#my immersion WILL be broken if i have to scramble through my notes just to make this stupid fucking plot GO

[rxttenfish]

ive been listening to an actual play of a delta green campaign lately and they arent particularly good but are at least very watchable when i just need human voices in the background, and for context this campaign is very long with a lot of detail and takes place over several decades, plus the players have taken multi-month breaks in between seasons of the campaign.

but the dm is doing the really annoying thing of, when a player cannot remember something but their character would know it, just not telling them what it is nor reminding them. inadvertently punishing them for a very easy mistake to make in a campaign with so many tiny obtuse details like this. making it uncomfortable to unwatchable to actually have to sit through because its just not fun to see information constantly be dangled in front of your face and know you recognize it but not being allowed to know in detail any of it.

and honestly i just dont even know why dms do this. why anyone does this actually. like i understand the urge to preserve the mystery and encourage people to figure it out on their own but you can also just say "do you want me to tell you this or no", especially when theyre already positioning it from an out of character perspective of "my character should know this, please help". like ive been going through the entire campaign in all of two weeks and I dont remember this shit.

its one of those things where i just dont understand the benefit of. what benefit is there to frustrating your players and just denying them random shit because you personally feel like they should earn it. its not fun to listen to. i dont want to sit here and watch the dm get more and more high and mighty over this shit. plus its just not considering your audience, which is a thing you DO now have to consider if youre recording your games and putting them online in a fairly large production that makes you cash, and if you didnt want that then you shouldnt have recorded it in the first place. even moreso when some of these "puzzles" are actually fucking god awful and contextless and things that you would NEVER figure out on your own if you werent just told it already.

that and so many of this dms rulings are just bullshit too. like its hard to talk about them without giving specific examples, but it really feels like a perfect embodiment of people viewing the dm and the players as competing against each other when they arent and ruining the game for it.

[becausethathappens]

i love the way you write. can you tell me something nice to calm my nerves? my day has been awful and the way you write takes me out of it, instantly. *currently rereading everything you've written on ao3 ignore the kudos that might give this away 👀*

anonnnnnnnnn. 🤚💓

something nice: rhett and link have been together longer than i’ve been alive. (i’m more than three decades old. 😩)

and something short for you, because this made me blush:

-———————-

needs no conversation

1k - Rhett and Link duet for the first time.

songs referenced: yesterday’s wine / islands in the stream

-

Over a year passes after Rhett's voice dropped before he starts using it as regularly as he used to. More than once, trying to sing along to whatever's on the radio and having his voice crack and squeak has led to teasing from friends and family alike. He's gun-shy to hold a tune until he's sure the baritone that his register has changed to is permanent.

Poor Link's voice has only gotten higher, since around the same time, but the elasticity and charm of it suits his personality.

It's years into being grumpy, monosyllabic teenagers before they feel happy enough to sing aloud, let alone together.

One night, while they’re stuffed with pizza and sketching tree forts (they're sick of lugging all their things to the river, every time they swim and want a place to store belongings in the woods, closer by), Rhett finds himself singing along to Yesterday's Wine with a full-throated joy that makes Link's insides swirl. It's certainly the most he's used his voice, confidently, since it's settled on this octave.

Rhett's voice sounds good. Objectively good and better than it's maybe ever sounded.

Link, shyly, joins in because he's sure the longer he sits and listens, it'll become a problem for his head or his heart or both. It unsettles him.

He's not more than three seconds into the chorus, singing along with George Jones' section, when he notices that Rhett's set aside his writing instruments, as well, and is looking over at him.

In near the same way that Link was looking at him.

It's then, right that second, Link hears it.

The natural harmony they've stumbled across.

The song's over too soon. 

With busy eyes and unsteady hands, Link scrambles over to the tape deck to switch out to another song. The next up was a solo b-side from Merle's early work that won’t showcase what he’s just heard.

He picks the first tape with a duet he can find.

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers.

It's just to prove a theory, the song choice. Selected because Link knows it has two distinct singers. Not much thought going into it beyond that.

He pops the tape into the player and hits play. He feigns looking down at his drawings for a moment, like he's merely changing the background music and returning to them.

But after a few seconds, he can't withhold his interest and looks up. 

Rhett's still staring right at him.

And he doesn’t seem to have stopped this whole time.

As the music fades in softly, his eyes are soft and doe-y. 

To Link’s surprise, he starts to sing, clearly begging Link, wordlessly, to do the same in the next verse.

"Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb," Rhett begins.

Link stares at him, takes it in. He lets his ears adjust and come to grips with the fact that Rhett's voice really sounds that smooth and adult, overpowering Kenny's easily in the quiet room with the volume purposefully low.

They both know the lyrics.

"I was soft inside There was something going on," Rhett sings.

Link’s smile breaks wide, an outburst of shocked elation that Rhett sound only improves. He really sounds this good. Professionally good.

An idea bubbles into his mind, one he'd never dare to think if not so immersed in the candied daydream of hearing his friend's beautiful voice echo around the small bedroom for what feels like the first time. He's picturing Rhett singing this for an audience, his unused hand holding a microphone, as Link watches Rhett drum a steady one-two rhythm along with the beat into his thigh.

Link does the same and then immediately jumps in on the first harmony.

"You do something to me that I can't explain Hold me closer and I feel no pain Every beat of my heart We got something going on," they sing together.

Link's eyes dart back and forth, feeling zapped by the electricity of how their voices sound paired together. 

It’s not just Rhett.

He takes in that, to his ears, his voice sounds much deeper than it has in years. When he sings with Rhett, trying to match the key change, it feels like Rhett is sharing some of his baritone. His own lifts up, as though to meet Link halfway.

Their words tumble out over each other in a kind of velvety sophistication that makes Link picture them both on a stage performing. It makes Link's heart leap, how natural it would seem, were it to be like this.

"Tender love is blind It requires a dedication," Rhett belts out, getting into it.

Link grins and nods. They could lead the choir at church.

They both sing, "All this love we feel needs no conversation We ride it together, ah ha."

Rhett wiggles back and forth to the beat, Link joins in.

"Making love with each other, ah ha," they sing, blushing. 

Rhett laughs, inaudibly, in respect to the music, at how silly that line sounds, when sung by the two of them. 

"Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between How can we be wrong Sail away with me To another world And we rely on each other, ah ha From one lover to another, ah ha," they harmonize.

Link's eyes shine. They could start a band.

Link sings, "I can't live without you if the love was gone Everything is nothing if you got no one And you did walk in the night Slowly losing sight of the real thing."

Rhett's eyes are also shining back. Link is already sure that he'll agree to the idea. He hardly ever says no, in Link's experience. 

They sing, "But that won't happen to us and we got no doubt Too deep in love and we got no way out And the message is clear This could be the year for the real thing."

He pictures their names on a marquee.

Link closes his eyes and sings, "No more will you cry Baby, I will hurt you never."

He imagines their album cover, posed like Lionel or Merle.

Rhett joins him, "We start and end as one In love forever We can ride it together, ah ha Making love with each other, ah ha."

Link nods along, lost in fantasy.

"Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between How can we be wrong Sail away with me To another world And we rely on each other, ah ha From one lover to another, ah ha," they recite in tandem.

Link opens his eyes again and is struck by the fact that Rhett's eyes are also open or have still never closed. 

Once again the ZING of amazement bolts through him at how strongly the affection and pride on Rhett's face beams at him.

They sing, "Sail away Oh come sail away with me."

The chorus repeats twice, both of them staring like that the whole time, and Link fights the urge to reach out and join their hands as if in prayer. He's seen duets do that before, like Sonny and Cher. He understands the impulse, now. He wants nothing more than to chase this connected, harmonious feeling, now and perhaps the rest of his life.

Entertain himself and others, alongside Rhett.

As the song finishes, they sing, "Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between."

This is their ticket out.

A solo track ticks on next and the spell is somewhat broken. 

Link leans back and laughs, covering his mouth with both palms at once. 

Rhett settles, blushing, and hides his mouth with the back of his right hand. It also masks the smile growing fast at Link’s reaction. 

It feels like they've just discovered a secret too great for them to know.

"That was so good," Link tells him, honest.

"I 's just thinkin' that," Rhett agrees, chuckling. "Don't think I've ever been able to hold an melody like that. You hit the high notes dead-on."

"And that was some professional-grade crooning," Link assures him.

"Oh, don't know about that," Rhett dismisses.

"No, I'm serious. We should start a band," Link says, earnestly.

Rhett watches him for a few seconds, trying to judge whether or not he's serious. When he sees no hesitation, finally, he smirks.

"Okay," Rhett agrees, looking thrilled.

Link grins back at him.

"It's like it was written about us, too. We've got an island in a stream. If you could count the river as one. How’s that for song choice?" Link asks, playfully.

Rhett frowns. "That's... not what the song - it's about - " Rhett looks at Link funny, then continues, "It's not about that. D'you even listen to the lyrics?"

"No," Link answers, easy and truthful.

"You really wanna start a band with me?” Rhett’s eyes fall and he scratches the back of his head. “If you got distracted while I was singing?"

"Rhett, I got distracted by your singing," Link explains.

Rhett looks down. "Oh."

There's a long pause.

"Well, I got distracted by you, too."

Link's eyes widen.

"By your singing," Rhett adds, hastily.

Link rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Unsure how else Rhett would've expected him to take that.

The blush that warms his chest also brings with it a smile.

He rewinds the tape so they can begin again.

[wreckofawriter]

Minnie's Daughter

Pairing: James Potter x McGonagall's Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 3,984

Warnings: Swearing? None? Fluffy

Summary: When James finds out his favorite proffesser has a daughter he can't seem to keep her from his head

A/n: I fuckin loved writing this, I wrote it all today and I'm now finishing it at 12:46 at night. This is #12 from the fanfic vote and got the second highest number of votes, hope y'all enjoy! Look at me posting twice in one week

“Potter!” 

James flinched slightly before turning around a large grin plastered onto his visage, “Minnie! So good to see you!” He cheered 

The older woman rolled her eyes on instinct, “I told you not to call me that James. I am your professor you shall treat me accordingly.” she spoke sharply.

“Jeez, Minnie you seem more angry than usual.” The boy shuddered in his usual fashion; dramatically. 

She sighed rubbing her temple with one hand, “Just come with me, Potter.” 

“Yes, ma’am!” He saluted smile not faltering despite the nerves which now slowly consumed him. 

The two slowly made their way towards McGonagle’s office, something James knew a bit too familiarly. As they walked everything he had ever done flashed through his memory, the thousands of school rules he had abandoned, the laws he had broken, pranks he had pulled. What was he in for this time? It seemed there were far too many possibilities. 

The second that the door shut behind him he opened his mouth. 

“Minnie if this is about the Grindylows in the prefects’ bath, I had nothing to do with it, I swear on my life. That prank was simply untasteful and you know I would never do something so dull.” He defended putting on his most innocent mask. 

“Potter you aren’t in trouble, I simply- wait, what Grindylows are you talking about?” She asked brows furrowed.

The boy’s eyes widened, “Oh, um, i-it’s nothing you need to worry about.” He spoke his voice gaining false confidence. 

Another exasperated sigh left the professor’s lips but she didn’t address what she was sure to become a problem, “I simply wanted to talk to you about your plans for the quidditch team now that you are the captain.” 

“Ooohhh,” The boy nodded in understanding, a wave of relief washing over him. Excitement built in his stomach as quidditch was mentioned and he bounced happily on his heels a shimmer appearing in his dark eyes. “I can show you my workouts and plays and stuff if you want.” He offered eagerly, “I have some written in my bag.” 

“That sounds perfect James.” She grinned, “Bring them to my desk.”

He nodded walking forward while rummaging for the notebook he had spent the summer scribbling in. He found it and placed it on his professor’s desk before opening it’s worn cover and flipping through the pages. 

Both individuals quickly became immersed in the plans as the captain explained his workouts, strategies and more. In fact, they became so engrossed they didn’t notice a third figure enter the room.

You rolled your eyes as you heard your mother jabber about the sport she loved so much. You sighed walking up towards the pair being purposefully quieter than needed. You suppressed a giggle as you neared the duo. You stood just to the right of the boy who was crouched over his notes, you then leaned your head so your chin was resting just above his shoulder, you could smell the cologne he wore but ignored its sweetness. Your lips centimeters from his ear you spoke, “Whatcha guys talkin’ about?” 

The dark-haired boy let out a shrill shriek as your mother gasped in surprise.

You burst into a wave of laughter doubling over as the quidditch star glared at you, clearly offended.

“You scream like a four-year-old girl Potter.” You cackled blinking back tears. 

James opened his mouth to shoot back an insult but something stopped him. You looked oddly familiar, your eyes gleamed in a recognizable fashion, your smile all too common to his view. Despite this, he had no clue who you were. 

“Merlin y/n!” the professor gasped, “That was uncalled for.”

“Sorry, mum.” You giggled, “I couldn’t help it.”

In that exact moment, James’ bain imploded. His jaw dropped, eyes growing to the size of saucers as if he had just been slapped. 

“Minnie! You have a daughter!” he gasped, completely appalled by this new information. 

“James! You have a brain!” You mimicked him, false surprise emerging on your face. 

“Y/n, be polite.” Your mother scolded although it was hard to miss the smirk on her lips. 

James wasn’t even bothered by the jeer, he was far too preoccupied with attempting to figure out what the hell was happening. 

“It’s nice to formally meet you, James.” You grinned sticking out your hand for him to take, “I’m y/n y/l/n. Minnie’s daughter” 

He shook his head quickly his hair bouncing slightly before he took your hand, which he found surprisingly soft and slightly cold, “James Potter.” He mumbled before turning to the woman who had returned to the notebook. 

“Minnie!” He shouted.

You giggled at the nickname biting your lip lightly.

McGonagall’s eyes snapped upward dangerously but at this point, James was too shocked to care. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had a daughter!?” He asked in complete dismay, “I thought we were friends!”

The witch simply rolled her eyes, “If you had paid any attention to those around you, you would have noticed I had a daughter years ago.” She spoke, seemingly unfazed. 

“Minniiieeee. That’s not fair.” He pouted.

McGonagall shrugged. 

“Oooo, are those quidditch notes?” You asked peering over James’ shoulder like an excited puppy. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Yeah sur-” 

“No way.” your mother interrupted eyebrows raised as she peered over her glasses at you. 

Now it was your turn to pout, “But mum.” You attempted to reason.

James choked in a breath as you widen your eyes and jutted out your bottom lip. Did you always look this adorable?

“Nu-uh.” She shook her head.

“Why not?” You whined placing your hands on the desk and leaning over it attempting to catch a glimpse of the ink-stained pages. 

“Because last time I made the mistake of letting you ‘look through’ my quidditch notes, you charmed it and gave a copy to the Ravenclaw Captain.” She huffed, closing the notebook from your prying eyes. 

James gasped again, “That was you!” 

You nodded, smirking proudly.

“We lost the quidditch cup because of that!” He heaved. 

You just shrugged, “Yeah well, we won because of it.”

He glared back at you, tucking the notebook protectively under his arm. 

“Shit!” You swore glancing at the clock behind your mother’s desk. 

“Language y/n!” 

“Sorry, mum,” You yelled over your shoulder scrambling from the room, the door thudding against its frame as it closed behind you. 

James opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by you dashing back into the room. 

“I forgot what I came here for.” You groaned, “Where is my herbology textbook?” 

McGonagall opened a drawer in her desk handing it to you.

“Thanks, mum.” You rushed as you snatched it from her and sprinted back towards the door. 

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had a daughter.” James sulked, his eyes glued to where you had resided moments before. 

McGonagal was met with a hell storm when James spread the news of his new discovery. That hell storm’s name was Sirius Black. He had crashed into her classroom while she was in the middle of a class and began his tearful act. He whined and gasped and pouted, stating his betrayal and his loss of trust. 

The professor tiredly massaged her closed eyelids as his antics continued.

    Thankfully the other marauders were surprised but lacked the same gusto Black held, although James seemed to have a sudden problem on his hands. For some reason he couldn’t seem to pull you from his head, it was like you were cemented there, your giggle rinning in his ears as your voice echoed through his head. You were strangely captivating. 

He wondered if that’s how his professor had been in her youth, although he refused to picture McGonagall as beautiful. You were simply alluring, your entire aura drawing him towards you. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but he found himself needing to be near you. He foolishly allowed himself to wonder if you thought the same of him.

Your heart pounded lightly as you snuck to the owlery, you fought a wide smile as you climbed the seemingly endless steps, taking them two at a time out of excitement.  When you finally reached the top you let out a slight squeal noticing your large barn owl perched near the door. 

You whistled once and let it land lightly on your outstretched arm. You then carefully untied the thread from his leg taking the note in your hand and dropping your arm as your owl departed. You unthreaded the scroll and began slowly down the stairs as you read it. By the second line of words, your throat went dry. You could feel your heart beginning to throb painfully as the back of your eyes began to sting. 

You sped through the remainder of the letter a sob ripping from your throat as the words sunk into your skin. Your vision blurred and you grasped at the stone wall to your right. The wind tore overhead, suddenly the pleasant breeze felt threatening. You crashed downwards, the stone step you sat on causing shivers to conquer your body. You let tears drip down your cheeks and slide off your chin as you raked your hands through your hair. Another cry unlodged itself from your throat and echoed around you. You pulled one of your hands from your hair slamming it over your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut in mental agony. You bit your lip harshly bringing your shaking hands to your cheeks and wiping them dry. You gasped in a sharp breath blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. Finally, you shoved the letter into your robe pocket and stood continuing down the stairs as if nothing had happened. 

You saw this coming, you thought, you knew it would, why are you so surprised?

You shake your head blinking rapidly again. You slipped into the castle feeling emptier than usual, your heart still aching, your head starting to. You ran your tongue over your lips, feeling just how dry they were. Water rose to your eyes again and you swore, leaning your head back and squeezing them shut. 

“Y/n?” 

You snapped your head forward, eyes opening wide.

“Are you okay?” James asked walking towards you, concern etched into his sharp features. 

“Uh, hey James.” You spoke attempting to sound normal and failing miserably as your voice came out in a croak. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe you, he narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure?”

You coughed attempting to clear your suddenly clogged throat, “Yeah seriously, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look like it.” He responded eyebrows still furrowed. 

“Thanks.” You muttered sarcastically attempting a small smile. 

James felt his ears grow hot, hoping you didn’t notice in the dull light of his wand, “I-I didn’t mean it like that.” he spoke quickly, “I mean you look pretty today, umm I mean you always look pretty and uhh you just look a little worn out...But like not in a bad way! Just you uhh-”

Your giggle cut his rambles short, you bite your lip looking down at your feet, “You’re fine James, I was only joking.” You mumbled.

“Oh.” He replied sheepishly his cheeks flaming. 

The hallway fell into an awkward silence, tension feeling thick, like the air on a humid day. 

James coughed uncomfortably, “Do you want me to walk you to your common room?” he asked ruffling his hair, something you had the sudden urge to do. 

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You smiled sticking your hands in your pockets. You felt the letter you stowed away in your hand and you swallowed another sob. 

The two of you walked in silence, the only noise being your shoes on the floors of the castle. 

Your mind reeled, the words replaying, still raw in your head. 

You’re always gone at that boarding school. I never even see you anymore… I don’t know y/n/n we just lost something.  

You could feel tears begin to well again, your world falling blurry.  

 I just don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry.

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a strangled whimper halting where you stood and burying your head in your hands as your body shook. 

James turned toward you in alarm, his heart throbbed as you cried into your hands attempting to muffle the sound. He stood there for a second before taking a step towards you and wrapping his arms around you shaking form. 

You leaned into his touch, your head thumping as you wailed into the boy’s chest, your hands still pressed to your face. 

“Hey, you’re okay.” James cooed as he gently ran his hand down your back, “You’re gonna be okay.” 

He continued whispering sweet nothings in your ears, until you calmed a considerable amount, your sobs turning into shaky breaths and small sniffles. 

Your face felt hot, embarrassment took you over as your head began to clear. You pushed yourself from James’ hold.

“I’m sorry,” You chocked out, “I must look pathetic right now and I barely know you and I’m a fucking mess, I’m so sorry James.” you gushed attempting to wipe your face clean. 

James looked confused, “Y/n you have nothing to apologize for.” he spoke so softly you almost swooned. 

You stood quietly shifting back and forth on your feet, unsure what you were supposed to do now.

“What happened?” James asked, “If someone hurt you y/n I will beat-”

You laughed lightly, “No one hurt me, James, I just um.” You took a large breath release it slowly, “I just got dumped.” 

James's eyes widened, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” You huffed picking at your lips, “I mean it wasn't like I didn't see it coming, we had barely seen each other at all for the past year and honestly I don't think I have loved him since then, but we were together for so long, it just hurts. And I guess I’m just scared to be alone again.” You laughed bitterly at your own self-pitying rant.

“Did he just break up with you tonight?” James asked he seemed to hold a mixture of anger and concern in his dark eyes. 

“Well umm, he’s a muggle.” You spoke awkwardly, “I just received the letter.” 

“Oh.” James mentally slapped himself for repeating that word so many times. 

You chuckled stiffly, “It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal, I mean I saw it coming, I just didn’t think it would happen this soon.” 

“Obviously it’s a big deal y/n, you can be sad after a breakup.” He smiled down at you a certain shine in his eyes telling you there was more. “Do you still have the letter by any chance?”

You tilted your head in confusion, “I do.” You answered hesitantly, “Why?” 

“Wanna burn it?” 

You never wanted to do anything more. 

The two of you sat shoulder to shoulder in the astronomy tower watching as the letter your ex-boyfriend had sent burned. You felt a sense of relief as it turned to ash, its words and meaning disintegrating before your eyes. You sighed suddenly feeling exhausted as if someone had flipped a switch and drained you of all your energy. Your eyelids became heavy, breaths became longer and soon you felt yourself drifting into a dreamless sleep. 

James felt a light pressure on his shoulder and turned to see your head resting on it. Your y/h/c hair gleamed in the light of the small fire you had created. He smiled softly carefully brushing the loose strands of y/h/c from your face. He then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his heart thumping as his cheeks flushed red. 

He softly shook his head, what was he doing?

You and James grew surprisingly close, surprisingly quickly. It was frightening how well you got along. Whispers coated the halls of some secret relationship that blossomed between you. You always laughed it off as James grew pink and denied it entirely. 

The head boy had come to terms with his feelings for you the moment you fell asleep on his shoulder and he had been forced to carry you back to your common room solve an impossible riddle and get you in bed.  

He wasn't as smooth as he thought he was when it came to you. When he had liked other girls it was easy, he would just make a few flirtatious remarks ad then ask them out, but with you, it was complicated. 

First, there was the fact that you just got out of a two and a half year relationship. Then the fact that your mother was McGonagall. And of course, the fact that every time he tried to confess to you his words would get lodged in his throat and refuse to move. 

Day after day he told himself he would tell you, he would share the feelings that lodged themselves into his brain and heart. But as cliche, as it sounded days, turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and soon he was sitting across from you in the library thinking about how badly he wanted to push your hair from your face and decorate your neck with hickeys. 

But he kept his mouth closed cursing himself for every moment he let tick by which he didn't hold you in his arms. 

When he hit month four Sirius said he was hopeless and Remus agreed. James had become completely intoxicated by you. The dreams he had of you becoming lewd, looking you in the eyes became difficult as he could only think of how your lips would taste. 

