimicked a hurt tone. “I would never do such a thing, bird.”

“I don’t believe thee. I am told’th thee did cast mine Ashen One’s true friend down a well, and that yond thee donn’d his armour and pretended to be him.”

Patches playfully shrugged, not that the Fire Keeper could see it. “Alright, I admit, I did that. And how remarkably easy it was to get him to strip that laughable armour off - but I digress. Old boy and I made up. We’re all friends now!”

She didn’t fully believe that he made amends with the poor, jolly knight, but his truthful admittance is what caused the Fire Keeper to ease her suspicions of him… for now.

She craned her head to look up at him. Patches whistled and gave a little wave, and her head followed the sound to look straight ahead. She jumped slightly in surprise.

“Thou art a solitary being. What mad’eth thee come down hither?”

“Oh,” Patches rubbed the back of his bald head. “I had enough of being a fly on the wall to the goings on here. Thought I’d come down,” the Fire Keeper could hear the grin on the face in his tone. “stir up some trouble.”

The Fire Keeper’s lips contorted to a grimace of disgust. “Is’t within thy nature to disturb the delicate balance of those who seek’th solace hither?”

“Hear me now, bird,” he said. “I ain’t the one to meddle where his nose don’t belong. You’re better off giving that question to your beloved Ashen Tart.”

“Just as thee has’t nay business stripping yond po’r knight of his armour, and disturbing our contenders.”

The toothy, almost malicious, grin fell from Patches’ face for a moment, before awkwardly chuckling, “Not one to pick up on sarcasm, are you? I didn’t actually mean I’d cause trouble-“

From her seat on the semi-eroded stone steps, the Fire Keeper stood to her full height. Not as tall as Patches, her figure and aura possessed a cursed air around her, and managed to send a fright through the tall pale man. “Thou shan’t spread any mischief whilst thou take’th shelter in the shrine, lest thou wishes to face wrath.”

Patches held up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright! I read you - loud and clear!”

Satisfied with his answer, the Fire Keeper took her seat once more on the eroded steps. “Then thou art most welcomed.”

But Patches remained to stare down at the Fire Keeper. After several, silent moments passed, the Fire Keeper’s idle humming halted. “Oh, does’t the vagrant have more to say?”

“Yeah.” His light and spirited tone evaporated to a dour mood. “I see a lot that goes on here.”

“Oh?” The Fire Keeper entertained him.

“And I see how that Tart treats you.” He said with a vindictive tone. “The way they slap you around with every new shiny toy they find. You don’t have to take that.”

At his confrontational language, the Fire Keeper recoiled slightly. “I am surprised thee care enow to approach’th me, but it doest not matter, for I cannot die so easily.”

Patches huffed at her complacent attitude of remaining nothing more but a servant to the next Lord, and a training dummy. “Death doesn’t matter much, but you’ve still got feelings. How’d that last beheading feel? Not great, eh?”

The Fire Keeper pursed her lips, and remained silent for a moment, before speaking in a quieter voice, “I… Mine own feelings matter not. I understand’th mine place in the ordinary; what mine fate hast becometh.”

Patches went to speak, but the soft, shaky voice of the Fire Keeper kept his words at bay. She clutched at the worn fabric of her ash-stained sleeves. “Wicked One,” she sounded pained. “prithee, grant me solitude.”

He hesitated, staring as she drew herself inward, but he knew when it was time to leave well enough alone. Wordlessly he stepped away, interested in the dark figure in armour that resembled a gargoyle peeking from the archway to spy down below, further into the shrine.

But the Fire Keeper called quietly after Patches. “Thy concern is appreciated, O Wicked One.”

-

Eygon of Carim - a knight dressed in armour that resembled some sort of horrific creature - watched a pale maiden, wrapped up in creams and whites, from above. Irina, the one Eygon was so devoted to, sat upon what seemed to be the only dry patch of stone in the moist darkness of the shrine’s lowest floor.

Patches had seen him before. He entered the shrine to visit her from afar a few times, merely to silently observe and see if she was alright in the care of the Ashen One. Once satisfied, he would sulk around the outside of the shrine before taking off somewhere else.

This visit didn’t seem to be like his others, Patches noticed from where he spoke with the Fire Keeper. Eygon moved slow and carefully, as not to disturb the joints in his armour too much. He didn’t call out to her, didn’t engage or make himself known. He stood in the shadows, spying on the poor blonde girl. Patches had no issue playing along with Eygon’s silent act.

It was after a few more moments of peering down at the nun, who slowly swayed her head and hummed, that Eygon stepped away from the arch and crossed his arms.

“What business have you to bother me?” His deep, rumbling voice flowed from the open mouth of the gargoyle helmet he wore. “Go kiss someone else’s ass. I’m not in the mood for your foolery.”

Patches tilted his head and smirked at the Carim knight. He knew exactly what that tone meant; he was defensive. Like he was caught in the act of doing something he’s ashamed of. “Know of me,” Patches kept his voice quiet, much like the knight’s own voice. “wittol?”

A low growl resounded from within Eygon. “You’ve made a number of enemies. Seems like you’re in the market for another one.” Eygon reached behind him, never moving his head from gazing at Patches, for his atrociously large hammer that leaned into the corner he stood in.

But there was something about Carim knights that Patches was intimately familiar with. Rude, crass and as prickly as they were, not often did they enact wrath upon others who caused petty offense.

Patches crossed his arms and shrugged. “All you knights with your maidens you’re all so devoted to - how’s a bloke not to think you don’t slave over her feet? But not you, eh?”

Patches stepped quietly, closer to the archway to gaze down at the nun, Irina. He pulled himself back to face Eygon. “Not with an evil creature like that.”

“Obvious, isn’t it?” Eygon whispered. “A pitiful failure. Nothing but an attraction to perverse darkness, but even a woman cursed as her deserves her dignity. Begone.”

Unbothered, Patches complied. “Alright, then. No sense in talking to you. Your lady down there,” Patches had begun to make his way towards the stairs that descended lower into the shrine. “seems more apt for conversation. Maybe I’ll-“

Eygon slammed his impossibly large hammer down dangerously close to Patches, kicking up clouds of ash and debris. His hammer shook the ground, and sent an ear-shattering bang echoing throughout the shrine.

“You won’t touch her.” Eygon seethed, lifting his head to stare directly into Patches’ eyes. “Not without a fight.”

“Ashen One?”

A soft voice called out, just loud enough for both men to hear. “Ashen One,” she called again. “is that you?”

Eygon hoisted the hammer back up the rest against his shoulder. “No, my lady. It’s only me.” He spoke louder towards the archway.

“Oh, Eygon,” her voice lifted in tone and sounded much happier than the dreary inquiry she had before. “it’s been so long since you came to visit me. Won’t you come here, please?”

Patches noticed the subtle way Eygon’s form turned frigid. A grin formed across his face, turning upwards in a most evil way. “What’s wrong? Don’t all you Carim knights dream of ravishing your lady? Or, is it that you’re right scared of her?” Patches purposefully forced out a laugh that dripped with venom. “Oh mate, you should’ve stopped being scared of the dark when you were a kid.”

“Say what you wish,” Eygon threatened in a low tone. “but I will kill you. Not now, but upon our next meeting I’ll separate the flesh from your oversized head. You’ll have wished you’d eaten your words.”

Eygon pushed past Patches, making sure to collide his armoured shoulder with his, and descended the stairs to where Irina spent her days.

Patches watched, silently above, in the shadow of the stone archway. The dark knight firmly planted the top of his hammer onto the ground, before kneeling before the pale nun. “What is it you needed, Irina?”

“Touch me, please.” Irina held up her hand in the blank space in front of her. “I- I have tremendous news.”

Eygon stared at the warm, soft palm Irina offered to him. She appeared simply angelic; the lit candles beside her created a heavenly glow around her in the dark, but all Eygon saw was the amplified darkness that plagued her eternally. He didn’t move, and was silent for too long.

Patches noticed his hesitation had turned into an uncertain withdrawal. It was clear to Patches now: this knight wasn’t just scared, he was terrified of her.

“Eygon? Where have you gone?” Irina’s outstretched arm faltered, but at his name, Eygon answered.

“I am here.” He pressed the palm of his gauntlet against her’s, and Irina’s fingers closed around his hand, feeling the intricacies of the design.

“It is you.” Irina whispered. “I am… I am glad it’s you. This Ashen One, he gave me a tome that felt most terrible against my fingers.”

Eygon stiffened. “Tell me you did not read it.”

Irina shook her head, and gave her knight a demure smile. “I did not. A woman - a witch - stopped me before I could. She guided my hand to a tome that tickled me with its radiance.” She gave a quiet, gleeful chuckle. “It’s bountiful light seems to have staved off the darkness that nibbles upon me. Perhaps my path towards becoming a Fire Keeper is not lost.”

A Fire Keeper. This information surprised Patches. He had assumed she was nothing more but a broken nun - a dirty cleric, but she was nothing of the sort.

“Eygon,” she started. “I know my curse wards you away from me, but the darkness is not in my presence. May I touch your skin?”

“...Are you so certain you feel the absence of the dark? Remember my oath to you.”

“I remember clearly. No, it seems gone. I feel positively elated.”

It was true that her smile turned up more than usual, and a healthy flush was present in her cheeks. Eygon pulled his hand away from hers to unclip the clasps of his gauntlet, and pulled it off to reveal his bare flesh. Experimentally, he placed only the pads of his fingertips against hers, then slowly enveloped her hand in his.

Irina let out a breathy gasp. “Oh, oh Eygon, you are so warm. I never could have imagined you felt this way. I can only wonder what you may look like.”

Patches grimaced at the sickly sweet scene unfold before him, and stepped away before he became a witness to the lovelorn fools’ potential union. Lovers were items that already made his stomach twist in knots, but secret lovers? He nearly vomited at the thought. There was one thing that stuck with him through all of that snooping; the corruption the new Fire Keeper nearly fell to by way of the Ashen One.

Perhaps the world could have done well with the loss of one more holy person, but the loss of a fire attendee? No, Patches knew where his hatred began and ended, and this betrayal was another strike against the Ashen One for him.

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

aight SO

i finished ep 12 and i've talked about it with a friend, and now i've also taken a look into the tarlos tag to get a sense of what people are saying. i think i'm ready to break this down.

so there are a few big questions about That Scene and the following tarlos interactions. i'll just work through them one at a time. buckle in, this is gonna get long. now without further ado...

1) Was TK lashing out at Carlos at the firehouse in character?

Short answer: yes and no.

Long answer: we've seen TK get physical and even violent before. He literally sought out a bar fight in s1. He nearly got into a fist fight with Judd, too. And did you see the way he was hurling darts after that, when he and Carlos were on their date? This boy is not a stranger to getting physical. There are, however, a few major differences between those scenes and this one with Carlos.

One. The bar fight was premeditated, while his fight with Carlos was not. Why is this important? Because it means that TK has shown some measure of restraint in the past. He managed to stay present during what I would call the 'trigger' of the bar fight episode, and saved his physical response for a later time.

Two. His altercation with Judd, on the other hand, was not premeditated. The difference, then, is that Judd was also ready to get physical at the time. With the scene with Carlos, Carlos was trying to remain calm and impartial for most of it, and attempted to de-escalate when TK got violent. The whole thing was driven by TK.

Three. In none of the scenes we've seen before of TK getting violent has his dad's health or safety been threatened. TK's dad is a HUGE part of his life, and he has a LOT of emotional trauma surrounding his relationship with his dad. He's TERRIFIED of losing Owen, because he's nearly lost him so many times before. TK has some MAJOR anxiety about losing people, to the point where he refused to let Carlos into his heart at the beginning of s1. There's also the fact that TK has gone through a lot of trauma in not a lot of time. Even if the show wants us to believe the kidnapping is over, I'm willing to bet that the after-effects are still hitting. For both TK AND Carlos, honestly.

