#not to mention apparently some people actually saw the northern lights here? but I was inside

[aceofstars16]

…wow…

[winterrose527]

Prompt: Person A backs into Person B’s car.

Truly adored this one. Here you go, my love!

****

He was really starting to hate King’s Landing.

It wasn’t that he’d ever liked it. Even when they’d come to the capital for their eighth grade class trip, he and Jon couldn’t quite understand why anyone would want to live here.

And now, he did.

Well he didn’t want to but he did live here. He had for about two months. His family company was expanding and as the heir apparent he was in charge of opening the new office, a soft launch for his future as its leader.

With that in mind, he’d gone with very little argument. It wasn’t that there weren’t good reasons. It had given him a convenient excuse to get out of a relationship that had run its course without hurting anyone’s feelings, he was getting to build a team from the ground up, and he’d even gotten a pretty great apartment close to the beach.

Not that he could go anytime other than at night because it was too hot. And even with the salt air it still smelled like garbage.

None of that was anything compared to the people. This city was like a magnet for selfish, aspirational, people with non-existent moral compasses. And not only that, but there were a lot of them.

Which led to his least favorite thing about King’s Landing: the traffic.

It felt like he lost hours of his day to traffic. He would have taken the subway, but the line that would have taken directly from his doorstep to his office (the exact reason he’d chosen the apartment) was under emergency construction, because of course it was.

The light was green and yet the car in front of him wasn’t moving. He looked and saw that the driver was – is she plucking her eyebrows?

King’s Landing had turned him into something he hated. Robb Stark was officially a honker now.

“MOVE!” he yelled, even though his windows were up as he lay on his horn.

As though he was inconveniencing her, she made a big show of stopping what she was doing and started to drive. He went to place his foot on the gas and -bam.

“What the fuck?” he asked the general world.

A gold – yes gold – convertible had just backed up into his SUV.

He got out of the car, ready to let this person bear the brunt of every bit of frustration he’d been feeling for the past two months.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked as soon as his door closed, it was getting closer as they came around his car, “I am so sorry!”

“Yeah well –“ he started and then stopped. “I…uh… are you okay?”

It wasn’t exactly what he had planned on saying but he also hadn’t planned on the person who hit him being the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life.

She shook her head, slender fingers brushing back naturally golden hair (after two months here he could spot the difference), “I’m fine, I am just so embarrassed. And sorry. Is your car damaged?”

“Um, I don’t know,” he admitted, realizing he should have been thinking about that rather than wondering how her legs could seemingly go on for miles though she would hardly make it up to his shoulder. He started walking towards her and she turned and lead him around his car. And then bent over. “Looks good to me.”

“Thank the gods,” she said with a hand to her chest, straightening up and peering over at him, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He nodded, “It was just a little love tap.” Her eyes widened and he blushed, “What a stupid fucking thing to say, huh?”

She laughed, “Original, though.” Then held out her hand, “I’m Myrcella Baratheon.”

He shook her small one, and introduced himself, “Robb Stark. Can I ask you something?” She nodded, her hand still in hers, “What is a girl like you doing with a car like this?”

This girl was all class. Her structured white shorts and silk button down, fresh face, pale nails as opposed to the garish red pointed ones so many women down here wore.

The car was decidedly not.

“It’s not mine,” she told him and his stomach clenched, wondering if it belonged to a boyfriend that was clearly in no way good enough for her. “It’s my older brother’s. He’s… the actual worst.” He opened his mouth and she smiled, taking her hand up and holding it up in front of her, “The worst. Look at his license plate.”

He glanced at it and saw that it read KING JOFF.

He laughed, “It hurts.”

“Hey Robb, I know I just rear ended you and all, but can I show you something?” she asked.

Anything he might of said. Instead he just nodded.

She turned and walked down the length of the car and he followed her and then she pointed at the rearview mirror.

“Do I need to see a neurologist or is that not a mirror?” she asked.

He leaned over and his jaw dropped, “That is not a mirror… I think it’s some sort of…mosaic? And definitely not legal. You could have taken out the whole city with this thing.”

“Thank the gods, I thought I was going crazy, it’s just that my car is in the shop-,” he smirked at her and she rolled her eyes and smiled, self-deprecatingly, “For a standard tune up. I should have known there would be a catch when he offered to let me borrow this one.”

“Yeah I don’t recommend you drive this thing,” he told her, then asked stupidly, “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

He watched as a blush rose on her cheeks and she demurred, “That’s alright. I can’t inconvenience you anymore than I already have. Thank you, though.”

He nodded, because he did have a meeting he was supposed to be at in about ten minutes.

“Well… could I maybe have your number?” he asked.

She nodded immediately, “Yes, of course, I won’t be on his insurance so please just get a quote and send me whatever it is. I’ll make it right.”

“Oh,” he shook his head, realizing that while that was the normal reason to have asked the woman who just rear ended you for her number it was absolutely not something that had even occurred to him. “No that was actually my way of asking you out.”

A smile landed on her face so quickly that it brought one to his own.

“You’re asking me out?” she asked.

“Trying to,” he agreed.

She crossed her arms over her chest, thinking something over and asked, “And what if this was my car?”

“Um,” he laughed as he thought about it, “Well I’d still ask you out. I would just never ever agree to drive anywhere with you in it.”

She giggled, and then informed him in a stage-whisper, “I drive a hybrid.”

“Family dinners must be interesting,” he teased.

“Oh you have no idea,” she smiled.

“I’d like to,” he told her.

She grinned again and then knocked a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses off of her head and onto her nose, “You know, you’re a lot smoother than the last guy I rear ended.” He opened his mouth and she told him, “Kidding.Do you have your phone?”

He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. She typed her number in and then handed the phone back to him.

“Are you going to be alright getting this back in there?” he asked, gesturing to what looked to be a private garage.

She nodded, “Thankfully he didn’t cover the windshield in crystals.”

He chuckled, “No because that would be tacky. Well get home safe, Myrcella Baratheon. I’ll call you soon.”

She gave him a heart stopping grin and then opened her door and eased into the driver’s seat. He went around his car and got back in, easing back into traffic.

Thankfully it was fairly light the rest of the way so he was only a little bit late for his meeting.

It was a busy day, some final interviews that people had wanted him to take part in, some calls with his Dad and Jon up north. So it wasn’t until later, as he walked the beach still in his suit, his shoes off and the sand beneath his feet, that he had a chance to call her.

He scrolled through to M, but Mom was the last entry.

“Was it Marcella?” he asked the sea.

He scrolled up just to be sure, but the only Marcella in his phone was a girl he’d met on a vacation in the Summer Isles. He deleted the contact because he hadn’t spoken to her in a full five years.

No girl had ever not given him her number before. He knew that it happened, it just hadn’t ever happened to him. There weren’t many that he asked for, and only when he felt something that seemed reciprocated. And though they’d only had a limited conversation, it seemed like they had.

She’d been so sweet and sorry and cute, pointing out her brother-

He scrolled up to the Ks and would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy sighing in relief when he saw King Joff waiting for him.

Without hesitating he pressed call and listened as it rang once, twice.

“Hello?” a soft voice asked.

“I’m uh, looking to speak to the king,” he greeted her.

Her giggle filled his ear, “Don’t even mention him I am in SUCH trouble. How are you Robb Stark?”

“I’m better now that I found your number, two scares in one day? Is this what it’s going to be like with you?” he asked.

“I’m free tomorrow night,” she informed him, “Want to find out?”

***

Two months later…

“And of course,” he sighed as he slowed down behind a bright yellow SUV.

“I would think you’d be used to the traffic by now and besides,” Myrcella noted at his side, “I would have thought you’d be fine being late for dinner with my family.”

“Your mother already hates me enough,” he pointed out, “I can’t afford to be late on top of being northern, being a man, being unrelated to you, being sexually attracted to you, being liberal, being alive…”

The light had turned green and yet the cars in front of him hadn’t moved. He went to go honk his horn but Myrcella grabbed his hand before he could.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hello,” he returned.

“Do you know what’s nice about traffic?” she asked. He raised his brow and she smiled, “I get to do this.”

With that she leaned in and kissed his lips softly. He kissed her back less so, his fingers carding into her hair as she opened her mouth to his.

Cars had started honking all around him, but in that moment he didn’t care.

He was really starting to love King’s Landing.

[callboxkat]

Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 1/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective, plus a few new scenes. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone. Please read the warnings!

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Warnings:  food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 1764

Part 2 

Ao3 Link

Writing Masterpost!

...

Roman bounded down the bustling street, waving to familiar passerby as he went. He knew he was easy to pick out and very recognizable, in his white knight’s uniform. Despite the early morning, many people were already up and about, setting up for the day, but the street lamps still glowed—a recent installation, they actually ran on electricity! Roman still didn’t quite understand how that worked, but he was proud to see his settlement prospering, and it was fascinating, how much light came from them, just from a few little wires and some glass. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment involved.

“Good morning, Sir Roman,” a shopkeeper called.

Roman tabled his nerdy thoughts for the time being. He put on a bright smile and approached the shop, where a woman stood sweeping clear the welcome mat. “Good morning to you, Maryanne!”

The woman put aside the broom and dusted her hands off on her apron. “Would you like a pastry? The peaches just arrived from Mellow Valley, and they are simply delightful in a fruit tart.”

Roman hummed consideringly. “Oh, that’s very tempting, but I’m afraid I’m in a rush this morning!”

“Some other time, then. Perhaps you could even bring that handsome young man you’re always with.” She winked.