Month five rolled around and James had decided he was hopeless, he had tried desperately to convey the message he kept bottled to you, but for being so smart you were extremely oblivious. Then the unthinkable happened. 

“James, can you stay after class please,” McGonagal asked, her voice sharp, but her eyes soft. 

James nodded numbly his mind wandering back to you, wondering if you had eaten enough for breakfast, you had slept in and only gotten there for the last five minutes. Maybe he would grab you a snack from the kitchens on his way to his next class and drop it off for you. Slughorn wouldn't mind if he was a bit late to potions.  

The class was dismissed and he stood from his seat absentmindedly standing to leave.

“James!” McGonagall called and he snapped back to attention. 

He walked up to her desk and stared at the women, deja vu making him blink rapidly. 

“I'm not going to beat around the bush Potter, I know you like my daughter,” McGonagall spoke peering at the now blushing boy over her glasses. 

James sputtered desperately for an answer, looking for a sentence to deny such a claim but he was cut off.

“James, I’m not here to hear your denial, I am here to beg you to ask her out.” 

And his brain exploded again. 

“She talks about you constantly, she cannot get out a sentence without your name being in it, it is simply ridiculous. Even worse you are getting spacey not only in the classroom but on the field. We almost lost our last game because you couldn't keep your head in the game. So please for both of your sakes, just ask her out.” McGonagall stared at the boy, looking desperate.

After a moment of silence, James spoke: “You aren’t mad that I like her?”  He chose his words carefully, not sure if he was on thin ice or not.

“No James.” The professor sighed, “If any of the boys in this school were to date her I would hope it to be you, I know you, you’re a good kid.” She admitted painfully. 

“You actually want me to ask her out?” James asked hesitantly, unsure if it was a type of test or if he was going crazy.

“Yes, James.” She huffed, “Please just do it so I don't have to hear about how adorable you look in hoodies ever again.” 

James flushed again, “Y/n said I look cute in hoodies?” 

“Oh, Merlin.” She muttered under her breath, “Just do it James.” 

And with that, he ushered him out the door. 

You hummed quietly, music blasting far too loudly through your walkman, you lay on your back a book held above your head as you thumbed through it. 

You didn't take notice of your roommate busting into the room, a giggle on her lips as she smiled brightly. 

She called out your name twice, groaning and rolling her eyes before walking over to you and plucking the headphones from your ears. 

You sent her a glare. 

“Don’t glare at me,” She huffed, “I'm just here to tell you that James Potter is waiting outside the common room for you.”

“He is?” You asked. You were pretty sure you didn't have plans with him today. 

“No, I’m making it up.” She scowled rolling her eyes. 

“Okay, okay, I'm going.” You exhaled loudly pushing yourself from the bed. 

You wandered down the spiral stairs waving to a couple of people who seemed to be staring. You noticed a few girls whispering something to each other before catching your gaze, almost looking… jealous?

You frowned before exiting the common room.

“Hey James, what’s up…”  Your voice died in your throat at the sight in front of you. There stood a blushing mess of a boy, a bouquet of bright yellow roses and daisies grasped in his hands. He was adorned in his school pants and dress shirt, a yellow hoodie thrown over it, his dark curly hair springing from underneath its hood making him look positively adorable. 

He refused to meet your eye, his cheeks so red you swear they must have been on fire.

You felt your own cheeks heat as you stared up at him, his glasses perched lazily at the end of his nose as he stared at his feet. 

He finally raised his gaze meeting your own and instantly regretted it. Your head was tilted slightly in confusion, your cheeks dusted pink, your eyes wide, shining with a doe-like innocence. You were simply stunning. 

He pushed his glasses up his nose nervously and he spoke. He spoke the words he had wanted to say for five months. 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stopped, jaw-dropping eyes growing wider, you were left completely speechless as your mind reeled with the words he just spoke.  

James’ throat went dry and he nervously fiddled with his glasses again, “I totally get it if you don't feel the same way, I just I can't stop thinking about you, and honestly I just couldn't keep it bottled up anymore.”

You just stood there. So stunned your mouth forgot how to move. 

“Say something,” James spoke his voice practically a whimper. 

You still didn't speak, you weren't sure you trusted your words at that moment, so instead, you took two steps forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips onto yours. 

The kiss was messy at first, your noses collided at the speed you pulled James towards you, his arms soon reached around you, bouquet still secured in one hand as he straightened you and plunged his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like honey and cinnamon. His scent surrounded you, the soft odor of expensive cologne and the tinge of sweat. 

You pulled away slowly lips still touching a moment after the kiss broke, breath mingling as you looked up into his deep eyes, you could feel yourself begin to fall into them, your heart pounding at an inhuman rate. 

“I love you too James.” You whispered and the smile he wore was brighter than anything you could ever imagine. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

[sichengtual]

— summary: in which seungcheol, a high-collared executive at his dad’s firm, signs up for a fake dating service in an attempt to make everyone believe his life is more than just the office.

— pairing: choi seungcheol x reader.

— genre(s): fluff, humor, angst.

— au: fake dating, office.

— word count: 1676. 

— song of the chapter: full moon — the kinks.

masterlist. 

part one — congratulations, your request has been accepted!

“This is ridiculous.”

Seungcheol takes a sip of his drink as he turns to look at Mingyu. 

The younger is scoffing, eyes fixed on his phone, clutched tightly in one of his hands. 

“What are you on about?” Seungcheol questions, not prying his eyes off the documents laid across the table. He’s read them a thousand times, a separate sheet of annotations resting somewhere along the mess. He knows them by heart, even if it’s just been a few days since they were handed to him, but that was to be expected after the many hours he’d spent pouring over the words. “And now that I think about it, you still haven’t given me your notes on the case documents.” 

“Notes? It’s been two days, do you really expect me to have read all of it by now? Who do you think I am?” Mingyu exclaims. He sounds worried, and if Seungcheol didn’t know him like the palm of his hand, he would have believed he actually was. It wasn’t any news that Mingyu didn’t care about the case, just as much as he did not care about the firm at all. He doesn’t care about much, anyway, or at least, about the stuff he can’t get some fun out of. “Anyways, it’s about this girl — “

“It’s always about a girl,” Seungcheol mutters between his teeth. Mingyu doesn’t notice, or ignores him if he does, but his rant goes uninterrupted. 

“I’ve been seeing her for the last few months and now she won’t leave my apartment,” he finishes. He sits down on one of the couches inside Seungcheol’s office, one of his legs draped over the armrest, much to Seungcheol’s annoyance. “She says she thought we were official? We weren’t even exclusive. I know my place is cute, but listen, I’ve — ”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. 

“It’s your own fault for messing around,” he comments. He taps his fingers on the desk, the rhythm of the taps aligning with that of his heartbeat. Always steady. “I’ve told you that.” 

Mingyu lets out a laugh. “Oh, I know you have.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, brother,” Mingyu sits up straight. His phone rests discarded on the couch, not deserving Mingyu’s attention any longer. “You know I admire you, and all that…” And all that. “But, honestly, maybe what you need is to mess around. You know, loosen up, get out of the office … just a little bit.”

“I don’t, Mingyu,” Seungcheol answers with a shake of his head. One of his hands clutches a pen, movements halted. “And besides, I don’t have time for that. I have to do both your work and mine.”

“Does that mean you’ll read over my documents for me?” Mingyu smiles. “Cheol, come on, what would one going out do? We’re not going to lose this client just because you go out on a date, are we?”

He’s not surprised. 

Looking back, it had always been like that. 

He had grown up alone, with only Mingyu by his side and even then not really, because, contrary to him, the younger never had any trouble making friends. He’d say it was all because of his dad, and the way he used to look up to him ever since he was a little kid — always expectant. He’d always told Seungcheol how much alike they were, both in attitudes and in destinies, and how, if following the right path, he was sure he’d never let him down. 

But it was also because of him, and his own expectations, and feeling that if Mingyu was allowed to let go if it meant he had to hold on a little tighter, he’d do it. He’d always known his brother was not made to stand the loneliness that came with following their father, or at least, not as much as he was. They were different people with different needs, after all, and as much as Seungcheol was comfortable with silence, there are times he wishes it wasn’t like that. 

There are times he wishes he had separated himself from it all, even if just a little bit. There are times he actually wishes he had a friend. He wishes he had a friend he could actually trust, who could actually be there for him, and not like the business people he was friendly with. The ones he sometimes went out with, the people he grew up next to, all of them just as immersed in the money daze. He wishes it all went past parties and business deals, an actual bond that could not be broken by envy or convenience. 

“A date?”

“Yeah, a date!” Mingyu exclaims. “When was the last time you went out on one of those, huh? College?” 

“I think?” Seungcheol frowns. Actually, he doesn’t remember dating in college, but he’s not about to tell Mingyu that. “Listen, just get your notes ready by tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” his brother answers. 

Mingyu rolls his eyes as he stands up, phone once again in his hand. He walks over to the door, a smile on his lips despite his ‘annoyed’ expression. Seungcheol knows Mingyu is not going to comply, but he tells him anyway. Just like he always has. It’s part of why they get along so well, because they would be too lost without the other. 

“Oh, and Gyu?” Mingyu opens the door, but turns to his brother before leaving. “Just talk to her, man. Try to not be an asshole, though.” 

Mingyu laughs, and Seungcheol shakes his head. He smiles. 

Out of the both of them, he’s always been the one that actually thinks things through. 

Night has fallen and the room is quiet. 

Moonlight breaks through the window and soaks the room, documents shining under the 

Compared to a few hours prior, not much has changed except for the color of the sky and the scrambly document that was placed on his desk, along with a ‘here you go, loser!’ written on a hot pink post-it note. The entire office smells of coffee and leather, a product of the almost-new furniture and the ever-brewing coffee machine. Is it really that easy to tell that Seungcheol never leaves? 

Taking off his glasses, Seungcheol runs a hand through his face after taking a good look at the clock. He finds it funny that the little hands are the only thing that seems to be moving in the ever-present stillness that he’s immersed himself in; the only indication of movement being the passing of time. His days are always measured in just how much he can get done in an hour, how fast he can get to places, and how long business meetings extend to. They’re composed of work, strictly, and he doesn’t notice, because it’s how it’s always been. It’s ironic how he never notices time passing in-between, because time seems to have taken notice of him. 

He’s spent the past few years trying to be a good boss, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s all people think he is. He can’t help but wonder if that’s all he is, anyway, because it’s the only thing he can think of when he thinks of himself. A good boss and a good brother, and everything else is nothing but a sporadic in-between. 

He’s heard his friends say it, his mind going back to the occasional bar outings and business parties. He remembers the sly comments here and there, the conversations he never got involved in, the stories he could not understand. He remembers the feeling left out, resorting to steadily drinking out of a glass of water. Predictable. 

And then he remembers one of the stories that Jeonghan, one of his college friends, told them a few months before, of him signing up for a fake dating service when his parents were on his back about him finally settling down. He can’t help thinking of Mingyu when he thinks of his friend, and how he seems to get along with him better than he ever did. They were too much alike. 

He remembers laughing, shaking his head, wondering the lengths he’d go to only to maintain the fun, and lifestyle, he’d always had. He remembers what it all was — a pretense. And he knows that just like Jeonghan, he had always been good at pretending. 

He unlocks his phone, a picture of him and Mingyu looking back at him from his screen. It was a family trip, the both of them and their dad, just when Mingyu had graduated from college a few years back. He’s smiling at the camera, and Mingyu is probably staring at someone walking nearby, because he’s not focusing on the photo. He lets out a little laugh.

He opens the chat with Jeonghan, and scrolls up to find the number he had texted him. He hadn’t asked for it, and had chuckled when Jeonghan had sent it, but he’s thankful for his insistence. 

“You laugh now, but who knows, you might need it someday.”

He takes a sip from his coffee and winces when it burns his tongue. He knows it’s out of nerves, with the bouncing of his leg giving him away. He knows he’s got nothing to lose, but even then, he can’t bring himself to calm down over the thought of possibly meeting someone new in a matter unrelated to the office. He knows Mingyu would laugh if he were to look at him now, shaking over the thought of a date… and not even a real one. 

Taking a deep breath, he taps on the contact and types. He stares at the message, eyes going over the words time and time again. Does it sound good? Is it too casual? Does he — shaking his head, he sends it. 

He’s just asking someone to fake date him. It’s alright. It’s almost like a business deal. It’s a cold, impersonal — 

It’s not even a whole minute before he gets a reply.

[from unknown number, 21:34 pm] Hi! Yeah sure, why not? 

[svtsjunnie]

Look at me looking at you (Hyunho)

Pairing: Lee Minho x Hwang Hyunjin

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: boyxboy content (this is NOT a y/n situation), spit as lube, Hyunjin cries (not because of that dw), uhhh I don’t know if there are any other warnings I need to tag, lapslock

Summary: Hyunjin has been distracted lately and only Minho has seemed to catch on to the fact that Hyunjin gets hard each time he watches himself dance.

(A/N): Hello! This is my first memberxmember work up on this blog!! you dont have to read if you don’t wish to! I do feel very comfortable in writing these sorts of fics and requests so I do hope that some of my followers embrace it!

hyunjin stays back after practice, having not felt focused, wanting to make up for it by himself. it’s not completely a lie, hyunjin really was unable to focus today. his members may just blame it on stress and lack of sleep, but hyunjin knows that isn’t what it is.

he probably should be more ashamed of it, but he can’t help but watch himself.‬

‪watching the way his body moves and rolls, the expressions on his face as he dances to the choreography. ‬‪he knows he’s hot. ‬

‪turning the music on, he begins to practice, not wanting his own selfish needs to get in the way of his groups success.‪ he watches as his body flows with the music, the way his hips sway, his faces as he gets into his performance. hyunjin was so immersed in watching his chest rise and fall after his run through, cock twitching at the sight that almost didn’t hear the door creak open. ‬

‪“where was that during practice?” minho asks, taking a few steps forward with a raised brow. ‬

‪hyunjin gasps, startled as he notices the other boys presence, cheeks going pink as he sees his own cock is half hard through the mirror. ‬he hopes the other boy hasn’t taken notice of it. 

‪“just been- tense, hyung.” he pants, eyeing minho through the reflection, not sure what to make from his smirk. ‬

“and what’s got you tense jinnie?” he asks, eye clearly noticing the tent through the other boys sweatpants. hyunjin gulps, noticing where minho’s eyes have trailed to. 

“just- haven’t had time alone.” he lies. well, it isn’t a complete lie, hyunjin really hasn’t had much alone time to take care of himself, but that isn’t his problem right now. his problem is his ego, the fact that watching himself move in such a way gets himself hard.

minho smirks, taking a step closer to the panting boy. “well i came back here to help you with the choreography, but it seems that’s not a problem, is it jinnie? maybe i should help you some other way?” he asks, tilting his head in question as he looks to the other boy through the reflection of the mirror.

hyunjin isn’t sure if he heard right, he can’t be hearing this right. he stares back at minho, baffled and slightly turned on by his tone of voice, this must be some kind of fever dream. 

minho walks up behind the taller boy, close, but not close enough to touch, prepared to back off at the other boys word. 

“you like watching yourself, don’t you baby?” he asks, and that’s what sets hyunjin off. He whines, biting his bottom lip as he nods eagerly, cock twitching slightly at the other’s words.

“should i help you out baby? make you watch as you take my cock?” minho asks, raising his brows as he leans in closer, hot breath sending shivers down hyunjins spine. 

“please.” hyunjin whimpers, leaning back against the other boy, keening when he feels his hard on press against his ass. hyunjin shudders as he realized how big the other boy is, feeling the outline of his semi through his sweats. “want you inside me, hyung.”

minho is quick to shove hyunjin down on his knees, stepping in front of him with his pants low on his waist. “let’s put that pretty mouth to good use, hm?” he hums, teasing the pad of his thumb over the other boys plump lips, slipping it into his mouth.

hyunjin sucks softly, looking up to the older boy with big eyes before glancing to his side, noticing his reflection and letting out a whimper. minho takes note once again and smirks, slowly tugging his sweats and boxers down, revealing his nearly hard cock.

hyunjin, being so immersed in his own appearance, doesn’t notice minho taking his finger out until he feels his hard cock tap against his lips. looking up to the boy, hyunjin sticks his tongue out, mustering up the biggest eyes he can as he waits to be fed and used like a good boy.

looking down at the pretty boy, minho bites his bottom lip, slowly pushing his cock beyond his lips, letting out a soft breath. to say minho has never pictured himself in this position before would be a complete lie. hyunjin was gorgeous, and anyone with eyes could recognize that. his eyes shone bright, the sparkles of galaxies floating around in them as he passionately spoke about something or was determined to accomplish. said eyes were looking up at him right now, big and beady as he slowly bobs his head, trying to take more and more of minho’s cock down his throat. 

“look at yourself.” minho starts, albeit partly for his own sanity, and waits for the boy to look to the side. “look how hot you are jinnie, look at your lips, how they stretch so beautifully around hyung’s cock.” 

he feels the vibration of a whimper shoot up his spine, hyunjin having become even more aroused at his words. he feels the boy force himself further and further, gaze glued to his image as he almost chokes, minho letting out a stifled groan as he feels the tip of his cock at the back of hyunjins throat. 

he pulls out of the boys mouth quickly, having felt embarrassingly close to his climax already. “open yourself up for hyung baby. of course, make sure you watch yourself.” he says, stroking his cock with leisure as he watches the taller boy scramble to undress. 

hyunjin is quick to lay back, leaning up with one elbow as he sucks on his fingers, not having lube as this is far from how he’s pictured his day going. watching his swollen and red lips stretch around his fingers he groans, his cock giving a kick against his stomach at the picture in front of him. 

quickly bringing his fingers down against his rim, hyunjin easily slips two in, having played with himself earlier in hopes of avoiding the situation at practice. he lets out a lewd whine as he watches himself open up and swallow the digits, making quick work of stretching himself. two fingers quickly turn into three, and hyunjin is a whimpering, panting mess as he watches his fingers fuck himself open.

“hands and knees.” minho orders, deeming the boy ready enough to take him. as hyunjin quickly gets into position, minho lubes himself up the best he can with his spit and precum, not wanting to hurt the boy in desperation. 

kneeling behind the other boy, he presses his tip against his rim, shuddering at the foreign feeling, it’s been way too long. minho reaches forward to grip hyunjin’s hair, pulling his head back to ensure the boy is watching as he begins to push in. 

he easily slips inside, bottoming out with a groan as he locks his gaze with hyunjin through the mirror. “look at yourself baby, look how good you take hyung’s cock.” he smirks, slowly rolling his hips, making sure the younger doesn’t yelp in pain before speeding up. 

he watches as the taller boys mouth drops open, silent groans leaving his lips as his eyes squeeze shut, clenching around him. minho tugs hyunjin’s hair, his eyes snapping back open, staring at him through the glass as tears fill his lash line. “you’re supposed to watch, baby.” he says, raising a brow as he continues to hammer into the boy.

hyunjin whimpers, eyes gazing into his own through the mirror, watching as his own body shakes with each thrust. “h-hyung-” he moans, taking note of how his chest rises and falls as his breathing picks up. his arms begin to shake, feeling weak from the sight in front of him. hyunjin knew he was hot, and this was proof. 

“hyung i can’t- i’m so close.” he whines, watching as his cheeks flush red, the hair not matted to his forehead bouncing with each thrust. he notes the way he moves and shakes and squirms, cock kicking out another spurt of precum at the visual.

minho is all soft groans as he fucks into the other boy. he’s quite enamoured, watching the way hyunjin drinks in every aspect of his being. he notes the boys shaking and pulls his hands back, holding him up in the air by the wrists as he goes for the kill, hammering into the boy mercilessly. “yeah? you’re gonna cum jinnie?” 

hyunjin nods feverishly, broken noises and curses spilling from his lips. “y-yeah, please hyung, please can i cum?” he asks, unable to take the sight in front of him anymore. he notices the way his cock is leaking, having not had a good view beforehand. the precum is trailing down his legs, the tip red and angry and gorgeous. if he could, he would suck his own dick.

minho doesn’t answer for a while, wanting to test the other boy on his obedience. one hand squeezes at his wrists while the other grips his hip, pulling him back as he thrusts forward. He feels the other boy sporadically clenching around his, soft sobs bubbling from his throat as tears trail down his cheeks, and that is what he was waiting for. “look at yourself jinnie, crying over cock, your hyungs cock. look how pretty you look, crying over getting fucked so good.” he praises, knowing it’ll just turn him on even more. 

“please please please please hyung i can’t ho-ld it anymore please-.” he babbles and sobs complete nonsense, the pit in his stomach tightening as he teeters dangerously at the edge. minho decides to have mercy, nodding his head with a soft ‘you can cum’, completely taken back by the boys reaction. 

the boy struggles and squirms in his hold, squeezing around him so hard minho thinks he could suffocate, but perhaps the best part of the other boys orgasm was his face. his mouth drops open wide as he lets out his loudest moan yet, more and more tears trailing down his cheeks as his cock spurts ropes of white onto his thighs. minho is quick to follow, a complete goner as he feels the other boy convulse on top of him, filling him up with a groan into his ear.

pulling the boy to be seated properly in his lap, minho strokes the other boy through the aftershocks, only pulling his hands away when hyunjin starts whining. he presses gentle kisses to the back of his neck, hands sweetly caressing his sides as the two calm down. 

he honestly expected things to be awkward, having not thought out his plans before offering sex to one of his best friends, but in all hoensty? minho felt content. “thank you.” hyunjin whispers after a few moments of silence, twisting in the other boys hold to press a soft kiss to his lips. 

minho smiles, taking his time cleaning up, helping jinnie into the shower before heading back to the dorms, spending the rest of the night in each others arms.

[chiaki-translation]

Luminous Circus: Event Translation Epilogue

Finally, the epilogue~

I have nothing to say, but I guess I’m going to rest for a while after this~

Ch3-4 / / Ch5-6 / / Ch7-8 / / Ch9-10 / / Epilogue

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber Entertainment

Translator’s Note: The guys are trying to compose a Haiku later on in this Epilogue. It’s impossible for it to not be lost in translation so I kept the actual Japanese sentence along with the general idea of what the Haiku means on the side. 575 refers to the syllables for each line which is the common formatting for Haiku. Seasonal word is a collection of words they used in the traditional Japanese poetry to represent the particular season, usually referring to the season they’re in now.

Epilogue: Day dream at night

Homare:

Thank you for coming!

Kazunari:

Thank you, everyone! See you again!

Sakuya:

Thank you so much!

Muku:

Thank you so much~!

<Shifts to Backstage>

Director:

(Even until the closing night, they were able to convey a fun and wonderful performance of a circus troupe to the audiences. I’m so glad!)

Tsumugi:

It’s a great closing night performance.

Guy:

Yeah. Mixed Play really has a different atmosphere compared to the usual Winter Troupe performance.

Azuma:

It’s such a refreshing feel to look at something new.

Hisoka:

…Arisu looks like his usual self.

Tasuku:

The role has a similar feel to Arisugawa, but don’t you think he’s able to pull off being a leader better now.

Tsumugi:

You’re right.

Director:

Thank you for your help!

Tsumugi:

After this, are we going to have an afterparty?

Tasuku:

If you’re going to do it, I’ll help with the preparation.