There are also two other lines to consider when we're talking TK's characterization: first, in the episode when Gwyn moves out, and we see her and TK talking, she then calls Owen who asks if TK 'flew off the handle' (i believe that was the wording, correct me if I'm wrong). This is important because we have two people who are VERY close to TK talking about how he reacts to things, the crux of which is that TK gets reactionary. He has high emotional responses and says (or does) things that he doesn't necessarily mean.

Then there's another line that I think is important. This is the one in the crossover episode, when TK tells Buck that he's 'done a lot worse than steal a fire truck'. This one is important because it's TK talking about HIMSELF. We don't have any context for this or what it means, necessarily, but I'm willing to bet from context that he wasn't just talking about ODing.

So with all this in mind... do I think TK was in character? Do I really think TK would do this? Well... it makes sense in the context of TK's story and his arcs and all the scenes we've seen him in so far. But, at the same time, I would definitely have done it differently. It's a thing like... it's not a WRONG answer, but then again, was it really right, either?

2) Was Carlos's reaction to TK lashing out in character?

Short answer: yeah, I think so*.

*though if they don't expand on it I'm gonna have a problem.

Long answer: Carlos, at this point in the story, is dealing with two things that I think impact his emotional landscape a HELL of a lot.

One. His past and his family. He grew up with a man who seems emotionally distant, and it has only VERY RECENTLY started to get better. He felt INCREDIBLY alienated after he came out, and then when he became a cop and he was dealing with his father's silent disapproval. He is always searching for approval and, most likely, affection as well. What this means is that he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself, and bases his self worth on how OTHER people react. If someone reacts badly, that's a mark against himself.

"But Kay," you say, "What about the scene where he made dinner for TK and TK walked out? Carlos didn't blame himself then!"

Which is an interesting point! Carlos didn't put the onus on himself in that scene, he turned it back on TK, calling him 'crazy'. I think that was a secondary coping mechanism, to be honest. He knew he couldn't deal with feeling like he was the one who was wrong AGAIN so he twisted the situation around in his head until it was TK who was 'being crazy'. I've talked about that scene in depth before so I won't do it again, but Carlos's reaction is, I think, indicative of having felt rejection before and trying to protect himself.

Which brings me to number two. The fact that he's nearly lost TK several times already. This plays a HUGE role in how Carlos acts, especially with TK. Carlos has wanted TK LITERALLY from day 1, and since then he's nearly lost him how many times??? Enough, at least, that I'm fairly certain he's now holding on too tight, even when it comes back and hurts him. He just... he seems to have this mentality that if he's in he's ALL in, and he's not allowed to back away or put any distance between them, or else he'll lose TK for real.

Because we've seen TK pull back and get some distance before. We saw TK take a night away after their fight about the farmer's market. Maybe not with the best communication, but TK was angry and he needed space, so he left. When he did that, however, Carlos was convinced that they were breaking up. Like, CONVINCED. You cannot tell me that Carlos didn't think the worst in that moment.

Now why is THIS important? Easy. Because Carlos and TK may be moving forward in their relationship, but they are at a point right now where they react to things in fundamentally different ways. TK kind of bounces between becoming reactionary and going distant (again, we saw this in s2ep8 very clearly), while Carlos has reached a point where he kind of doubles down on holding tightly to TK even when he maybe shouldn't.

Basically, when you boil all this down, Carlos is DESPERATELY trying not to rock the boat, with his parents OR with TK, because he's scared of everything coming apart. And I think that makes sense with this episode.

The problem, then, is that this is a coping mechanism. The narrative has set it up as such. Which means that he's going to have to address it at some point. If he doesn't, I will be FUCKING PISSED, believe you me.

3) Did the narrative address that scene with respect, dignity, and nuance?

Short answer: I DON'T THINK SO.

Long answer: TK is human. He's a recovering addict. He's had problems with feeling numb in the past (that line about how everything is gray), which, I think, makes his feelings just THAT MUCH BIGGER when he does have them. So clearly, he's going to make mistakes. The question then is, was this particular mistake something he's learned from, or was it just used for the drama?

I have two reasons to believe it was the latter rather than the former.

One. Judd's reaction. Judd telling Carlos to get out of the firehouse after TK hit him, as if Carlos was the bad guy in that situation, was dramatic as hell. TK and Carlos are pitted against each other in that moment, and instead of mediating, Judd picked a side. Which is, ironically enough, the first thing that I think was NOT in character in that scene.

Judd, we know, is a bit of a hot-head, but he's also very empathetic. Judd was shown trying to mediate between Billy and Owen the last time the two of them had an episode together, because he understood both sides of the story and he cared for both of them. Why do I think it should have been the same this time? Well, because he loves TK and Carlos BOTH. They were both in the group hug at the hospital after the Ryder's car crash. It wasn't like Carlos stayed back, okay--JUDD CARES FOR BOTH OF THEM. And I think, at that point, that Judd would have seen the fact that TK was spinning out and Carlos was trying to stay objective and known that he needed to de-escalate. It would have been SO EASY to have that line be "Okay, okay, both of you step back and take a breather." He could EASILY have mediated. But he didn't. And that was a specific choice that leans more toward drama than anything else.

Which brings me to number two. The fact that they don't talk about it on screen. We had a hand-wavey 'we agreed no apologies' and a hot and heavy make-out scene instead. The writers wanted the drama of the two of them being in bed together while the fire started, and in order to do that they sacrificed the screen time it would have taken to actually have them have a conversation. Because, again, it would have been SO EASY to write them actually talking about it. They've done it before! After their fight about the farmer's market and Carlos's parents, the two of them have a WONDERFUL conversation. Why then and not now? Well, to make the fire more dramatic, to up the stakes one more time.

So no. I don't think there was any respect. I don't think there was any nuance. TK made a mistake, because he's human and he has some problems with emotional regulation, but there were little to no repercussions for it where there really should have been. There was no respect coming from the firefam for Carlos, either. There were no apologies, or further comments, or anything. And honestly... this season has done a lot toward making me feel like they don't give a shit about violence. Judd hitting that kid in the bear trap in the wild fire episode, Judd hitting the drunk driver who drove him off the road, Judd punching Billy when he thought he was framing Owen, and now TK hitting Carlos... all with no repercussions or apologies or even discussions about them... it's not a good look.

And there you have it. The writing makes sense. It does. But it's also really clear that the writers' priorities have changed. I really, honestly feel like the show has lost something since season 1. There's been a massive tonal shift, and I don't like it. The fact that we keep having Event after Event with no reprieve, have sacrificed conversations and interpersonal relationships for Drama, and have started killing and maiming characters with wild abandon, sometimes with seemingly no reason... it's all just a Lot. I have enjoyed watching season 2, but it's not sticking the same way as season 1 did. I'm not letting myself get attached to characters at this point because clearly we're not in a found family show anymore. I don't care about them the same way I did before. I can’t bring myself to do it when it’s becoming clear that we’re not going to slow down and actually process anything anytime soon.

[punkofsunshine]

Neoliberalism, conformity, and the monetization of individuality

Hey guys, I’m back! Ready to get into some more heavy topics, this week it is the topic of neoliberalism, also known as the modern capitalist system.

First. What is neoliberalism? 

Essentially, it is what was initiated under the Reagan/Thatcher administrations which “freed the market” and allowed corporations to globalize more than they were already. As some may know, capitalism subverts democracy by placing power into the hands of people with money, not those who are supposed to have control over legislation (the government). In that way, capital has more say in our political system than anyone/anything else making America a modern day oligarchy which is an extension of a traditionalist system of governance; monarchy. The (western) heads of the neoliberal governance are sometimes called “new world kings” due to their vast swathes of wealth and influence in governmental affairs, but it also became the reigning ideology among the people as well, however “unleashing the market” turned out to have disastrous consequences even until today. A research article by Vicente Navarro states  “. . .[pharmaceutical] companies that systematically prioritize their objective of maximizing profits over any other ends, such as preventing and/or curing illnesses (which, by spreading, may turn into pandemics – as we are witnessing in the current crisis). Many other sectors of medical care show similar behavior. And it is this commercialization of medicine and prioritization of private interests over public ones that have affected very negatively the health and quality of life of millions and millions of people (see my book Medicine Under Capitalism, 1976). These behaviors have been accentuated in the neoliberal period, which started in the late 1970s and early 1980s in the Western world.” This specifically discusses the neoliberal economic system and how it effects us here and now during the COVID-19 pandemic (which at time of writing *15/02/2021* is still going on in the US and various other places).

Due to the rise of the neoliberal mindset, punk and Gothic styles gained quick popularity among the outsiders of modernized society, as did a sub-genre of punk (specifically in the 80′s-90′s), cyberpunk. Cyberpunk imagines a world controlled by corporations, climate change, rampant crime, and no heroes to save the day. Real life cyberpunks didn’t adhere to the aesthetic we think of now, during the rise of the internet they were/are the code monkeys, the people who knew how to navigate commonly uncharted space by the rest of the people online at the time. As good as it all sounds, that’s where the problem begins however. As technology progresses so do the ways to exploit the people using that technology, same thing goes with everything we use now. Just as the outsiders created their own thing, a capitalist will find ways to sell that to you packaged as individuality, the good thing is that punks accounted for this already and are big users and advocates for DIY. However the Goths got the short end of the stick when their style got repackaged and put into malls, thus mall goths were born. I say all of this because now, when in pursuit of individuality one must be aware of whether it’s truly fringe and custom or just another re-branded aesthetic like mall goth. In other words, true individuality doesn’t come from what you buy or how you look, it comes from who you are. Conformity doesn’t come from how you look, but how you act.

Now why did I talk about mall goths and punks? Have you seen how much Gothic and punk style clothing costs? That’s the monetization of individuality, at least physically speaking. This also is applicable to Cottagecore, maximalism, plant parenthood, and other aesthetics/movements that cost money. To hear more about that click here to read about Marxian alienation, capitalism, and the commodification of the individual. And no, this is not me saying that if you have that style you’re a conformist, it’s just marketed heavily towards those who want to oppose capitalism and our blatantly imperialistic government, which is incredibly ironic. I personally know punks who made their clothes by themselves instead of buying clothes from fast fashion companies. If you don’t, don’t sweat it, although it’s really useful to learn those skills, sewing specifically. Just keep in mind that they’re trying to sell you rebellion. Anything that can be sold, will be sold.

Sorry for rambling so much this time, I try to not make it a habit. I hope you learned something though.

This has been punkofsunshine, have a good one and stay safe.

[rohad93]

Moonlit Masquerade: Full Circle

Part 12 of The Moonlit Masquerade Series

The first free day they both have together after Luz proposes, Amity all but drags Luz to the market so she can buy her fiancée her own ring. Luz groans as Amity pulls her out of bed at the crack of dawn.

Though it's less pulling and more slipping out of her grip in bed to get dressed and refusing to come back to bed when Luz moans for her to come back and snuggle with her.

"Vuelve a la cama, quiero acurrucarme," she moaned from face down on her pillow.

Amity rolled her eyes even as she kneeled over the bed to press a kiss to the back of Luz's head and rub a hand over her back, trying to rouse her quickly without having to toss her out of the bed as sometimes was the case.

"We can snuggle later, querida."

"Or, and consider this…. we could snuggle now…" Her head popped up from the pillow to look at her sleepily.

"We need to do this now," Amity said firmly even as she grinned at her. Luz groaned, head dropping back to the pillow.

"When you said we were gonna spend all day together, getting up at the crack of dawn to go to the market was not what I had in mind…," she mumbled.

Amity sighed, rolling her eyes fondly as she crawled fully back into the bed and wrapped her arms around Luz, lips pressed against her ear.

"We have all day, Luz. I'll take you to breakfast after and I promise, I'll make it worth your while later." The statement was punctuated by a kiss to her neck as Amity threaded her fingers through her hair. "...but we have to do this now."