Roman really hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Of course—you know I love your treats.”

Roman was on his way to his shift guarding the outer wall, an imposing structure built of shining gray stone that protected the citizens of his home from the monsters that roamed the forest beyond. It was an important job, entrusted to the expertise of the knights, and one that Roman loved doing; but it wasn’t always the most exciting prospect. Their settlement, Old Haven, was one of the longest standing, enough so that most of the monsters had known since generations past to stay well away; and between the few times that things truly got exciting... they could be terribly dull.

But, before Roman went to his shift that morning, he had a stop to make, and this he was definitely looking forward to.

The apothecary was located just a couple of blocks from the main square, in a small, warmly colored cedar and stone building with windows filled with neatly arranged bundles of colorful herbs and evenly spaced rows of bottles of medicinal powders and potions. A hand-painted sign read, Please come in, in neat, white letters, in an only slightly decorative script.

Roman reached the shop just as the door opened, the bell overhead chiming. A customer stepped out, dressed in a dark robe with the hood up. At first glance, he seemed to be clothed entirely in black, but on closer inspection, his robe was actually a deep plum color. He clutched a bottle of pomegranate juice in one pale hand and a neatly sealed packet of herbs in the other. Dark bangs poked out from under the hood, but his face was cast in shadow. Roman frowned slightly noticing the dark, grayish veins in his hands as he stepped back to give the man room. He hurried past Roman and disappeared down the street. Roman stepped inside the apothecary once he was gone.

The apothecarist, Logan, stood behind a counter within the shop, wearing an elegant, navy colored coat and his usual pair of spectacles. He was pushing together a pile of coins on the counter. Copper and bronze coins only, Roman noticed. No silver.

“Got a lot of vampire clientele?” Roman asked, leaning (or perhaps posing) against one of the display cabinets.

Logan looked up, the warm lamplight making his deep blue irises glitter in a way that never failed to make Roman’s heart skip a beat. He glanced back down and finished tucking away the money. “Six,” he said honestly. “Seven, most likely, although she has not personally shared that information with me, and if she is, hers appears to be a mild case.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Ah… they’re a little too similar to monsters, for my taste.”

“It is a monster-derived affliction, that is true, but with modern treatments, most of those afflicted with vampirism can lead nearly normal lives.”

Roman shrugged dismissingly, waving him off. He hadn’t come here to talk about vampires. “I know, I know. Anyway. How’s my favorite nerd this morning?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Logan sighed.

“You know you love it.”

Logan did not deny it, Roman noticed with a small smile. Instead, he adjusted a few already perfectly positioned potion bottles on the counter, before saying, “I am well, although rather busy.”

Roman glanced around the room, noticeably empty of customers. “Ah yes, this is a very busy time for your shop, I see.”

“A customer did depart only moments ago,” Logan pointed out. “Although, no, I was not referring to customers. I’m preparing for an outing.”

“An outing?” Roman was interested, now. “Finally taking a little vacation, are you? Good on you. Where are you going? And more importantly—can I come?”

Logan wanted to smile, Roman could tell. But he didn’t. The guy took himself too seriously. “Not that type of outing. I require materials to restock my shop.”

Roman sighed dramatically, making it a full body motion. So much for a vacation. And the hot springs in the hills of northern Old Haven were so nice this time of year. “So? Just put it on the list for the traders. Mellow Valley should have most of your things in season by now. Did you hear the peaches arrived? Maryanne, that baker on Lilac, promised me some of her delightful pastries. We could go get some, when I’m finished with my shift on the South Wall this morning.”

Logan shook his head “Mellow Valley won’t have everything I need; and besides, the costs are considerably lessened when the materials are personally collected.”

Roman furrowed his brow. “Collected where?”

“Outside.”

“You mean outside, like, as in the park, right?”

“In the woods,” Logan sighed, beginning to sound exasperated.

Roman opened his mouth, then closed it again. The woods. The veritable ocean of dense trees beyond the settlement’s walls, filled to the brim with monsters, held back from advancing only by the strength of the guard and broken only by the occasional human stronghold and the heavily protected trails that linked them. Generally, only knights and the traders they accompanied ever ventured beyond the walls—this was, in fact, why Roman had become a knight in the first place, to get to see some of the world that most only saw through pictures and stories. Citizens were allowed to leave—they weren’t prisoners—but it was very rare, and highly discouraged. Many who went unprepared—or even those who did—never returned; and sometimes even those who did return were not the same as when they left—like the vampires who apparently frequented this shop, or at least one or more of their ancestors. Vampirism could be tricky like that. Sometimes it cropped up randomly, somewhere down the line.

Logan had begun sorting through some of his supplies, acting for all the world as if he hadn’t just announced he had a death wish.

Roman shook off his distracted thoughts of vampirism and knightly missions, and focused on the most important thing: “Please tell me you aren’t planning to go out there alone.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Logan sighed. “I will have my dagger, and I will go no further into the woods than required.”

“Oookay, first of all, why am I just now hearing that you’ve been hanging out in the monster-filled woods by yourself?”

“I would hardly call it ‘hanging out’.”

“And second of all, you are absolutely not doing that.”

Logan gave him a dry look. “Yes, I am. My herbs will not pick themselves.”

“Get a garden like a normal person.”

“You know I have a quite extensive garden.” Logan paused, looked confused. He shook his head, going back to counting bundles of tiny black seeds. “Some of these herbs do not naturally grow within human settlements, let alone ours, and my attempts to recreate their preferred environment have in many cases proven thus far unsuccessful. Besides, I cannot ‘get a garden’ to form mineral deposits, several of which are required in even non-specialty potions.”

Roman still didn’t quite see why Logan wouldn’t be able to get all of this stuff using a trader. Knowing Logan, it was less about the money and more about needing to personally ensure that he received the correct materials. Surely, though, even the least-versed in medicinal resources could get him what he needed, if he described them well enough.

Also knowing Logan, though, he would not be dissuaded from going.

Roman pulled himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest and putting one hand on the protective-charm engraved hilt of his sword. “Alright, then, I am coming with you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming to collect herbs? Can you even tell wormwood from hemlock?”

“I’m not going to find your nerd plants, I’m going to protect you.”

Logan scoffed quietly, clearly believing Roman’s very generous and heroic offer was unnecessary. But he sat down on his stool, finally, and looked at Roman without busying himself with his apothecarist duties. He glanced Roman up and down, apparently trying to decide how serious Roman was. “Alright, then, if you insist.”

“I do!” Roman nodded firmly. He relaxed his posture. “So, when are we going?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes?”

“I—” Roman groaned, looking up towards the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Fine. It’s a little short notice, but fine.” He worked his jaw, then mumbled, “I’ll need to cancel a couple days… maybe Sir Leo can cover? Hm.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, adjusting his spectacles and watching Roman’s dramatics. “I am not forcing you to come.”

You are, though. “Well, I am.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

A beat passed in silence, Roman feeling triumphant, before Logan gave the knight a slightly amused look. “I thought you had a shift on the wall?”

“I—right. Yes.” Roman had gotten a little distracted. He took a couple of steps back. “So, you, me, tomorrow, woods. Great.” He turned towards the door, stopped, and turned around. “About those pastries?”

Logan hummed. “I can take a break two hours after noon, which is when your shift ends, if I remember correctly. I suppose I would accept one then.”

“They have fruit in them,” Roman encouraged. “That makes them healthy!”

“I do not believe that is entirely correct.”

Roman grinned and left the shop.

[doctor-plagueis]

Nora's Knightly Love

Trigger Warning: mentions of noncon and rape you have been warned.

Nora had some troubles, well actually it was a lot of troubles.

From night terrors, to night terrors and night... ok so, Nora has nightmares because of...a lot. Nora lived in the North where if you aren't strong, you die,and she almost did, repeatedly from Beowulfs to Ursas to...people...

Gods...if it wasn't for mother she wouldn't be a virgin today...

That's not a memory she relishes, watching her mother be used as a toy for men like she's nothing but a hole to fuck...Nora was five years old and they were gonna do that to her...fuck, she's crying and shaking again.

Damnit fuck fuck fuck why can't she forget that night daMNIT!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nora's crying again...he should do something...

"Hey Nora, you ok?" he asked meekly

"Huh!" she nearly jumped from her bed at that "Um, um, ye 'm fine..."

"You're not very good at lying" he said while getting up...he's not wearing his pijamas.

"When’d you start sleeping shirtless Fearless Leader? Also are those shorts?" she was curious...and also deflecting.

He moved closer she could see him better now...when'd he get so buff? When he sat down at her bed she realized something...Pyrrha and Rennie were out on their date...

"Started when Yang decided to steal it, apparently she feels comfy in it...weird huh?"

"Yea..."

Awkward silence, more awkward silence even more awkward silence...

“C’mon Nora you can talk to me I'm your leader...and hopefully your friend?" wait, was he unsure of that?

“‘F’course you're my friend Jauney, why, did you think weren't?" Huh weird she's calmer, maybe it has something to do with talking to Fearless Leader? He does have a pretty reassuring presence.

"Well, maybe there's some culture shock with you being a Northerner and me being Arcadian, but in Arcadia when a friend is feeling down we talk about it and sort it out together, would you like that? Would you like to talk?" He was trying to be reassuring… his sisters were always better at it than him.

"...ok" Nora sounds so meek, this is weird.

"You sure? We don't have to y'know" He was calming to her, talking with him made her less scared...maybe this is what she needs?