Director:

Ah, then--

Homare:

Thank you, but I don’t need any help.

Director:

Ah, Homare-san! Thank you for your hard work!

Guy:

You’re not going to hold an afterparty?

Homare:

Not that, the venue has already been arranged and prepared.

<Shifts to Mansion’s Garden>

Sakuya:

It’s really gorgeous.

Muku:

It’s like a noble garden party in the mansion, it’s so nice!

Tasuku:

The inner courtyard can accommodate everyone from the troupe, it’s really quite big.

Homare:

Then, please drink and eat as much as you like today!

Kazunari:

Let’s eat!

Director:

I’m sorry for bringing in so many people.

Homare’s Grandmother:

That immature grandson of mine always bothers me anyway, don’t mind it.

Homare:

I guess I’m still immersed in the lingering excitement from the closing night, the sake smells pretty fragrant…

A poetic inspiration swelled up inside me.

Food—The buzzing chronicle~, scramble bloo bloo blooming~

Ariel:

Woof!

Homare:

Wh, what is it, Ariel!

Homare’s Grandmother:

It actually sounds like her favourite call.

You too, why not read me a Haiku for once.

Homare:

I like poem with freedom and no format though…

Food…

Akari kie (Having lost its light)

Hana no kaori nokoru (the flower leaves behind its fragrance)

Ita no ue (on top of everything else)

...How’s that.

Director:

It’s actually proper…!

Sakuya:

That’s very wonderful!

Hisoka:

…It’s somehow weird when you actually understand what Alice means.

Homare:

What do you mean by that!

Tasuku:

So you can actually create a proper one after all.

Homare’s Grandmother:

Others who just finished their performance too, why not try making a phrase.

Sakuya:

Eh!? Umm, a Haiku should be 575 right…

Things like…

Kankyaku no (The audience’s)

egao hajiketa (smile bursting out)

senshuraku. (on the closing night)

I’m sorry, there’re extra syllables and the seasonal word is missing!

Director:

It’s alright as long as long as it sounds like Sakuya-kun!

Homare:

Yes. It’s such a bright phrase.

Kazunari:

Hey hey, I’m next!

Ame arare (The barrage of rain)

Ka-ten ko-ru (during curtain call)

Kimochi ii! (leaves behind a nice feeling!)

Director:

You managed to include the seasonal word properly.

Sakuya:

It’s rain, but it has such a bright feeling!

Tasuku:

It’s not rainy season now though.

Kazunari:

That’s the point!

Homare:

How about Muku-kun.

Muku:

Eh!? Me, me is it!?

Eh, umm…

Sa-kasu wa (In Circus)

Kyaku mo yakusha mo (the audience and the performers too)

Egao ni naru ne (will be full of smiles)

…?

Director:

So cute!

Kazunari:

Feels like Mukkun!

Muku:

Ehehe!

Tsuzuru:

It’s very interesting that you can see people’s character from their Haiku phrase.

Misumi:

I also want to make one~!

Sankaku no (Triangle)

Kado wa mittsu de (has 3 corners)

Sankaku da (that’s why it’s a triangle.)

~!

Kazunari:

So triangular~!

Tenma:

THE triangle huh.

Tsuzuru:

He’s so steady.

<Short Time Skip>

Director:

It’s going to be pretty late, we should call it a day soon.

Kazunari:

Right~ Eh? Where’s Aririn?

Muku:

Ah, I haven’t seen him for a while.

Takao:

Homare-sama said that he was feeling a bit drunk, so he left his seat earlier.

I thought he was in the inner courtyard, should we search for him for you.

Director:

If that’s the case, we’ll go and search for him.

Sakuya:

If we’re going to call it a day, it won’t be right if the leader’s not here!

<Shifts to Grandmother’s Study>

Homare:

…Fuh.

(I was feeling a bit drunk, but why did I come to such place.

I have to get back soon--)

Hmm?

The watch is moving!

I thought it’s already broken…  It’s a miracle!

???:

Grandfather.

Homare:

!?

That… But, no way…

Homare’s Grandfather:

Hmm? It’s you, Homare, what is it.

Homare:

Grandmother said the tea is ready.

Homare’s Grandfather:

Thank you. I’ll be there soon.

Homare:

That pocket watch, is it broken again?

Homare’s Grandfather:

Yeah. But it’s already repaired.

Recently, the number of parts has decreased, it’s getting harder and harder to maintain it.

My sight is getting worse too, this watch and me too, we’ve become old.

It’s been 30 years huh…

Homare:

…?

Homare’s Grandfather:

That painting was drawn around the same time that I bought this watch.

That painting, it’s an important memory of my time with grandmother.

Homare:

What kind of memory is it?

Homare’s Grandfather:

When you grow up, when you finally found your important things, give it a thought.

Ariel:

--Woof!

Homare:

!!

It disappeared…?

Just now it was—

(Do I start daydreaming too when I’m drunk.

The watch’s not moving...  When did the dream start I wonder?)

…As I thought, something that’s already broken cannot return to the past.

Kazunari:

Aririn!

Muku:

Arisu-san, so you’re here.

Director:

You’re spacing out, what happened?

Homare:

Nothing, something strange happened just now.

I could see my grandfather and myself during my childhood.

Director:

Eh!?

Kazunari:

That’s great isn’t it!

Muku:

Woah, that sounds like what happened to George!

Sakuya:

A real magic!

Homare:

I see… Then maybe, that’s the magic of this pocket watch.

Muku:

It still holds such a mysterious power even though you’ve had it for so long!

Sakuya:

Maybe it’s your grandfather’s ability!

Director:

Umm… I guess Homare-san yourself has some magic in you.

Kazunari:

Then, everything’s correct!

I’m sure, the feelings of the various people contained in this pocket watch are being manifested through magic, don’t you think so?

Homare:

Hmm… That will be such a powerful magic.

From now on, let’s make a lot more memories.

Together with this watch--

Director:

You’re right.

Kazunari:

I’m sure your grandfather will be happy too.

Homare:

Then, let’s immediately make some memories right now!

Director:

Eh!? Now!?

Sakuya:

It’s already late!?

Muku:

What do you want to do?

Homare:

Grandfather and grandmother will paint on days like this so they won’t forget!

Kazunari:

Then, it’s a drawing meet!

Homare:

Yes!

Sakuya:

D, drawing meet!?

Muku:

Fufu, it sounds fun, a drawing meet!

Director:

And I thought we’re going to end the day soon…

Homare:

Then, let’s get the art supplies ready.

Kazunari:

If we’re painting we have to prepare the tables too!

Director:

…I don’t think I can stop them at this point.

Homare’s Grandmother:

What kind of commotion is this?

Director:

I’m sorry.

Can you lend us the courtyard for a little bit longer?

Homare’s Grandmother:

Well, I’m sure it’s because of something that child say right.

There’s no other choice.

Director:

Really sorry to bother you…

Homare’s Grandmother:

…Sakae-san, I’m glad I gave that pocket watch to Homare.

Director:

Eh?

Homare’s Grandmother:

Nah, it’s nothing.

<End of Epilogue>

[wizardessheartprincess]

two minutes (part 2/?)

prologue here (x) 

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

story warnings: none really

genre: idk man tbh

a/n; probably will rewrite this bc it’s 3 am here and while i really wanted to get something out, i’m not super stoked about how I wrote Bakugou here, yikes. taking constructive criticism bc I need to get my act together asap.

taglist: @dragonempress123

It seemed to face the whole eternal world for an instant-

The next day, you’re waiting in your lab after school - while it’s normally easy for you to get lost in the details, to forget about time’s relentless passage, today, you’re anxiously looking at the clock every fifteen minutes, even though you set an alarm. It’s becoming harder to brush off the comments of your classmates passing through - and you were even more thrown off earlier, when someone commented that you gave off the energy of a schoolgirl anticipating her first date.

… Right. 

You’ve already pulled out all the prototypes of the designs you sent him last night - though honestly, you’re not even sure if they’ll work. They work in theory, you’ve tested them under ideal (and not-so-ideal) conditions, and even with other quirks, but never with his - which was a stupid decision, considering they were expressly designed for his quirk and his fighting style. 

Unfortunately for you, the moment a shadow crosses the door and you look up, you manage to drop the box of screws you were holding, out of sheer surprise. 

Incredible, Y/N. He had an appointment, he’s perfectly on time, and you still managed to be startled into making a wonderfully competent first impression.

You’re torn between greeting him and diving under the table to clean up the mess you’ve made in an otherwise relatively organized workspace, never to resurface, but you settle for… both. Quite possibly, the worst possible option.

“... Hi.” 

You’re all too aware of what it looks like - some ditzy doe-eyed girl, kneeling in a freshly made mess of the lab she supposedly calls home, hair messily put up in a low bun that’s falling apart more every minute, just like her confidence in this meeting, hands scrambling to sweep up the stray screws threatening to roll away and towards his feet. Yikes.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, and stares down at you, obvious doubt starting to bubble up in those carmine eyes.

You pick up the pieces a little faster, scooping up screws and tossing them back into the box at an almost inhuman speed.

“... Hey.”

His voice seems a bit… annoyed? 

Though, you barely skip a beat, tossing the last of the (visible) pieces back into the box before you stand back up, carefully placing the box on the nearest table.

“Hi, um, sorry about that. I’m Y/N.” 

You finally dare to make eye contact for more than a fleeting moment, awkwardly shifting your weight around before you blurt out, “You’re here for the attachments I sent you, right? I have more if you want, or we can try those out first…?”

It occurs to you immediately after you finish speaking that maybe he’s here to tell you thanks, but no thanks, or perhaps you’re moving too quickly. As you walk over to the shelf where you keep the prototypes meant for him stored, though, you notice him start to follow you, taking in the sight of all the wires and test tubes and computers around the room.

As you start pulling up files, though, he speaks up behind you in that same viciously casual voice you occasionally hear in the hallways in passing - 

“Listen, how long would it take you to make the wave interference device?” 

Straight to the point - noted. You turn around.

“Um, I’m not really sure. I’d have to measure the average strength of your explosions to calculate how much interference it’d have to provide, but -”

Seeing his palms start to crackle, you nervously take several steps back, your own voice starting to devolve into a fast-paced squeal - 

“ - but I’ve ballparked the force from what I’ve seen on TV based on debris projectile arcs, and I think this should kind of work?”

You can’t seem to pull the container down from the shelf fast enough, hugging it to your chest as you practically run to the nearest open table and plop it down, already almost immersed in setting the device up before you realize he’s staring at you in disbelief.

“... You already have it… done?”

He walks closer for a better look, though you anxiously eye his hands - a fire in the lab would be a nightmare to clean up, even with the help of your quirk. Even if you trust him to not be that hot-headed, everyone knew he had to be restrained at his first Sports Festival awards ceremony, and if he damaged your workspace in any way, you’d be the first to restrain him yourself.

“Not done. I actually haven’t made any modifications to this in a while, since most of the calculations for it are gross estimates I haven’t been able to confirm.”

Until now, anyway.

Luckily, there’s still some battery life left in the device, and you grasp it with both hands, holding it out, offering to help him try it. Maybe you shouldn’t be so forward, especially with him so unusually quiet, but you can’t help but be excited - you’re finally getting to test some of your best work (in your humble opinion). 

He stares at you with some suspicion for a few moments, but slowly offers out his own arm - which is all the trust you need anyway. 

Almost gleefully, you fit the device to his forearm - which should be ideal placement to absorb shock, based on videos you’ve seen of his previous fights. Part of you is still worried about how quiet he’s being, but maybe he’s just tired from training, though you doubt that weak explanation. 

“How does it work?”

You gently tug on the device, making sure it’s wrapped taut around his arm - though his arms are a bit more muscled than you’d expected. Good to keep in mind for the future. 

“For you, it should activate automatically, since it’s triggered by a chemical reaction with the nitroglycerin when it’s ignited… want to test it outside?”

You’re almost bouncing in excitement from the prospect of getting to finally run some real trials with your inventions, especially since he doesn’t seem to have negative feedback yet. 

“Is it too tight?” 

He rotates his arm around, flexing and unflexing slightly. 

“No.”

He lets his arm fall to his side, though not before crossing and uncrossing his arms - a force of habit, broken only by the foreign object around one arm, you assume. 

He starts walking towards the door - and it’s only a moment before you follow. He seems to be walking faster, now, and you can’t help but let your hopes soar that he’s just as excited to test your work as you are. 

You pass a few other support students in the hall, but you’re too thrilled to take much note of the knowing looks they give you - and soon enough, you’re finally outside. 

Still following behind him, you see him take several long strides into the courtyard… before he stretches his hand in front of him, at an angle directly facing the sky above the school gates, and you’re about to panic-yell at him to be mindful of the direction of his explosions, but…

Just as the late evening sky detonates in fumes of orange and grey and yellow, you realize - while you saw the explosion, you barely felt it - just a barely-there tremble of the air around you, despite being only a few feet behind him. 

The realization hits you just as it seems to hit him, and that’s the first time you’re awed by Bakugou Katsuki’s smile, grinning up at the sky, at his still-outstretched arm, the way light is reflected in those glimmering ruby eyes despite the bright explosion having dissipated already. 

[monaisme]

The Empire Strikes Back-  A Tweak

NOTE: If you haven’t read my previous post, this is a definite ‘one of’-- and I will now return to my work on Ch 3 of “One Week Later.”

Thanks for reading!

Luke didn’t remember much in the moments after the wampa attack, which was a blessing, he’d have guessed. He wasn’t quite sure of how things had happened, but he knew that his tauntaun was dead; he knew he’d been dragged over Hoth’s cold terrain (or he at least remembered the sharp jags of ice scraping through the fabric of his coat), and he knew the pain of his feet being hooked into the ceiling cave like the nunas that hung in the marketplace back in Tatooine.

 And then he remembered nothing at all.

��At least for a while.

The roar of the wampa pulled him from unconsciousness and the sound of teeth tearing into flesh kept him from succumbing again. Luke knew that if he closed his eyes, that would be the last time... and he had too much to do.

He surveyed the area around him. For a moment, he panicked. All he could see was ice and snow, decorated with stalagmites and stalactites. There was nothing he could use to free himself, absolutely nothing. He was almost beyond hope—and then something shifted in the sky outside. A break in the storm clouds allowed for a flash of light, which glinted off the metal handle of Luke’s hastily discarded lightsaber.

He’d have breathed a sigh of relief, but he was sure his ribs were broken, and the vicious feeding at the back of the cave reminded him that he needed to be quiet—and that celebrating would come once he was free.

He just needed to pull himself together and focus. That, however, was harder than he’d planned. He struggled to overcome the distraction of pain and fear.

Dammit!

Luke was battle hardened now—he could do this... he had to do this.

The sounds of the cave finally faded and focus came. Luke felt safe to close his eyes and block out all of the sights, sounds, and smells surrounding him. It took only a few seconds to get to that place, and then a calm only felt when he was one with the force welled up within him. He held out his hand to the saber, focused only on the power within, beckoned with his mind, and then—

The ice cold metal slapped into the gloved palm of his hand and he almost wept in relief. With a grunt of effort, Luke bent at his waist and slashed at the ice encasing his feet. If he’d had any hope of getting away undetected by the wampa, it was dashed as the blue saber light glowed and pulled the wampa’s attention from whatever unfortunate beast it had been devouring. He grunted again as he made impact with the cave floor.

The wampa roared as it rambled back to the front of the cave, and Luke knew he needed to move, regardless of the black dots dancing at the edge of his vision as the blood rushed from his head. He scrambled to find footing, but failed as he slid and toppled backwards, exposing himself to the razor sharp claws of the beast. His lightsaber blazed again and, as its claw came down to swipe at its next meal, Luke threw himself not away, but at the wampa. He knew he wouldn’t survive if he didn’t kill the creature.

Luke cried out in shock at the sensation of his flesh spitting open even as the beast reared back in its own pain.  After Luke’s strike, it took a moment for the creature to register that its new agony was because of the severed arm on the ground beside it. It roared out in its suffering and lumbered toward the back of the cave. Luke didn’t know if it was disappearing to lick its wounds or to die, but it was gone and that was the best he could ask for.

It was as he struggled to pull himself up to his feet that he saw the stripes of blood blooming across his chest and belly, but they didn’t matter. The drops falling to the ground as he moved cautiously, well, they didn’t matter either. He had a chance, and he had to take it.

It took only a minute, but felt too long for Luke to eventually make his way to the mouth of the cave and stare out into the stark landscape that was Hoth. A wail of rage?—or was it pain, echoed from somewhere behind him, and if he’d needed a motivation to get moving, he’d found it. He needed to do something—anything to get back to base.

He needed to survive.

And so, one stumbling step at a time, Luke made his way into the snow.

* * * * * *

He couldn’t be sure how long he’d been wandering. The sun was starting to set, and the winds whipped up the snow around him. The bloody path he’d laid for whatever decided to follow him had long been covered, and he was so damned tired.

His vision faded out of focus for a second, and then off in the distance, he was sure he saw something. “Ben?” Luke called out to the man. “Ben!” He staggered, tried to get closer to him, but never quite reached him.

But Ben still spoke.

He told Luke of Yoda and Dagobah—and Luke almost wept at the thought of having to travel further. But maybe Dagobah meant he could get out of the snow?

He lost consciousness shortly after that—missing the drama of Han arriving on the macabre scene, his own tauntaun succumbing to the frigid cold, and the panic at trying to close still bleeding wounds with limited technology once Han had pulled him into the barely discernable warmth from the emergency shelter.  

He barely came back to himself as he was being rushed down a hallway. Words like blood loss, and hypothermia were being bandied about by medic droids and Luke thought he should worry about it, but he was still so tired, his wounds burned and sleep was easier than tracking what was happening around him.

And so he did.

It felt like only a blink of time had passed when he woke again—this time for good. The warmth of the liquid was a relief after the snow and he wished he could sleep immersed in the bacta tank forever. It was quiet, still—and a reprieve from the battle waging on the outside. He saw people waiting for him though, and so he pushed up and out of the bacta and entrusted his still weakened body whoever was on the outside.

“Commander Skywalker,” the medic droid addressed him as he was pulled out of the tank. “We have healed your wounds, but you still require a blood transfusion.” The droid lifted him as though he were a baby and placed him on a waiting gurney. Within moments, Luke had been wiped off all residue and covered with a blanket.

And then they were on the move.

The order of things seemed off for him. He’d known fighters having to use the bacta tanks. It was saved for the last. “I don’t understand?” he whispered as he was transported down a corridor—had he been down this one before? He pulled his attention back. “Shouldn’t this have been done before I went in?”

The medic droid continued on its path. “The Galactic Empire has blocked supply routes and most medical shipments have been confiscated by order of Darth Vadar. As a result, we did not have the synthesised platelets necessary to complete your treatment. A physical human donor needed to be located and that took time. We could not delay your treatment, but it was necessary to do things in a different order while we searched for an optimal match. That has been done and we can proceed. I apologize for the inconvenience, Commander Skywalker.”

Luke waved off the apology and closed his eyes to the lights passing above him. At least he understood why he was still so tired.

The droid manoeuvred the gurney into an equipment filled room, and with an efficiency known only by a medical droid, Luke was hooked up to a bag of... had the droid said platelets?... and decided that resting his eyes while he waited for the treatment to finish wouldn’t be a bad idea.

The next time Luke opened his eyes, he was reclining what must have been a recovery room. He’d barely had a chance to take in the room when the door slid open.

“Master Luke, sir, it's so good to see you fully functional again.” Threepio announced as he fussed his way in.

Artoo beeped next.

“Artoo expresses his relief, also.” Threepio translated.

Han and Chewie came in next, far more boisterous than Luke was prepared for.

The Wookiee growled a greeting and kept back, but Han had no reservations, “How are you feeling, kid?  You don't look so bad to me.” The man ruffled Luke’s hair and continued, “In fact, you look strong enough to pull the ears off a Gundark.”

Luke flushed and looked down, embarrassed at the attention, “Thanks to you.”

Han just smiled. “That's two you owe me, junior.” 

Both of the men looked to the door as Leia came into the room. Han stood up a little straighter, getting ready to do some more of whatever ridiculous mating dance he thought he was doing when both of them noticed a medic droid accompanying the princess.

“Leia?” Han stepped forward and took her arm. “I was going to tease you about keeping me around a little while longer, but... Are you okay? What happened?” He’d also noted her pallor and ushered her over to one of the seats.                              

Leia laughed, almost haughtily except that she seemed a little strained. She answered, “I had nothing to do with it.  General Rieekan thinks it's dangerous for any ships to leave the system until we've activated the energy shield.”

“That's a good story.  I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight.” He teased and then grew serious. “Now, really. What’s going on? You were fine and then you disappeared, but suddenly you look like a porg fart could knock you over.”

She scowled at Han then thought to pull her arm away from his still clutching fingers. “I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brain,” she started, “And I was told Luke needed me so...” Leia sent a soft look over to the younger of the two men. “How are you feeling, Luke?”

Chewie laughed at the sudden deflection before Luke could answer, and Han tried not to pout as she shut him down.

“Laugh it up, fuzzball.  But you didn't see us alone in the south passage.” Han preened. “She expressed her true feelings for me.”

Leia’s temper flared and her cheeks flushed with a healthier pink, even as her eyes darted between Luke and Han. “My...!  Why, you stuck up,... half-witted... scruffy-looking ...nerf-herder!”

“Who's scruffy-looking?” Han protested then looked to his young friend, “I must have hit pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh, kid?”

Leia closed her eyes, like she was praying for patience, and then opened them, suddenly focused on Luke. She rose from her chair with a presence borne of being raised a royal and approached his bed. “Why, I guess you don't know everything about women yet?”

Luke had closed his eyes to their flirting. He knew he felt something for Leia, but he couldn’t figure it out. He’d heard stories of the Jedi and knew that he should be fighting romantic attachments, but—

He was startled from his thoughts when he felt a pair of warm lips on his, though she was pulling back from it before he could even think to reciprocate. Luke understood his role then, even if Leia didn’t. He wasn’t a fool. If she wanted to play a game with Han, Luke would play, and maybe he’d just end up the winner. He couldn’t help the smug grin that crossed his face. 

“Pardon me.” The medic droid interrupted. “Captain Organa, Commander Skywalker, I have just received a message from the head physician that is intended for both you. Would you like me to relay that now or shall I clear the room?”

Luke shrugged and looked at Leia, “I’m fine with it being played now,” he then looked to the droid, “unless it’s sensitive to a mission or something?”

The droid replied, “This is not related to any mission.”

Luke waited for Leia’s cue then, but she seemed to be done with being trapped in a room with all of that testosterone and wanted things done. “Just play it, please.”

“Very well, Captain.”

A hologram beamed from the droid to the middle of the room, and a man dressed in a medical uniform transmitted to the room. “Captain Organa, Commander Skywalker. Please forgive the abrupt nature of this message, but I realized you both needed to know this immediately.” The man scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “When we requested a human donor for Commander Skywalker, we tested all volunteers, and you, Captain Organa were almost perfectly compatible. You know this, and I again thank you for your donation. Commander Skywalker would have weeks of recovery ahead of him if you hadn’t been here.”