Luz sighed into her pillow

"...fine," she mumbled. Amity smiled and pressed another brief kiss to her neck before rolling out of bed so Luz could push herself up only for Amity to toss a shirt and pants at her.

Luz grumbles as she flips back the blankets and starts getting dressed.

"Do we have to?" she asks with a sigh as she changes.

"You don't want a ring?" Amity asks, brows furrowed, and she's in the middle of pulling a shirt over her head, so Luz can't see her fiancée's face, but she knows the slight hurt tone when she hears it, she's intimately familiar with all Amity's tones of voice.

"Of course I want everyone to know I'm engaged to the most beautiful witch on the Boiling Isles, mi amor, but do we have to go to the market before dawn?" She finally pulls the tunic over her head and turns to Amity.

"Yes, the stand I want to go to gets there before the sun comes up and he sells out of his wares by breakfast. We need to go now," she says, turning and walking out of their room, Luz following, grabbing her staff off the hook on the wall as she does.

"Why don't you just buy one for me…?" she asks between a yawn.

"I want you to have the one you want." is the answer.

"Are you saying you don't like your ring?" Luz asks, and she's teasing, she knows Amity loves her ring, she'd taken every opportunity to show it to her siblings and their friends over the past week, but that doesn't stop her from spinning around on the stairs, eyes wide.

"What?! No! It's beautiful, Luz," she hurriedly assures.

"Hey, hey, I was teasing, I know you like it…"

"I love it," Amity corrects. "I just…," she sighs. "I just want to get you something you love just as much, and I haven't a clue where to even start… you don't wear jewelry except earrings…," she says and Luz shrugs.

"Never had much interest in it," she agrees with a shrug, stepping down to the step just above the one Amity is standing on so she can lean down over her. "I'd like anything you gave me, Amity." Luz reminds, cupping a cheek in her hand and leaned in to press a soft kiss against her mouth.

"I know you would…," Amity hums against her lips as she pulls back. "But, please Luz, let me do this?"

Luz couldn't say no to that pleading look even if she wanted to.

"I'm already out of bed and dressed so we might as well." She grins and Amity smiles at her.

The morning is warm and it promises to be a hot day, but they've set aside the whole day just to be together, and no matter the weather, that makes it perfect. Those days were much fewer in between since the rebellion. They were both busy often. They had played such pivotal roles in starting and ending the rebellion that people often looked to the two of them and their friends in the past year. There are always problems to solve and people to help adjust, but not today.

They have plenty of time to spare, so they walk, hand in hand to town. Glad to enjoy this unhurried moment together.

"Have you thought any about what you want to do for the wedding?" Luz asked her.

"I've… had some ideas…" Amity hedges, not willing to admit how much she's actually thought out in the one week since they got engaged whenever she had a few minutes between duties.

But Luz knows Amity. She's a planner, and if there was ever anything she'd be eager to plan, it's their wedding.

"You already have a whole notebook full of stuff don't you?" She grins knowingly and watches Amity's cheeks pink.

"It's not full… just like… half," she mumbled and Luz laughed. "They're just ideas! I wouldn't do any actual planning without you… though…," she trailed off. Luz squeezed her hand.

"We haven't really talked about a date yet, but… I have one in mind if it's alright with you."

"Shoot." Luz smiled at her.

"The 31st of October," Amity says.

"Halloween?" Luz can't help but grin at that. To her great surprise, her first October in the Isles, they did in fact have Halloween, though it looked a little different than in the human realm. No one dressed up as witches or werewolves, except her, since all those things existed here. They dressed up as humans. Doctors and lawyers and just everyday human objects. She'd never forget the two years Gus went as a toaster.

Amity smiled, she had a good feeling Luz would like that.

"Yes, but that's not the reason I picked it, querida. It's the next blue moon," she said.

" The bl- the blue moon!" Luz lit up. "That's perfect, amor!"

"Yeah?" Amity smiled.

"Yeah! There's something… hmm, not ironic, but you know what I mean, like, coming full circle." Luz tapped her chin, trying to think of the right word.

"That was my thought exactly." Amity nodded. "I also know how much you love Halloween." she grinned.

"It's true, I do." Luz smiled. "Though I get a distinct feeling that you're not going to let our wedding be costume themed…," she trailed off suggestively.

"No," is the deadpan answer.

"Fine…," Luz pouts. Amity rolled her eyes for the third time since waking up; forty-five minutes ago.

"So, October?"

"October" Luz agrees. "Could I wear an orange suit?" She tries and Amity laughs.

"If you want… but please don't. Orange is not your color, Luz."

"I know, I just wanted to see if you'd let me."

"It is your wedding too."

"Yeah, but you get kinda controlling when you're in charge of planning things, amor," Luz smirks at her as they walk through the market.

"I…!" Amity's mouth closes with a quiet click. She knows it's true, the first blue moon masquerade she'd had to throw after she'd turned sixteen had been a little tense, not the party, but the planning, she'd been a little hard on their friends and Luz, with her anal-retentive tendencies. Luz described her as "type A" and after she actually explained what that meant Amity had to admit it was true.

"I… am going to try very hard, not to do that. I want us to do this together," she said after a moment. Luz smiled at her and lifted their interlaced hands to lay a kiss on the back of Amity's hand in answer.

Amity pulls them to a certain stall in the market and she recognizes him.

He's large and scaly with four eyes and a tail. The same merchant Luz had bought Amity's broach from years ago. The one she still wears pinned to her shirt, under her cloak.

"Miss Blight, Miss Noceda!" He greets happily as they approach.

That's something Luz is still getting used to, people recognizing and knowing her. They and their friends had been pretty front and center during the rebellion after all.

"Good morning, Mr. Azbar." Amity greets him.

"How can I be of service to you today?" He asks looking between them, all four eyes blinking.

"We're looking for a ring," Amity tells him. He hums and gestures to a section of his wares, where some are sitting in their cloth slots on display.

Luz looks them over carefully. They're all pretty, but nothing she would really describe as her style. They're either too big or too much, more in the style that the upper class of Isles society would wear. Very showy, which once, Luz would have jumped at, but her flair for being bright and loud had settled some with age. She doesn't need to be loud or over the top for people to look and pay attention to her. She's not an insecure teenager anymore. She has the attention of all the people she needs.

She's still over the top at heart, but only with those closest to her.

"They're nice," she finally says. "But nothing really jumps out at me." She shrugs and Amity looks disappointed, while Azbar hums, looking at her thoughtfully.

"I do have something else, it was a special order, but the gentlemen who ordered it was a loyalist and met a rather… unfortunate end last year…" he says, tail swaying behind him.

"Sure, let's see it." Luz nods.

He digs under his stall before pulling out a little black box and pops it open.

"Oh, wow," Luz breathes.

It's a silver band with little scrolling patterns engraved into the sides, but the gem inlaid atop it is obviously the centerpiece. It's a bright plum color, with a vaguely star-shaped white pattern on its surface.

"It's beautiful." Amity agrees.

"It's a plum star jewel." He says and Amity's eyes widen at that. "Ahh, I see you're familiar with the stone, Miss. Blight," Azbar says.

"Plum star?" Luz questions.

"They're quite rare, something about their composition and how they're formed, only on the head, allows them to act as conduits for the natural magic of the Isles," Amity explains to her. "That would be perfect for you actually, Luz, it would probably increase your glyphs powers by letting you more easily draw on the magic of the Isles." Amity smiles.

"It's really pretty too." Luz looks at it with starry eyes and Amity sees how enamored Luz is with the ring.

"How much?" she asks him.

"Three-thousand-five hundred"

"Ay dios mio!" Luz shouts, standing up straight, eyes blown wide.

"For the two of you, however, I would take two. I'm certainly not going to make any money from the dead man who ordered it."

"We'll take it," Amity says, and Luz's head whips to her.

"What, No!" she half shouts at her.

"You like this one, I know you do, Luz," Amity says.

"That's a ridiculous amount to spend on my ring, Amity," she argues.

"How much did you spend on my ring?" she asks, planting a hand on her hip, and Luz pursed her lips.

Amity may not know for certain, but she grew up in the upper classes, she knows what a fine piece of jewelry looks like, and what it costs, and she knows her ring is just that. So she has a pretty good idea, and highly suspects Luz paid more than what she's proposing to spend right now.

"I don't have to answer that question." She crosses her arms and turns her nose up.

"Mhmm…," Amity hums knowingly. Luz huffs. "Luz, you said you'd let me buy you the ring you wanted," she reminds and Luz grumbles.

When they were young, Luz had always been weird about money, she never had any qualms about spending her own, hard-earned money on Amity, but never liked it when she spent money on her.

It wasn't until they were older that she admitted that she just never wanted it to seem like she was taking advantage of the money Amity came from. Which she personally thought was ridiculous, she was quite happy to spend her family's money on Luz. It made her mother angry and she liked to make Luz happy; both wins in her book. Especially so long as her father still funded her and the twins, when they asked, and even if he didn't, Amity would still be glad to work just so she could make her future wife happy.

This however was not funded by her father, this was money Amity had been saving for some time, just for this. Luz had simply beat her to the punch. After the first time they had talked about marriage, several years ago, she had started a separate savings fund just for this, and had been quite diligent in putting into it over that time.

They had worked it out, but sometimes, Luz still got a little skittish about it.

"This is the one you want, I know it is, so please?"

Luz sighed, looking at her before glancing back at the ring.

"Alright, yes. That's the one I want," she finally admitted, and Amity smiled, turning to Azbar, who grinned, showing off a mouth full of sharp teeth.

"Excellent!" He closed the box and Amity spun a finger, a sac of snails falling out into her open palm, which she gladly traded off for the box.

"A pleasure to do business with you both, and congratulations." He nodded.

"Thank you," they both said before they walked down the street.

Amity popped it open and pulled the ring from its box and held her hand out.

Luz set her hand in Amity's and let her slip the ring on her finger. She flexed it experimentally, testing the new weight into her hand.

"Well?" Amity asked.

"It's beautiful, amor," she agreed. "Thank you." She smiled, looking up at her. Amity smiled back before leaning down to kiss her.

"Come on, I promised you breakfast," she mumbled against her lips.

~ ~

Two days after their trip to the market Luz is standing in the kitchen brewing potions when Amity and Lilith come home from the Council headquarters, formerly Emperor Belos' castle, at mid-morning.

"Hey, you two are back really early." She grins at them, and they both smile back, but there's something off about it. "Something wrong, was the council such a pain in the ass you left early?" She cocks a brow as she stirs a large orange batch of something.

"No, we've been digging through some of the Belos' more secret places in the depths of the castle, and we found something yesterday, we've been doing some tests on it and have found it to be in perfect working condition…," Lilith trails off. Amity is biting her lip, which makes Luz frown. She only does that when she was worried or nervous.

"What did you find?" Luz asks curiously.

Lilith and Amity share a glance.

"We brought it home, I think it would be better if we showed you," Lilith said before turning to Amity. "Get Eda."

Amity nods before hurrying up the stairs to the younger Clawthorne sister's room.

"Now you're scaring me…" Luz frowned. "Why is Amity upset?"

Lilith frowned.

"She's not upset, just… anxious, I suppose," she hedges.

Amity then returns with Eda.

"So what did you find in that Bozos' castle?" She crosses her arms.

"Come see for yourself." Lilith looks at her seriously.

She leads them outside and around the back of the house and the second it comes into view both Luz and Eda stop cold.

Sitting there in the grass, it's one golden eye staring back at them, is the portal.

Luz is breathless as the door from her dreams and nightmares looks back at her.

Eda's shock doesn't last as long, but then her worried eyes are on Luz, along with Amity's and Lilith's.

"The portal…," she breathes, finally taking a step toward it.

Amity is twisting her fingers anxiously in her cloak as she watches. Her ring feels heavy on her finger.

The door looks like it has seen better days, it's pieces patchworked together with bits of metal and who knows what. He somehow fixed it after she destroyed it.

"You said it works?" Luz finally looks at Lilith, who nods.