"Growing up in the North is difficult Jaune-" whoa she called him Jaune not Fearless Leader or Jauney...this is serious "-You either fight back against the world and it's dangers or you die...or worse..." at that Nora saw Jaune recoil slightly not noticeable if they weren't this close…huh…

"My mom and I lived with dad until he was taken by the cold...my only memory of him is lighting his pyre with mum..." she took a breath...this is harder than she predicted. Damnit...

"Then me and mum decided to head south, to warmer lands, away from the shithole that is the North-" wait...is Jaune ok, he looks weird...she'll keep talking with a closer eye now..."-But before we got to the seas...we...we were attacked by raider..."

Jaune was now visibly sweating and breathing heavy, memories were flooding back...bad, bad memories...

"Nothing happened to me but...mum let herself be...used by them she, she was raped Jaune, just so I wouldn't, and then they took her away like some trophy of conquest...that's how I became an orphan...Jaune?" uh oh he's freaking out.

"Jaune, JAUNE!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaune awoke today was a special day, today would be the day his dad finally train him, actually, really train him, with Crocea Mors! This was going to be the start his glory, his heroism would begin today! Hahah oh that’s corny heheh…But he really couldn’t wait…

…So Jaune had taken Crocea Mors to train alone in the woods, so what? He was already gonna train with dad anyway!

(CRACK)

“Huh? What was that?” oookkk so Jaune was suddenly a little worried.

“Well, well, well ain’t you a pretty lil’ thang” came a hoarse voice from the trees.

“Who? Who’s there!? I-I have a sword!” Shit shit shit; Jaune wasn’t ready for this sorta stuff! Fighting some Creeps or young Beowulfs is one thing but fighting someone is different!

“Ohohoho, looks like this blond cutie has sum fight in’im…good, more fun this way…” that’s really, really creepy and concerning.

“Where are you!? Show yourself!” Jaune tried being intimidated.

“Oh don’tchu worry, ya won’t have time to anyways”

“wha-”

“you’ll be more worried about breathin’ with a cock in yer throat hahahaha!”

At that Jaune chose to make the smart move: run like hell!

Except he didn’t get away…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“JAUNE!” Nora screamed.

“Huh, wha!?”

“Are you okay!? No, don’t answer that you, clearly aren’t!”

“I-I uh…”

Jaune was silent now, which for Nora was a bad sign…

…Maybe it’s time for Nora to act less like a Northerner and start acting more like an Arcadian…

“Jauney…yo-um-ya-crap, ok, Jaune” she said searching for words and getting his attention.

“Jaune look at me” he did.

“Did did-um did I bring some bad things up? I mean obviously I did but-um” ugh this is difficult how do Arcadians do it?

“Did I bring anything bad for you?”

“Ye-yea, I um…you just reminded me how I lost my…”

“Virginity?” she really hopes he says no, please for Brothers sake say no!

“Yea…”

“Oh Jaune I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to I-” She made him remember such a horrible thing…

“Don’t, you couldn’t have known” she shouldn’thave known…

Nora got up stood in front of Jaune and held her arms open…Nora isn’t good at this but at least she knows hugs are good comfort…

...Jaune accepted the hug.

“You can cry Jaune …please cry it’s good for you…”

“(Hick) I’m not goin’ to cry (hick)”

“Stop forcing yourself to be strong…isn’t that what you made me do? I’m here…”

At that Jaune broke down like a faulty dam, and he didn’t stop crying for a long, long time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was a week ago.

Jauney and I have been spending more time together we’re supporting each other as best we can…

…My nightmares are going away, well, not really, but with Jauney's help they’re…manageable…I’ve found myself talking less with Rennie, and I don’t really mind it weirdly, oh well, Rennie does need to spend more time with his girlfriend after all…

…Hope Pyrrha's taking care of him well.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nora and I have been talking about our…pasts a lot lately, its helping.

Nora and I also have been having these weird silences, not awkward but comforting, is this what friends feel all the time? Pyrrha and I don’t have these silences, neither do any of the other girls, huh, kinda feels special for some reason…

…I like the silence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Almost a month now, me and Jauney have been talking for a month, and I feel like we’ve bonded so much over so little time, maybe we’ve bonded even faster than Rennie and I did...I like it Jaune and I’s bond, feels good, really good…

…I think I like him, like, like-him-like-him. I’m okay with it, more than okay actually…

…Does he feel the same?... Why am I even worrying he doesn’t?...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I really like Nora, oh who’s believing that blatant lie?

I Love Nora. As more than a friend, I love Nora romantically…

…Maybe she feels the same? Oh, who am I kidding? she’d never love someone like me, not after… (sigh)

Maybe I should just ask her out she’ll reject me and we can go back to talking like friends.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alright perfect Ren and Pyrrha are away I can ask Him/Her

��Hey Nora/Jaune” they said simultaneously

“Oh, go ahead Nora” always the gentleman, one of his many charms.

“Nu-uh Fearless leader you first!” she said playfully

“yeahokayIcandothis” Jaune said under his breath

“Nora” “Yeah?” “Would you go get some dinner with me?”

“Ooh like dinner pancakes? Sure Jauney, you’re the best!” she was so excited (sigh) she’s amazing…

“N-No more like a-ummm”

“A what Jauney?”

“Wouldyougooutonadatewithme?” Oh great, he messed it up.

“…” her silence is so deafening, I really fucked up huh?

“…YES!!!” wait wut?

“Ohyoudon’tknowhowmanyweeksI’vewaitedforeitherofustoaskthatIwasgonna askyououtmyselfbecauseIcouldn’twaitand-”

“Nora! Nora calm down and speak in a way I can understand”

“I, yea, sorry, got too excited, started talking Nora mode, anyways-” she was…still talking really fast, but at least he could understand now! “-The answer is yes, also fuck yes and also gods I’ve waited too long to do: this!”

Suddenly Nora lunged forward and stabbed Jaune…Nah she just kissed him…WAIT A DAMN MINUTE!

“mhnph!” “Mmm~oh yeah, always knew you’d taste good Jauney~” “…izzat a yes?”

“What do you think?” “I think I’m dreaming that’s what” Nora giggled at that, fuck, even her laugh is adorable

“Well you’re wide awake, and, you got yourself a date! Isn’t that a confidence boost~” Fucking hell Nora knows how to be seductive.

“I’m the luckiest guy in beacon right now!” he said with his signature goofy grin

“Well” she wrapped her arms around his “where’s our date going to be?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Notes]

[Pyrrha and Ren are indeed dating.]

[Yes the Booty Tier List will affect this check it out]

[Again this is going to be my first smut story so I'd apreciate the criticism]

Here ya go this is the first part of this two-shot.

Nest one will be smut I promise.

Part 1 / Part2

[dungeonecologist]

oh man i totally forgot there was a passing time mechanic in this... the second dungeon is a different forest, also newly teleported in from another world, where we have to go track down a doppleganger of one of our party members. on our way out of the village a little exposition blurb mentions that Giant Butterflies show up in the northern forests in spring time*, so if we take too long to complete the mission, the monster line up might change on us. I really like this idea but I have no clue if it'll persist meaningfully throughout the game, or be a feature that just kinda gets forgotten about, or under utilized.(like if the monster rotation isn't actually unique and just shuffles around things we'll have already seen)

Really loving these little dungeon illustrations that show up with their title cards. So far they're a little same-y but I can't wait for us to get to some of the weirder or more exotic locales.

Anyway, we are technically in a different section of the same forest as before, so no surprise that Spider Hoppers, Thorny Mushrooms, and Googly Seeds are back. But we've also got Googly Tree Buds now alongside their seeds!

There are Fanged Baboons, although they're weird armless baboons.... i guess we just aren't going to question that... The Geldi Monkey, which seems to hang out with the anatomically questionable baboons, which... i guess makes sense? Im not sure what the word "Geldi" here is referring to, possibly the German geld, meaning "gold" referring to the color? A mistransliteration of Goeldi/Goeldii, which is a type of marmoset? an even more off base attempt at gelada, which is a type of baboon? Dunno...

Venus flytraps and the like are subtropic swamp plants, baboons are African savanna and light woodlands, and the geldi are in fact just very angry marmosets then those would be native to South American rainforest... not that the world here is directly analogous to Earth, but the general habitats aren't really similar.

We also get Saw Kingfisher, a neat tropical looking bird with a saw-like beak, hence the name. Despite the name not all Kingfishers actually do hunt fish, although that's obviously what they're known for. Plenty species also live away from major water sources and prey on insects. Real life Kingfishers are actually really pretty birds, but these things in game are kind of an ugly mess of a design. :/

It's also the first "black beast" enemy we fight, although the term seems a little erroneously translated; I assume it was meant to read as "dark beast." The color palette is a real bad darker version of the basic monster, not "black" at all really, and frankly it's not even a good recolor, as it looks like they just through a dark multiply layer over the original texture. Although the little anime cutscene actually does depict it as a shadowy blob with a purple aura, rather than just a miscolored bird.

I hadnt mentioned but this ds game had little anime cutscenes and BOY O BOY did they not age well. actually i remember them looking bad even when this first came out. the file compression is a mess and every frame is a artifact ridden disaster. Which is a shame because it's all really fun looking otherwise.

Anyway the Black Beasts/Black Monsters/"Renegades" are monsters from other worlds who can apparently only be defeated by people from their own world, or our heroes who've been initiated by magical means. This isn't actually at all important, because our entire playable cast will qualify, which is a shame because it might have been interesting to occasionally run into enemies that we just can't beat and have to run from, or that everyone can damage but only certain party members can finish off.