Luke and Leia shared a glance and then focused again on the hologram. “It seems that we unintentionally ran some additional tests, however, and found something that will definitely be of interest to the two of you. You are genetically siblings. In fact, cellular analysis puts you at identical ages even taking into account the differences in upbringing, which would make you fraternal twins.” The man cleared his throat. “I am unaware of your personal histories but I have no reason to doubt the accuracy of these tests.” He smiled awkwardly. “Congratulations, Captain and Commander. Should you have any questions, please direct them to any medic droid. Thank you.”     

The hologram ended.

No one said a word.

The medic droid interrupted the silence. “Captain Organa? Commander Skywalker? You have both been advised to continue resting and a medic droid will be in to check on your recovery in,” It seemed to be tabulating, “One hour.” The door slid open and the droid exited the room.

It was Han who finally broke the silence with a raucous laugh, “You’ve got to be kidding me!?” He doubled over, clutching at his stomach. “She—“ he pointed to red-faced Leia and gasped for breath—“She kissed you!” He swung his finger toward Luke who couldn’t hide his mortification. “And you’re her brother!” He couldn’t control the laughter anymore. He struggled for breath as he wiped the tears away. “And you called ME a nerf-herder!”

An alarm sounded in the hallway, not that the announcement to follow was audible over Han’s hysterics. “Captain Solo,” Threepio interrupted, “you and Chewbacca are needed in the command center. There seems to be a situation.”

Han continued to laugh as he worked to pull himself together. “Oh, man. You can’t make that stuff up, can you?”

Now both Luke and Leia glared at him together, which started the laughing fit anew. “Yup!” He pointed at them again, “Now I see the resemblance! I don’t know how I could’ve missed it!”

Neither of them said a word.

... and Han’s laughter could still be heard as he walked down the corridor and away from a very awkward conversation.

[vincess-princess]

ex malo bonum

Chapter 4.

Word count: 5707 Warnings: violence, self-harm tendencies, restraints, lots of blood, GRAPHIC NON-CON. Proceed with caution!  Author’s note: you wouldn’t believe this, fellas. arnold updates. a one in the lifetime experience. 

The rest of the night Vince spent in hazy slumber, the one that at first feels like a heavy, cozy blanket that grows heavier and heavier until it starts strangling. It might have been because of his blood loss, he figured later, since neither angels nor demons, no matter who he was at the moment, actually needed sleep. Tommy was probably right, though. This body, which didn’t let him destroy it at first, was now on the verge of collapsing. It needed more careful treatment.

And… Tommy. Vince couldn’t get his head around him. Hurting him, then coming in at night to fix him. Trying to help him get through an encounter with Nikki, then attempting to do the same Nikki wanted to do to him. There was no logic in his actions, no motivation. And he called him “a lot of fun”. There was no innate hate behind his words, the feeling so natural to both angels and demons, the feeling that kept them against each other. There was nothing fun in that. Tommy, however, managed to find it.

Vince was dragged back from his slumber in the early morning when the sky had only started to color. There was a sound, sharp, loud, alien to Vince. He had never heard it; it was so hostile it sent a shiver down his spine. Vince was both curious and averse to seeing its source. Must have been one of those terrible inventions humans used to kill each other not so long ago. Vince had never seen them; he was kept up there snowed under all the paperwork. So many people to die meant so many souls needed handling.

The sound thundered along the streets unnervingly close to the house Vince was kept in before fading away in a few seconds, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness in the air.

Then the emptiness was broken by a scream, a scream in a very familiar voice. Nikki’s. And… angry.

Vince shuddered. He could only hope the anger hadn’t been caused by Tommy’s night affair. The entire conversation they had with Tommy was now running in his head, with no end and no beginning, and every time the word “Nikki” stood out in that mess, Vince could feel his own fear, almost physical at this point, pulsating in his stomach. It felt like a cold icky lump in his chest unfolding more and more, releasing more cold, liquid fear into his veins. It was irrational, of course, because what would Nikki do to him apart from hitting? How would he hurt him when Vince welcomed his pain, even longed for it?

Still, the lump was there, a constant, merciless reminder of Vince’s own weakness over something he didn’t even know about, of his unworthiness. He had to remind himself that he, after all, used to be God’s warrior once. He might not have been one anymore, but he surely wasn’t going to just let Hell claim him like that, without an effort. He would take everything Nikki would do to him like He did. He might have rejected him, but Vince wasn’t yet going to discard everything his life had been about before that happened.

Wait, yet?..

Vince waited, flinching at every sound from behind the door. He could hear worried voices in another room, voices that from whispering sometimes rose up to screaming, but even then it was hard to make out words. Occasionally he heard quick footsteps in the hall, but none of them stopped in front of his door.

The sun had gone up and was approaching its highest point in the sky, and still - nothing. Vince stared at it until he went temporarily blind, dull pain starting to throb behind his eyelids. The pain in his shoulder had decreased, turning from sharp strikes of pain throughout his whole upper body into a dull and totally bearable pulsation under the skin. The cut had closed over the night, and only a drop or two of blood oozed from it from time to time. The scratches from claws on Vince’s cheek had almost healed as well, leaving only red itchy traces. Vince dug his nails into one of them as hard as he could, but his nails were too short to actually hurt him, only leaving faint traces. He tried to tear the thread off and open the cut, but the thread turned out to be very strong.

Vince needed the pain and couldn’t get it.

Nikki came when the sun had already started to set, coloring the sky so brightly Vince couldn’t tear his gaze away from them. The Earth was ugly, ugly and cruel, but there were times when Vince remembered that it once was His creation. Humans might have disfigured it beyond recognition, but the core, the idea behind the Earth remained unchanged.

Now, however, it didn’t seem good. No world that had given birth to such a creature as Nikki did.

Nikki closed the door quietly, approached the bed and bent down to Vince’s face. Vince pretended to be asleep when he entered the room, but he didn’t need eyes to sense him. The air as though grew colder with his presence. Or was that the trickle of fear down Vince’s spine that made his hands shaky?

Nikki’s hand, that stretched out to grab his hurt shoulder and shake it violently, also was cold.

“Wake up, blondie,” he whispered quietly, almost tenderly, and this hint of tenderness made Vince open his eyes in surprise and, maybe, maybe, a little bit of hope. It was taken from him that very moment. The eyes that met his gaze were not green – they were pitch-black.

“I see Tommy visited you last night,” Nikki continued, rubbing his thumb over the stitches. It stung under his touch. “What a dumbass, huh? Didn’t even use the chance.” Nikki’s other hand slid across Vince’s chest, fingertips barely touching the skin.

“He did,” Vince said, staring right between Nikki’s eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to look directly into those pits of darkness, but he’d be damned, and he meant that literally, if he showed his fear in front of Nikki, even slightly. He wasn’t afraid, he reminded himself. Nikki couldn’t hurt him more than he had already been hurt - when he fell.

“Oh, really? Glad to hear that,” Nikki grinned and sat down on the bed, his palm pressing lightly onto Vince’s chest, not deep enough to hurt, but enough to hold him in place. “And how did it go? Did you like it?”

“He was interrupted,” Vince murmured. It felt as though cold threads of fear were seeping from Nikki’s fingers into Vince’s chest, sticking together into an icy lump.

“By Mick, right?” the hand moved down onto his stomach, tickling his skin with the claws, half an inch away from pain. Vince remembered how deep those claws could dig in. “Such a pity. In this house, I always have to do everything myself.”

Vince didn’t answer. Next moment, the claws dug into his skin, drawing a sharp inhale out of him.

“You know no one will come and save you now,” Nikki smiled sweetly.

“All bark and no bite,” Vince croaked, his mouth suddenly going dry.

Nikki blinked, taken aback for a moment. Only a moment, though.

“Kinky,” he said then and leaned towards him in a swift movement, obscuring his vision by a mass of black hair with an artificial, somewhat bitter smell. Teeth closed on his neck and bit through the skin, drawing blood and shooting strikes of pain down his spine.

Here was the pain that Vince craved so much. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in it. He waited with bated breath for the familiar rush of relief to wash away the discomfort of pain, to clear his head and to bring his emotions under control.

Only, it didn’t come. It was just simple pain now. Humiliating. Undeserved. Senseless. Pain he had to endure for a demon’s enjoyment. Not for the sins of humankind. Not even for his own sins.

For Nikki’s hard-on.

Vince’s hand grabbed a fistful of Nikki’s hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to unclench his teeth. It was a short victory: he made Nikki yelp in pain, but then he grasped Vince’s wrist, digging his claws into it so deeply Vince’s fingers weakened their grasp. He had to release Nikki’s hair and jerk his hand back, unsuccessfully trying to break free from the grip.

“Well, you’re fucking making me,” Nikki hissed, reaching for Vince’s handcuffed hand. Next moment cold metal wrapped around his hurt wrist - Vince had no idea how the demon managed to do that without a key - chaining it to the bedhead like the other wrist. Again.

Nikki straddled him, disheveled. “Usually I don’t like my toys restrained,” he said through heavy breathing. “But having you like this is kinda hot. What are you gonna do now, angel?”

Vince kicked him on the back as far as his left knee, the only unrestrained part of his body, could reach. He aimed at the head, but only reached the shoulder, making Nikki fall forward and almost sprawl on top of him. Nikki rolled to the side and with his elbow stopped another kick, gripping Vince’s leg once it reached his arm and clutching onto it. He then pinned it to the mattress with both his knees and scrambled to get his belt out of the belt loops. Vince wriggled helplessly under him, trying to push him off, but to no avail. The belt wrapped around his ankle and tied it tightly to the bedpost.

Once it was done and Vince couldn’t move at all, Nikki sighed with relief and leaned back, observing his work with a satisfied smile. Vince tried to jerk his legs and arms before realizing he probably looked like a dying animal in a trap, the most undignified situation he could imagine, so he lay still – he would not let Nikki enjoy seeing him struggling like that. Only his eyes were burning holes in Nikki’s face.

“As I said,” Nikki continued like nothing had happened, “I don’t usually like my toys tied up. But you’re truly something else. So… fierce. And so helpless at the same time.” He smiled, and Vince was sure he caught a moment of unexpected fondness before the smile turned into a sneer.

Nikki stretched out his hand and caressed Vince’s cheek, the one with the scars – now barely visible lines – from his claws. “I like your spirit, y’know.”

If not for Nikki’s quick reaction, Vince would have bitten his fingers off.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” the demon grinned, but the next moment his smile wilted as fast as it appeared. “Now back to business. I’ve had enough of your stubbornness already.”

“If you’re so pissed with me, why don’t you leave me alone then?” Vince spat out.

“In your wildest dreams, honey.”

Nikki got on top of him again and leaned forward to the bite on his neck. The blood oozed from it slowly but steadily, and a few drops had already stained the sheets. Not that it made a big difference: the sheets were already dark red and black, and smelled no better than they looked.

Nikki licked the blood off, his tongue warm and wet on his skin. Vince winced in disgust.

“You taste heavenly,” he carefully tucked a stray lock of Vince’s hair behind his ear and leaned towards it, so close Vince could feel his breath on the skin. “And I mean that literally. You still have a lot of heaven in you.”

Still. Vince turned away from Nikki, not wanting to see the complacent expression on his face. But even that he wasn’t allowed to do.

“Squeamish, huh?” Nikki’s fingers grasped Vince’s chin and forcefully turned his head back to face him. He smiled, but Vince would rather he didn’t. “That won’t do, angel. You’re gonna look at me the entire time. Get me? Look up there, right in my eyes. And if you don’t,” he paused for effect, his grip on Vince’s chin tightened, “it’ll hurt.”

Pain, more pain. Wasn’t Vince craving it?

“Good,” he said indifferently, staring right at the ceiling above Nikki’s shoulder.

For a second Nikki looked at him blankly. Then Vince’s guts were torn out of his stomach, dragged out alive and wrapped around the bedpost.

Or rather, he felt like they did. This terrible, unbearable pain in his stomach couldn’t be a result of anything less than that. Vince screamed, but even his voice was taken from him, and his mouth only drew in short, panicky gasps. Vince cried, but tears weren’t coming, as though afraid of blurring Nikki’s face in front of him, his calm gaze and satisfied grin. Edges of Vince’s vision started going black, Nikki’s face – fading away. Vince’s throat was raspy from all the screaming, his breath broken and shallow. The demon must have stuck a hand into his stomach and tear out his organs one by one, so slowly, so cruelly-

It was over. Oh Lord, it was over. Over. Must be His help. Of course, He hadn’t forgotten about him, or He would let him pass out from the pain. Of course, Vince still mattered to Him. After all, he was His son – a wayward one, but a son nevertheless.

The world around Nikki’s face gained clarity, and Vince could again feel the warm metal of his bracelets, now bloody from all the jerking he unconsciously did, and the rugged belt against his skin. He couldn’t help but glance down at his stomach, to see if his guts were still there. The skin was dirty and covered in dry blood, but otherwise perfectly unharmed.

“Still feel like it’ll be good for you, wannabe martyr?” Nikki grinned. “Or will you be a good boy and do what I say?”

The urge to spit him in the face was almost irresistible. Almost, because the pain, terror, and desperation Nikki had made him feel were still fresh in his mind.

The grasp on Vince’s chin tightened again, claws digging into his skin.

“I’m waiting for an answer,” Nikki notified coldly.

“I’ll…” humiliation got the right words stuck in his throat. It took Vince an immense effort to push them out. “I’ll – I’ll do what you say.”

“That’s a good boy.” Nikki let go of his chin and wiped a drop of sweat off Vince’s forehead. “Alright, now let’s finally get down to business. I swear, if you pull one more trick, I’ll just choke you, and not in a romantic way.” Wait, there was a romantic way of cho-

Nikki unzipped Vince’s pants and pulled them down together with his underwear, and as Vince felt goosebumps on his naked skin, every thought he had in mind drowned in a sudden wave of pure, primal fear. It was hard to believe Nikki wouldn’t do what he promised, but hope, oh, that bitch had almost made Vince believe that it was just bluff, despite Nikki looking like the last person to do it. But now it was actually happening, with Nikki settled between his legs, undressing him, all so terribly real, that every little drop of hope Vince had had before evaporated, and instead of a steady flow of emotions in his mind, there was now a desert, blinding rays of fear turning every positive emotion into sand, and the hot, dry wind of desperation forming dunes out of it.

Nikki’s voice brought Vince’s mind back to the real world. “Damn, that won’t do,” the demon frowned, and Vince’s stomach sank. What else did he want from him? Wasn’t what he had already done enough?

But Nikki only poked at the belt around Vince’s leg with annoyance. Apparently, it prevented him from taking the pants off completely. They just bunched under Vince’s knees, not letting Nikki spread his legs wide enough.

“Should have undressed you first,” Nikki muttered, looking thoughtfully at the pants, then raised his hand, with those long, pointy claws, and then there was a sound of fabric tearing. “I hope you weren’t attached to them or anything," Nikki patted Vince’s bare leg and with the last pat left his hand on his thigh.

It slowly slid up and settled on his hip, with a finger carefully circling the hipbone. Then it moved onto his stomach, as though Nikki could feel where Vince’s terror was located. He probably did. No, he definitely did.

Something switched in Vince’s head. Wasn’t it enough that Nikki enjoyed his helplessness and humiliation? Did he want to enjoy his fear too? Completely break him, turn into a wrecked mess?

Those thoughts felt alien to him, like they had been sent to his brain from the outside. But this was only for a moment – as they ran like poison through Vince’s veins, they became so personal, so incredibly his, that no other person in the world could feel exactly the same.

The very next moment from a poison they became a drug. Vince let it into his thoughts. Embraced it.

Well, he better make a fucking effort then, the drug whispered in a familiar tone.

“You’re so tense,” Nikki said sweetly. His voice felt like a bitter pill in a sugary coating. “That won’t do.”

“What the fuck else do you want from me?” Vince threw his head back onto the pillow, looking at Nikki with exhaustion. He wanted all of it to be over already, but he knew Nikki wouldn’t just let him out like that. Still, one could dream. “Just do the thing already.”

“We’re not in a hurry,” Nikki reminded softly, but his hand on Vince’s stomach tensed up, ready to let out claws at any second. “Do you remember what I told you at the bar?”

“You talked a lot of bullshit,” Vince spat out.

“Oh, for sure,” Nikki snorted. “But there was a moment of truth there. It’s going to take as much as I need, and in the end, you’ll be begging for more. Remember?”

“You fucking wish.”

“Wanna make a bet?” Nikki offered, flashing a toothy smile. “That you’ll like it, little slut that you are.”

Vince spat at him. Most of the spit was left on his own chin, but some reached the aim.

Nikki wiped it off of his face, his grin growing wider, and oh God, did he have that many teeth before?

He pushed Vince’s legs wider, jerked one up by the knee, looking at what no one had ever looked before. Even Vince hadn’t, too busy coming up with various suicide scenarios in his time in the vessel. Vince wasn’t sure what the purpose of all those body parts he had down there was – there surely was some, but he hadn’t got to know. Still, he felt blood rushing to his cheeks against his will. Some kind of instinctive reaction? The feeble remains of the vessel’s own consciousness?

He didn’t get to finish this train of thought, though.

“You know,” Nikki kept smiling, that fake, terrifying smile of his, with too many teeth, “usually there’s supposed to be some kind of lubrication there. To, y’know, relieve the friction. But, unfortunately, we don’t have any.” He pushed Vince’s leg up onto his shoulder, giving himself better access to his lower parts, raised his hand to his face, so Vince could see it, and curled two of his fingers, and Vince slowly started to realize what he wanted to do with-

Then his flesh was being ripped open, Nikki’s finger digging deep into it with the claw out.

Vince dropped his head back onto the pillow, clutching at the handcuffs with so much desperate power he felt the skin on his wrists bruise, scratching the bedhead frantically and trying so, so hard not to scream - all in vain. It was muffled whimpering at first, then, when the second finger joined in, screaming. The world went bleak and blurry with tears, blackened at the edges of Vince’s vision.

Then Nikki pulled his fingers out, squeezing a hoarse gasp – all Vince could get out at the moment – out of him. Through tears, Vince could only see something red where Nikki’s hand was supposed to be.

“So we’ll replace it with natural lubrication,” Nikki finished as if nothing happened. The sound of his voice barely managed to get through the buzz in Vince’s ears, whether it began from his own screams or from how hard he tried to hold them.

“Don’t wanna talk back anymore, angel?” Nikki bent down to Vince’s face and wiped a tear off his cheek. “Funny how just a little bit of pain made you change your mind so quickly."

The poison, no, the drug, drowned out by pain before, fluttered weakly in his chest and wilted. Vince looked dumbly at Nikki and through Nikki, not seeing his face inches away from his own.

For that, he got a powerful slap to the face – this time without claws.

“You’ll space out when I allow you to,” Nikki reminded him sternly. Vince had to focus on him and blink to show he heard him. A simple nod seemed too much of an effort.

“Let’s move on then.” Nikki returned to his place between Vince’s legs, now with a growing red spot on the sheets between them. Vince heard him unzipping his pants.

No one will come this time, he thought.

No one did.

It was bigger than fingers but at least didn’t have claws on it. It went easily through torn flesh, making Vince writhe and whimper with every inch deeper. Nikki’s hand lay heavily on his chest, pressing him down to the mattress, not letting him resist in any way. Not that Vince even tried.

“Say goodbye to your virginity,” Nikki told him once he was fully inside, his hands on Vince’s hips, one holding onto them firmly, the other rubbing his thigh - back and forth, back and forth. “A little too much blood than there usually is, but you’ll survive. Most likely.”

Most likely?

Vince’s stomach twitched. Maybe it was just another one of Nikki’s threats, he tried to calm himself. Just another threat with no ground behind it, said solely for the sake of it. He lifted his head up to check Nikki’s face, but then caught a glimpse of his eyes and dropped it back, his arms weakening. While Nikki’s face was calm, his body relaxed, his movements well-calculated, his eyes were where his real emotions could be seen through.

He didn’t lie - he couldn’t guarantee for Vince to survive this. His eyes were that not of a sentient being, but a reflection of a single emotion so intense as though it took human form. It was hunger. Hunger for pain.

For Vince’s pain.

Nikki thrust in for the first time, and Vince exhaled a soft, almost unrecognizable “damn”. Nikki’s dick felt burning hot against his flesh, and Vince’s blood was boiling, and his entire lower part of the body was on fire. Not a good kind of fire - the kind of fire that burned witches. Just like it burned sins out of their bodies, it was burning something out of Vince’s.

Nikki’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, and he thrust again, and again, and again. Vince grit his teeth and bit his lips till they bled and swallowed his own screams till his throat ached. He wouldn’t scream. He wouldn’t give Nikki that pleasure.

When Nikki changed his position and hovered over him, placing a hand at the side of his head, Vince instinctively turned his head to the side - only to be gripped by the chin and turned back. Nikki kept thrusting in, but more for the sake of keeping up the rhythm.

“You’re so quiet,” Nikki remarked idly, his other hand moving slowly, too slowly from Vince’s hip to the stomach and then the chest. “Doesn’t it hurt anymore?”

Vince didn’t answer. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, his tongue sat swollen and dry in his mouth.

He should have learned by then that Nikki didn’t like being ignored. A hand wrapped around his throat, and Vince suddenly realized this was how he was going to die. He didn’t pay much attention to the way his nose inhaled and exhaled air before, it came so naturally to his vessel… now it was gone, taken from him. Vince gasped, trying to break free out of the grasp, but was immediately pressed back onto the pillow by the relentless hand on his neck. Panic washed over him, panic so intense he hadn’t felt even when he stood in front of a heavy truck, flew off a building, fell into a delirium of drug overdose. He had something there with him then – confidence, security even. Back then he was invulnerable, indestructible, bulletproof; he just needed to show the extremes he was ready to go for to be forgiven.

Now there was no security, no connection, no feeling of protection. He was alone, and nobody was going to save him. The hand on his throat cut off his air. He needed to breathe to live, and he couldn’t, and he was going to die, Vince realized as the edges of his vision started to blacken.

Then the grip on his throat loosened.

“Scary, right?” Nikki whispered in his ear, tickling his face with his hair. “Vessels are so fragile. Squeeze their throat for three minutes – and they’re gone. And you’re gone. No vessel - no you.”

“Don’t,” Vince managed to get out. His hurt throat distorted his voice, turning it into barely understandable croaking.

“Why not?” Nikki put his hand on his throat again, and Vince tensed up, but Nikki’s hand only stroked the skin where his fingers were digging in merely a minute ago. “Don’t you wanna die a martyr? Go back to Heaven?”

“I can’t,” pain accompanied every sound coming out of Vince’s mouth. And you know that was left unsaid, hanging in the air, too long a phrase for him to handle.

“Fallen angels who haven’t finished transformation belong to neither Hell nor Heaven.” Nikki informed him matter-of-factly. “Do you know what happens to them when they die?”

“No,” Vince moved his lips silently.

“They stay here, on Earth,” Nikki said casually. “With no vessel, nowhere to go. Restless spirits without a purpose, full with grief over what they had lost. Nobody knows them, nobody needs them, and the only recognition they get are horror stories.”

Why are you telling me this? Vince wanted to say. Only a barely audible “why?” came out.

“Just to be sure you know what lies ahead if you decide to end your miserable existence,” Nikki smiled, but only with his lips. His eyes were devoid of emotion, fixed on Vince, examining him, watching his reaction. “Do you prefer that, angel?”