"We've been testing it's magic extensively since yesterday morning, and it works every time," she said. "We brought it back, so you may use it, if you wish." She glanced at a fidgeting Amity.

Luz blinks at that.

Her mother… she could finally see her again, tell her where she's been for the past six years.

Slowly she nods.

"Yes,...I...I need my staff!" She turns around and ran back into the house.

Amity feels like she's on the verge of hyperventilating as she stands there, motionless in the yard. Luz needed this, needed to see her mother after all these years.

But what if she decided she didn't want to come back to the Isles?

What if she decided not to come back to her?

The thought is ridiculous, but the fear remains, bubbling in her chest anxiously.

Luz comes running back with her staff in its holster on her back and she still looks shocked and bewildered, but determined.

"Are you sure you're ready, Luz? You don't need to go right this second..." Eda tells her cautiously, she feels much like Amity but is better at hiding it than the younger witch.

"No… " Luz shakes her head. "but it's been six years, I can't make her wait any longer." Eda is frowning but nods.

She takes a step toward the door but stops to glance at Amity and can immediately tell by the hunch of her shoulders and the way her brows furrow between her eyes as she clutches at her cloak that she's scared. Of what, Luz isn't sure, but her fiancée's apparent discomfort beats out her other roiling emotions for the moment and she moves to her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asks quietly, reaching out to take hold of her left hand in hers. Their rings make a quiet clinking noise.

Amity shakes her head.

Truthfully, as soon as she had seen the portal in the dank nether regions of the castle, she had wanted to destroy it and never tell Luz about it.

It makes her ashamed to admit that she probably would have if Lilith hadn't been standing there with her. She and Lilith had discussed this at great length since they had found the portal, and as much as she didn't want to, she had to give Luz the choice, because she loved her; it wasn't fair or right to take that choice away from her.

She had to have faith that the woman she loved would come back to her.

"Nothing, Luz… just…" she can't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound selfish or admit how she feels because guilting Luz into not going would be selfish too, and even if she wasn't trying to guilt her, she knew Luz, and Luz would stay if she thought she didn't want her to go.

Luz seems to understand, at least a little bit.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll be fine and back soon, mi amor," she gently assures her with a kiss.

Amity just nods, and then Luz pulls away and turns to the door. She takes a deep breath and with a final glance around at the gathered witches, she opens the door and a blinding light fills the door frame and lights her silhouette as she steps through and it closes behind her.

Amity takes a shuddering breath and spins a finger and her staff appears.

"I'm going back to the castle…," is all she says, and then is flying off before Eda or Lilith can say anything.

"She's worried…" Lilith frowns, watching her go.

"Me too…" Eda frowns at the closed door.

~

The moment Luz steps through the other side she's hit by an assortment of sounds and smells that tug at her memory but also assault her senses.

Even standing in the doorway to the rickety shack in the woods, she can hear the sounds of traffic, something almost foreign to her now, and smell the slight unnaturalness in the air from the everyday pollution. She wrinkles her nose at it.

She also feels strange… like she's been cut off from something, it's hard to put it into words.

She pulls a glyph from her pocket and when she tries to cast the simple light spell the paper disintegrates into dust.

Frowning, she reaches for her staff.

She pulls it from her back and gives it a test, her palisman's eyes glow and a few light spells pop into existence and she sighs in relief, not only because at least the magic of her staff works, but because when she feels it's power course through her, she realizes what the strange feeling is.

Being cut off from the magic of the Isles.

Having learned and trained the last six years to use the wild magic that came from the island itself, she had a deep connection to it, going into another realm and cutting herself off from it feels like losing an appendage; like a phantom limb. she can almost feel it and she knows it's supposed to be there but it isn't and she can keenly feel its loss.

She slips her staff back into its holster and walks down the rickety wooden steps of the abandoned house and follows the path till she's standing next to the street and looks around as cars drive past, their engines loud and cacophonous.

She guessed that the human world really was always this loud, she'd just grown used to not having all the noise of industrialization around her all the time in the demon realm.

She turns and freezes.

There it is, the small house on the corner that was her childhood home.

She swallows thickly.

What if her mother didn't live there anymore? What if she moved away after Luz had disappeared?

As she stands there worrying, a car pulls into the driveway and a woman steps out and Luz's heart stops.

The woman is a little older now. With far more gray in her hair, but it's her mother.

She stands there motionless, watching Camila Noceda walk into the house.

Luz squared her shoulders. It was time.

She walks quickly up to the house and stands on the porch.

She thought about this moment countless times over the last six years, and she had always thought she knew what she was going to say or do when this moment came, but now that she's standing here about to make it a reality, she has no idea.

She takes a deep calming breath and reaches a shaky hand up, hesitating only a moment before finally knocking on the door.

It feels like an eternity, but it's probably only a minute at best before the door clicks open and her mother is standing there, looking at her from the other side.

"Yes, how-" she starts but stops as she stares at the young woman standing on her porch, looking so strange in her cloak, with leather pouches hanging off her hips and a long stick with a carved owl on top hanging off her back, but she looks so achingly familiar it makes Camila's heart twist and she tries to stomp down the hope rising in her chest. How many girls had she seen from behind over the years and hoped had been her little girl? Y-yes?"

"Hi, Mamí." Is all Luz can think to say.

Camila sucks in a sharp breath and her eyes glaze over as she shakes her head.

"You… you can't be…," she says shakily, gripping the doorway tightly.

"It is. It's me." Luz smiles, her own eyes starting to burn with tears.

"Luz… I… tell me, tell me something only Luz would know!" she demands but it's more begging, pleading with this familiar-looking stranger to please be who she says she is.

"Something only I would know…," Luz repeats, thinking. "Um, when I was ten you had to pick me up from school because I blew up a glitter bomb in science class and claimed I didn't need science because I had ma…"

"Magic…," Camila chokes and the tears are suddenly pouring down her face. "Luz!" she wails, throwing herself on her, and her grip is so tight Luz can barely breathe, but she holds her back just as tightly, her own tears finally dripping from her face as they sink to a pile on the porch.

They sit there for a very long time, till her mother can't cry anymore and neither can she.

Camila finally pulls back to look at her, eyes red and puffy and she cups Luz's face in her hands.

"You're a grown woman…," her mother sniffles, looking at her so sadly, even as she smiles at her. "You never came home… I looked for so long…" tears are still sliding down her cheeks. "Where have you been, Mija?" she finally asks desperately.

"We better go inside so you can sit down… you're not going to believe me…," she says and Camila frowns at that.

She doesn't believe her; at first.

Luz tells her where she's been and Camila thinks she's gone crazy, until she proves it by doing some spells with her staff and pulls her old phone out of her pocket she grabbed when she went to get her staff, and begins showing her the photos and videos she's taken over the years of the Isles, of Eda, Lilith, King, and Hooty. She carefully avoids the ones of Amity for now. She doesn't want to overload her mother by telling her she's engaged, as though that would be the hardest thing to believe in her story…

Camila sits amazed and silent for a long while as she explains Belos' and having to destroy the portal to save Eda, even though it effectively cut her off from the human realm. She talks about going to Hexside, graduating, and her friends, which makes Camila smile.

Eventually, she starts asking questions and Luz is happy to answer them all. They sit there for hours, talking. Luz gestures wildly as she tells her stories and Camila can see it clearly.

Her excitable little girl, in this older, mature, young woman sitting next to her, and for the first time in years, doesn't feel the hollow ache in her heart that had been present since the day Luz had disappeared.

It's when Luz is gesturing wildly with her hands that Camila notes the glint on her left hand and gasps, making Luz stop.

"What?" She blinks and Camila grabs her left hand and is looking at the silver ring and it's glinting violet, and white, oval stone.

Oh

"You're married, Mija?!" Camila all but shouts. She missed her daughter's wedding?!

"Engaged, actually…" Luz grins. Guess she was going to tell her about Amity now. "Just a week ago in fact."

"Engaged! Tell me, tell me all about him!" Her mother is smiling.

"Her, actually," she says nervously. Her mother had known she was bi, but she had been fourteen at the time and this was a totally different thing.

"Tell me about her." Her mother still demands and Luz smiles.

"Her name is Amity… we've been together six years, since that first summer…"

Luz then launches into what she refers to as an epic tale of romance and adventure.

Even if it starts with Amity not liking her very much. She goes through it all.

Their first meeting at Hexside, the covention, Grom, grudgby, the masquerade and so many of the little moments in between up to Luz's proposal last week and then the finding of the portal door.

Camila asks many questions about Amity and everyone and makes faces throughout. Exasperated at so many of her daughter's antics and happy for all her triumphs.

By the end of it all, tears are welling up in her eyes again.

"I've missed so much of your life…," she says sadly.

Luz grabs her hands and holds them tightly between hers.

"You've missed some, but I promise you won't miss anymore." She smiles.

Camila nods but is frowning.

"You're not coming back to stay are you?" she asks and Luz frowns.

"No…" Luz shook her head. "The rest of my family… my friends… the love of my life... they're all back on the Bolling Isles...I've made a life there, besides, we both know I never fit in here… that's why you sent me to summer camp in the first place…"

Camila flinches at that. How often over the last six years had she wished with all her heart that she had never sent Luz away?

"You could have…" Camila starts but Luz shakes her head.

"Mamí, everyone at school hated me. I never told you about it because I didn't want you to worry, but no one wanted to be friends with me. They picked on me constantly. I was never going to be like them, but back home… I get to be everything and do everything I ever wanted. For my part in the rebellion, people respect me, I have friends that would do anything if I asked them and a fiancée who loves me," she says and squeezes her mom's hands. "The Isles are my home."

Camila sniffles but nods sadly.

"You really have grown up, Mija," she says.

"You can still be a part of my life. Now that the portal is working I can come to visit you anytime and you can come to visit me."

"I would like to meet your friends and Amity." She smiles and Luz grins brightly.

"You'll love her!" Luz promised.

Camila tells her about the very hard two years just after she disappeared and all the time she spent looking for her before finally giving up, and it makes guilt swell in Luz's gut, but she knows there's nothing to do about it now. She never stopped trying to find a way, it just never panned out anytime they thought they had a lead.

They talked for hours until Luz realizes the sun is coming up. She's been here since yesterday morning.

"Mierda!" She jumps up off the couch. "I've been here a whole twenty-four hours, Amity is probably worried about me!"

Camila stands, and though the last thing she wants is to see Luz go, she knows she must.

"Come back soon, please, Mija…" she says and Luz smiles and hugs her.

"I promise I'll be back in a day or two, I'll take you to meet everyone."

"I'd like that…" she smiles and squeezes her daughter tightly and walks her to the door.

Luz bounds down the steps and turns to smile and wave at her. Camila waves back, and then Luz is running down the street toward the woods. Camila stands on the porch, watching her go until she can't see her anymore.

She hops up the steps and opens the door and is relieved when she steps through into the demon realm. There was a small fear in the back of her mind that the door might not work.

As soon as she steps back out, into the backyard of the owl house, she can feel her connection to the Isles return, like stepping out of a stuffy house out into the cool fresh air. She breathes deeply and smiles as she runs around to the front of the house.

"Luz, your back!" Hooty stretched out to greet her, wriggling happily.

"I'm back," she grins at him and steps inside.

Lilith is sitting on the couch and looks up when she walks in.

"You're back!" She sounds relieved.

"Of course, is Amity here? I have a lot to tell her."

"No, she left early this morning, she… seemed upset." Lilith hesitates to tell her, but Luz deserves to know.

She frowns but nods. She would have to make up for that. She was gone longer than she meant to be and never meant to worry her.

"I'll talk to her when she gets home,"

"How was it?" Lilith asks curiously and Luz grins.

"Great. We had a lot to talk about but... I think my mom's gonna be okay. She just needs some time to soak it all up I think." She shrugs and Lilith nods.

"It is a lot to take in."

"Is Mom home?" she asks. And Lilith cocks a brow at that but nods.