Going into this i thought this dungeon might be longer, but it was pretty short and the "boss" was just the dark Saw Kingfisher. If these early dungeons stay kinda plain I might skip blogging any of them until stuff gets interesting... We'll see...

*I forgot about this but I went back to futz around on the world map until the season changed. For one it took WAY longer than I realized. There was no way on earth to have accidentally let enough time pass for this to be an issue, and there appear to be no such giant butterflies at all actually.

[im-hqlover]

DT - Fallen Kingdom - Mistakes

(Aww, i love this gif so much! Btw the gif doesn't belong to me)

A/n - Okay, I know this is totally random, but after re-watching the movie Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom I was really looking forward to writing this, and to explain some things this is part of the same series of Dinosaur Trainer fanfics, but in the future. Why did I write this instead of writing chapter 2? I don't know, I just wanted to write something that happened in the Fallen Kingdom movie, and so as not to lose inspiration I wrote. 

Some things will only make sense to me, and it will only make sense to you after I write more about the story. (I swear I’ll try to write Chapter 2 soon, and do them in the right order, and not jump into the past and then into the future, but I told myself that whenever I have an idea to write, I should write, if not later I will never be able to write this again, so here it is.)  

Btw, I also wanted something angst and fluff, because I don't know, I like to write / read with this combination of angst and fluff, am I weird? Maybe ¯ \ _ (ツ) _ / ¯ 

But I hope you like it! Oh, and the dinosaurs I censored the name of the species, because I still want it to be a surprise that I intend to reveal only in chapter 3, then xxxxxxxxxxx is the fusion of the dinosaur that y/n trains together with another one that I will not reveal yet 🤭😁, you will understand what I mean, especially with future chapters, so I’ll leave it to your imagination which dinosaur it is. Enjoy! See you in the final notes!

Warnings: Spoilers, almost death by dinosaur, mentions of miscarriage, crying (a lot), angst, "cheated", dino death ;-;, fight, possible english errors, maybe other things that I'm forgetting... let me know if you find something I need to warn that I forgot.

(oh, and Claire isn't very nice here, so if you like her, sorry. not sorry)

Pairing: Owen Grady x Pregnant!Reader

Y/n = Your name

Words count: 4783

Previous chapters: One

Next chapters: Maybe not that soon xD

Synopsis: A few months after the Jurassic World incident, Owen and y / n get married, and decide that they would live on the roads for a long time, until they met a small town in northern California, and decided to start building their own house in a beautiful place. Everything was going well, more than well, everything was perfect, well, at least until y/n finds out she's pregnant, at first she was afraid to tell her husband about the news, but when she takes courage and she decided that she would find a cute way to tell him about it, they get a call about saving the surviving dinosaurs from Isla Nublar, and were visited by Claire, who insisted that they go to save the dinosaurs, y/n really wanted to save Rain, one of the surviving dinosaurs she trained, and she knew she couldn't tell Owen that she was pregnant because she knew he would never let her go. What could go wrong?

Taglist:  If you want to be part of my taglist, please let me know!

Y/N's INFO:

Gender: Cis-Female

Sexuality: Straight 

Height: Short 

Weight: Not Defined 

Skin Color: Not Defined 

Hair Color: Not Defined 

Eyes Color: Not Defined

Other details? Y/n is myopic

(I hope I have put all the information, let me know if I forgot something)

[...]

I was in a corner of the dark room watching Rain and the Xxxxxxxxxxx, they seemed to be communicating, making grunts, and Rain seemed to make the same sounds as when she cried, and it was breaking my heart, I was so scared, and probably Rain would die anytime and I would be helpless, and so I would die for that mutant being. 

The Xxxxxxxxxxx looks at me, and approaches slowly, my breath started to accelerate and the tears kept flowing, I bit my lip holding my hiccups with the dinosaur's proximity, she looks at me and I swallow, she touches the hand that was on my belly and snorts, she closed eyes for a second before grunting, the same grunt that Rain did when I approached her there in the truck. 

I really wanted to know what they talked about, how the hell was the dinosaur that seconds ago was trying to kill me, it was there next to me, touching my stomach, I just hoped it wasn't something she was doing before killing me, but luckily she did nothing against me, and so when the lights came back on, she lifted her head and grunted, turning and walking away. 

I walk towards Rain, and I see that her breath was failing a lot, I sit next to her, placing my hand on her neck, and she growled quietly, more and more tears start to fall and I hear a very loud scream coming from somewhere, but I looked again at the albino dinosaur when she groans in pain. 

- I'm sorry, I wish I could help, but I don't know... - My voice comes just above the whisper, Rain opens her blue eyes and grunts one last time, until her body stops moving. - Rain!

I scream her name softly and bend down, placing my face on the scaly skin, letting the tears fall. I get up on wobbly legs, I couldn't stay there with her dead, so I walked to the nearest doors and opened it, entering a room where it looked like an exhibition place, but it was all a mess, I hear voices and walk towards it, just to see Owen and Claire kissing. 

My already broken heart seemed to have been trampled to dust, I let a sob leave my lips with the scene, and because of that Owen looks at me with wide eyes, I run towards one of the corridor, just to get out of there as soon as possible, I hear my husband's voice in the distance calling my name, but I kept running, not looking back, until I reached the main door, leaving the Lockwoods' mansion, where raindrops wet my entire body. 

My body shivers when I hear the sound of a grunt coming from a high place, and when I turn around, I see that on top of the roof there was a dinosaur, I thought that maybe it was Xxxxxxxxxxx, but its shape was different, so maybe it was other, but I couldn't identify which one it would be. 

I see it coming down the roof, entering through a window, and in a short time I hear the sound of gunshots, followed by dinosaur grunts and human screams, and then through the same window that that dinosaur came in, I see two people leave, but I couldn't identify who it was. 

I start to follow them across the floor, as I follow them, I hear more grunts and screams, in addition to the sound of glass breaking. The two people went to a glass ceiling, and I tried to identify who it was, but I couldn't see well, but apparently the dinosaur was following them, and maybe it was approaching them, because after a roar, they walk away, and one of the people ends up slipping and screaming, but the other one else catches it. 

I hear footsteps next to me and see that it was Xxxxxxxxxxx, she looks at me and makes a small sound, before she starts to climb the walls, and then a faint sound of banging metal appears. 

The two people who were falling manage to climb, the bigger person walks away, and the unidentified dinosaur screams, and soon after I hear glass breaking, in addition to more grunts. I see that Xxxxxxxxxxx reached the ceiling, and went into attack position, and another smaller dinosaur screams, who could almost swear it was the sound of a velociraptor, and they both attack the dinosaur, and they all fall off the glass ceiling. 

Not long after, the people up there say something, but I was too far away to understand, and I notice that the silhouette of the two people is gone. 

I look around, hoping there wasn't any dinosaur there, and I go back to the mansion's entrance, standing on the stairs. I didn’t know where to go, what to do, or what to feel, so many things had happened that day, almost death on the isla Nublar, discovering that they weren't actually looking after the dinosaurs, but would sell them, mutant dinosaur, dinosaur attacks, Rain's death, watching Owen's scene… 

My tears are mixed with rainwater when I start to remember Rain and Owen, the only thing I could do now was cry, feel guilty, feel worthless, and think I'm not good enough. 

I wrap my arms around my stomach, and I ended up getting even more worried, the baby, all this madness would certainly not be good for the baby, and I was afraid that I might have an miscarriage because of that, and I didn’t want to lose this baby, I already suffered a lot in just one day, and with that, I don’t know what I could do with me. 

Lost in thought, I get scared when I hear the heavy noise of several dinosaurs running, and I hadn't even realized that the rain had stopped, I hear footsteps approaching the front door, Turning to see who it was, I realize it was Owen, along with a girl, Franklin, Zia and urgh, Claire. 

I walk down the stairs before they leave, but of course Owen would see me and then he screams out calling my name. 

- Y/n! Wait! - I stop in the middle of the steps when I see a familiar dinosaur at the bottom of the stairs, Blue. Owen stopped beside me, and when he saw the velociraptor he spoke. - Hey Girl. 

- Owen. - I hear Claire's voice, and I swear that hearing her say my husband's name made me want to throw up and start crying again, not that the tears stopped at some point in fact, damn hormones that wouldn't let me go without crying for a second. 

- Shh! It's okay, she won't hurt us. - Owen goes down the rest of the steps, approaching Blue, with his hand extended to touch her. - Hey. 

Without my realizing it, I went down the stairs, approaching Owen and the velociraptor.

- Blue, come with me. - He pets Blue, and she purrs, and then takes Owen's hand away, approaching me slowly, she sniffs me for a moment and gently touches my stomach, which makes me smile, and then I pet her too, making her purr, and Owen puts his hand on her again, it seems like he didn’t realized it as anything else, but I knew she knew I was pregnant, as well as Rain and Xxxxxxxxxxx. 

- We'll take you to a safe place, okay? - Blue chitter and then follows the look of Owen who was seeing the big container beside and looks again at Owen before running from there to the forest, looking back for a second, making another noise as if to say goodbye, more tears flow from my eyes, and I still had my arms around my stomach. My husband looks at me, he was going to say something, but he is interrupted by a little girl who hugs him, I look at him for a moment, and then I can't let a sob out of my mouth, then cover it with my hand and leave. 

- Y/n! Where are you going!? 

- Anywhere away from you! - I can muster the strength to speak before continuing on my aimless path, I hear the sound of his steps on the gravel and feel him take my wrist, forcing me to look at him. - Leave me! 