Three days ago the answer would have been obvious for him. He would have gladly accepted immortal grief and desperation if it meant he wouldn’t fall even lower, wouldn’t turn into something he despised so much. He did something terrible and deserved to be punished for it, and if those grief and desperation were his punishment, then so be it.

He wasn’t the same as three days ago, though.

Vince knew that every moment of silence elongated the time the hand that now was stroking his skin leisurely was going to spend squeezing his throat.

He knew that and he kept silent. He didn’t know what he would choose anymore.

“Don’t wanna talk? Alright then.” Nikki’s grip hardened, and Vince was once again gasping and suffocating and clutching onto his restraints. Then Nikki entered him again, thrusting into him with merciless determination, and the world became a mess of flashes and blurs in front of his eyes. He heard ringing and gasping in his ears. Pain was the only constant thing in the background.

Nikki released him only when his jerking became weaker, more like a convulsion than a struggle. Vince inhaled hungrily, not noticing the pain going through his neck and chest with his every breath.

“Look at this. I made an angel cry,” Nikki wiped a tear off Vince’s cheek. Vince hadn’t even noticed he was crying. “What a monster I am, right?” He kept moving his hips at a steady pace, but the pain didn’t feel as unbearable anymore. Maybe Vince had gotten used to it already.

All he could do was a barely noticeable nod, but it was enough for Nikki.

“Yeah, of course- oh fuck, angel-“ Nikki moaned after an especially deep thrust which made Vince bite his lip, “-of course, I am.” He smiled crookedly, no usual complacency in his expression, and sped up, thrusting with such a violent passion even moans didn’t manage to form in Vince’s throat – only short, hiccupping gasps.

The bed was shaking, its headboard was bumping against the wall, and Vince tried to focus on that, on the simple, repetitive sound, but the hotness and pain in the lower part of his body and the sounds of skin slapping against skin were too loud, too strong to be drowned out. Barely minutes must have passed, but to Vince it felt like ages.

Maybe he died as a result of one of his suicide attempts and this was his Hell. His own, personal torture. Maybe no fallen angel really became a demon and was instead given their own punishment. Maybe there were no demons at all, and those were just other angels taking revenge for their own sufferings on the newer ones since they couldn’t reach those up in Heaven. Maybe Nikki was just the same as he was, just had gone further down the road. Maybe he…

Nikki let out a choked moan, his movements growing more and more erratic, his breaths shallow. Vince didn’t know all the whereabouts of hooking-up, but this surely meant something.

“Damn,” Nikki choked on his own breath. His hands, gripping Vince’s hips, were shaking, “damn, angel-“

Then he squeezed his eyes shut, his thrusts faltering, and something spilled inside of Vince, something hot and slick and oh God, was that really what he thought it was?

No, thank God, it was white. It mixed with blood on the sheets, and Nikki watched it with complacency on his face and exhaustion in his eyes. Vince dropped his head on the pillow. He wanted to pass out so badly. Just fall into darkness and come back when it’s all over, when Nikki’s gone.

Nikki, still breathing heavily, stretched out his hand and grabbed Vince’s torn pants, wiping off blood and sweat and the white thing.

“So how was that?” he asked casually, throwing the pants away and lying down on his side beside Vince. He propped Vince’s head up with his hand and examined him. His face was so close to Vince’s he could see his nostrils move when breathing. he looked away, at the ceiling, and this time he was practically sure he could see eyes up there. Or were those just colorful circles in his eyes?

“Answer me,” Nikki poked him in the chest, but not very strongly, just to attract attention. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you didn’t? Or is oxygen deficiency causing memory loss for ya?”

Vince looked back at him for a little longer this time. Nikki’s expression wasn’t mocking or smug like it had been throughout the whole thing. And his eyes - his eyes started going back to green again, now the color of rotten leaves.

“You didn’t fulfill your promise,” Vince whispered hoarsely.

“What, about the pleasure?” Nikki raised his eyebrows. “But we didn’t make a bet, did we? Or do you consider spitting in the face an expression of agreement?”

A demon is always a demon, Vince thought wearily. It wouldn’t help him anyway: he would find a way to turn the bet against him. They always did. That’s why they were demons.

“Are you satisfied now?” Vince whispered almost soundlessly. His throat was sore and couldn’t get out anything louder than a whisper.

“Huh?” Nikki seemed to be taken aback, but only for a second. “I guess,” he said slowly, even thoughtfully. “I should be.”

So all of that wasn’t enough for him, Vince thought with growing desperation. What was he going to do next, flip him on his stomach and start again?

It must have been written all over his face because Nikki laughed and pinched his cheek.

“Calm down, angel. I’ve had enough for today. Poor little thing, I even feel sorry for you. Not your fault that you got into my hands after falling. Though I doubt there are demons out there who wouldn’t jump at the chance.”

“Sorry?” Vince tried to sound indignantly, but with his voice barely louder than a whisper it came out almost pitifully. “You loved it!” he got the intonation right this time, but this three-word phrase sent him into a fit of coughing.

Nikki patiently waited for him to finish, then spoke quietly, in a tone too calm to be natural.

“You see, it’s not so much about you personally – though you did piss me off with that holy toothpick of yours – as about you being an angel. A fallen one, yes, but still an angel. And I’m a demon, blondie. And Heaven has done me a lot of wrong.”

“And you’re taking the revenge on me?”

“Not quite. That’s not a personal matter between people, or demons, or whatever. Honestly, any other angel with a fuckable vessel could be in your place. It’s more of a desecration, sweetheart. God loves his children, so what could hurt him more than hurting one of them?”

Vince expected to hear hate behind those words, but there was nothing. Nikki sounded like he was explaining something simple to a child. Like it was so obvious it didn’t even need an explanation. Like it was normal.

Maybe it really was, and Vince just couldn’t understand it yet?

“You used to be a child of God too,” he murmured, avoiding looking at Nikki and practically feeling his eyes staring intently at him, waiting for something.

“I rejected him,” Nikki finally said after a long pause. “Long ago.”

[moonlightmadnessreviews]

Midsommar (2019): Bleakness in Broad Daylight

As I left the theater after my viewing of Midsommar, one thought rang clearly through my mind: “I NEED to discuss what I’ve just watched!” 2018’s Hereditary effected me much in the same way and, though the movies are at times visual opposites, Aster has solidified his filmic vocabulary. Produced by A24, Midsommar sees Aster once again tackling issues of grief, denial and one character’s journey to fulfill their destiny.

Both written and directed by Ari Aster, Midsommar begins with a mural. Upon this first watch (and considering my brain was scrambling to keep up with my eyes as they did their best to take in every detail), it seems the mural depicted the change of seasons. This is a theme the movie plays with throughout its nearly 2 hour run time. The mural opens like the curtain on a grand stage and invites us into a cold, snowy landscape. An ethereal chanting plays over jump cut after jump cut. Frame after frame of this vast cold land. Then suddenly, as if startled out of a dream, we jump from snowy treetops to a suburban aerial view that zooms in deeper and deeper to the tempo of a phone desperately ringing.

We are introduced to Dani, played by Florence Pugh, as she attempts to reach her parents after receiving an ominous e-mail from her sister. After leaving her voicemail, Dani places a phone call to her boyfriend Christian, played by Jack Reynor, who is with a group of friends when Dani calls. The friends are rounded out by Josh (William Jackson Harper), Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) and finally, Mark (Will Poulter and his friggin’ eyebrows, don’t even get me started). We learn that Christian feels he should breakup with Dani, this current freak out over her inability to reach her parents and her bi-polar sister’s erratic behavior being the latest in what is apparently a long line of freak outs. He receives yet another call from Dani and what follows is just the first of Midsommar’s shocking and brutally bleak scenes.

I won’t get into spoilers for this scene (“Haunting in its realism.” is as much as I’ll give you) but it does bring me to what I find incredibly interesting about Aster’s direction. The director has managed to set quite firmly his filmic vocabulary via one device in particular and one which has become a favorite topic of discussion of mine: the Ari Aster Cry. Last year’s Hereditary gave us one of the most brutal, realistic and certainly uncomfortable depictions of grief through Toni Collette’s cries before, during, and even after her daughter’s funeral. A round of applause is certainly in order for Collette’s performance, but I also feel Aster has a way of bringing these cries out of his actresses, capturing them in long, uninterrupted takes. Pugh gives an equally inspired, incredibly pained, and mournful cry after the aforementioned events. Your skin crawls as screams, cries, and an assortment of other guttural noises leave her body.

When I saw Hereditary, a couple left during the post-funeral cry scene, and I half expected to see at least one couple bail out at this point as well. Alas, I suppose I was accompanied by a more courageous audience this time. What I love is how Aster sticks our faces deep inside a character’s grief and refuses us any respite, not unlike a heavy handed owner shoving his dog’s face in its own mess, forcing us to deal with how uncomfortable we are with hearing someone express genuine pain and suffering. And so, we are ushered along by our title card, reminding us we’ve merely been given a glimpse of what we’re in for.

Cinematography is provided by Pawel Pogorzelski, and his contributions are critical in helping us feel fully immersed in the beautiful, albeit frightening world that Midsommar paints. We follow Dani, Christian and his friends to Sweden for a Midsommar festival Pelle has invited everyone to. We learn he grew up in a commune where old Scandinavian rituals are still being followed. Landscapes are shot in such a way that they seem inviting, yet so vast that one can not help but feel isolated. As the festival and many of its ceremonies take place in open fields washed in bright and direct sunlight, it is as if the film makers are forcing our eyes open, ensuring we can not look away from any of the horrifying events. I love the way Aster moves the camera through a room, much like we are looking in on a stage play. He takes a similar approach in these open fields and though free of walls, he often frames characters with the commune’s bunk houses and shacks, helping to give our eyes those familiar points of reference.

Through Dani’s character, the movie explores themes of control and free will, or lack there of. We see her taking medication for either depression or anxiety. Often times she is offered hallucinogens and accepts merely out of a sense of obligation. I hesitate to call it peer pressure, because she accepts from a position of someone who doesn’t want to be a downer or a party pooper. She has relinquished control not only of her mind, but in her relationship with Christian, and her through her reluctance to deal with past traumas, handing herself over to them. Aster further explores Dani’s state of mind through camera work and the various jump cuts through out the movie which often see Dani being transported from place to place as if she has lost time and has snapped back into the present.

After a shot of the clouds outside Dani’s airplane window during their flight to Sweden, the camera begins to shake as if being jostled by turbulence, though it is more likely a view into Dani’s emotional state. Upon arriving to Pelle’s commune, the camera performs a beautiful rolling move, sweeping over the friends’ car and swapping the sky for the road to show us the name of the commune upside down, before planting us back on our feet. It’s a perfect analogy for how disoriented our characters are for much of the film’s runtime.

When dealing with gore, the movie once again forces us to witness horrific events in broad daylight. We bear witness to a ceremonial ättestupa (if you already know what that is, you’ll be amused by Josh’s reaction) in a stark, stone valley surrounded by lime. It seems to wash out and intentionally overexpose the scene to ratchet up the shock of blood, bone and gore. The camera hangs on these moments at times a beat too long, as if playing chicken with the viewer. “Will I cut to another scene, or will you cover your eyes? Are you enjoying the sound of this character fighting for breath after being bludgeoned, or are you dying to cover your ears and run from it?”

As vibrant and visually stunning as the movie is, it is certainly a slow burn. Much like the music provided by The Haxan Cloak, the movie can drone on at times, yet the notes it pedals to throughout help to keep it from losing its audience. Thankfully, Aster does not fill these droning moments with dumps of exposition, helping to keep the commune shrouded in mystery til the very last note. There are a few musical motifs that are stated throughout the movie, much like the visual clues set up in the first act which hint at the fate of each character and payoff in the final act, culminating in the crescendo that is the May Queen ceremony.

The movie ends with Dani making a monumentally important decision. After being broken down in the commune, forced time and time again to leave her comfort zone and put in incredibly uncomfortable positions, some viewers may see the ending as Dani just giving in and accepting once again a lack of control.

After having had time to think on the ending for the last day or so, I stick with my original take on the ending. We see Dani accept a new found power brought out of her at the exact moment she stops denying what has been in front of her the whole time: her grief, her failing relationship with Christian, and the fate of her friends. She purged herself of those demons through the iconic Ari Aster Cry and takes on the role of May Queen (not so much a spoiler as it is hinted that Pelle has chosen her for this exact role through out the movie), wearing a crown of breathing flowers and an oversized dress that is a bouquet onto itself. The tension built through the movie stands at one end, while Dani’s character arc builds from an opposite point, finally meeting in the middle high above their respective bases to form a pyramid which mirrors the sacred temple our protagonist stands before in the film’s final moments.

Midsommar is another masterpiece from the mind of Ari Aster. Though the film pairs nicely with Hereditary, it’s warm tones standing in contrast to the latter’s cold overcast, the film manages to stand firmly on its own. Another example of Aster’s exploration of grief, destiny and our longing for control, it also plays at our base need to feel as though we are part of a greater entity. As societal beings, we search for a home, a family, and at times though it seems impossible to fit in, we are shocked to find the strength we are looking for lies deep within ourself, like the sun on a midsummer’s day.

Rating: 5 Full Moons out of 5 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

[notesfrome]

Hange Week, Day 2: Support

one-shot; support pairing: levi ackerman/hange zoë word count: 2046 words note: for Hange Week at @hangelab on tumblr. Prompt for Day 2: Support. I’m crap at writing action-related stuff relating to their gear…but I tried. Minor manga spoilers (equipment related).

Link to fic at AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852924/chapters/36947985 

The forest laid dark and silent, with only the occasional chirp of a bird or the howl of a wolf breaking the eerie tranquility. That, and the incessant grumbling of a certain Survey Corps captain.

“I cannot believe I let you fucking talk me into this,” Levi scowled, securing the belts and straps of his new gear. Despite the intensive amount of training they had on using it, it still felt a bit foreign, to have a gas cylinder secured to his back, and pistols in his hands.

Beside him, Hange laughed, as she performed her own weapon check, counting her bullets. “Come on,” she chirped. “You know you need the extra practice, Captain. You did miss two targets during training today.”

Levi’s eyebrow twitched dangerously as he glared at the laughing scientist. “Shut your mouth, shitty glasses. You missed three.”

“Now, now,” she said teasingly. “Is this the way you talk to your fellow Squad Leader?”

“Tch,” he snorted, carefully strapping his scabbards, with the blades sheathed within, to his thigh. He much preferred the blades; he was always more comfortable with knives and things that were sharp. Guns and pistols seemed so…clumsy, and there was no elegance in using them. But they wouldn’t be using the blades that night. Hange had insisted that they should get some target practice done, using the pistols and the new vertical maneuvering equipment.

Her words from earlier in the evening drummed in his head, when she was trying to persuade him to join her for a practice session. We – all of us – are experts when it comes to the blades, but you know we need more training with the pistols.

Levi didn’t disagree with that – what he didn’t understand was, why it had to be at fucking one o’clock in the morning, and to make it even incomprehensible, she had dragged him outside, beyond Wall Maria, into the forests. He surveyed the hastily assembled training ground before them, numbered targets pinned to trees in a haphazard, uncoordinated pattern that probably only made sense to Hange.

“You do realise that if we meet a bunch of fucking Titans, we’ll be royally fucked and it will be all your fault?” He griped further, crouching low on the branch, pistols in hand. Shooting her a sideways glance, he immediately knew that it was the wrong thing to say.

Hange’s eyes lit up, and he fucking swore that they were sparkling; shit, that look – pure, manic excitement – was written all over her face. “Really???” She squealed. “Do you think we’ll see any Titans? It’s night time – any moving Titan we see may very well be an Abnormal!”

Inwardly, he groaned to himself; great, this was just what he fucking needed, for her to go off searching for some fucking Titan safari. “Wait, four eyes, hold…” The rest of his words were lost as she braced herself on the branch, and with an ear-splitting WOOO HOOOO, she leapt off the branch, hooking onto the next tree as she propelled forwards effortlessly.

“For fuck’s sake, Hange,” he growled, and as his own grappling hook attached itself to a nearby tree, he took off after his batshit insane companion.

BANG! BANG! She took out the first two targets, and then she performed a backflip, firing her hook backwards, where target three was before target two. Her pistol fired again, and unsurprisingly, it was right on target. “Come on, Levi!” she yelled, her voice high and thin, carried by the wind, as she launched herself towards the direction of her next target. “Don’t be such a slowpoke, shorty!”

Scowling and swinging through the empty space and air, he aimed at the first and second target. Firing the pistols on each of his hand, he hit them cleanly, and then he swung flawlessly around and hit the bullseye on the third target. Hange was in front of him, somersaulting as she flew towards the fourth target. There was no way in hell he was losing to her, she’d lord it over his fucking head for the next decade. He eyed the fourth target, he was a distance away, but he was sure he could shoot it from where he was.

BANG! Hange’s head whipped back towards his direction as his bullet found its target, her own aim faltering for a fraction of a second. Smirking, he whizzed past her, as she yelled indignantly. “Oh sure, show off your superior and perfect eyesight!”

As he took out the next two targets, Hange swung and leapt above him, trying to gain an upper hand in speed, which, in itself, was a rather impossible mission. Levi was the fastest in the Survey Corps, this was a known fact. But adrenaline seemed to be giving her an edge, and she was neck to neck with him, as they careened through the forest, taking out all the practice targets.

As the final target loomed, Levi took careful aim, and fired. A split second before he did, he heard her gun sounded, as he watched, her bullet embedded itself in the middle of a target, just a split second before his did.

“YEEEESSSSSSSSS!” She cheered, whooping as she waved her pistols in victory. Scowling, he shot his grappling hook to a nearby tree and swung himself upwards, landing on the broad bough, panting. Laughing victoriously, she somersaulted twice in the air, as he glared at her, arms folded.

“Fine, you won!” He yelled. “Now can we go back? I need some fucking sleep!”

“But, Levi!” She cried. “We haven’t even seen a Titan yet!”

“Does it look like I give a shit about Titans?”

Still laughing, Hange shot her grappling hooks towards the tree he was on. But she was so immersed with smirking victoriously at him that she didn’t notice her hook had tangled itself on a weak branch. As the branch broke, she lost her balance, but before she could regain it, her cable and hook tangled themselves in a mess of branches, pitching her forward. She then slammed face first into the tree, before dropping downwards.

“HANGE!” Levi yelled in horror, and jumped off the tree. He had to get her before she crashed headfirst into the ground. He had to get to her. His grappling hook, secured to a tree bough, gave him a lot more velocity, and he caught her, a metre and a split second before she hit the ground.They landed on the forest floor, her securely in his arms. 

“Hange!” he said, scrambling to his feet, looking over her frantically, his heart racing. “Fuck…Hange, are you…” his panic ebbed away a little as he heard her gave a little groan.

He literally thought he was going to collapse in fucking relief, as he grabbed her and hugged her close to him, breathing heavily. After a moment, he pushed her back, looking over her again anxiously. She didn’t look too injured, there were cuts and scrapes on her face, but her arms and legs seemed to be in their rightful positions.

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Did…did a Titan get me?” she murmured, putting a hand to her head.

Staring down at her, Levi felt annoyance gradually replacing his panic, though relief was still washing over him in waves. “No, shithead, a fucking tree got you,” he snapped.

“Oh, did it? Gee, death by a tree would be so embarrassing,” she winced, sitting up. “Imagine that, a Squad Leader of the Survey Corps - the most elite soldiers -, killed by a tree.” She shook her head a little, trying to clear it. “Ow.”

“Does your head hurt?” He asked, looking at her carefully.

“Not really, my face hurts more,” she said, grimacing as she touched her nose gingerly.

Levi snorted in laughter. “Yeah, no shit, you did faceplant onto a fucking tree, after all.” He helped her up to a sitting position, propped against the tree. “Can you try moving your arms and legs?” She nodded, and he watched her as she tested her arms, which seemed to be fine. She then moved her legs, and as she moved her right ankle, a flash of pain crossed her face.

“I think my right ankle is injured,” she said anxiously. “Oh shit, it had better just be a sprain, I can’t have a broken ankle, we have an expedition coming up, and we have spent months planning for it, it couldn’t be delayed while I…”

“Stop blabbering, shitty glasses,” Levi cut her off irritably. “If you had fucking listened to me, you’d be sleeping or performing some shitty experiment right now, and you would have avoided fucking yourself up. Now shut up, and let me look at your ankle.” Carefully, he unlaced her boot, pulling her off and holding her ankle in his hands. He touched it lightly, pressing into it, and Hange bit her lip, wincing a little. He ran his hand over her ankle bone, and then he nodded. “It’s just a sprain. Nothing is broken.”

“Oh great, thank goodness,” she heaved a sigh of relief, as she braced her arms against the tree, trying to stand up. Sighing, he helped her up, slinging her arm around his shoulder, supporting her carefully.

She held onto him, testing her ankle gingerly, before something seemed to occur to her. She turned to him, a huge grin on her face. “Oh hey! I won!”

Levi stared at her incredulously. “Really? Because you really look like a fucking, limping loser right now.”

“Ooooh, grumpy pants is having a bad case of sour grapes,” she taunted, and then her grin faded into a grimace. “Ow, ow, give me a moment.” Sighing, she looked around her. “Boy, it’s going to be a long walk back to camp.”

“Can you still use your gear?” He asked her, his tone abrupt.

She checked her cylinders and gas gauges, nodding. “Well, yeah, they’re still operational.”

“Good,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side securely. “I need you to be my left arm. Now, hold on to me.”

“Wait,” she began. “What…?”

“We’re not going to fucking walk back to camp, not with your ankle all fucked up and with fucking Titans possibly lurking around,” he said impatiently. “Let’s just do this the fast way, all right, four eyes?”

“But…”

“If you dare to say you want to catch a fucking Titan, I’ll personally deliver you to one.”

“No, I mean…”

Levi let out a huff of impatience. “Look, all you need to do is to follow my lead. I have enough strength to hold you up, I just need your hook as extra support, because I’ve got one arm around you to make sure you don’t fucking fall off.”

She glanced him skeptically, before seemingly coming to her own conclusion. “Fine, if this was the only way.”

Looking down at her, he felt himself softening as he thought about how close she came to being seriously injured, or, for that matter, how close she came to death. “Don’t worry. I’ll be supporting you all the way. Just hold on to me.”

Trust me, shitty glasses.

She nodded, and gripped his shoulder, as he tightened his hold around her waist. Taking a deep breath, he launched his first hook, and they both shot upwards. Immediately, Hange’s hook sank into another tree, and they moved forward easily. Levi followed up, the grappling hook digging into the bark of the next tree with a satisfying thunk. And on they flew, as it they had been doing it for their entire lives.  

“Woooooooo!” Hange whooped in his ear, evidently getting over her apprehension. “This is AWEEEEESOMEEEE!” She yelled happily as her hook caught another tree, and Levi easily swung them forward, whipping through the air.

“Stop shouting in my ear, shitty glasses, or I’ll drop you right now, I fucking swear,” Levi threatened, glaring at her.

She grinned at him, and then tucked her face against the side of his neck, brushing her lips softly against the skin there. “No, you won’t,” she said confidently.

Levi snorted derisively, but all the same, he pressed a quick kiss on her forehead, near her hairline, thanking his lucky stars that he had forced her to wash her hair yesterday.

She was fucking right, of course.