"In the kitchen."

Luz walks into the kitchen where Eda is standing at their brewing station, working on something.

"I'm back!" she announces, making Eda look up, she looks relieved to see her.

"Hey, kid. How'd it go?" she asks cautiously.

Luz smiles and tells her all about it. Eda nods along, listening to her story.

"I think things are going to be kind of interesting, introducing mamí to everyone and the Isles," she chuckles.

Eda nods and Luz hums, walking over. Eda has been kind of quiet.

"Something up, momma?" she asks, hopping up on the counter next to where Eda is working. She shakes her head, the word stings her today.

"Come on, tell me." Luz nudges her with her foot and Eda sighs, knowing that Luz isn't going to go away until she speaks.

"Lilith had me looking at the seating chart she's helping Amity with for the wedding, had me in the front row, but now that you got your mom back, she should have that spot, kid," she says.

"Huh?" Luz blinks at her owlishly. She can read between the lines. Is that what has her all down, she thinks that Luz isn't going to look at her as her mother anymore?

She has her mamí back, it's true, but Luz isn't going anywhere, and no one, even her birth mother could ever take the place Eda has claimed In her heart, just as Eda could never really take Camila's.

"Your mom should be in the front row at the wedding, Luz," Eda says, not looking up from the potion she's working on.

"You will be." Luz says, "and Mamí will be right next to you."

"Luz, it's ok…," she says quietly, and Luz's frown deepens.

"She's my mom... but so are you." She asserts.

"Luz you don't need to-" Eda sighs.

"You are," Luz affirms, cutting her off and hopping off the counter to stand eye to eye with the older witch. "You didn't have to take me in, take care of me, or teach me magic, but you did, for six years you did all these things you didn't have to. You certainly didn't have to love me, but you did, and I love you. You'll always be my mom, and you'll sit right next to mamí in the front row at my wedding where you belong," she tells her, leaving no room for argument, and for the first time since Luz can ever remember, tears are starting to drip down Eda's cheeks. It's been some close calls over the years, but this is the first time she's ever openly shed tears in front of Luz.

Eda wraps her arms around her, chin on her shoulder and Luz squeezed her back just as tightly.

"I love you too, kid." Eda sniffles and Luz smiled, burying her face in Eda's shoulder as tears stung at her own eyes. She's been doing way too much crying lately.

She pulled back and Eda wiped at her eyes just as the front door opened, and they can hear Amity and Lilith talking.

"Hey babe, in here!" Luz called and a second later Amity is standing in the doorway, gold eyes wide.

"You're back!" A bright smile broke out across her face as she hurried to close the distance between them and wrap her arms around her.

Luz laughed, squeezing her fiancée tightly.

"Of course. I told you, I would be." She pulled back enough to kiss Amity's cheek.

"I know, I was just… worried about you, that maybe you missed your home more than you thought you would… that you might not come back..., " she admits sheepishly. Luz can hear the 'to me' in her words.

"I missed mamí, but my home is here, with you, Amity," Luz assured her with a squeeze.

Amity pressed her smile into Luz's neck and squeezed her back.

Once Amity was thoroughly reassured Luz pulled back and grinned at her.

"She can't wait to meet you!"

"Meet me?!" Amity squeaked.

[sgstories123]

The Story of Alex Part 5

“Alex, bring the monthly financial statements to Chairman. Judy usually does this but she called in sick today. You worked with her on this, right? Make sure you are familiar with the numbers because Chairman sometimes like to go through the details.” Michelle advised before passing a thin file containing a few sheets of paper to Alex.

Alex has worked for a couple of weeks in the Business Strategy department. He enjoyed his work in the new department but more importantly, he enjoyed working with his new departmental colleagues. His department had mostly female staff. They were also younger and prettier than most of the female staff in the other departments. It was nice to be surrounded by them.

When Alex entered the Chairman’s office several minutes later, he found the Chairman first looking expectantly but quickly changed to a look of disappointment.

“Are you here with the statements? What happened to Judy?” The Chairman asked.

“Judy called in sick so I am replacing her to submit the report.” Alex replied.

The Chairman smiled. “How can you replace her?” Then he looked at Alex’s downcast face. “Oh. Don’t be mistaken. I don’t mean that you are not capable. I am sure work-wise, you are just as good as Judy.”

Alex looked confused.

The Chairman laughed. “You already know what I am like. As a man, I will be frank with you. Judy gives me a blow job when I go through the statements. If I spot a mistake, I will spank her ass. Now, I am sure you cannot replace Judy and give me a blowjob. Nor do I want to spank your ass.”

Alex smiled. He was relieved that it had nothing to do with his job performance. He was really enjoying his work here and wanted to stay as long as possible. Plus, the pay was good.

“Well, I still need to see the statements.” The Chairman held his hand up for the file. Alex handed it over and for a short instance, he was worried that his ass would be spanked. He shook his head. Nah. The Chairman is as straight as an iron rod.

The Chairman became another person when he was going through the statements. He looked serious and thoughtful. He asked a couple of questions and Alex was relieved that he was able to answer them confidently. Afterall, he had worked hard over the report with Judy.

“Did we get a new printer for the marketing collaterals?” The Chairman asked.

“Yes, The Marketing department changed the printing company last month. It is slightly cheaper and according to the Marketing department, the quality is comparable. As usual, we will be monitoring the new vendor for the next 3 months.”

“Crystal made the decision, right?”

Alex panicked. He did not know who made the decision. He only had the financial statements.

“I will need to check on that. But we were informed of the decision by the Marketing department. Crystal will likely know about the decision.”

The Chairman did not seem happy. He picked up his phone and commanded curtly “Get Crystal into my office now!”

Alex was breaking out in cold sweat. Did he fumble in his first presentation to the Chairman? He tried replaying the scenario in his head. Was there a better answer?

“Go seat at the sofa there while we wait for Crystal.” The Chairman pointed at a sofa at the corner of the office and he resumed typing on his computer.

Alex spent the next few moments in awkward silence, thinking about what he had done wrong. Judy would have simply turned up her ass to be spanked. But he is not Judy and the Chairman is clearly not interested in spanking him. He was more worried that the Chairman will be firing him.

Finally, Crystal walked into the Chairman’s room.

“Did you change the printer?” The Chairman demanded without any pleasantries when he saw Crystal.

“Yes. The new printer is cheaper and the quality is just as good. We have been discussing the contract for a while and finally decided last month.” Crystal replied.

“Did this has anything to do with Alan, the new sales manager?” The Chairman eyed Crystal suspiciously.

Crystal was obviously uncomfortable. She shifted her weight and tried to respond calmly. “Yes, he was very accommodating to our terms. It was a good deal. The company will be able to lower its cost with this new printer.”

“Accommodating. Anything else that he was accommodating to? Don’t lie to my Crystal. You know I hate liars.” There was menace in the Chairman’s voice.

“No. I don’t think so. It was just the terms. Lower prices.” Crystal seemed to have lost her cool.

“You slut! You signed the contract because you wanted him to fuck you!” The Chairman almost shouted.

“No! I am sorry, sir. I love you. You know I love you. But you seemed to be ignoring me and Alan was there. And I needed some attention.” Crystal gushed. “Yes, I slept with him. But it was only once. And I regretted it.”

“You are lying! You loved having a young cock shoved up your cunt. You are a bloody whore.” The Chairman spoke quietly but it was clear that he was angry.

“No! I did not enjoy the sex at all. You are the best. No one comes close. Not Alan. Not anyone in this world.” Crystal was sobbing.

“Then prove it.” The Chairman said softly, after a pause. “Alex here will fuck you. If you even make a moan of pleasure, then you are lying. You are a slut craving for young cock. But if you remain silent, then I will believe you that it was a moment of weakness.”

Crystal looked at Alex, seemingly only to notice him for the first time. Without saying another word, she removed all her clothes and lay down on the large conference table in the room, legs apart, exposing her vagina.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” The Chairman looked at Alex. “Make her moan in pleasure, as loudly as possible. You can do whatever you want with her but I want to hear her moan.”

The Chairman then went back to his work, typing on his computer.

Alex was dumbfounded and continued to sit in his chair.

A few keystrokes later, the Chairman turned and glared at Alex. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Alex woke up from his stupor and quickly undressed himself. What a crazy day!

He walked over to the conference table and stared at the naked Crystal. Even though Crystal was in her thirties, she still had a good figure. She had large breasts and a small waistline.

Alex climbed onto the conference table and stroked her thighs. Her skin was smooth and without any blemish. He drew his fingers across her stomach, reaching her pubic hair. She must have trimmed it. He pushed his fingers into her slit but it was too dry for him to make any headway. He lowered his head and started licking her cunt, parting her inner folds with his fingers. Finding her clitoris, he pushed and licked it with his tongue. At the same time, his hands moved up to her breasts, massaging them. His fingers found her nipples and alternated between squeezing them lightly and running circles around them.

Crystal bit her lips. She knew that she needed to remain silent to gain the Chairman’s trust again. But Alex was doing such a good job eating her out. In a different situation, she would be screaming in lust, but now, she must control herself.

Alex, on the other hand, was getting frustrated. There did not seem to be any reaction from Crystal at all. She was getting wet and he could push his fingers all the way into her love canal, but there was no sound nor movement from Crystal. Now he understands why his friends had said that fucking a woman who is not interested in sex is like fucking a dead fish. It is all slimy and wet, but there is no reaction at all.

Alex decided to change his tactics. He continued to finger her but moved upwards to suck on her breasts, licking her nipples and tugging them gently with his teeth. He caressed her nape and licked her ears, hoping that those were her erotic zones. But he will never know because Crystal continued to close her eyes and kept quiet.

“A word of advice, young man. She is a slut. These foreplay are wasted on her. Just fuck her. The rougher you are, the more she likes it.” The Chairman seemed to have shifted his attention from his work to the live show in front of him. Did something similar happened in the past? If not, why did Crystal behaved as if she knew what was expected of her? She had removed her clothes and climbed onto the conference table without any instruction from the Chairman. Alex could not help wondering.

But Alex did not dare to wonder too long. He positioned his already hard cock at the entrance of Crystal’s cunt. He looked at Crystal for a final time to check if she was okay for him to put his cock in but her eyes were still closed. He looked at the Chairman but he seemed to be impatient and about to admonish him again. He did not dare to linger any further and pushed his cock into Crystal’s already wet cunt. He was not expecting Crystal to be tight like a young girl but it was still difficult to push his whole length in. He lifted her legs onto his shoulders and pulled her ass up so that it rests partly on his thighs. This gave him a better angle and allowed him to push deeper into her. When he was finally all the way in, he saw Crystal’s mouth opened momentarily. She seemed to be gasping but it was too inaudible.

Alex was encouraged. Crystal can be broken. He smiled to himself. He pushed her legs and ass up higher, freeing his legs. Using his cock like a piston, he started hammering her cunt relentlessly. Crystal’s body was almost curled up like a ball as her knees reached her head. Alex was not only fucking her deeply but also quickly. With each stroke, Alex pulled his cock almost out of her cunt, only to dive deep again as far as the length of his cock allowed. Several times, his cock popped out of the cunt entirely but this is almost immediately rectified with his cock shoved back deep.

Alex was now grunting with his efforts and beads of perspiration were falling down onto Crystal’s body. But besides that, there was hardly any other noise in the room. The conference table was made of solid oak and despite the fervent activity on it, there was no creaking noises from it like some old bed. When Alex glanced at the Chairman, his mood seemed to have lifted. He was nodding in an approving way and smiled at Alex.

Well, my job seems safe now, Alex thought. He looked at Crystal and could see that she was trying hard not to moan. Her face was clenched up and she was biting her lips so hard that he could see blood. Her eyes were shut so tight that lines were starting to form at the edges. Sorry Crystal, but it is either your job or my job. I will need to fuck you even harder just to make you moan.