I try to remove his hand from my wrist, but it only made him hold both of my arms, preventing me from leaving. 

- Y/n, that was a misunderstanding…

- Oh sure! A kiss was a misunderstanding! I know very well what I saw! And I know very well that you should be loving this! Why don't you just break up with me and stay with your dear Claire Dearing? - I say with all the anger and sadness that had engulfed my body, trying desperately to remove his hands from me. 

- Y/n, I didn't kiss her! She kissed me! 

- Ah, of course, the typical excuse. - I roll my eyes, avoiding looking at him. - I know I'll never be perfect like her, so why just… don't let me… 

All the anger that I had ends up falling, and I just feel disappointment in myself and a deep sadness. 

- Because I love you, and I could never leave you. - He puts a hand on my cheek, wiping my tears away, but I push, not wanting him to touch me. 

- I doubt it. - I look at the stairs for a moment, and I can quickly see the four standing on the stairs, probably listening to our conversation, and I can swear I could see Claire with a little smile. I look at my right side trying hard not to look at him.

- Hey, look at me. - He forced me to look at him, but I was more stubborn, and I wasn't going to give him that power, so I kept looking away. 

- I will always be the last option... - I whisper, as more tears clouded my vision.   

- Hey, listen to me, you aren't the last option, believe me, I love you more than anything in this world, and you know it. - For the second time he puts one of his big hands on my cheek, wiping away my tears, I didn't know what to say, I wanted to retaliate, yell at him, curse him, hit him, but I couldn't do anything. - Nothing Claire does will make me leave you, because you are the only person I love. 

- And how do I know if you're not lying? - I managed to say between sobs. 

- You know I would never be with you if I didn't really love you, right? And I swear to god I will do anything to prove my words that I love you, and that I would go to hell for you. 

For the first time I look at his eyes, his green eyes that I loved so much, for a moment I hesitated but I kiss him, it was a passionate kiss, it was necessary, it was despair, and I can hear the sound of voices behind us, but I didn't pay much attention, because the only thing I wanted to pay attention to was there, in that kiss. But when I feel a sharp pain in my stomach, I have to part with Owen's lips and shrink in pain. 

- Y/n? What happened?

- I-I. - The pang of pain seemed to take all my breath away, making me almost unable to speak. - I d-don't know.

It was then that I felt a liquid between my legs, I couldn't see it, but I was pretty sure it was blood. 

- No, no, no. 

- Y/n, what's going on? 

- O-Owen… - He wraps his arms around me, bringing me closer, and the four who were on the stairs before approach us. 

- What is happening? - Asked Franklin, with his usual nervousness, but I can't judge him, since I was kind of like that too, especially now. I even tried to speak, but I couldn't, I could only think that I probably had an miscarriage, and that I hadn't even told Owen that he was going to be a father. 

- I don't know, y/n was writhing in pain. - He answers while stroking my back, which made me calm down a little. 

- What kind of pain? - Zia asked approaching us both.

- Mis-miscarriage. - It was the only thing I managed to say, but my voice was muffled and I don't know if anyone understood. 

- What? - Owen and Zia speak at the same time. 

- I-I... I think I had... a mis-miscarriage. - I spoke louder as I buried my head in Owen's chest, and held his shirt tighter.

- Miscarriage? What... - Owen doesn't finish talking and just remains silent, and stopped stroking my back. 

- We have to take her to the hospital now. - Zia said to Owen, and he removed his arms from me, before starting to carry me bride-style to one of the cars (or truck?) that was nearby, he put me in the passenger seat and then went around to get into the driver's seat.

I heard the sound of footsteps and I was pretty sure the four of them had gone in behind the car/truck, but I was more busy trying to control my breathing and try to stop crying for a few minutes, but the thought of losing my baby and all of this being my fault kept getting in of my head, I avoided looking at Owen, and I only paid attention to the road in front of us, I realized several times that Owen wanted to say something, but he never spoke, the only thing he said was.

- We're almost there, just a few more minutes. - He had put his hand on my knee, maybe trying to comfort me in some way, but in fact it just made me feel more guilty about not telling him. 

I don't know how Owen managed to find the way to the hospital, but there we were, he took me to the reception, and spoke to the nurse at the counter. 

- Please, this is an emergency! - He raised his voice when the nurse insisted she had to fill out a form before I was attended. 

- What kind of emergency? - The nurse said while typing something on the computer, and then before Owen could answer, I speak. 

- I think I had a miscarriage. - I instinctively put my hands on my belly, and the nurse agrees and starts to call a phone, calling one of the doctors, and then she calls other nurses came and puts me on a stretcher. 

- Hey! Let me go with her! - I hear Owen's voice behind me, but I couldn't see him. 

- Sorry sir, but you'll have to stay in the waiting room. 

- But I'm her husband! 

- Sir, you have to be patient and wait. 

- Please let him come. - I say weakly, but I don't know for exactly who. - Please. 

The nurses looked hesitant, but they let him come along. They took me to an empty room, and we had to wait until the doctor arrived, and meanwhile I was lying there, with Owen by my side holding my hand, I could feel his gaze on me, but I was ignoring him. 

- Y/n.

- … 

- Look at me. - I believe that when he realized that I wouldn't move my head to face him, he gently put his hand on my chin, thus having to look at him. - Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant? 

His voice was low, and I could feel the disappointment as he spoke, I tried to answer, but instead more tears fall. 

- Are you mad at me? - I ask him, but I couldn't look directly in your eyes. 

- No! Of course not! I'm not mad, I'm worried! You already knew that before we went to the island, and yet you agreed to risk you and our baby's life! - When his voice started to increase, I shrunk. 

- Because I knew you wouldn't let me go to the island if I told you! I knew you would be mad! - I remove his hand and look at the other corner of the room. 

- I'm not mad! I'm worried! What did you expect to happen if something worse had happened? What if you had died? 

- You could stay with Claire... - I answer quietly. 

- Y/n, I'm serious!

- And me too! I know you never forgot her! - I increase the tone of my voice, but I stop immediately as another stab of pain arises.

- We already talked about it y/n, now stop deviating from the subject. 

- I-I... - When I was about to start talking, the room door opens and the doctor enters with a clipboard. 

- Y/n Grady? - I nod in agreement and the doctor approaches us both. - Okay, I'm Dr. Briggs, I'm going to ask you some questions before I do the ultrasound, okay?

- Ok… - I glance at Owen, who looked at the doctor and then at me.

- How long have you been pregnant? 

- 6 weeks.

- Uhum, and since when have you known about pregnancy? 

- 3 weeks. - I feel more tears falling from my eyes, and a sob ends up escaping, and I put my hand over my mouth, trying to control myself. 

- Do you take any medication? - I just shake my head negatively, not sure if I could speak. 

- Have you had a lot of stress in the last few days? - I look quickly at Owen, and this time he answered. 

- We were dinosaur trainers, we had to rescue them today, and it was... very stressful. 

- Hum, I understand. - He kept writing something on the clipboard, he asked a few more questions, and when he finished writing he said he would have to go to the room where he had the necessary equipment for an ultrasound, and then he left the room and not long after some nurses came and took the stretcher that I was to another room, and as soon as we got there the doctor said he would be back soon, Owen and I were silent, I still ignored him but I could feel him staring at me.

- 3 weeks… - Owen whispered, probably talking to himself more, but I can't help feeling guilty about it. 

- Owen, I-I… - I tried to recover my voice and add the courage I had to face my husband. - I'm sorry, I was going to tell you! I swear! But at first I was afraid that you didn't want this child, but after I decided I was going to tell you, I wanted, I don't know, to make a cute surprise… but then they called us about the island and the dinosaurs, and then Claire begged us to go… and when I saw you watching the baby velociraptors... I really wanted to save Blue, and Rain, and I knew that if I told you, you wouldn't let me go along. I'm sorry Owen, and now… a-and now our baby is probably d-dead because of me.

As I spoke more tears and sobs appeared, and Owen listened in silence to everything I had to say and wiped my tears away with his fingers. 

- Why did you think I wouldn't want to have a baby? This is one of the most incredible things I could hear. 

- I don't know... I-I, I'm sorry. - It was the only thing I managed to whisper, and when Owen was going to say something, the doctor came into the room. 

- Okay, let's start. - The doctor said when he sat in the chair next to the machine, he touched some things, he turned off the lights and asked me to raise my shirt and lower my pants a little, so that he could apply the warm gel on my belly, and then put the device on, I looked at the screen in front of me, which changed as he slid the device, and I gasped when I saw a small black bean-shaped spot with a white dot on it. 

- Is that white dot her, doctor? - I looked at Owen, and realized that his eyes were watering. 

- Yeah, it's the baby. - The doctor said while analyzing the screen and typing some things. 

- Owen, there's no way of knowing if it was her or him. - My voice was low and sad, while still watching my husband, who looked away from the screen to look at me and smiled at me. 

- I feel it's her. - When Owen said that I laugh a little bit still in tears, and I remembered the rare times we talked about children, saying that he wanted to have 4 girls, and I said that the chances of that happening were low, since it’s not possible to just want to, it’s a game of luck, and the chances of having 4 children, and they were all girls was very difficult, unless I was my aunt and he was my uncle, since they had 5 children, all girls. 

- Well, I can't say that yet, since to discover the genre it will be necessary to wait until the 20th week or more. - When the doctor said that, a click crossed my mind, but I was quiet for a few seconds before speaking.  