-

This...kinda got away from me. It was supposed to be short. 300 word short. But I think I am happy with what I end up with, although “support” is really used loosely in this sense, haha.

Feedback appreciated!

edit, 16/09/2018: Made minor edits, because I just realised that Hange wasn't commander when they had the new gear. Oops, my bad. Brain was elsewhere.

[firewindmill]

Hi Nemo! I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I totally trust your analyses and your views on things, so I was just wondering what your thoughts were on the Hypable interview with Lauren and Joaquim? (If you have read it). Someone I follow has said that they noticed some fellow Sheith shippers declaring our ship as ‘dead’ following on from that? What did you take away from it? Thanks in advance, hope you’re doing ok today!

Yeah, I checked out Donya’s article! And I’m starting to recover from the stuff going on at my pics of shiro blog, steadily. 

First off, I respect her as a entertainment journalist - I’ve written in Entertainment and Arts newspapers myself in my local community in the past so I understand and know the tone and how it should sound and she’s very professional in her work and writing that I’ve read.

Secondly, because it’s a professional article, she asked thoughtful questions to things we wanted to know as an audience without baiting for specific info that we “want to hear”. What LM and JDS offered in answers is how they interpreted in answering the question and I think we got a lot and there’s a lot of nuance we can/could pick up from. It’s also a Shiro-centric article so, given that, it’s going to be focused on him and the people he’s closely connected to, and in this case, Adam, his ex as revealed in the recent season premiere and Keith, his best friend at his side this whole time.

Here’s my take on it (putting under the cut cause I tend to yammer but like, try to be thorough in my reasoning, effective about it, and starting with what we know prior to this particular interview which I WILL get to.):

Let’s remember that in prior interviews, that romance wasn’t a big thing in Voltron, the focus is obviously on the paladins strength individually, and most importantly, together. Romance, if any, would be written organically, and if so in that writing process, signs of it come in as early as possible from the very first episode. To skip to the end that summarizes what I’m saying for arc analysis for sheith and to my interview analysis, CTRL + F “TLDR”.

With how far we’ve come and only S7 & S8 left, 13 and 13, we’ve already seen what that means for the original intended arcs of S1(13ep technically), S2(6ep)+S3(7ep)+S4(6ep)+S5(7ep), and now S7 and S8 as two other arcs from what I could guess. Examining each plot arc, we see things grow in that organic way. We know that in S1, it establishes that Shiro and Keith already were friends and knew each other and were good friends, and oftentimes even the others EXPECT them to team up in pairs because they’re closer to each other than the others and Haggar voices this closeness later on in the last part of the second arc of Voltron.

Hunk:

Lance:

Pidge:

They’re inseparable even in the paladins minds from S1-2.

Thinking of S2-S6 puts Shiro and Keith’s friendship to the test. Keith’s Galra reveal, Shiro’s unconditional love for him and doesn’t change the fact that Keith is still his best friend, Keith mourning Shiro’s absence and searching for Shiro for months until he found his clone, and pushed the role of Black Paladin back to him because as far as he knew, this is the Shiro he knows from before that is still affected by his disease, and he doesn’t want to take away a single chance for Shiro to do what he loves, which is being a Paladin of Voltron, and even if it meant being away from him for a while. Keith took time for himself to recenter and to immerse himself amongst Galra, and some time with his mother which really helped complete the parts of his past that were missing but were vital to his identity. As someone who’s witnessed what happens to people who grow up without their parents or never meeting them - it’s a lot of psychological damage that can reflect on the individual’s behaviors if those gaps aren’t filled. Simultaneously, we now know that Shiro has been under pressure before between choosing what he needed to do for himself and his relationship which we speculated and in this interview (yes I’m getting to that!) was being compared to his previous relationship and he had to do what he needed to do with or without Adam’s support. But we know it might have been nice if Adam had chosen to do that. He hadn’t. In this case, Shiro did his best to support Keith’s decision, and didn’t want to stop him from doing what he needed to do while also reminding him that he and the team were there in case they were needed.

S4 contintinues more quietly, but we as an audience have felt weird about Shiro’s behaviour prior to Keith’s departure, his behavior being on edge, undermining Keith’s leadership he earlier wanted to encourage should something happen to him, and then we wondered if he was a clone, a sleeper agent, or both, which we suspected since s1 as a early possibility with Hunk’s thoughts on Shiro’s arm being connected to his brain similar to a USB of information feeding him his memories and so on. S5E3 he acts up and yells at Lance and then a clone, speculatively doesn’t appear because of lack of soul and only Shiro’s actual soul appears attempting to warn anyone who has a strong enough bond to hear him about the imposter, and the clone also deciding to not make decisions as a team but with him as leader when in s1e1 he consulted them as a team regardless of rank, it didn’t matter to him anymore undertaking the journey. I describe all this because even though Keith is his close friend, confidant even, he did not reach out to him so he wouldn’t distract Keith from what he needed. Keith at least knew something was gonna happen with the vision he had in Razor’s Edge, and confronted it very well in S6E4-5.

TLDR - S1: Keith and Shiro are friends S2, 3, 4, 5, 6: nothing will break that bond and will be stronger for what they’ve gone through together and apart.

Addressing the first set of answers to the first question: So knowing all this, planning early on (but not in the pitch) as mentioned for Shiro being the gay representation for the LGBT community, is really nice, really natural with the steps they’ve taken to make Pidge a girl and then Shiro being gay as addressed in that first question. It’s nice that they’re being careful about this without ruining future chances for representation for marginalized communities.

Regarding the second set of answers in regards to Shiro’s degenerative muscle disease: Shiro overcomes adversity despite all his perceived weaknesses and flaws - a respected leader, the champion, compassionate, a paladin of Voltron defending the universe. The other paladins only knew about Shiro via word of mouth, whereas Keith knew about his disease for a while and gave Shiro every chance to try anything. This fact added a layer to Shiro’s character as well as defining the fact that Shiro at one point shared this information with Keith who never outed him to the team in the entire course of the show and that’s helpful because it treats Shiro as the rest of the team even though he has his down times.

Looking at the third question, we look carefully at Shiro’s relationship with Adam. According to JDS, it felt like the last straw. LM basically described Shiro being a workaholic, doing what he loves in the time he has. They both wanted different things, and went their separate ways, which happens. People wanna do their jobs till the day they die, some people wanna do other things. As someone who’s observed Shiro’s character, I’d side with Shiro in the break up doing what he wanted to do, it’s his life after all, and he doesn’t want to feel fragile or babied. Adam was limiting in that respect while I personally observed his closed off body language, unwilling to budge anymore than he had in the past where he might have, and saying “You’ve already broken all the records there are to break.” I’m of the opinion that you can always improve and the biggest competitor you can have is yourself or someone that matches you extremely well and is able to grow with you. Either way, I don’t think either of them felt respected or heard, and when you’re communicating in a relationship and its not working out…it’s over. Communication is vital and it was lost here.

Fourth question…if you read my yammering before the Too Long Didn’t Read section, then you’ll pick this out even more, and this is where I’m seeing a lot of people panic and say the ship is dead when it really isn’t (it’s only dead if nobody is shipping it lol) and still has a possibility of becoming canon and you have to understand relationships to understand it or have been in at least one yourself, friendship and romantic one. JDS made it quite clear that the comparison of the relationships was intentional and different. Their friendship started at this stage of their lives where Shiro was likely in his first loving relationship with Adam but started to not work out and in Keith’s formative years that really shaped who he would later become because it meant to much to him. I’m sure with the way he acted, Keith was looked at like some charity case, the trouble kid, or the one that didn’t deserve what he got when it was good even though he worked hard for it. Shiro has this disease, is likely one of the best pilots but he worked hard for it and broke records for it and without a doubt there were peers jealous of his talent and hard work honing it. Shiro saw that in Keith and nurtured that strength that Keith had.

Here’s the part where you understand relationships. The example is look at yourself in your family relationships. Your relationship with your parents will be different than they are than with your friends or siblings, vice versa, and scrambled, but relationships are only ever between 2 people, even if certain groups of 3 or more work well together - 2 individuals will always vibe more strongly in some ways than others. Of course they’ll be different. They will also evolve so keep note of this. Shiro and Adam’s was loving and wonderfully healthy before things evolved into different directions and it didn’t work out and while it didn’t end well, it was handled in a typical adult manner. Shiro and Keith met as mentor and mentee and grew into friends that would somehow lead to Shiro bringing Keith to the launch site, a moment usually reserved for family or significant others, so at that point, Keith is a very close friend of Shiro.

Their relationship is already evolving…into something much deeper, echoing similar relationships to theirs that have either succeeded or failed and the steps they’ve taken in their friendship that has worked for them and made it stronger that others have taken notice. Shiro and Adam is a failed relationship because Adam no longer wanted to be there for Shiro, and chose to walk away because he couldn’t handle it, and not everybody can even if it’s frustrating for someone like Shiro, and I know how that feels because I have a chronic illness myself and get pity or hear whining that it’s so difficult to deal with. Keith has never once complained and does everything he can for Shiro to make sure he gets to do whatever he wants or needs to do and is happy to be there beside him to be a part of it.

Which is why I think this will work because Keith is so supportive and likes it when Adam did not, nor did he want to. Shiro was Keith’s hero in his time of need, so now Keith will always support and be Shiro’s hero in HIS time of need. We’ve seen a lot of action on Keith’s end of things, supporting Shiro, and sure, we know Shiro had done the same to bring Keith where he is, but every time that Keith has used the safe words “You’re like a brother to me/You’re my brother, I love you” Shiro has NEVER VOICED how he feels about Keith nor commented on it in any certain terms, but it does show in his actions that he cares a lot or shows concern for him, especially when he didn’t react until he heard “I love you”. My speculations for S7 or S8 for something to happen to Keith that might trigger this definition somehow, which is what I’m looking forward to because Shiro is very much a reserved person as much as Keith is at times and has only ever been vulnerable to him.

I hope this personal interpretation of mine helps somehow! I don’t think the ship is dead and to be funny I’d say “y’all weak”.

[josiesparklelove]

“Chaos in the Castle”

A Code: Realize fanfic.  CR!AU with @labyrinthofleah. 

Read more here for info on the AU. This is set after the original game.

Josie X Van Helsing

Life had been going great for the last few months. When they had received word from Leah that Victor had successfully created a detoxifying agent for her poison Delly just so happened to have a meeting in Steel London, so she, Delly, and Van were able to travel to see their old friends. Seeing everyone together again back at Saint Germain’s mansion brought back so much nostalgia, Josie could almost assume what happened since they departed the mansion had been a dream.

After thwarting Twilight and dealing with the agents of Idea, Delly had decided that he would unite the remaining Vampires and delegate with the humans to live peacefully alongside each other. Discussions were slow-going at first, but with the surprising backing of Queen Victoria and support of the new Marquis Renfield, they were slowly but surely gaining speed. Which meant that Delly, and his two guards were ever busy. Between the discussions with Humans, uniting the remaining Vampires who were in hiding, and rebuilding the Vampire castle, there was little time for anything else.

Josie had few moments alone to think about her personal life, or what poor excuse she could say for it. She and Van Helsing had already confessed their affection to each other and since they were both Delly’s guard meant they were usually never too far from each other. They trained together, ate together, travelled together, yet somehow never found much time alone. Josie quickly began to feel that perhaps whatever passion they had faded after the ordeal in London. Maybe he didn’t really love her as had once passed his lips. Though she knew it was likely her own fault.

If she had any flaw, and she was sure she had at least a few, she knew she was stubborn and often one-minded. She threw herself into her guard duties, which steadily began to include training of new recruits. Being the only remaining Royal Guard meant that she needed to train more. It got easier when they were able to bring more Vampires back to the castle. But that meant that what little personal time that she used to spend with Van even if it was few and far between became non-existent. She began to spend all her time in the barracks.

Eventually there were so many new recruits that Delly opted to leave her at the castle and took Van with him during some travels to Wales. She protested, of course, stating that her job as Royal Guard was to follow him but he and Van were able to convince her that leaving the castle in the hands of half-trained recruits poised more of a threat than a few dignitaries.

The morning of the departure Josie and her recruits saw the two off at the castle steps. She tried to stay as professional as possible, but for a brief moment, she made eye contact with Van Helsing as they passed. It was for less than a second but somehow held more of a punch than any attack she had taken during training. His blue eyes wavered for the briefest of moments before he tore them away and continued forward, helping Delly into the carriage. She wasn’t sure if he looked back after that as she willed herself to continue looking forward trying not to tremble.

They were gone for about ten days in total and during that time the castle was ever busy. New Vampires arrived almost daily through Delly’s continued outreach which left them scrambling to find housing, jobs, and resources for everyone. Thankfully while Delly was still around he had begun to delegate advisors who would be in charge of the day to day life around the castle. Secretaries, Tacticians, a Mayor - all who shared his vision of the growth and development of the Vampires to live peacefully with the humans. It had proved difficult at first, but the little King was definitely convincing - as expected as the son of the great King Delecroix.

But through the hustle and bustle of the castle life it seemed that the guard recruits were having a very tough time, that is with Josie. Ever since the young King’s departure she became ruthless, pushing the recruits harder and harder. So much so that it had escaped her thoughts when the castle had some new visitors.

Josie was in the training field putting the recruits through their drills when they all arrived. But the Vampire Knight was far too immersed to hear them call out to her.

“Oh no. I hope we didn’t come at a bad time.” Leah said with a sigh. A strong but gentle arm wrapped itself around her waist from Saint Germain who only tilted his head with a smile.

“Do not worry my dear, we sent word to young King Delacroix who said it was fine to visit. He and Van Helsing should be back within the day.” His calm voice soothed her.

A low whistle rang out nearby. “Wow, they’ve really done a lot to this place since the last time we were here.” Lupin said scanning the castle grounds.

“Well, last time we were here it was nearly in shambles, that was almost a year now if I’m not mistaken.” Victor replied. Suddenly a loud roar from the training field threw off their conversation as Josie cornered one of the recruits and then after a tense moment that even they could feel from their position, she sent the recruits away for their meal.

“I wonder what happened.” Leah said quietly.

“Seems our Knight friend is a bit tense.” Lupin replied.

And they were right, of course, as they approached. Josie remained in the field and began to clean up all of the training equipment grumbling to herself as she did so. She almost missed the group of footsteps entirely until one of them broke into a run. Instinctively she grabbed a nearby training sword and turned on the would-be attacker before she stopped stunned.  It was anyone’s guess as to who was more stunned, Josie or Impey who now had a dull blade inches away from his throat. Josie quickly lowered the weapon.

“Impey?” She asked quizzically.

“Y-Y-Yes my Knight in Shining Armor, I, the Great Impey Barbicane have come to sweep you off your feet!” He replied with a slightly frightened smile.

“Impey, I think she would be the one doing the sweeping. Plus I think our shot-gun wielding four-eyes would probably disagree, don’t you?” Lupin said as he tugged the frozen red-head away.

“Lupin… and everyone? What are-OOF!” She let out a noise of surprise as Leah nearly barrelled her over in a hug. Though she was still in her training armor, Leah had grown accustomed to it as she hugged her best friend.

“Josie! It’s so good to see you!” Leah said as she stepped back. Josie noted that she was not wearing her normal gloves which made her break into a small if not tired smile.

“And you all as well. I’m sorry, I was unaware of your visit. I would have come to greet you.”

“Ah, but that would have ruined the surprise.” Lupin added.

“Of nearly killing Impey?” She asked a small nod to the red-head who was now warily eyeing the remaining weapons. “Oh, but King Dele- umm. Delly and Van Helsing aren’t here now. I expect they should be-”

“We didn’t come just for them!” Leah cut her friend off. “We came to see you too.”

“Ah.” Josie replied a little softer, she could have easily waved off the small pink on her cheeks as exertion from training.

“So, how is life at the castle?” Victor asked.

“Busy. New refugees daily. And new recruits. Never thought I’d find myself as Captain of the Guard. It’s rewarding… but very tiring.” She admitted and returned the practice sword in her hand to a bin with the others.

“And how about with Van?” Lupin asked a small quirk to his smile.

“He’s been very diligent in attending to Delly.” Josie said with a shrug. “He-”

“What about to you?”

“Me? I need no protection.”

“No, I mean-”

“Are you eating well? Or resting?” Leah finally said after taking a peek at the large dark circles under her friends eyes.

“When I have time. Uh, which is to say…”

“Never.” Victor answered having seen her face as well.

“Well -” A smile nearly broke onto Josie’s face until she heard her name being called by a recruit behind her.

“Sir?” He asked nervously after seeing her surrounded by humans. “You’re needed in the mess hall, seems a fight has broken out.”

Whatever levity Josie had upon seeing her friends retreated as a low growl rumbled out of her chest. The recruit stiffened immediately behind her. “Sorry, duty calls.” Josie replied with a small bow.

“It’s quite alright, we will be here for a few days.” Saint Germain said trying to mediate between everyone.

“Yeah, you go give them what’s what. We’ll catch up after.” Lupin added.

“Sure.” Josie said and went off with the recruit.

“She seems… sad?” Leah finally said.

“Quite not her normal self, I would say.” Saint Germain added.

“I’m worried. But there’s nothing that we can do. Is there?” Victor questioned.

“We should talk to Van.” Impey said as he pondered to himself. Suddenly the others all perked up at the unexpected idea. Impey felt their gazes and turned to them. “What?”

“We could talk to Van.” Lupin repeated shocked.

“Y-Yes. Should we not? I didn’t leave my knight in shining armor to that four-eyes just so she could drift away like this.” Impey said with a bit of anger growing in his voice.

“Haha. Impey, there is a lot of things wrong with what you said, but we should definitely talk with the man of the hour.” Lupin replied and pat his friend on the back.

Several hours later, after receiving a tour from one of the King’s new secretaries the gang found themselves around the barracks when the secretary was called off momentarily to answer a question.

There they talked among themselves until they overheard a few of the recruits talking.

“What was up with the Captain today?”

“Yeah. She was even more intense than usual.”

“Hmph. She thinks she’s so tough. She still just a woman.” Replied a very large and formidable looking man. “Probably only reason she’s even a guard was because she hid during the attack. Just cause she’s a coward and suddenly she becomes Captain.”

After hearing such slander Leah nearly marched over until Saint Germain firmly gripped her arm. She turned in surprise but he held one finger in front of his lips to silence her. She took a moment to look at her other friends who bore the same silent rage as she did. They all knew the truth and knew that far from being weak, she was one of the strongest in the garrison before the attack, but she had been sent away at the time of the attack so by time she returned there was nothing she could do.

“Well, look she won’t be on her high-horse for much longer. I heard when the King returns there’s going to be a tournament to show off the new recruits. I say when the time comes we’ll challenge her to a fight and show her who’s tough.” The three men laughed loudly to themselves as they passed by Leah and her friends. Once they were out of earshot, Saint Germain let go of Leah’s arm.

“Why those idiotic-”

“Now now, my dear. There’s no use in running off to start a fight. I’m sure as tense as the political situation is now, it may seem an act of terrorism.” Saint Germain placated her as she continued steaming with anger.

“The situation doesn’t seem great, does it?” Victor added.

“Well, now makes more sense as to why Josie is so exhausted if she has to deal with opposition like this all the time.”

“Well, then why doesn’t she say something.”

“This is Josie we’re talking about. I’m sure she’s too stubborn to mention it to Delly or Van. Plus the castle doesn’t really have the luxury of being picky about recruits.”

“Well, we should at least tell her about their plan, shouldn’t we?” Leah asked worriedly.

“Absolutely. We shall do so when next we meet.”

However, that would prove more difficult than expected. The rest of the afternoon and evening anytime they were able to see Josie she was quickly called off to deal with one situation after another. Even during the meal time she found herself attending to some issue with the newly appointed mayor. Eventually it was night time and the castle began to wind down. The gang had been given their own rooms in the guest wing to sleep in so Leah had to remember the way back to the barracks from memory.

It took some doing, and a few times of hiding from a few patrolers that she made her way to the barracks. The captain’s room was easy enough to find, however, after knocking and entering she found that it was empty. Leah slipped from the room and began to walk quietly around the castle until she heard unmistakable sound of metal clashing. She sprinted towards the training field where she saw Josie, still dressed head to toe in her training armor sparring with one of the dummies.

A long sigh left Leah’s lips. Josie was always very diligent in her training, but this seemed like she was trying run away from something.

“It is quite hard to witness a friend be so upset.” A calm voice said quietly to her and Leah jumped slightly before recognizing Saint Germain.

“Isn’t there anything we can do for her?” Leah asked and tightly gripped his hand.

“We all have our demons to bare.” He replied and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “But we all know our little Vampire Knight is strong enough to face an army.”

“I’m not worried… er… not as worried about the tournament.” Leah said her eyes still trained on her friend.

“Ah, but there is only one person with that particular key. I would say he is the only one who can assist her there.”

“Yes. I suppose you’re right.” Leah said mournfully as she leaned her head on Saint Germain’s shoulder. After a moment more the two walked back to their room hand in hand sending up a silent prayer for the coming days.

The following day, the castle was even more busy if it were to be possible. King Delacroix was on his way back to the castle and the tournament would be held the next day. Josie was little more than a ghost as she passed through rooms answering questions and directing others on their tasks. She appeared very briefly to her friends at breakfast where Victor all but shoved a loaf of bread down her throat to eat. Note to self, Victor is frightening when the health of his friends is at stake.

And then it was time for the King’s arrival.  All of the castle inhabitants arrived at the gate to greet the young King. The mansion gang found themselves near the end of the little procession  across from Josie who was as stalwart as a suit of armor as the carriage pulled up. They first saw Van who exited and gave a quick scan of the crowd. Impey noted there had been quite a few girls screaming for his attention as he went to open the door.

Then Delly appeared, no this was King Delecroix II. Although it had not been very long since they had seen him, the young King had definitely changed as he greeted his people. As Van Helsing shut the carriage door he began to walk behind Delly as they approached the castle. Delly smiled at his growing number of people but his smile nearly tore through his face as he looked forward and saw his friends waiting for him. He raced down the remaining path finally expressing his age rather than his position.

“Lupin! Leah! Saint Germain! Victor!” He yelled as he approached at a fast pace.

“Eh?? Delly!? I think you forgot someone!” Impey wailed and Delly gave him the briefest of smiles as he greeted his friends.

“How have you been?! It’s great to see you.” Delly said excitedly.

“We’re good! It’s great to see you and -”

“Van! How’s it going my good man.” Lupin said as Van Helsing walked up.

“You’re loud as ever, Lupin.” He replied even as he shook the other man’s hand.

“Welcome back, Your Highness.” Josie said to Delly and he turned to her still smiling. “Everything is going well. Preparations are underway for the tournament tomorrow.”

“Great!” He said and then turned back to his friends. “Will you guys still be here for the tournament?” He asked.

Leah worriedly glanced to the others before Saint Germain interceded. “Certainly. We’ve heard lots of excitement about this little test of strength. We’re looking forward to it.”

“Excellent! Let’s-”

“Your Highness, a moment please.” One of the secretaries approached warily.

“Van Helsing, you are free to chat with our friends, I’ll catch up later.”

“Very well, Your Highness.” Van Helsing said with a small bow and Delly walked off with the secretary. Van Helsing stood directly in front of Josie but didn’t turn to face her and Josie made no attempt to look in his way before the mayor walked up to Van Helsing to ask a question. Josie walked off in the direction of Delly to accompany him.