Alex increased his pace. At the same time, he started attacking Crystal’s breast and nipples with both his mouth and hands. It was getting more frenzied and he was biting her nipples harder. Crystal could not control much longer. She was starting to whimper, hoping that it was not loud enough for the Chairman to hear.

At that moment, the phone rang. Alex stopped his pounding and looked at the Chairman. Crystal heaved a sigh of relief and tried to calm herself down.

“What? Why the sudden change in plans?” The Chairman sounded upset. “Okay. Tell Lawrence to join me at the meeting. Meet me at the lobby in 15 minutes with the documents.”

The Chairman put down the phone and looked lost in thought for a moment. Then he smiled and walked over to Alex and Crystal. Alex was still in the same position as when the phone rang, hard cock postponed just outside Crystal’s cunt.

“Alright Crystal, a deal is a deal. You did not moan when Alex was fucking you so I will forgive you. But you know, you are also lucky that I had to attend an urgent meeting. Looking at you, I don’t think you can last for another 5 minutes. You will most probably be screaming with lust.”

Turning to Alex, the Chairman continued. “Good job, young man. I am starting to like you even more. You did not make her moan in pleasure but you fuck her real good. I want you to join me this weekend at a gathering. Talk to Lawrence, the Director of the Legal Department and he will give you more details. I need to go off now.”

The Chairman then walked over to his desk, put on his coat and pulled a file from his cabinet. He walked to the door and before he left the room, he turned around and smiled.“Alex, you can continue enjoying yourself with Crystal. Get her to go on her knees to give you a blowjob. That’s her best trick. And you should fuck her from the back, against the wall. That will definitely make her moan.”

The door closed softly after the Chairman.

Crystal opened her eyes and looked at Alex. “Now fuck me properly and make me cum.”

[tragedybunny]

Wise Men Say, Only Fools Rush In - Chapter 1: Welcome to the Jungle

What I had expected was an interview, a proper face-to-face with the chance to prove my suitability to my potential superiors. What I had was maybe twenty minutes on the phone with the notorious CEO before he cut me off abruptly. “That will be enough for today, Ms. Du Couteau. I’m perfectly convinced your Father is correct and you will be more than sufficient for the role here.” From the moment he spoke I’d noticed that while rich and cultured, his voice carried a certain quality to it, a sense of superiority, as though he held himself above those around him. It seemed to me that it was genuine confidence though, unlike Father’s smugness, which always seemed to be from a place of compensating for whatever. As rich and powerful as he, I could only think he had short man syndrome with his insecurities. There was something dark as well in the tone of this Mr. Swain, he was not a man to be trifled with. “Provided you do not prove to be inept in some way I can’t predict.”

It was probably unwise that I gave in as I felt my temper flare at the unnecessary condescension. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Swain. I can’t wait to prove myself sufficiently competent for my future with Noxus Holdings.” The sarcasm rolled off my tongue before I could catch myself, my eyes going wide and a hand moving to cover my mouth as though that could undo what I’d said.

There was a long pause on his end and I held my breath, sure that I’d just burned this whole thing to the ground. “Very well, we’ll expect you in two weeks. I’ll have all the details forwarded to you.” I could’ve sworn he sounded almost amused and I died a little bit inside.

Hanging up, I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and was thankful I was alone so no one could see their crimson hue. Had I really just snapped at the most important person at my new employer, the CEO of the company that my whole future hinged on? And he hadn’t said anything. Either this was one of those “I like her moxie” types of situations or there would be hell to pay later. The latter was usually the case for me anyway.

It was with that peculiar encounter in mind that I found myself waiting in the lobby of Noxus Holdings wearing a subdued gray suit, hoping to look less like the hot-head I’d proven to be over the phone. I swallowed a nervous exhale and glanced around, a carefully constructed fantasy of an industrial office space from a century ago surrounded me, all glass, and iron, and deco style windows. An escort from my department should arrive at any moment, and I wanted to be damn sure I looked as cool and confident as possible. It wasn’t as if the job itself would be a challenge, contracts and fending off lawsuits from angry ex-employees and investors, nothing I hadn’t done before.

“Red!” A richly accented, yet horrifyingly familiar and obnoxious voice broke the quiet ambiance of the lobby. The pair of receptionists on duty shot furtive glances toward the source in unison before returning to what they were doing. Standing just in front of the elevator, a black suit with a yellow blouse perfectly accenting her bronze skin, was a woman I’d hoped I’d left behind on graduation day, Samira.

How had I missed that this was where she’d ended up? I’d stayed in touch with some of our old sorority sisters, and they kept me in the loop on a lot of the gossip about everyone. It made a lot of sense though, she had a truly vicious nature, there was no way she wasn’t thriving here. I inhaled, feeling a slight twitch in my eye at even this small interaction, and walked toward her. “Hello Samira, it’s been a while.” My voice remained level and surprisingly pleasant, I just needed to treat her like every troublesome, idiotic client I’d ever been assigned, even if I felt irritation clawing at every one of my nerves. It had always been like that, something about her just grated on me.

“A while!? We haven’t talked since the Phi Sigma Tau farewell party.” The wind was suddenly knocked out of me as I found myself in a very unwelcome embrace. “Not that anybody saw much of you that night, well except Garen. Not that I blame you, a moonlit beach, a few good drinks, perfect romantic atmosphere.” I was freed only to be nudged harshly with an elbow as Samira leered at me in a teasing manner. “And I heard he saw quite a bit of you out there on the sand.” The laugh that followed was at least quiet enough that we didn’t instantly become the center of attention.

An involuntary snort escaped me and I felt irritation starting to give way to outright anger, my mind buzzing and my vision starting to tunnel. “I’m surprised anyone noticed with the other incident that happened that night.” My pleasant mask remained in place but reminding her I wasn’t the only one with a story from that night filled me with a sense of petty satisfaction, especially since hers ended with the wail of police sirens.

“What can I say, it was a wild night all around.” Her arm looped through mine and she began to drag me toward the elevator. “See, it’s just like old times.” For a moment I wondered if she could truly be this oblivious to my intended insult. That was answered a moment later she leaned in and violently whispered in my ear. “Don’t think you can fuck with me Red. Your Daddy’s name isn’t going to get everything just handed to you here.” I’d just made horrifying mistake number two. There was no way she hadn’t been baiting me to see what reaction I’d have. With reckless force, she jabbed the elevator button and spoke in a more audible and warm tone. “I’m sure we’ll find ourselves to be best friends all over again.”

I nodded silently, not wanting to give her a response that would encourage her further. These last few moments had brought my new reality into stark clarity. I hadn’t expected to waltz in and find myself in a top position with no work on my part, but I hadn’t anticipated that I’d be met with outright hostility. If it was just Samira that would be one thing, but were there others lurking in the shadows that I’d have to wary of? Maybe deep down I had still had some delusion about the family name being a shield of sorts, those were just entirely shattered. It would get me no further than it already had.

A vintage styled, cage-like elevator came to a stop before us. An insistent tugging on my arm pulled me into it after her, her pleasant smile frozen into place. The doors closed, a cheery ding sounded, and we dropped all semblance of civility to glare at one another. “My dear,” my eyes rolled reflexively at the honeyed tone, “we are going to be working very closely. Try not to lash out every time I make a harmless joke. I know you are used to things being smoothed along in the family business.” Nails dug into my palm, there was no way she could know the truth, but still, I fought an urge the physically quiet her.

I know a powerplay when I see one, this whole scene had been staged to give Samira a sense of dominance in our new arrangement. And there was no way I could retaliate with her seniority over me. At least not yet. I could feel bile creeping its way up my throat as I realized that if I was going to succeed and build my life of independence, there was nothing I could do about it right now but live with it. There was the small consolation that I gleaned something else from this encounter, if Samira was taking direct action it was because she was threatened. I’d always been the better lawyer, all throughout school and our intern days. It was likely I wouldn’t end up having to live with her antics for long. To that end, I released a breath and relaxed my shoulders. “You’re right. Let’s start this whole thing over. It’s good to see you again Samira.”

A small noise of approval escaped her and she turned away to face the elevator doors, clearly satisfied with my conciliatory act. Well, even if she had won the battle for today, there was still a war to be fought. Another high-pitched ding and the cage stopped at one of the upper floors. The same aesthetic carried through here, exposed venting ran along the ceiling, gray carpet accented the dark wood and iron-finished metal of the walls, artfully uncovered “antique” light bulbs illuminated anywhere the natural light from those same intricate windows from the lobby didn’t reach. “We should really track down Darius and I’ll introduce you.” There was an implication she was doing me a favor. Another small irritation, the whole department reported to him, it was expected we’d meet. “He’s the VP and also head’s up the acquisition team along with lega-Ah!”

Samira had turned to speak over her shoulder at me and midspeech was physically halted by a collision with a figure appearing from around a corner. I stifled the laugh that bubbled up, she’d desperately deserved that little impact. “Sorry Sam, don’t kill me. Well hello there new and gorgeous.” His tone shifted from apologetic to a practiced arrogance somehow in perfect harmony with the goatee he sported, one that I can only imagine he believed was attractive. The obvious leering that accompanied his words left me with the urge to bury my knee in his groin.

“Draven, this is Katarina, she’s just starting with us in legal. Should I let your brother know what a warm welcome you’re giving his new employee?” The newcomer’s face visibly became several shades paler. Interesting, it would seem that Noxus was also a place of family ties. “Kat, this is Draven, head of marketing.” For once, I couldn’t blame her for the annoyance coloring her words.

A hesitant hand reached out toward me and I made sure to lock my grip on it firmly. Years of martial arts as a hobby had left me with deceptive strength in my small frame. Pale blue eyes widened at the sudden pressure as I smiled sweetly. “Very pleased to meet you Draven.”

Shockingly, he returned my smile when I released his hand. “You’ve got a bit of a spark, I’ll bet you fit in just fine. Lookin’ forward to working with ya.” Wordlessly, Samira led on as Draven waved pleasantly behind us. “Be nice to this one Sam!”

An irritated sigh escaped her, but she waited until we were out of earshot to speak again. “Nicely done,” a compliment, he must really rub her the wrong way, “he’s harmless, but it’s good to keep him on a short leash.”

The hallways we passed through lacked the small cubicle farms you would find on the lower floors, instead, there were plenty of offices, conference rooms, and occasionally open-plan shared workspaces for teams who worked closely together. It was in one of those workspaces, bordered by offices, that Samira finally stopped. The buzz of those gathered in the area halted, and all eyes turned toward us. Silence reigned even as the curious examination of the newcomer was evident. “Everyone, this is Katarina, our new team member I told you about.” Murmurs welcoming me to the group responded, they were subdued though, as if they were afraid to be too excitable in front of Samira.

Despite the outwardly friendly moment, I kept my face neutral, and voice aloof as I returned their greetings. Any group within a company this high profile would be extremely competitive, and I’d be damned if I was going to start by giving off an air of weakness. They were probably already appraising me, deciding if I was any real threat to their positions.

“I see I’m right on time.” A deep voice cut through the subdued chatter and a massive figure approached us. Clad in a simple, but clearly expensive suit, his presence seemed to fill the entire space as he exuded a calm confidence. There was also something familiar about him, I was sure he had been at the family firm before.

“You couldn’t give me an hour before checking in, could you?” Indignation caused her voice to go up an octave in pitch, an effect that was quite satisfying for me.

The newcomer’s eyes narrowed dangerously, my first taste of the office hierarchy in action. Impatiently he gestured for us to follow, and not wanting to seem daunted by the sparks, I cut in front of Sam, following to an office that was nearby. Once the door was slammed behind us, I realized it was her office, the degree proudly displayed on the wall bearing her name. Tension enveloped the three of us. “Don’t start Sam. I’m not trying to babysit you.”

She clicked her tongue and muttered in defeat. “Fine, just make it quick.”