- Wait? Do you mean the baby is still alive? - My tears had stopped, and a glimmer of hope appeared, and I looked at Owen again, and I didn't exactly know what he was feeling, but his face was kind of funny to see.  

- I can't say this with 100% certainty yet, I will need some more tests and we need to follow up to see how the embryo and your body reacts, if the body will expel it, if there will be growth of the embryo, or if there will be no growth of it, but apparently what you suffered was an abortion threat, so it's better to be careful that a real miscarriage doesn't happen. 

After so many tears of sadness that I spilled that day, I finally managed to smile and tears of happiness fellen, and I saw that Owen also had a big smile on his face, with a single tear running down your cheek, he took my hand that he had been holding all this time and kissed it, before kissing my forehead. 

- I'll leave you a moment alone, I'll be back in a few minutes. - He took his clipboard and left the room which was still dark, with the image of our baby still appearing on the screen. 

- We're going to be parents. - Owen whispers and his forehead was resting on top of my head, and I could feel some of his tears fall. 

- But he said he can't be 100% sure ... - The thought takes over my mind, thinking that the worst could happen still haunted me. 

- Shh, don't think about it. - He put one of his hands on my cheek and then makes eye contact with me. - She will survive, she is a Grady, and the Grady don't die easily, look at us, we have survived attacks by dinosaurs, twice. 

I laugh at what he said, and a few more tears escaped my eyes, I couldn't understand how the hell I still managed to have so many tears. 

- How can you be so sure it's her? What if it's a boy? - I asked him when I wiped my tears.

- Shh, don't question my fatherly instincts. - It makes me laugh even more. 

- Hey, I'm the one who is pregnant, I'm the one who should have maternal instincts about what gender is. - I playfully tap his shoulder, and he laughs too. 

- Since you say, then tell me, what do you think it will be? - Owen shrugged before taking my hand again.

- Hmm ... I don't know, there is a 50% chance of being a girl and a 50% chance of being a boy, besides that in the future we don't know if he or she will feel the same way they was born and…

- Ok, ok, ok, got it, you don't know. - He laughed when I hit him on the shoulder and he raises his hands in defense. 

- My… uh… maternal instincts are still not strong enough to be sure. - I shrug, which makes Owen laugh again.  

- Okay, so let's do it like that, I bet 50 bucks that me and my fatherly instincts are right and it will be a girl. 

- Hum, do you want to bet now? - I raise my eyebrows at his proposal and cross my arms.

- Well, I need money to buy some beers for when we go to celebrate that I'm right. - He shrugs smiling and I laugh rolling my eyes.  

- Ok, ok, I accept the bet. - I talk giving my hand to him so we can close the bet. 

- You know you always lose them, don't you? - He chuckles, and still doesn't shake my hand. 

- I know, but I accept the bet. - I smile and he shakes my hand. 

- Then you can go saving the 100 dollars. 

- Hey! The deal was 50! - I tap him on the shoulder again making him laugh again, but then he takes my hands. 

- Are you sure? - Owen raises his eyebrows and I snort. 

- Yes, I'm sure, I'm pregnant, I'm not deaf or crazy. - He laughs at my sentence and kisses my hands.

- I'm kidding... it was actually 150. 

- Hey! - I can't believe how before I was crying desperately and now I was laughing, just him to be able to cheer me up at a time like this.

- Okay, okay, it'll be 50 bucks, and you better get ready to lose. - I roll my eyes and then look at the screen that had the image of our baby, and I can feel Owen's arm wrap around my shoulders and he lean his head against mine. - I swear with my life that I will take care of you and our baby, and that I love you both more than anything in the world, and nothing will change that. 

- Not even Claire? - I ended up returning to the subject, but I couldn't help it, I was still hurt because of that. 

- I swear y/n, what happened there meant nothing to me, because you are the only one for me, and nothing she does will destroy my love for you, understand?  

- Uhum. - I nod, with a single tear that insisted on falling, and then Owen holds my chin, looking into my eyes for a few seconds before we kiss deeply, at least until the doctor comes back and interrupts us. 

- Oh, well, sorry to disturb your moment, but if you don't mind, we'll have to do some more exams, so we'll take you to the room you were in earlier. - The doctor said and right behind him came nurses, who took me to the room, followed by the doctor and my husband.   

The doctor said that in addition to examining the embryo he needed to examine my other wounds, and see if I was all right, and because of that he put serum on me, collected blood samples, besides nurses came and made bandages on my injuries. I felt like crap to tell you the truth, and the only thing I wanted most was to take a shower, but the doctor wouldn't let me, at least for now, because he said I was still very weak, so I had better rest, and even if he hadn't said that, I think Owen would have stopped me saying the same thing. 

- You need to sleep. - Owen said to me, he was sitting next to me in the chair next to the stretcher, and then he kissed my right hand that was intertwined with his, and he puts his free hand over my hand that was resting on my belly. 

- You too. - I spoke in a hoarse voice, maybe it was the sleep that was hitting me little by little, or maybe it was because I cried and sobbed so much. 

- I will when you are. 

- Hum... you're stubborn. - I could feel my eyes getting heavy, but I wanted to keep them open so I could see his face, which smiled at me.

- Look who's talking. - I laugh lightly, I think we were both the most stubborn people on Earth.

- Would it be possible to turn off the lights, this is burning my eyes. - Owen chuckled before nodding and getting up to turn off the lights, soon returning to the same position as he was before. - Thanks.

- You're welcome. Good night y/n. - He kissed my forehead and then gave a sloppy kiss on my lips. 

- Good night Owen. - After closing my eyes, it wasn't long before I was in the world of dreams…  or rather, nightmares, because of course that after the nightmare I went through in real life, my mind couldn't miss the opportunity to haunt me.

A / n - Hey! Hello again! I think I wrote more than I expected, well, maybe I got a little excited hehe xD

And damn, I want to write the continuation of this chapter, but I also want to hold on and write the other things I need to write.

I don't know why, but as I wrote Doctor Briggs I saw his appearance as Benedict Cumberbatch xD

Anyway, I hope this was good and that you enjoyed it, don't forget to let me know if you have found any english error, or if something is very confusing, I always reread it several times, but I never know if something may have gone unnoticed. 

Until the next chapter! 

- Ina - 

Masterlist

[oz-corp-uplink-t]

Good evening. I figured it would be a good idea to describe our area in detail, both the one we're in now and the one from whence we came. This will be in chronological order, from first discovered to most recently discovered. I hope you all don't mind the formality. This is simply how I normally converse, and I do not see any reason to be any more or less formal than normal.

--Homeworld: GemsGoldia--

Our Homeworld was a unique one, compared to the more Earthly planets of most other universes. It was an entire planet made of crystals and gems, and the general climate of an area depended on the gemstone that comprised the most of an area. Green Emerald areas were usually perfectly warm, red Ruby areas were much hotter and had a tendency to contain magma geysers, blue Sapphire areas were more or less frozen wastes, and a few other, more unnatural climates, such as constant lighting storms over yellow variants of gemstones, and complete and utter darkness in Obsidian areas.

When I first appeared here, I was the only one. I saw the Creator soon after, and he told me what I should do. The Creator's form in our worlds is quite odd, actually. He's two hands and a head, and he tends to change size often, though he's always bigger than me. His hands have white gloves, and I'm certain I've seen they are connected to his head by fishing line or puppet strings. His head is just a black sphere with extremely triangular teeth and large, red eyes. It's more intimidating than it sounds.

Anyway, the factory/research lab we started with was already built when I showed up, along with quite a few houses, all made of the Emerald the ground was made of, and there were exactly enough for those that would appear soon after. There was an unfathomably gigantic generator in a basement within the factory, which I was told created an artificial atmosphere around the entire planet. Evidently, this was true, as it was destroyed in the destruction of the planet, and we have recorded several corpses of beings that need an atmosphere to survive.

--A strange new land: Mirrold--

I had escaped the destruction of GemsGoldia, and I had to find my way back alone. I went through several places, most of which seemed familiar and sparked... Memories, of past versions of myself. My first iteration looked similar to the creator, but I had a pale skin tone, my eyes were humanoid, my hair was green, and I had some nasty claws. I was a throwaway, used to add plot to a normal 'roleplay' (Which, as he told me, simply describes writing a story with more than one person, which I find to be an interesting concept) between good friends. I was to stop a wedding by killing the bride or groom, the bride being an original creation, from his friend, and the groom being another one of those... Skeleton characters. I think they called them Blueberry. I mortally wounded them, and was destroyed in revenge.

My next iteration was similar to the 000 model. I can't remember what I did as them, but I do remember that the Creator and his friend made fictional children for fictional versions of themselves. Apparently, this was my longest running form.

Then, we're at what I am now. A product of His creativity, depression from a long-passed break-up, of which he has told me was his own doing, and fantasies of escaping His world, and coming to ours. His mental state has left our world in ruin, and it seems like he may want this one to have a similar fate...

...Oh, right. I need to be talking about Mirrold. Forgive me, I tend to get far off-topic if I think about our home...

Mirrold is a mirror world, which I found in an apparently magical mirror in the ruins of GemsGoldia, which acted as a portal to here. This place consists of four islands and a deep pit under them, which we call Lower Mirrold.