“Little cold?” Lupin said quietly.

“More like frigid.” Victor replied.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Leah said and gripped the edges of her shirt.

“Perhaps this is just for public appearances, my dear. We shouldn’t assume their private time.” Saint Germain soothed her.

“My poor kni-- Van! Welcome back!” Impey said quickly changing his voice as Van Helsing walked back.

“Hiding something, Impey?”

“M-Me? No! N-Nothing!”

“Impey?” Van Helsing approached.

“You’re really not good at lying, Impey.” Victor sighed and put his hand over his face.

“Well, ol chap, let’s have a bit of lunch, and we’ll uh… fill you in.” Lupin said, placing a hand on Van Helsing’s shoulder.

“Ah, so that’s what’s going on.” Van Helsing sighed lightly in his cup as they all sat down at a table in the mess hall.

“We have been unable to inform Josie, however.” said Victor as he pushed around what was left of his meal on the plate.

“We were hoping you would be able to, Van Helsing.” Leah implored, her eyes locked towards Van Helsing who quickly averted his eyes.

“I’m not sure that’s the right decision.”

“What? But-”

“Ah, I see.” Saint Germain said thoughtfully. “Leadership is quite a burden at times.”

“I don’t follow.” Impey said scrunching his brows.

“Our precious little knight-” Lupin began before receiving a deathly glare from his side. “Er… well, we know how freakishly strong Josie is, because we’ve seen her in action, but to these recruits… “

“Oh.” Victor finally said placing the pieces together.

“But should we not alert her?” Leah finally asked, worry thick in her voice.

“I would be surprised if she did not already suspect it.” Saint Germain answered.

“She was always quite the perceptive one.” Victor added.

“Though with a somewhat curious taste in men.” Lupin said and chuckled as Van Helsing huffed his disapproval.

“To prove oneself on your own feet is quite the battle.” Saint Germain finally said, the seriousness of the situation bringing down the levity of Lupin’s joke.

“But she’s not alone - she has us… and Van?” Leah said and looked towards the man in question who sighed.

“She has moved out of our room. Into the barracks.”

“Ah. That’s rough.” Lupin consoled.

“Very Josie, though, if you ask me.” Victor added a sad smile on his features.

“Yes. She did not want to appear to have any softness in front of her men.” Van said as he unconsciously twisted his cup from side to side.

“Very Josie.” Leah added. “But are you two still, okay?”

Van Helsing paused for a moment before sighing. “I am hesitant to share in our personal lives, but it is very complex.”

“Van, even if you are my friend, if you hurt my knight in shining armor, I will swoop in and take her from you.” Impey said seriously.

“Impey, I doubt you’d be able to do that on many different ways, but we share in the sentiment.” Lupin replied.

“We are not fighting, if that is what you goons are trying to imply.”

“And when was the last time you spent any time together?” Victor asked. Van Helsing paused for a long moment thinking of the last few weeks. His silence spoke of the situation and Victor continued. “I’m not as familiar with Vampire anatomy, but she’s not eating near enough for as much as she is training. And it’s plainly obvious she’s not sleeping.”

“Yes. We happened to catch her training quite late in the evening alone last night.” Saint Germain added and everyone looked to him in amazement.

At that Van Helsing quickly stood up having heard more than enough to convince him. He had ignored the signs long enough under the assumption that she needed space to deal with her new position. “Let’s go.” He said and the rest of the group quickly stood as well.

They followed Van Helsing through the castle as he expertly navigated the maze-like halls. Inside of the throne room, they spied the familiar armor and just as Van Helsing went to call out to her he spied several of the recruits talking to her as Delly looked on from his throne.

“Your Highness, with the Tournament tomorrow, we think it would only be fair to showcase ALL of your guards, don’t you think?” The large recruit stated, the others crowded behind him, in an effort to hide from the young King’s questioning gaze.

“Speak plainly.” Delly announced.

“We think that instead of just the recruits, that Captain herself should be made to participate as well.” The recruit said and crossed his large arms over his chest.

Delly quirked an eyebrow and glanced from the haughty recruit to Josie who seemed unfazed as she stood at attention. “Well, Captain, what do you say?”

“I will do as you request, Your Highness.”

“In the past, these games were just for the recruits. What would the reasoning be to break the tradition?” Delly asked towards the man who after a moment of nervous whispering behind him replied.

“Your Highness, ever since the revival of the Vampire Royal Guard there has been no clear chain of leadership as we continue to grow our ranks. The Captain has been appointed to her position not due to her strength but due to her close position at your side. We only meant for this to be a true show of strength.” His voice grew stronger the more he talked confidence building slowly.

“Hmm.” Delly said in thought, tapping his chin. Van Helsing noted it was a gesture he had picked up from his late Father any time he was lost in thought. “Fine. Josie, you will participate in the Tournament as well.”

“As you wish.” Josie stated and quickly bowed her head. The recruits quietly snickered to themselves in apparent victory in convincing the King. They quickly left and Josie followed them towards the barracks.

“Delly!” Leah called out as soon as they were all alone.

“Oh, you made it. The throne room’s nice, right?” He said with pride looking around.

“Decorations aside, are you sure that it’s okay… about Josie I mean?” Victor asked worriedly.

“Hm? Well, she is a royal Knight. I would hope that she could hold her own against recruits.” He said and glanced towards where the guards had left.

“But those guys looked trained.” Leah whispered.

“Former mercenaries, I would wager.” Saint Germain added.

“Not that I don’t trust our Knight, but…” Impey trailed off.

“This is quite an undertaking.” Victor finished.

Van Helsing dashed off towards the barracks. When he arrived he saw the earlier group of recruits sitting around drinking alcohol. He thought to stomp over right then, but as he approached he heard his name and he hid behind a nearby wall.

“Did you see Van Helsing in the throne room?”

“Yeah. He didn’t look as scary as I heard of the famous Vampire Hunter.”

“Shhhh. Don’t say that he’s certainly a lot stronger than you.”

“Yeah. And I heard that he and the Captain are together.”

“Hmph. So she’s not just a scavenger but sleeps her way to the top as well.”

The men all let out loud barks of laughter. Van Helsing felt his hands curl into fists as he thought to rush in and murder the men just for good measure. But stopped as he saw Josie walk into the room.

“Time for training. To the field.” She said flatly, and the men didn’t move. The largest actually dared to lean backwards his intention clear.

“If you come over here and use your knees I might think about it, sweetheart.” He finally said. And Josie remained calm, which did not apply to Van Helsing who was nearly fuming.

“Until after the Tournament I am still your superior officer. Get your asses to the field before I terminate you all and blacklist you from the kingdom.” She said, her blue eyes cold as she looked to the men.

The largest man sighed and rolled his eyes before standing up. The others followed.  “And after the tournament, I’ll make sure to see you on your knees in front of me. If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll let you stay.”

The men laughed as they exited the room. Josie watched them leave until it was silent.

“Have a habit of eavesdropping?” She asked. Van Helsing knew better than to continue to hide as he stepped out of his spot.

“Not exactly. Your perception is strong as ever.”

“Well, you still smell like a human. Can’t really sneak up very easily.”

“Those guys didn’t seem to notice.” He said and gestured towards where the men were sitting.

“Hm. Maybe I’m just tuned to your smell, then.” She said and finally let out a sigh of relief as she walked over and began to pick up the trash they left and tossed it into the bin.

“I am surprised those three are still standing, though.” He began to help her straightened up.

“You heard that much, then? It’s nothing new.” She let out a self-deprecating laugh as she set up the cushions.

“Nothing new? You’ve heard what they’ve been talking of about you?” Van Helsing stopped, he was less than a meter away from her.

“Of course. They’re idiots, not very subtle. Plus, it comes with the territory, I’ve heard.” She looked up to where he was stopped and gave a tired smile. “Welcome back.”

He couldn’t take it any longer and reached out to her and pulled her into his arms. Thankfully she had changed into her training gear. Leather armor meant for the dulled weapons and he hugged her close.

“Josie, I’m home.” He said quietly. She hugged him back taking in the scent of her beloved before lightly pushing him away.

“Training. Gotta get out there. Especially…”

“The tournament.” Van Helsing finished and Josie let out a huff.

“You heard that as well. Yes. The tournament.”

“You’re not worried?”

“About those goons? No. They couldn’t fight their way out of a burlap sack.”

“It is foolish to tell you, but be careful. You don’t know what they could be planning.”

“Of course. Do tell our friends not to cause too much ruckus.”

“But they can cause some?”

“Well, they are our friends.”

Van Helsing let out a small chuckle of laughter before he leaned down and pecked at Josie’s lips. She returned a small smile before she walked out towards the training field. He watched her go before returning back to their friends.  

He found them in the courtyard outside of the throne room and walked up to the group.

“Van!” Impey said and ran up to him. “How did it go?! Did you find her? We didn’t hear any gunshots.” He asked.

“Judging by the look on his face he did indeed find Miss Josie.” Saint Germain said his own smile wickedly crossing his smooth face.

“You’re right. He’s practically glowing.” Lupin said adding fuel to the flame.

“YOU TRAITOR!” Impey said curling his hands into fists around Van Helsing’s jacket lapels.

“What traitor? I don’t recall her belonging to you.” He grunted pushing the red-head off of him. “And you two, I’m not sure of your ideals of my skills, but even I would be hard pressed for anything in the span of two minutes.”

“N-Now-Now! We still have a child present!” Victor wailed and Leah had long since covered the young King’s ears.

“At any rate, Josie will be fine.”

“As expected.” Delly huffed shaking free of Leah’s hands. Though their relationship was normally of master and servant, which Josie was mainly the one perpetuating, Delly was very thankful for his own personal Royal Knight. He knew more than anyone perhaps even Van Helsing of how strong she was. He knew of her even before the destruction of his clan. She had fought through every recruit in the castle and was the youngest ever promoted to Royal Knights despite her gender. So when the challenge to face her he knew she would be more than prepared to answer it. He knew just as she did that her position would be questioned in time and that she would need to prove herself to the new recruits.

And so now the time has arrived. It was later in the evening after Josie put the recruits through one final training exercise before they are dismissed to go through the schedule of the following day’s tournament. Josie stayed behind and leisurely went through her own drills. The sound of approaching footsteps and she gently set down her practice sword.

“Fancy a time for a break?” Saint Germain broke the silence and Josie turned to see the whole of her friends standing, Leah holding a basket.

Josie looked back to the stack of weapons next to her and heaved a sigh. “Alright. I can take time for a break.” As she turned back each of her friends were smiling gently towards her, knowing she weak to go against them all. Impey ran over and laid out a large blanket for them all to sit at, trying his best to sit close to her until Lupin had to pull him away so Van could sit.

Leah placed out all of the dishes in front of Josie, with a quick glance up Josie silently understood they had all had dinner already. This was just for her. Though there was enough tea to go around as they all shared in the drinks and a few deserts that they managed to scrounge up from the castle.

There was no talk about the tournament or of the troubles they all knew she was facing. It was just a nice meal shared with her friends reminiscing and sharing stories. The evening waned on and eventually it was past time to turn in for the evening. Saint Germain lead the others back to the Guest Wing of the castle as Josie and Van walked back towards the barracks. Van’s room and where they both had stayed until Josie moved out was in the Main Wing of the castle. Not quite as stately as the royal wing, but large enough for small families to live comfortably. But Josie needed to stay in the barracks for now until they had more ranks to delegate duties.

As Van dropped her off at the Captain’s room she quietly grabbed his hand and pulled him inside before latching the door closed. The evening was spent quietly as they slept in each other’s arms. The following morning as Van Helsing left the barracks, he made eye contact with one of the opposing recruits who started at him with wide eyes. Van Helsing was sure to send him the most threatening glare he could muster as he passed by. Pleased when he heard a small shriek behind him as the recruit went running off towards his buddies.

The castle and it’s small surrounding town were all abuzz with the tournament, setting up stalls and chairs surrounding the Training Field for the event. Delly looked on from his platform with mirth in his eyes at his growing number of people. Happy that his dream of bringing his people together was steadily becoming a reality. The tournament a small reminder of days past and the promise of the future.

With a small introduction, the Tournament was underway with a few demonstrations of strength and agility. Though there were not as many recruits as in past tournaments, the quality was strong. Through Josie’s training the current recruits were not to be taken lightly. However, as the games began it was clear that Josie still had much to teach her recruits showing them up in each of the games.

But she remained humble in her winnings, which spurred her the opposing recruits even further. It was Van Helsing and Delly who took pride in her victories. However Lupin took note that after one particular loss the large opposing recruit was seen conspiring with his friends. He slipped away from the others and came back some time later with a suspicious looking smile.

Eventually it was time for the final event. A ranked one on one fight to the end. ‘End’ and not death since this was merely a tournament of show. But something kept prickling at the back of Van Helsing’s mind. Mainly the opposing recruits looking more and more hackled as the events of the day went on.

“You’re doing great, Josie!” Leah exclaimed as Josie walked towards where her group of friends was seated.

“As expected of my Chivalrous Knight!” Impey yelled attempting a hug before he was yanked back by his collar by Lupin.

“Are we supposed to give you a type of favor to place upon your lance?” Lupin joked and Josie rolled her eyes.

“Human traditions, I’m afraid.” Josie replied a small smile on her face.

“Ah, and I’m sure the one who would bestow said favor would be Van Helsing, not us.” Saint Germain teased in his own way.

“How are you holding up?” Victor asked and the rest of the friends all glanced at her looking for the answer.

“Just fine, doc.” Josie replied tightening the straps on one of her pauldrons. “It has been a little while since I was put into my paces. Nice to stretch my wings, I guess.”

“Well, be careful. Though I don’t think you need it.”

“Yes, but one needed not become complacent. Cornered rats are known to strike back.” Saint Germain said, a wary glance towards the opposing recruits.

“Hmm.” Lupin said thoughtfully earning the glance of Josie who ignored it but continued looking forward.

“I plan to put my every effort into the battle as I always have in order to protect my Master.” Josie said simply and suddenly loud wailing was heard as Impey cried out.

“MY JOSIE IS SO STRONG AND CHIVALROUS! A GODDESS! SO LOVELY!” His wailing alerted others around them and soon he heard the click of a shotgun behind him. “V-V-Van! N-No Need to bring that out is there? At such a grand event?”

“You are disturbing others, let alone me.” He said with a non threatening glare. Eventually his eyes met Josie and his blue eyes softened for a moment as he silently conversed his thoughts to her.

The silence was cut off by Victor. “Errm. I don’t mean to intercede, but you’re being called Josie.” Van Helsing quickly threw an annoyed glance to Victor who tried not to shrink and Josie raised her hands.

“Alright. I’ll be off. See you after the tournament.” She waved to her friends who rang out their well-wishes to the gallant knight.

The final tournament was a great show of power and speed, none of the recruits giving an inch. Even against the Captain, most of her men faced her head-on. She easily made it to the final round showing little exertion on her part, but she remained humble and thanked each of her opponents, giving them words of wisdom to improve in their next fight. Van looked to the scene with a great amount of pride pouring through his veins as he attempted to hide a smile that threatened his face. He was still very wary of the opposition, as unsurprisingly the largest recruit made it into the final round as well.

Eventually it was time for the final battle, the assembled crowd was buzzing with energy as the two entered the training area. The large man whooped and hollered trying to gain the attention of the crowd as Josie walked forward and inspected her training sword. The rules were simple, it was a fight to the end, but not to death. They were to use only training weapons but most else was permissible.

And so the fight began. Leah was already wringing her hands in excitement as she had been doing during each of Josie’s trials. Saint Germain gently placed his hands over hers which soothed her slightly. Surprisingly Victor and Impey proved to be the loudest supporters much to the amusement of Lupin. Though he could not show favor, Delly also hoped for Josie’s victory.

And it was there in the training field that the man decided he would fight not with his swords but with verbal threats.

“So, Captain. Or should I call you Coward.” He began and he circled Josie, making sure his voice was loud enough for the crowd to hear. “The great Vampire Knights of the Kingdom, and you’re all that left? Pathetic. Your kinsmen died in battle, and you? You were gone. How convenient.” He spat.

Josie just watched him carefully. Her hands gripping her training sword ready to attack.

“And why wouldn’t you be? Probably tipped off by your lover - Abraham Van Helsing.” He announced and pointed towards where the man in question stood near Delly.

“Probably seduced him to save yourself? To be in league with a human. A human who murdered your clan. How can you live with yourself?” He spat again.  Saint Germain had a firm hold on Leah who was nearing to run down herself. Victor noted Van Helsing grip his fists tighter.

“A Coward and a Whore. And you think you can be Captain of the Royal Knights? To be beside King Delecroix? Don’t make me laugh.” He basked in his undeserved confidence still circling around her like a snake.

“And your little show today? Nothing more than that, a show. We all know who you are in leagues with. Victor Frankenstein. Lupin Arsene. All of your victories could be easily explained through trickery and cheating. But what else could be expected of a Coward?” The man’s words finally finished and Josie could hear murmuring around her. Leah soon gripped Saint Germains hands she she began to fret over the crowd’s reaction.

Everyone was waiting for Josie’s reaction when she finally spoke up.

“Your Highness.” She said loudly, though with how invested the crow was she didn’t need to yell loudly. “I have a request of this final fight.”

A small smile crossed Delly’s face and he spoke aloud. “Speak, then.”

“I request, Your Highness to have a bare hands match - no weapons, no armor to show a test our strength.”

A collective gasp left the audience. From pure appearances Josie was at a clear disadvantage. The man was easily double her size even not in the Knight’s armor.

“Request accepted.” Delly announced and the crowd murmured their amazement. From his side Van Helsing shared in the young King’s smile.

The large man let out a loud bark of laughter. “I knew you were stupid but didn’t know you were insane!”

“And why not? You doubt my skill in battle. Suspect me of trickery. I find this to be the best way to prove myself without a shadow of a doubt.” She replied and began to peel off the training armor leaving her looking even smaller in comparison. Van Helsing was sure that if it came down to it, she would threaten to fight naked if it would prove her point any better. But thankfully the man accepted.

Seeing the two together now in the field side by side anyone would be expected to assume the man would be the victor. Even for a brief moment, the thought passed through her friends minds. But as the horn blew to announce the beginning of the fight, the man stumbled backwards momentarily as before the final vibration even left the horn she was already in front of him, her arm extended towards his throat. She stopped mere inches away and smiled as he jumped away.

From the stands Saint Germain chuckled. “Ah, the poor man has dug his own grave I’m afraid.”

“Yup. Poor sod.” Lupin added leaning back in his seat.

“As strong as Josie is, which would easily put him to shame, her speed is-” Victor continued.

“Out of this world.” Impey completed.

“That guys dead.” Leah added simply and the entire group smiled.

Once the man backed away to what he assumed would be a safe distance, in the blink of an eye she was upon him again, this time her hand extended to his face, she quickly tapped his forehead - to be cheeky, Van assumed. The man jumped back. Josie teased the man a few more times eventually she found herself circling the man as he had done before.

“Ladies and Gentlemen.” Josie announced to the crowd. “While it is true, I was not here at the time of raid of my clansmen, I had been sent previously through instructions by the late King. The missives of this mission remain in the Royal journals for any who doubt my words. I have regretted not being there for my kinsmen every day since, but have found refuge in assisting my King in his efforts to rebuild for our people.”

As she spoke the man attempted to run up on her, but she easily dodged his attack.

“Regarding the rumors of my personal relationship, yes. I am betrothed to Abraham Van Helsing.” Her revelation brought a loud buzzing through the crowd, all eyes suddenly towards Van Helsing who looked on with a blank face.

“Did she say ‘Betrothed’?” Victor quietly asked.

“Van didn’t say anything about that.” Lupin added.

“MY JOSIE!” Impey wailed, loud enough that even Josie heard and rolled her eyes.

“However, this has only been a recent relationship, as we would be better called enemies before the time of the raid.” Josie continued and as attention slowly trickled away from him, Van Helsing let out a sigh as he shook his head at the scene which spoke so highly of Josie’s antics.

The man in the field summoned his strength again and lunged at Josie who evaded his reach and as he rushed by and grabbed his arm. In a flash she roughly threw the large man over her shoulder and dropped him to the ground in front of her.

“As for my strength, you’ll see, it was well deserved. Having proved myself to much stronger foes than you could hope to be.”

He lunged for a final time, yelling as a way to pour every ounce he had into a final attack. She quickly ran up to him and thrust her arm up into his chin throwing him off balance. She delivered a blow to him stomach sending him several meters backwards. Josie for what it’s worth showed no sign of exertion before she calmly walked up to the man who’s knees were shaking as he stood.

As she approached he fell down to his knees. Josie set her hand on his shoulder and the horn blew signaling the end of the fight. Then she leaned down and spoke where only they could hear. “How does it feel on your knees before me? Cross me again and I shall make sure even groveling would seem a mercy.” A flash of blue crossed her cold eyes before she smiled and walked off the crowd’s cheers drowning out everything else.

Leah and her friends were the first on the field to congratulate Josie, Delly and Van Helsing were close behind, Delly holding the ceremonial medal to award her. But they all knew the award was never her true intention and Delly only smiled widely as he approached his friend and Royal Knight.

Van Helsing allowed their friends the moment to praise her not wanting to spoil their moment. Until he had too much of Impey hugging her. He quickly approached and unlike their friends who each gave a hug, he pulled her close and in front of the entire crowd covered her lips with his and dipped her to the side. A ruckus of cat calling came from their friends and several of Josie’s recruits as the Captain herself was wide eyes with shock.

After making sure to really sell it, Van Helsing eventually let her go - a chorus of crying from his resident fan girls and even louder still, Impey - He felt satisfied in his bold declaration. The revelries continued throughout the evening as Delly invited his continuants for a meal at the castle for the victor’s behalf the following day.

Back at the castle, as guests eventually left after congratulating Josie and offering their well wishes to the new couple Josie found herself spread out on the ground of the throne room.

“You can’t possibly be tired after this.” Van Helsing said a smile on his face as he approached.

“Hah. So you say. But I would easily rather face a hundred, no thousand men in battle then deal with crowds of happy people.” She replied and took the hand that Van Helsing offered to pull her off of the floor.

“It was quite a show you put on today.” He said as he pulled her up into his embrace.

“Really? I personally found it lacking after yours.” She teased.

“Well, couldn’t have anyone doubting your words, could I, dear wife.” Van Helsing added and hugged her even tighter. He chuckled at the pink that was steadily growing on her cheeks.

“I take it, you heard that then?” She asked knowing the answer.

“Every word.”

“Damn your superhuman hearing.” She fake pouted.

“Which leaves me no choice to to ask for the answer then.”

“To what question?”

Van Helsing gently dropped to one knee and held out a small box towards her. “To be fair, I had been planning to ask for some time now, but you were never the patient one. So. What do you say?”

“Of course, I’ll marry you Abraham Van Helsing. Someone’s gotta watch your back.”

“And I plan to do to same for you for the rest of our lives.”

“Until death do us part?”

“As if death could keep me from you.” The two blondes smiled one final time before connecting in passionate kiss.

Though it was cut short as a loud sniffle behind them alerted them to their audience. Impey quickly wiped at his tears.

“Finally you saw us.” Lupin announced. “Can we come over and congratulate you already?!” He said but Leah was already racing towards them.