The full attention of the room fell on me. “Darius Basilich, pleased to finally meet my newest team member.” He held out a hand for a much more dignified handshake than the one I gave his brother. “Sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk before now, Jericho doesn’t always give us a head’s up when he’s decided something.” The gruff words had a frankness and sense of honesty about them that was refreshing. I took note of the use of Mr. Swain’s first name, it was good to know who he was that comfortable with.

Releasing his hand, I could recognize that he’d be my first ally here and one that I needed on all fronts. “I believe we’ve met previously, while I was interning for my father.”

In answer, he offered a small, but genuine smile. “Thought you looked a bit familiar. Must have been when I was wrangling Draven out of that mess.”

Sam, who had sat behind her desk and started furiously typing, snorted. “Your brother is always into something.”

My expression must have faltered because he let out a weary sigh. “I see you’ve met. Anyway, great to have you on board. It was a shock that Marcus was willing to let one of the kids go.”

My stomach crawled as I recalled the last two weeks of verbal abuse I’d gone through, not just from Father, but Cassie as well. All because I dared to leave them. I was never more grateful for my apartment, that space that was mine alone, and no one could spoil it. Leaving the family manor was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. Of course, I couldn’t get into any of that, so I just shrugged nonchalantly. “Who would’ve guessed.”

“I’ll let you get settled in, we’ll talk again soon. Sam, play nice.” They glared at each other one last time before he exited.

“You two have a problem?” I ventured. Knowledge was power, so I needed to get the lay of the land quickly.

Laughter met my words. “Nah, Darius and I just have an endless pissing contest. He’s alright, but I am going to replace him as the boss’s favorite eventually.” No surprise it was some obnoxious game of hers. “Anyway, let’s get you settled in the office, I’m sure it’s not the posh corner you had a Daddy’s, but you weren’t expecting that anyway.” If the thought of returning to him defeated didn’t make my stomach heave, I would’ve knocked her out cold. Instead, I shot her a cold look and followed to my new office; small, windowless, and suspiciously right across from hers. A few seconds later we were joined by a short, pale woman with tight pinned brown hair and ice-blue eyes, about our age. “This is Alyssa, she’ll get you set up.”

Several hours, and an aching back later, my mind was completely overloaded with passwords, computer systems, and file paths. Stretching, I felt the siren call of the cozy little cafe I’d spied in the lobby. Turning to Alyssa, I could read in her expression she was in the same mind frame I was. She’d proven to be easy enough to get on with, that was one victory for the day. Our backgrounds intersected in a way, she’d come from a family business as well. However, she’d sold her share of the ownership of Ironspike Industries to Noxus on her way through the door. It had been a nice payday and guaranteed her a stable career no matter what. Most would consider it a cold-blooded move, but I could get the perspective that family wasn’t always sacred. Besides, she laughed easily enough and had a comeback for every bit of banter. “Hey…”

The door flew open with a sudden violence, Samira standing behind it. “You’ve been summoned Red.” A hefty binder dropped from her arms onto my desk with a resounding thud. “It’s been requested that you escort this up to the top floor for Mr. Swain. He wants to read through it before it’s presented to the board and he has a hard-on for physical copies.”

My heart lurched as I rose from my seat. I hadn’t expected it to come this soon, meeting the CEO I’d had the gall to snap at. “Well, wish me luck Alyssa.” My voice was deadpan flat and Samira gave me an odd look. Maybe the incident hadn’t become common knowledge as I’d feared.

The elevator ride was not nearly long enough as the gilded cage ascended the final few floors to the very top of the building. I stepped out, binder held in front of me like a shield, only to realize that Samira hadn’t given directions beyond the floor. An empty receptionist’s desk stood sentinel, the occupant clearly out to lunch. Beyond it was a foyer with branching hallways. Hesitantly, I stepped forward to glance down them. “End of the center hall.”

The deep voice from nowhere caused me to jump a little. Darius, of course his office was up here too. “Thanks,” I ordered my voice to remain cool and collected.

“Let me guess, Sam neglected that bit?” He chuckled slightly. “She really wants to assert herself with you.”

“It seems a certain level of ruthlessness is the Noxian way.” Some of the tension faded. Despite the fact that he was very nearly a literal giant, Darius was much less intimidating than you would think. In fact, there was almost a warmth to him.

He shrugged. “We buy and sell other companies. We have the whole of another person’s world in our hands. It helps to keep an edge about you. Although I imagine it’s not a problem with your background.”

It would seem that everywhere I went, the Du Couteau name would haunt me. If I wasn’t outright reviled for it, I was at the very least, notorious. Father had a reputation for ruthlessness, a reputation that had been handed down the generations with the firm starting with my great-grandfather. “You’re not wrong.” Even if I was shadowed by the name, the lessons I’d been taught in the cause of that reputation ensured I could be cut-throat when necessary. His words reassured me that even if the name itself couldn’t, the legacy of it could definitely serve me here. “Catch you around Darius.” I gave him a confident smile and a wave as he headed toward the elevator.

The walk down the hall was short with no other offices present and ended in an impressively large door made of dark stained wood. Before I could give it any more thought, I quickly knocked. “Enter.” The voice from the other side sent a shiver down my spine with the combination of confidence and callousness that I recognized from the interview. Again, I couldn’t hesitate, so I obeyed the order as quickly as possible. Afternoon sun streamed in from a wall of windows across from the door, throwing the massive desk to the right into shadow. Contrary to the sleek, artistic industrial look of the rest of the building, this office had the look of a cozy personal study. High-backed chairs surrounded a table to the left, bookshelves lined the walls. The L-shaped desk was made of warm cherry wood with brass embellishments and looked like a genuine antique. “Ah, Ms. Du Couteau, we meet at last.” Looking up from his computer screen as I approached, he fixed me with a piercing gaze that I would swear could read my thoughts.

My breath rushed from my lungs. That cultured and captivating voice I knew, but the physical reality of him I hadn’t been prepared for. Elegant cheekbones and a proud nose gave him a regal bearing, but his high arched eyebrows and deep-set, midnight eyes put it under a pall of severity. The long mane of silken looking, white hair that flowed down his back could’ve offset it, if not for the scowl he was currently giving me. Overall though, his attractiveness took me by surprise, the elegant silver-fox not the visage I’d been imagining since our call. That fact critically distracted me, leaving me frozen where I was at the edge of his desk far too long. “Well, I don’t have all day.” Inwardly I cringed, what the hell was wrong with me.He motioned to the binder that I still clutched with a hand that gleamed bronze in an errant ray of sunlight that had fallen over us.

“Right.” I passed the burden into that outstretched, lustrous hand.

He all but snatched it from me. “Yes, it’s prosthetic. You could ask instead of staring.”

My eyes went wide with horror, I hadn’t realized that I had been. “My apologies, Mr. Swain.” My father’s triumphant laugh as I begged to return rang in my ears.

Turning his chair from his monitor, he dropped the binder with violence on the desk and began to thumb through it. The pace was such that it gave the impression it wasn’t the first time he’d seen it. “Did you have the opportunity to read through this?” He asked without glancing back up at me.

“No, I hadn’t.” Mercifully, my voice remained steady.

Turning it toward me, he tapped a fingernail on a paragraph. “Tell me what is wrong with this?”

Leaning down, I skimmed through it quickly, my mind translating the legal jargon without effort. At first glance, it was a contract for our purchase of yet another company. What had he seen in it? What was I looking for? Ah, it wasn’t a sentence, it was the whole paragraph. “There’s no commitment for the transition from the current leadership. They can dump and run, leaving us without support.”

“Very astute.” Well, he didn’t lose the scowl but there was a subtle note of approval in his voice. It felt like I could inhale again finally, I might still be able to salvage this. “Take it back down to Samira and tell her it will not make it to the Board this week. I want Darius to answer how that was overlooked.”

Warily, I gathered back up the binder as he sat back in his chair, on guard as though he were somehow dangerous. “Will that be all?”

“For now.” His eyes were drawn back to his monitor, and I began to turn away, sensing dismissal. “Fine enough job for the first day, Ms. Du Couteau.” The small compliment halted me mid-pivot, a small touch of warmth blooming in my stomach and a smile tugging my lips with the unexpected approval. I opened my mouth to answer, but was cut off. “Hmm, you know, this should be further reviewed. Samira already has a lot on her plate. Let her know that you’ll be taking the lead on this for the department. Darius will bring you up to speed.”

The world around me spun. Take that Father, I’m already getting the recognition I had to scrape and fight for every day with you, even when I’d accomplished something. “Will do, Mr. Swain.”

I strode from his office, feeling at the summit of the world, but a curious sensation of butterflies filled my stomach. As the door shut behind me, I let myself smile wide. I’d done it, sufficiently impressed him, the CEO with the ruthless reputation, the known hardass, the man with...with those captivating dark eyes. “Reign it in Kat.” Furiously I whispered to myself. “You’re engaged and you’ve seen attractive men before.” My mind betrayed me though, flooding me with the sensation of having those eyes focused on me as I walked.

Silently lecturing myself, I headed back to the elevator. The sudden vibration of my phone from my jacket pocket shook me from the cycle of my thoughts. Pulling it out, the notification seemed there just to judge me, Garen’s smiling face poised next to it. “Hey dear, how’s that first day going?”

[spritewrites]

birthday minutes

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: the Hargreeves siblings

Word Count: 2913

All eyes are trained on Ben’s wristwatch. “Okay, three… two… one… go!”

Allison rounds on Luther. “Okay, so what first?”

Luther’s grin takes up nearly all of his face. “Have you guys ever been to the museum?”

“Is that in the city?” Diego asks, his brow furrowing. Luther nods.

“By the library. I saw it on a map, and I found a pamphlet in the mail. They have an exhibit on airplanes all month.”

“That sounds boring,” Klaus groans, but Allison shoots him a look that shuts him up. He sighs. “I know, I know. But just wait until my turn, mine will be fun.”

–

Fifteen minutes and a bus ride later, seven pairs of loafers are marching single-file into the Argyle Technological Museum. Klaus decides he’d still rather be anywhere else, but Five is at his back pushing him along – “Move it, stupid, I want to see the rocket demonstration” – and Luther’s eyes are as big as saucers, so that’s something, he thinks.

They spend a little over an hour in the museum, grateful to finally be old enough that Mom doesn’t have to tag along. Five watches the rocket demonstration eight times, Allison finds a television hall that she drags Ben and Klaus into, and Vanya ends up spending most of the time in a movie that talks about the development of the automobile; she’s always wanted to learn to drive. Luther spends the whole time at the airplane exhibit, telling an unwilling Diego about all the different models. At one point, he even corrects the lecturer, which makes him very pleased.

Klaus isn’t very impressed with the television hall, but there’s one television that’s playing a station with live music that he gravitates towards. Ben ends up looking at one that’s playing the nature channel, and Allison looks at the enormous floor-to-ceiling pictures of movie stars. They’re much bigger than the posters she has in her room.

At one point Five points them toward an exhibition that has a picture of them, which is strange. They look at it for a few minutes, reading about the ways that their presence in the city has impacted the technology of the police force, but eventually they get too creeped out and have to leave. The long hallways of the museum take them all in different directions, scattering to all the little corners that hold never-before-seen treasures of information about the “real world.”

At five minutes to eleven, Five begins the Herculean task of rounding them all back up in the lobby. With just one minute to spare, they stare with enormous eyes as the little hands of Ben’s watch tick toward the hour. As the moment approaches, they begin the chant, with Klaus playfully pointing at each sibling when their number passes.

“Seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… go!”

Six pairs of eyes turn eagerly to Diego, who’s wearing a frighteningly mischievous smile. “Have you guys ever heard of go-karts?”

–

Vanya’s got her hands clapped over her eyes, screaming for her life. “Slow down, I’m gonna – HELP!” Klaus cackles, screeching around a corner, and Vanya lets out another yelp as she is shoved violently into the side of the car. “Klaus!”

“We can’t let them catch up!” her brother shouts over the whir of the engine, yanking the steering wheel just enough to cut off Diego and Ben, who are hot on their heels – er, tires. He laughs again when Diego lets out a frustrated yell.