--The glass shatters: Shatternia--

Shatternia is the only entrance to Mirrold that we know of. After you enter the mirror, you come out onto a catwalk suspended above Lower Mirrold, which looks like pitch blackness. This catwalk ends at a concrete building, where the Brokem, Ozwald, and Cordial base models reside. This is at the southernmost area of the island. To the west of this, there is a thick forest with various weak monsters within. The foliage on this island is always colored in a mix of reds and blues instead of the normal green you'd expect. To the north of the building, there is a toxic lake, and a bridge leading to a canyon with a large gate at the end, leading to the only town in the area, Shardini. If you go east from the building, there is a tram station, which connects to the next island over, and allows for transport between them. North of this is a mansion under constant snowfall, which is reminiscent of the home the Creator had imagined being in when with their friend. The Creator put a copy of his past self, specifically from the period of major depression over his relationship, in Mirrold, and they occasionally show up at this mansion and cry to themselves. They are hostile to any trespassers, but reminders of this failed relationship will stop them in their tracks.

I do recall, now that I think of it, there was another skeleton who became partially Corrupt, but never fully turned, and who lived with the models in the concrete building. Actually, they may have been an alternate version of Blueberry. I think the models that live there called them "Grape".

--A major downgrade: Junkedville--

It's much larger than Shatternia, but it's mostly empty desert. There is an exception: Salvagius. This is the one town in Junkedville, near the northern edge. Our factory rests at the northernmost point, and the rest of the place is houses and establishments made of sheet metal. The pub here is highly popular, mainly because it's impossible to die from overdrinking, as they add special ingredients that prevent death or impairments from extreme amounts, without lessening the actual enjoyment of it, including the drunkenness. This isn't completely effective, unfortunately, as you can tell from my entire workforce being in alchohol comas.

I did say that Shatternia was the only entrance, but that isn't completely true. In the factory, we are very capable of transporting people using the multiversal portals we have. We also considered opening them up to other creations for this uplink, but we aren't sure if it matters much anyway.

--Eternal war: Magicant--

Magicant is a small place, and there's not much left by now. Mages populated this place quite heavily before the Corruption followed us here. They have allied with us for the destruction of the Corruption, but they have blown half their island out of the sky trying to fight. There isn't much left to speak of...

--Mixed up anomaly: Lower Mirrold--

Lower Mirrold is... Difficult to understand. It's split into five sectors. These five sectors change randomly into portions of different worlds, bringing buildings, landscapes, and people with them into our own. This has caused many visitors to suddenly show up without intending to, and many strange scenarios where multiple characters and worlds combine in strange ways, causing strange situations. One we have documented in particular is still in progress, and the events until now are as follows.

1: Subject A ( Short/overweight/male, generally known as a thief, wears yellow and purple clothes, a cap with his first initial on it, and cyan eyeliner) receives a message from Subject B (Literally a fucking sponge) that proposes an exchange for taking B's job for a day in exchange for a stockpile of treasure. Subject A accepts, drives into ocean and finds Subject B's workplace.

It should be noted these two should not have known each other at all.

2: Subject A falls asleep on the job, establishment burns down. Subject A flees and finds stockpile. Subject B fires a nuclear bomb at his neighbor to threaten the arsonist who burned down the establishment. Subject A is transported to an unknown location for approximately 7 hours, before Lower Mirrold shifts again and any further events cease.

We have reason to believe whatever's been happening here is still happening now, but we have been too occupied with everything else we can't be certain.

--Core of Corruption: Corrupti--

Not much is known of Corrupti, other than Sally currently resides there and controls the Corrupted from it's core. It rose from Lower Mirrold some time after the event above had ceased. We don't know what to do about it, all we know is that it's ruining everything we worked so hard to achieve, and that we must end it... But we do not know how.

------------------------------------------------------------

A few closing statements...

Firstly, I have been informed the Creator has documented the Lower Mirrold events mentioned above. I haven't been told where, though. Just that it's "On my tube", or something. If you happen to figure something out there, that would be helpful.

Second, I'm not completely certain the Creator has fully gotten over what happened with his relationship. I don't know if that's why he seems to be reluctant to help us, but either way I'm sure he'll figure himself out sooner or later. I hope, anyway.

Good night to you all. I hope you haven't forgotten us.

Oh, and to those of you in bad times, (lookingatyourox) just know your pain doesn't last forever, and all wounds can be healed with help and time. Also, do not try to end your pain early. It will only spreas your pain to others, and, if there is a place after life, give you a worse pain in your ghost.

...Sorry, if I'm being a bit too grim here. I'm in quite a grim mood, unfortunately. I think the Creator is, too.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Court Meeting

Next Chapter of Born Into the Wilds is here. Also, the Link to AO3.

Hadnissan words:

Galahkar = person of Galahd ohtahi triantafe = a type of rose native to Galahd with black petals. It's highly poisonous and even the smell can cause hallucinations. Aviosa linmuhru hes quäbehn. = one of the worst ways of cussing; literally: Damned dephs of the underneath. (Basically swearing by the place where the scourge comes from.) ahtri = spirit; umbrella term for everything from actual nature spirits to the presence of their ancestors mahir = mother; woman who raised me makti-oir = title of the person who leads others into battle; literally: Chieftain of the Hunt sinehär gisdrauht = Elder Storyteller

 The evening was murky and lukewarm as Nyx finally found Libertus, Crowe, Pelna and Luche occupying the usual table in that little outdoor eatery they all frequented regularly. They sat there, cups of something steaming hot with a bitter smell in front of them, and a platter of striped meat covered in what counted as a sorry excuse of edible seaweed in this city, between them. They had clearly been waiting for him.

 Without so much as a greeting or paying attention to his friends' curious faces he stole Libertus' cup, who only gave a token of resistance, and drank it down in two large gulps as he plopped down on the only free chair left. It scalded his tongue but he didn't really care. This hot the strong bitter-leaf tea was even semi-palatable. He was kind of put out, however, that it wasn't alcohol. Nyx set the cup down harder than he needed to, proceeded to lay his head on the table and groan pitifully. Bellowing laughter was his answer and if looks could kill every single one of his friends would be dead now.

 “Where's the alcohol?” he asked – more like whined but he would never admit to it – and forced himself to sit up when Pelna set a cup in front of him without a word. Had he mentioned that he was his favourite friend right now?

 Nyx took a sip from the cup – it was something that burned all the way down, cheap and Lucian – and as he finally looked up again, saw four faces in front of him with expressions ranging from exasperated to down right ready to strangle him. He resisted the urge to needle them a bit, if only to evade the dreaded subject for a few seconds more. They all stared at each other for a bit longer until Libertus made a noise at the back of his throat.

 “Shit, man. What by the Depths happened? The last time you looked at me like that...” he didn't finish the sentence and shook his head, clear worry in his eyes now.

 “It was a shit show from the very start,” Nyx forced himself to say and took another burning mouthful of the cheap alcohol. It tasted like piss. Or worse. He hadn't quite decided that yet.

 “It's the royal house of Lucis we're talking about here. What did you expect? Also, aren't you going to take that out?” Luche gestured at the left side of his head where the debtor's braid still hung, heavier than it had any right to be.

Nyx grimaced and tugged at it. “Have to go back later.”            

Which was also the reason why he hadn't changed out of his service dress yet. Still, he finally shrugged out of the overcoat with its stiff collar and heavy black and grey fabric. Luckily what he wore underneath that was made of breathable fabric and light, even with its long sleeves, the black colour and the intricate silver embroidery on it. The latter a poor attempt at cultural acknowledgement. There was no rhyme nor reason to the patterns that would normally be carefully arranged in meaningful compositions mostly used on the northern islands. The most one could read out of it was 'Prosperity for Death' if one squinted and tilted the head just so.

 “What? Why?” asked Libertus and managed to sound indignant and put out at once.

 Nyx sighed and desperately tried to find an answer that didn't make everybody at the table explode. Well, if he hadn't found a way to break the news gently and without more drama than necessary on the way down from the citadel, he wouldn't find one now.

 “If you ever get invited into the King's private study be aware that a painting of the Conqueror King hangs there smack dab in the middle of the wall right behind the desk. It stares at you like it wants to kill you,” he started. This was the aspect of that awful meeting he could talk about without having the urge to jump over the railing into mess of piping below.

Their reactions were nearly funny, if this hadn't been such a sensitive subject for any Galahkar who still drew breath and especially for those who had lost family and friends to the Voice on the autumn storms. Libertus cursed up a storm, Crowe looked like she wanted to set something on fire and Luche had gone stone faced, his lips pressed into a hard line.

 “But why would the King do that?” asked Pelna, his eyes growing wide. “The Traitor King's portrait was taken down everywhere, safe for the Gallery of Kings, after the people learned what he did in Cleigne. So why not the Conqueror's? Is the King trying to invoke his spirit? We won't accept him, surely the King knows that.”

 “I really doubt that the Lucians invoke their ancestors for anything. Not with how fiercely they cling to the crystal and their Astrals. Especially Bahamut,” Luche said the Astral's name with an impressive amount of contempt.

 “I don't think he did it on purpose,” offered Nyx, not really believing he had just said that.

 “You defending that man again? I can't believe you, Nyx,” grouched Libertus and winced when Crowe kicked him in the shin under the table. Nyx hid his grin at that behind his cup. Libertus shot her a betrayed look.

 “Oh come on. You know exactly what that was for, you big oaf. Sometimes I can't believe you.”

 “I don't try to defend him, but I'm getting the feeling that there's much we know that he and all the other Lucians don't,” said Nyx and pushed the cup away from him, still more than half full.

It would be better, if he didn't drink too much alcohol right now. He had to meet with the King again in a few hours and he didn't want to be tipsy or worse, drunk, then. Instead he forced himself to eat something. Like he had expected, the seaweed didn't taste all that good, but it was edible enough. Libertus stared at the platter like it had personally offended him.      