“Congrats Josie!!” She wailed and hugged her friend’s neck pulling her down. The men all surrounded Van Helsing shaking his hand and patting his back at a job well done. Delly for what it’s worth also gave his well wishes stating that they could take a few days off if they wanted.

Josie shrugged at the thought. “I’ve got far too much work to-do with the guard, though I guess I will have a little less opposition after today.

“Actually, you had quite a few more recruits sign up.” Delly said a big smile on his face. “To be expected of my Royal Knight.” He said with pride.

Delly however, ordered that  Josie and Van take a few days to themselves to rest and visit with their friends before they left. She ended up moving her things back to Van’s apartment. Leah was more than happy to help her pick out some fabrics. As the trip came to a close, Josie, Van and Delly were a little sad to see them off. Though not without a final hug from Impey which went on for longer than Van liked and he ended up pulling out his shotguns threatening the man molesting his wife.

They all laughed at his possessiveness. But they were happy knowing that they would be just fine together. The Vampire Knight and her husband.

[wizardsnwookies]

Blog 071918 - Lessons Learned

This coming Monday will be the last session in the first adventure in the Protected Realm campaign setting, and with it -- what I consider at least -- my first real experience as a DM. Yes I’ve run games before, but this is the first time where I really threw everything I had into it. I chose a module for this so that I can really focus on the immersion I wanted to create, as well as my execution of game mechanics and role playing for the players. Overall, I am happy with how it turned out, but I do have room for improvement.

So what did I take away from the experience? What lessons did I feel like I learned? What do I feel I need to work on for future games?

1. The DM “screen.” - I used multiple windows and tabs when running this game through roll 20. At any given time I had Roll20, the campaign module, and the 5e conversion notes open and free to access. However, I still felt like I was scrambling to keep up. As much as I wanted to be mindful of the environment, I do wonder if having a hard copy of the my notes would be more helpful as opposed to trying to scroll through a PDF. Especially when it comes to maps. Sadly, I only thought to put the key numbers on ONE of my maps...which was a big boner on my part.

2. I love flavor, perhaps too much. - I really wanted to give an immersive feel for my game, give the players something to picture in their mind. Something they can feel and smell. While this is a good thing, I wonder if I got too carried away with it, sometimes repeating myself or just plain bogging down the game by describing what a room smells like. It’s a tough balance that I need to fine tune.

3. LORE HELPS. - I was worried I put too much work into the background of my campaign, but once I started running I was damn glad to have it. Little things like cursing or exclaimations taking the worlds’ gods names in vain help make things a little more real. It also helped with motivations and business for NPCs. I can only see this becoming a more and more valuable tool the more I run in this world.

4. Check everything. - I was super bummed when I didn’t bother to check all the loot items in the module and accidentally gave away that one of the artifacts they recieved was a super fun old school cursed item. I LOVE cursed items, they are a fun way to keep people on their toes. It would have been fun to see them use it during a battle and have to deal with the consequences. Especially since I’ve been careful to make them examine any magic item they get as opposed to telling them they got a +1 shortsword off the bat. I just tell them, “this item gives off a warm tingling sensation.” It’s just a lot to juggle, and I took it for granted. Oh well, next time.

5. Don’t be afraid of making anyone upset. - This is a big one, as I have a real self esteem issue and tend to worry too much about how people think of me. I don’t like myself very much so I’m obsessed with making sure others like me. Because of this, it’s difficult for me to not pull punches as a DM. I’m not saying I’m a sadistic asshole who’s out to play their characters, but I should be making my decisions based on the logic of the game and NPC motivations as opposed to whether or not one of my players will be pissed because they got poisoned. If they make a mistake, that’s on them. If a Troglodyte has an opening, it will take it. This is isn’t personal, it’s just a game.

6. Keep combat interesting. - Nothing is more boring to me than combat where everyone stays put and spams their most powerful attack until stuff dies. That’s a very efficient way to play a video game, but not role playing. I felt like I fell too easily into this trap and found myself pulling myself out of it by taking drastic or sudden actions that came out of nowhere. It wasn’t until the end with the Naga fight that I felt like I was really feeling like I was getting into the head of the NPC and fighting logically within their world and motivations. I need to do this more, not just when I run, but when I play as well.

7. The money problem. - Gold in 5e is kind of broken. You get an ass-ton of it, but there’s not as much to spend it on as there are no mechanics for buying magic items. I’m trying to help fix this by being strict on encumberment as I can --although I need to be better about it as I frequently fall pray to #5 when I try to enforce it-- but that only goes so far. Also, when your group has been used to greedily hoarding every coin over several previous editions worth of D&D games, old habits die hard. I still haven’t really come up with a good solution. I’m toying around with the idea of a tax and banking system, but haven’t landed on something solid yet.

8. You’re never as bad as you think you are. - I’ve had sessions where I really felt like shit afterwards and asked our most senior DM for advice on how it went, only to hear that I really wasn’t that bad. This might be due to aforementioned insecurities, but I also think it’s a good rule of thumb. Things that you notice, little flubs or mistakes, are almost never noticed by the players.

Buy Me a Coffee

[shadowsfiguresfigments-blog]

A good place to die Chapter 8 (Light fluff)

Warning: Harsh language, violence

I jolted up, heart pounding and light sweat covering my whole body. It took me several seconds to understand who I was, where I was and what had happened. I was lying somewhere warm and cozy, but my surroundings weren’t covered with silk. My ribs hurt like hell, which was probably what had caused me to wake up in the first place. After another second of thought I understood that I was in my own bed.

“Penny?” I whispered tentatively, but I received no answer.

The last thing I remembered was resting my head back against his chest, exhausted from all the reading. When I was done with another five Poe stories Pennywise handed me one of my textbook, and I spent nearly two hours reading to him about human biology, Greek philosophers and the history of Derry. Particularly the last one made him laugh quite a lot, his cackle echoing through the cavern so long that I had to wait for him to calm down before I could continue. My throat had gone dry and my voice became raspy.

“Relax, little one”, he had purred into my ear, and I did. Apparently I had fallen asleep rather quickly after that.

Now I was home, and I couldn’t remember how I had gotten here. I stretched out my good arm, fumbling around for the light switch and accidentally knocked over the glass of water that stood next to the lamp. I was pretty sure there hadn’t been one there when I left the house. Finally I found the switch, and light was so bright it temporarily blinded me. When I was able to see again I noticed the two red balloons floating around my room. One read ‘I love Derry’, which made me smile for the absurdity. No one here would have actually believed it to be true.

Well, me maybe, but only as of late.

I got up (boy, that HURT!) and went downstairs into the kitchen. I left the glass where it had landed on the floor. Picking it up would have hurt too much. When I filled another glass with water I noticed the note stuck to the fridge.

“We’re one hand short, so I’ll have to do the late shift too. Don’t wait for me.”

I was relieved. At least I wouldn’t have to explain how I mysteriously had gotten into my room.

I took my medicine and splashed my face with some water.

Just about when I was going to go back to bed the phone shrilled. Cursing under my breath I picked it up.

It was the Derry police, informing me that Mr. Shanks had been murdered in his shop. Apparently he had surprised burglars and a fight had ensued. Since I was the only one somehow connected to him they informed me of his passing. They wanted to ask me some questions about my whereabouts this night (uh-oh), and told me to be there tomorrow as soon as I could.

Feeling a little sad as well as annoyed I hung up, when auntie entered the kitchen.

“Who was that?”

She looked incredibly tired and older than she actually was. I knew her job stressed her out, and the worry about me probably too, but it was the first time I actually understood what it did to her. I reluctantly told her about the call, and she offered to accompany me to the hearing. After all, according to law, I was still a minor. I looked at her, chin stubbornly thrust forward at the thought of me being accused of some crime, brow furrowed with worry, her eyes tired and red-rimmed, and felt a sudden rush of affection for her. I hugged her gently, trying not to increase my physical discomfort anymore than necessary, and went back to bed. What was wrong with me, being so emotional all the time?

The hearing was more of a joke, fortunately. Mr. Shanks had been bludgeoned, and I was clearly in no condition to do so. Also, during the time the crime was committed auntie had returned home and peeked into my room to see if I was still awake, but “she was snoring so loud she could have woken the dead.” The only reason I was questioned in the first place was because they had no other person to speak too, and of course my fingerprints were everywhere. They had not yet found a testament, nor did they know of any living relatives, but the detective promised to contact me as soon as any new clue turned up.

I highly doubted that they’d find anything. That part of Derry was known for being dangerous after nightfall, and if the crimes that took place daily were even reported, they almost never got solved.

Auntie had to go back to work, but she offered to drop me off near the barrens. I had told her I was working on a biology project about the local flora, and despite her not liking me going on a hike school came first. I waved her good-bye, then started my descent down the slope that would bring me to the banks of the Kenduskeag, which I could follow to the entry to the sewers. It wasn’t an area of the barrens I was too familiar with, so this seemed like the best option.

It was a beautiful day, sunny, but the first cold of October was already lingering in the air. The leaves around me had turned brown, I noticed absently, and the air bore the faint scent of winter – the scent you could have never described, more of an idea of a scent, but an indicator for the end of the year nonetheless. So immersed in my musings was I that I didn’t notice the group of people before I stood right before them. It wasn’t Yaneesha – thankfully – but one of her girlfriends and a couple of boys with a rather colorful reputation. They were smoking something that clearly wasn’t weed nor anything else I was familiar with, and had built a tower of empty beer cans. One of the boys was currently aiming at them with a pistol. He stood there confidently, legs spread apart, and fired rapidly at the cans.

He hit them all.

I tried to retreat into the bushes I had just broken through, but they group had already noticed me.

“Hey, isn’t that the hoe that fucks you for a dime?”, one of the boys asked, his face sporting an unpleasant sneer.

“I wouldn’t touch you with a stick if somebody paid me a million”, I shot back, not thinking.

Their mouths fell open in surprise – I’d never talked back before.

“You take that back, cunt”, the girl yelled, her eyes going crazy.

“Sure. I’d not touch any of you for a billion.”

The group stood up collectively, and the guy with the gun started grinning maliciously.

“Hey, Denny, you better be careful. After all she killed poor ol’ Shanks to get to his hidden millions. Don’t cross her, she’s real tough. Doncha know she only watches horror movies? She gets off of pain.”

They started walking towards me, forming a semi circle. The gun was still pointing to the ground. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a small red bird settling in one of the bushes.

“Speak for yourself, idiot. I bet you need that gun to even feel like you have a dick, right? Better not tell your Daddy about that, though. He might give you the belt again.”

I laughed, no idea what I was saying or where all the nasty things were coming from – normally I’d just turn around and walk away. But not today. Today was different. Maybe I was high from the painkillers, or maybe it had something to do with my growing range of emotions.

The boys face turned a ghastly shade of pale, and he pointed the gun at me.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” His voice broke, and his buddies looked at him uneasy. “Ey, Shot, maybe put that down, it’s not like she’s worth it…”

He fired.

I felt something whizz past my face, and laughed as I could hear the bullet hitting a tree behind me.

“You missed!”, I teased him.

His buddies backed away, and the girl tried to pull his arm down.

“Let’s go, Shot, please. She’s crazy…”

He took aim again, pointing the gun straight at my face.

“Die, bitch!”

The gun boomed, and he screamed.

Again something whizzed past me, but more importantly, a huge gator was chomping down on Shots hand. The entire group screamed, a choir of fear, and the gator vanished. In its place stood a giant spider, clicking its jaws and raising on its two back pairs of legs, ready to strike.

They scrambled as fast as they could, Shot clutching the maimed remains of his hand. Within seconds they had vanished, only their shouts and cries echoing in the distance. The gun was gone, and Shots father would probably do some nasty shit to him – I actually felt bad for him.

Still, I grinned with joy as I hugged the spiders’ hairy legs , each of them the diameter of my waist.

“Hey, Penny.”

Before my eyes the spider melted into my favorite clown. He was grinning widely, his buck teeth shining brightly, and drool flying everywhere as he laughed loudly.

“Thanks for bringing me home yesterday! I’m sorry I fell asleep…”

He didn’t let me finish, bowing down to my eye level, pressing a gloved hand against my lips. His eyes glowed brightly blue, making the autumn sky look pale by comparison. “I liked that a lot”, he purred. My heart skipped a beat, making me clutch my chest in surprise.

“Let’s make you comfortable.” He scooped me up once again, and carried me into the sewers.

But this time, we didn’t go to the cavern. I only realized where we had arrived when the tunnel opened into a bottomless pit. With on big lunge Pennywise jumped up the walls before us and lifted us both over the top with just one hand. Then he carried me through the dark corridor, up the stairs and into one of the rooms I hadn’t entered before. (Never mind my head swiping off all the cobwebs and dust that had gathered.) He gingerly lowered me unto the biggest bean bag I had ever seen. It was white with a beautiful pattern of red stripes and smelled of food… Candy canes, cotton candy and sweet popcorn, actually. And it looked brand new. I almost disappeared into the bean bag, until Pennywise sat next to me and made me rise from the wafts of sweet delight.

He pulled me against his chest excitedly, rummaging through my bag already.

“So, what are we going to read today?” He pulled out some books at random and handed them to me, all anticipation.

So Pennywise learned about mechanics and vector calculations. That didn’t seem to interest him too much, and after a while he interrupted me all of a sudden.

“You were late today.” His voice sounded almost… pouty?

I told him about the murder, the police and my job. The concept of police work and money seemed peculiar to him, and so we spent the rest of the day talking about crimes and what humans do to solve them. It was the weirdest conversations I had so far (that actually said a lot, right?) and the clown laughed at all the wrong parts, which in turn made me chuckle every now and then. He seemed to enjoy that, and I had to admit, I did too.

The word ‘friendship’ crossed my mind.

When I told him about DNA, fingerprints and forensic evidence he became a little less exuberant, puzzling at the lengths we would go to punish wrongdoers. “And that actually works for you?”

I shook my head.

“Not all the time. Especially not in Derry.” I shot him a suspicious look. “But I guess you know that.” He grinned at me, then stretched himself out.

“You are funny little creatures.”

“Well, so are you, to me… Except for the small part.” He chuckled, but then became very serious within a heartbeat.

“Only to you, little girl.”

I lay my hand against his cheeks, feeling the texture of his skin properly for the first time.

“I like that.”

[stormcrow-whispers]

Meeting Idris

Of all the things she had expected when coming to meet the infamous Idris Vallura, this was not one of them.

She would have readily accepted an elevator that moved them up and down floors, after all with how small the building was it would have make sense to have such an apparatus installed to get them to the higher levels, and gnomes were incredibly clever–they’d made the trolleys and lamps in town after all.

But a transport to another plane? To their plane? This was on a whole different level. Quite literally.

She stood in the elevator in relative silence, the only real indicator of her unease a slight twitch in the tip of her tail and the slight tapping of her index finger on one of her folded arms. She felt Baskerville shuffle out of his place in her hood and onto her shoulder, pressing in close to her scarred neck both to comfort her and himself-the poor guy was shaking like a leaf. The strange sensation the elevator was causing in her chest must be even more intense for him given his diminutive frame. She leaned her head closer to him in response, comforting in hushed whispers of infernal, scratching him behind the ear.

She only half listened to Aklee as she babbled on about Idris–no doubt she was their number one fan from the sound of it–and focused instead on the gilded lever she was using to control the contraption. It was labeled with several more floors other than the one she had selected, and if what she had said earlier was true, it had dials for Gilramore as well. The fact that this thing could, for all intensive purposes, materialize in Gilramore on command was somewhat impressive, and it made her all the more wary. She wondered briefly how hard it would be to control the elevator herself, but quickly dismissed the thought. If Idris was powerful enough to create all this, she was sure they had intense security measures in place to keep prying eyes and ears away.

If Idris was powerful enough to have their own plane of existence, she shuddered to think what else they were capable of, aside from what she already knew. Between their decorated war history and the trail of broken wrists they’d left in their wake, and now magic more powerful than they’d originally anticipated, it was a good thing they’d blacklisted their home. Who knew what sort of strange traps they had set up inside, or if it really even existed on the mortal plane. Hell, maybe that missing recruit was imprisoned here somewhere, not that she’d ever go looking for them. She valued her own life way too much for that.

She had to remember to thank Ronan again for saving her ass from that mission. Right after she punched him for the forest thing. And if they all got out of this encounter alive and unscathed.

When the elevator finally came to a stop and Acklee led them out into the writer’s pit, Kallista hung back. Hooves clacking loudly against the hard floors with every cautious step she took, she looked around the room, taking in her surroundings.

Well, the interior decoration certainly screamed elf to say the least, not that she minded, they had good taste. It was probably all the gold accents appealing to her vanity and love of coin.  Maybe she’d like it all a little more if Acklee would stop bringing up the fact they were on a different plane and that the outside was an illusion, but it didn’t sound like they were gonna stop gushing about it  or Idris any time soon. She briefly regarded the many diligent writers packed into the room with feigned interest, really only struck by the wide variety of races present (a comfort given Holden’s racial climate) before turning her attention elsewhere.

She had no real interest in the Scrying Spectator other than as a minor amusement and possibly as a conversation piece, especially between her party members given the many…interesting conversations they’d had about it, but as far as this tour went, she really couldn’t care less. If anything, this was a prime chance to study Idris up close. But that didn’t stop the nagging, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach from increasing the longer they stayed in this realm.

She had a bad feeling about all this.

Part of her wished Idris would just materialize in front of them so the suspense would end, but she much preferred being prepared, even if her nerves were killing her. It was a small comfort to see that the rest of the group was just as nervous, if not more so than she was (at least most of them anyway, Trill looked absolutely enthralled). She did feel bad for Tami though, this was all probably more than she signed up for when she came to town, and she definitely looked like she was going to need a stiff drink or two after this. Her lips twitched up in amusement at the thought. That color green definitely didn’t look healthy, she really hoped she didn’t pass out. At the very least, it seemed Baskerville was back to normal, which was a relief.

They continued on to the next room, and her attention immediately went to the shelves of magical objects lining the walls. Her fiery eyes scanned each item, narrowing slightly in interest. She wasn’t sure what most of them were or what they did, but she was sure they could all fetch a handsome price from the right buyer. If this was the sort of the stuff Idris had just lying around, she couldn’t exactly blame the guild for wanting to get into their home. It could very well be a gold mine. With a small sigh she straightened up and continued walking around the room with the group, feigning interest in whatever it was they were talking about on the tour. Aligning articles? Magic used for sending the paper? Perhaps she would have found it interesting on another day, but as it stood, she was too immersed in her thoughts to care.

When they finally reached the reception area, she sucked in a deep and shaky breath. The room was adorned with paintings, medals, and suits of armor, all belonging to Idris, a testimony to their many accomplishments. Flashy. Someone clearly thought highly of themselves and wanted to strike fear into clients. And it was definitely working. “Oh boy here we go.” she mumbled to herself under her breath as she took a turn about the room while the others spoke with the receptionist. 

Her eyes scanned every glittering medal, every piece of worn armor, every elaborate portrait and painting with a mix of awe and nervousness. She was thankful she was so good at keeping up appearances, because right now she was in a bit of a panic. No one she knew had ever gotten this close to Idris and left unscathed. No one had ever spoken to them, much less been invited to speak with them. No one had ever seen just how powerful and vast their magic was. And the thought that she was to be the first was terrifying.

She stopped before one of the glass cases holding their armor for a moment to take a closer look. As familiar as it looked, it was clear it was a much older variant of the Emperor’s Right uniform. It looked much flashier than the current version, and even though battle worn, it was a beautiful set. While examining the intricate metalwork and engravings criss crossing along the chest piece with an admiring eye, her mind wandered back to Ronan and that night.

She stood at his door, one hand raised as if to knock, the other balled into a fist, shaking at her side, eyes glued to the ground. She really shouldn’t bother him so late at night, she knew how he loved his privacy, but she didn’t know what else to do or who to talk to about this. After a moment, she lowered her hand and rested it on the doorknob. To her surprise, it gave way immediately, its lock unlatched. She tiptoed hesitantly into his small home, going room to room until she found him in the kitchen.

He didn’t even look up from where he was sitting at the kitchen table, twirling a knife in his hand, his legs propped up against the tabletop, the picture of ease. “Took you long enough to open that door,” he drawled, glancing over at her for a moment, then turning his attention back to the knife. “I unlocked it while you were standing there deliberating. If you were going for the sneaky approach, you’re going to have to do better than that.” When she didn’t respond with her usual smart-ass remark, he stopped his ministrations and straightened up in his chair, finally giving her his full attention. She was rarely ever this quiet and somber, and when she was it was never a good sign.

“What’s wrong with you?” the older tiefling looked over her critically, taking note of her shaking hands and the turmoil present in her glowing red eyes. Kallista wordlessly glanced up at Ronan, her overall panic only increasing the longer she stood before him. She outstretched her arm slowly and passed him a small missive, which he plucked from her grasp and immediately began reading. His eyes tracked across the page swiftly, and the longer he held it the more furious his expression became.

“This will not stand,” he snarled, crumpling the paper in his grasp before setting it alight. “You are NOT taking this mission. You are NOT going into that death trap of a house. Over my dead body.” Kallista scoffed half heartedly, eyes down cast. “I can’t exactly refuse now can I? They’re just going to tell me to do it anyway. I can’t really tell them no.” “Like hell you can’t,” he spat, stabbing his knife into the table before him and getting to his feet. She took a step back, a bit startled by his response. “Maybe they’d listen to YOU but I’m not exactly much of-” she stopped abruptly as he stomped past her, muttering curses under his breath.

After a moment she scrambled after him and out into the dark streets, doing her best to keep her agitated hoofbeats silent. “Where are you going?!” she hissed, following his winding track through the shadows with ease. He stopped abruptly at the end of an alleyway, balling his hands into fists. The moonlight filtering down through the buildings gave an eerie glow to his skin and cast deep dark shadows along his cheekbones and jaw. He glanced back at her over his shoulder, and the expression on his face and pure fury burning bright in his eyes was terrifying, even to her. “To give them a piece of my mind.”

From what she heard of the exchange from her peers, Ronan made an absolute scene. They accused him of being too soft, of asking for special treatment when none should be given, but he ignored them and railed on. He was nothing if not eloquent, and twisted their words and turned the argument in his favor with ease. He convinced them to reassign her and give the mission to someone else, much to their displeasure.

When he met her in her home the next day to tell her the news, she stood awkwardly before him, struggling to come up with the proper words to express her gratitude and failing, mumbling a lackluster “thank you” to him while wringing her hands together. To her surprise, he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, a faint smile turning up the corners of his lips as he nodded in acceptance, a look of fondness ghosting upon his face. She shook her head slightly, a smile finally cracking her lips, and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly, relief rolling off her in waves. After the initial shock, he returned the hug somewhat awkwardly, not usually the hugging type, but his smile grew ever so slightly nonetheless.

She was broken from her reverie as the receptionist summoned them into the office. Her clacking footsteps echoed loudly as she trotted quickly over to the group, joining them at the door and giving a respectful nod to the dark skinned elf before stepping through.

When they finally stood before Idris, it took all her strength to keep up her aloof demeanor because there they were mere feet away. The guild’s boogeyman.

She didn’t really believe in any gods, but she silently hoped that they were watching over her and that Idris wouldn’t see right through her.