“It’s my birthday, asshole!”

“It’s our birthday!” Klaus shoots back, sticking his tongue out.

Vanya sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, gripping the edge of the door with white knuckles. “When it’s my turn, we’re doing something more quieeeEET!” The kart spins nearly out of control, but Klaus has an iron grip on the wheel, and they skid to a halt inches from the wall that surrounds the track.

“Fuck,” Klaus mutters, and Vanya knows he’s not supposed to use that word, but the wild yell that Allison lets out as she and Five scream past them distracts her. Ben’s cursing too, on the other side of the track, and Diego’s whooping and laughing, and Luther (who’s too big to have a kart partner) keeps crashing into the rubber tires in the middle when he tries to turn. Klaus revs the engine again, and Vanya finds the small part of her that’s enjoying this and yanks it up from within, letting herself release a crazed shriek as they speed away.

At ten minutes to one, they all climb out, tip the go-kart operator with some wadded-up cash that Five has left over from last Christmas, each grab a piping-hot corn dog from a stand, and turn their red-cheeked, windblown faces to Allison.

“What’s next?”

–

Really, they should have known that Allison’s grin held too much mischief to be anything good. Diego nearly has to be dragged into her bedroom, kicking and screaming, but he knows the rules as well as any of them: whatever you choose, goes. For two hours, no matter what. And so, when Allison gathers them all on the floor of her room, in a neat little circle on the rug, she’s got them right where she wants them.

She looks each of her siblings dead in the eyes, lips quirking up into a smile as she gives Klaus a wink and asks slyly, “Who’s going first?”

Klaus’ hand shoots up in the air, and she sets to work. It’s hard with adopted siblings, since most of her palettes won’t suit them, but she figures she can scrounge up enough to cobble together a nice look for each of them. Luther puts on a record of a diva that Allison likes, and there in the pink glow of her room, she makes each of them beautiful.

Klaus gets his usual look and loves it instantly, of course, and Ben goes second, announcing that “he can do anything Klaus can do.” He actually comes out rather nicely, Allison thinks, with his little round cheeks stained with rouge. The rest of them aren’t so eager, so Vanya goes next, and Allison sweeps her bangs up and out of her eyes as part of the look; Vanya’s so shocked at the transformation, that she decides then and there that she’ll grow them out.

There’s a lot of shoving, but Luther ends up going next, and Allison revels in this because a) it’s Luther, and b) he’s got the lightest hair of any of them and she can use her chalk hair dye.

Diego nearly falls over giggling when she reveals the final product. “He looks like a troll doll!” he chokes out, but Allison fixes him with a glare.

“It’s my birthday, and I think he looks nice.” Luther turns bright red behind the makeup.

“It’s our birthday,” Five points out.

Allison glares. “Just for that, you’re going next.”

Five actually turns out okay, because Allison manages to highlight his dimples so that he looks like a model. He decides not to complain; after all, it’s her birthday.

Diego goes last, and Allison nearly can’t finish in time.

“Stop squirming.”

“It tickles,” he whines, scrunching up his nose as the brush passes over it again. Eventually, Allison has to get Luther and Ben to hold him down, but Luther’s so grumpy about Diego’s earlier comments that he keeps pinching his sides, making him yelp and whine even more.

“Diego, I swear, you’ve got to stop moving or this lipstick will get everywhere.”

“Luther’s – HEY! Luther’s torturing me, I’m gonna die!”

“Are not,” Luther mumbles, but he lets up enough for Allison to finish just as the clock downstairs alerts them that her two hours are up.

“Quick, go go go!” Five hisses, scrubbing at his face with a towel.

–

Klaus takes them all to a movie at the cinema, which they’ve never done before. They’ve seen some educational films as part of their schooling, and every now and then they’ll gather up enough quarters to rent a movie from the rental house down the street. They usually get horror movies that they can critique – “Eldritch tentacle creatures look nothing like that!” – but the look on Klaus’ face suggests that they’re not in the market for a horror movie.

Klaus makes sure that he buys the tickets, so the movie can be a “surprise.” That fills them all with a bit of trepidation, but their brother swiftly ushers them over to the concessions, and the almost overwhelmingly buttery smell of popcorn pulls any hesitation straight out of them. Armed with monstrously large buckets of salty goodness (and about a year’s supply of soda and Sour Patch Kids), they settle into plush oversized movie seats to see what Klaus has in store for them. Vanya looks the most nervous, but she always looks nervous, so the others don’t pay her any mind.

Ben isn’t so sure about the shit-eating grin on Klaus’ face as the previews roll, but whatever he’s anticipating, it’s nothing compared to when the film actually starts. The very second the others realize that Klaus has picked a rom-com – and not only that, a sappy rom-com – they all simultaneously groan and sink down in their seats.

“It’s the only one that was under the time limit,” Klaus protests by way of explanation, but the way that his bottom lip is caught gleefully between his teeth suggests otherwise. Luther decides then and there that as soon as this birthday is over, he’s making Klaus pay.

The movie isn’t hard to follow; it’s something about a girl with chronic amnesia and her fiancé who goes to war, or something. Maybe it’s the other way around. Five falls asleep halfway through, and the others have to nearly shake his brain out of his skull to stop his snoring. But when they all stumble out of the theater, blinking blearily into the mid-afternoon sun, Klaus looks pleased as punch. Nobody mentions that Diego’s eyes are suspiciously red and watery. After all, the twist about the love interest’s sister was pretty devastating.

Ben checks his watch. “Three minutes.”

Five rubs at his eyes, grumpy at being woken up. “We don’t need to wait. My birthday request is going to be all of you leaving me alone for two hours.”

Allison groans, shoving him. “Come on, for real.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to go home and take a nap and none of you assholes are gonna bother me for—”

“Five.”

He huffs. “Fine. Come on.”

–

“Really?” Vanya asks, her eyes wide as she steps over the sticky threshold.

“Shut up.” Five’s ears are red, but Klaus is bouncing on his toes.

“Awesome, Fiver,” he cries, making a mad dash for the first machine he sees.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in an arcade,” Allison says, pulling some money out of her pocket, “only seen it in movies. How’d you find this place?”

“I come here sometimes,” Five mumbles, and his shoulders are up by his ears, maybe to hide the flush.

Ben puts a hand on his shoulder, in the soft way that he always does. “What’s your favorite game?”

The redness around the tips of Five’s ears doesn’t quite go away, but his dimples appear for a heartbeat, and then he’s got Ben’s hand in his and is dragging him off toward a Skee-ball machine.

Luther finds a strength tester and spends forever trying to find the happy medium that would get him the tickets without breaking the machine, with Vanya cheering him on. Allison and Klaus play a memory game and nearly win twice, and Diego spends almost twenty dollars spinning a wheel to get about ten tickets, with which he buys a lollipop.

When they’ve almost exhausted their quarter supply, Ben tugs on enough sleeves to convince them to pile into the tiny photobooth in the corner of the arcade. The most reluctant, unsurprisingly, is Five.

“We have to commemorate your birthday!” Allison says, only half teasing.

“Our birthday,” Luther reminds her, and that gets Five mad enough to stomp his way through the curtain.

They almost don’t fit, between Luther’s big shoulders and Klaus’ bony limbs, but eventually they’re all squeezed in. Diego puts in a quarter.

“Say cheese!”

“No way,” Five begins to grumble, but then Allison’s skinny fingers are poking into his ribs, finding the space right between the two lowest ones that makes him giggle. When they print the picture, they all tease him about his big smile, ruffling his hair and poking at his cheeks until he’s swatting at their hands and threatening to put bugs in their beds.

“Shit!” Klaus cries suddenly. “Is it Ben’s turn yet?”

Ben’s eyes widen, and he checks his watch. “Two minutes over. Five stole my minutes!”

“You stole your own minutes with that picture,” Five snaps back, but Ben’s already headed out the door.

“Quick, come on, we don’t have much time before sunset!”

–

They get to the park just as the sun is slipping over the horizon, each munching on a street taco wrapped in thin foil in one hand, with a towering ice cream cone in the other – except Vanya, who had eaten her mint chocolate chip too fast and gotten a brain freeze and dropped it. Klaus skips ahead, only vaguely listening to Ben’s directions on where to go, and as such, when they reach the duck pond, he nearly falls in.

Ben’s pulling a bag of sliced grapes out of nowhere – “Bread makes them bloated,” he says, and the others nod because Ben knows what he’s doing – and before long they’re sitting around the pond, alternating between tossing the grapes to the ducks and eating them in little handfuls.

Luther befriends one of the ducks, and it’s cute for a while, until it gets greedy and starts chasing him around the lawn, quacking menacingly. (Luther’s screams of terror are hilarious to everyone, but Diego especially winds up coughing his lungs out on the ground, weak with laughter.)

Klaus does cartwheels down a hill, Allison and Vanya play chess on one of the park chess sets, and Ben shows Five how to hold your hand so the ducks can eat right out of it without nipping your fingers. Five isn’t especially keen on their beady little eyes, but he knows that he really did steal two of Ben’s birthday minutes, so he feeds the ducks as long as he can, even when their nibbling beaks tickle his palms dreadfully. Ben is fairly glowing with happiness, the last rays of light dancing in his eyes as they all help with spreading out a blanket on the wet grass. They sit in a big circle, identically cross-legged and straight-backed from years of practice.

“I’ll go first,” Allison says. “Once.”

“Upon.”

“A.”

“Time.”

“There.”

“Was.”

“A.”

“Dragon!”

“Who.”

“Lived.”

“In.”

“A.”

“Pineapple under the sea!”

“Klaus, that’s cheating.”

“But it’s Spongebob! Fine, fine, lived in a… dungeon.”

Over the course of the story, the dragon who lived in a dungeon saves a princess, eats a pizza, invents quantum mechanics, and has… adult interactions with a mango salesman. Eventually, the seven of them are laughing too hard to continue, and Five especially has tears of mirth streaking down his face.

“Okay, okay,” Ben gasps, clutching his stomach. “It’s almost Vanya’s turn.”

“Vanny?” Six heads swivel in her direction. Vanya flushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

–

“How is this different from a normal day?” Diego grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “We hear her play anyway—”

“Yeah, but you don’t listen,” Five hisses between gritted teeth. “And don’t be an asshole, it’s Vanya’s birthday.”

“Our birthday,” Diego mutters, but he falls silent when Vanya picks up her bow. She carefully plucks at the strings, tuning, as Klaus shoves a sharp elbow into Luther’s stomach.

“Move over.”

“Quit shoving.”

“I don’t think a twin bed was made for six,” Ben observes, kicking his legs over the side. “Not six superheroes, anyway.”

“I don’t think anything was made for six superheroes,” Five retorts, but Vanya’s clearing her throat.

“This one, um,” she starts, and her voice is a squeak. “This one’s Bach.”

When she starts, she starts softly, so as not to wake the other members of the house – it was past 9 p.m., after all – but gradually, Vanya picks up pace and volume, the music swelling out of her violin and washing over her captive audience. Her siblings are transfixed, eyes like saucers as her bow dips and twists over the instrument.

The Bach concerto ends, and almost immediately she’s on to a Brahms, then a Vivaldi, and when she glances up in the middle of her second Mendelssohn, she notices that her audience is gone. Well, not gone, exactly – fast asleep, cheeks flushed and mouths open, breathing deeply, fingers twisted into one another’s hair and clothing, clinging. She stops short, almost astonished, but realizes with a weight that she is also mind-numbingly tired. Maybe the split-time birthday system was fun, but it was also exhausting.

Vanya sets her violin back in its case, flicks off her lamp, kicks off her shoes, and clambers onto the bed, nestling herself into a spot between Five and Diego. She breaths out a sigh, and it feels like something within her releases a notch. Not much, but enough. She smiles, brushing Allison’s hair away from her sleeping face.

“Happy birthday, guys,” she whispers, and curls up among her siblings, content.