 “They really don't know all that much,” nodded Pelna. “Not with how they all write it down in ten different ways and then argue which of those is the true one.”

 “Of course they don't. They're hiding behind their walls and all like they could solve all their problems,” grumbled Libertus and proceeded to quietly complain about the food. The only reason he did so quietly was that this time the meat was better than the last time they had had this specific dish.

 Luche leaned forward a bit, his face still serious where the others, including Nyx, had started to relax a bit in the face of old and well trodden arguments. “That's not all there is, isn't it?”

 At once all eyes were on Nyx again. He chewed slowly to buy himself more time, but it didn't help one bit to bring some kind of order to the chaos swirling in his head. He didn't even want to think about it. About how the King thought he could be his brother. Which he most certainly wasn't.

 Probably.

 Fuck, why did this have to happen to him?

“Eos to Nyx. Has the ohtahi triantafe stolen your mind this time?” asked Crowe while waving a hand in front of his face.            

 Nyx flinched and stared. “There's not any growing around here,” he said.

 It hadn't been his fault that he had fallen into a bush of them once as a teenager when he had been dared to free climb a steep part of the cliff near his home village. That slateroc had startled him! How was he supposed to have known that those damned roses had grown there and made him hallucinate the weirdest shit? She stared at him like he was stupid, which in this situation was rather justified to be honest.

 “Whatever happened, it's made you really out of it,” said Libertus in this non-request to talk to him, he usually did when he thought that things were getting serious.

“It's...” he sighed and carded a hand through his hair. “Aviosa linmuhru hes quäbehn.”

 Pelna nearly spat his drink over the table, jerking comically in his seat, and next to Nyx Libertus choked on his spit. Crowe just raised her eyebrows and Luche was the kind of blank he got when he carefully restrained himself from doing something he considered beneath him.

 “It must have been quite something,” stated Crowe at last when everybody had themselves back under control. Including Nyx who felt the irrational urge giggle. Damn his non existent alcohol tolerance.

 “You can say that again,” he muttered.

 “Out with it, Nyx. And I swear, if you try to give me a heart attack again, I will throttle you,” threatened Libertus and stared at Nyx like he wanted to read his mind.

 “It's not my fault you've got such a weak heart, big guy,” Nyx grouched half heartedly and sighed again. His shoulders slumped and he slouched in his seat, which was probably the only reason the others didn't say anything this time. “I got called to the King because of the magic thing I have. Apparently Lucians think that 'true independent' magic is only found in two families in all of Eos.”

 “Wait, really? That's ridiculous,” said Crowe full of indignation but didn't bother to elaborate. Everybody in the whole Glaive knew her views on magic and the Lucians' habit of ignoring the more subtle things it was able to do.

Nyx made a gesture that clearly said you're telling me? while he pulled himself upright again. He was an Ulric, damn it, and he would act like one. Even if – if – the King's suspicions turned out to be true he had earned that name. Lived by it and its values most of his life. His mother had named Ilias Ulric his father and the man had accepted him as his son. That was all that counted, was important, should be important to him. His ancestors, those that guided him and had a part in making him the man he was today, were the Ulrics and not the Lucis Caelums. But why then, if he knew that with absolute certainty, did he have a bitter taste in his mouth?

 “I think we already established that Lucians have no idea about the things that are actually important,” stated Luche.

 “Yeah, but where do they think all of the attributes the flora and fauna showcase come from? How do they think do killer bees turn the pollen they collect into poison when they feel threatened?” Crowe spoke like the Lucians' ignorance had personally offended her.

Maybe it actually does, Nyx thought, at least where magic is concerned.            

Before the Fall of Galahd Crowe had made a large portion of her money hunting down the nests of the bigger bee species', and harvesting their honey. It was very dangerous work but the honey had great medical properties, not to mention it tasted good, so it was well worth it, if one wasn't stupid enough to aggravate the insects.            

 “Anyway,” said Nyx to get them back on track again. Before this dissolved into a discussion of the magical properties of nature and the spirits that lived within it. Once Crowe got started, it was hard to get her to stop. “The King thinks I may be a Lucis Caelum bastard.”

 There. He had said it. For a few seconds there was disbelieving silence, before bellowing laughter sounded from the people around the table for the second time this evening. Even Luche couldn't suppress an amused chuckle.

“Ahtrii, Nyx. Everybody who knows about the Ulrics knows that you're one of them and nothing else. You embody everything they are, down to your reckless possessiveness. Even I know that and I don't come from the same island as you,” said Pelna still gasping for breath and rubbing tears of laughter from his eyes.            

 Nyx would never admit it to anybody but at that statement he felt something deep within him relax. His magic sparked again and he felt the urge to drape himself all over the darker skinned man and purr. He bit his tongue and kept his lips tightly shut to not start purring right then and there.

 “Nyx,” said Libertus and patted him on the shoulder in a comforting way, “even if... you know, this happens to be true, the Lucii, or whatever they call them, are not your ancestors, you realize. You earned your name the same way everybody else who does, did. Well, not really, but you know what I mean. The only people from beyond the gate who have any influence over you are the Ulrics and those deadbeat Kings can natter on all they want. It's not like their own descendants are listening.”

 “Thanks, Libs,” murmured Nyx and sent his hunting brother weak smile.

 This meant more to him than he had thought it would. A warm feeling grew in his chest until it was a little sun behind his sternum. He loved these people with all his being and he would do everything in his power to protect them. That he swore by the ancestors he had chosen and that had chosen him, by the Great Coeurl who had made it so and by the spirits of Galahd who still connected all of them. He had sworn it so before but this time it left the taste of magic on his tongue that gave it a different kind of gravity.

 “I can't quite wrap my head around it. What does the King hope will happen if Nyx turns out to be his... relation?” Pelna looked at Nyx for information after a long moment of silence.

 “Brother,” he said and nodded towards Luche in thanks who put down a cup full of bitter-leaf tea in front of him. In this eatery it was the only Galahdian thing one could drink that actually tasted genuine. But maybe the reason for that was that even under normal circumstances bitter-leaf tea tasted like shit.

 “Brother,” Pelna repeated and paused. “That's quite the age gap, though.”

 “So, Mors Lucis Caelum. The guy who pulled the Wall back from encompassing all of Cavaugh to just surround Insomnia,” said Crowe with a frown on her face.

 “Why do you know that?” asked Libertus.

 “How do you know that?” asked Luche at the same time.

 The mage shrugged. “I make damn sure to blame the right people for shit they've done. Otherwise it just gets messy.”

 There was a flicker in Luche's eyes that was gone as fast as it had appeared. Nyx had no time to think about it because Pelna started speaking at that moment: “He's also the first Lucian King since the Wanderer King who personally came to Galahd. Not sure if he was just that careless or had balls of steel.”

 “Lucis always thought of Galahd as a full part of their territory, even if all we did was pay our taxes sometimes and they did nothing for us. With that it's not surprising that he walked into Galahd like he owned it. Lucis, especially the Lucis Cealums always had a special kind of arrogance.” Luche said this with carefully projected carelessness that Nyx didn't buy and neither did the others, if the looks they shot each other was any indication.

A thought practically hit Nyx over the head. He choked and nearly started to swear to the Gates of Death and back again. “The King thinks mahir slept with his father.” He didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

“No shit. Your mahir would've sooner clobbered that Mors over the head with one of her smithing hammers than let herself be touched by him,” guffawed Libertus.

 Crowe snorted and nodded and Nyx couldn't help but agree. His mother would have never accepted a Lucian in her bed. Not after what a Lucian hunter had done to her sister when she had gone looking for Solheimr ruins on the mainland. Alyxa Utris had been resentful like that.

 “Lucian Kings have never struck me as overly intelligent,” mumbled Pelna and put another piece of meat into his mouth.

“It's not like the King knew mahir,” Nyx couldn't help but point out. Not that he knew that for certain since the King had been in Galahd for the second to last leg of fighting they had done there and she had been purely a weapons smith by that point, but he would never have come to this outrageous conclusion if he had.            

 “That's only part of why I doubt their intelligence and I didn't even know your mother for more than two weeks,” said Pelna after swallowing. “It's also the abhorrent state of our supplies and equipment. Our radio sets are too old and too susceptible to hacking because of it.”

 “Haven't you told Drautos?” Libertus wanted to know.

 “Of course I did! Drautos said he would talk to the General and the King about it, but until now nothing has happened.”

 “When did you talk to him?” asked Luche, his eyes suddenly intense.

 “A few weeks ago. I wanted to speak to him again about it but then that mission happened and until now I haven't had the chance to do so.”

 “I'm supposed to meet with him tomorrow. I'll talk to him.”

 “Thanks, Luche.” Pelna smiled in gratitude.

 Nyx couldn't help but frown. “Something about this stinks to the Lows and back.”

 “You're telling me? No offence Luche, but why was Pelna's Unit the one to infiltrate the compound and not Sonitus'? His is the stealth unit,” asked Crowe, her gestures wide and jerky.

 “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Crowe,” Said Pelna with a grin.

 “Oh, you know what I mean.”

 Luche made a face. It looked like he was fighting with himself, trying to decide what to say. “Those were the orders. I couldn't simply ignore them.”

 “Know what? Fuck those orders! Next time we're doing things our way. The Lucians have no idea how to execute a proper hunt. It's no wonder they're losing ground by the day with those crap orders. Not even our best hunters can balance that out.” Libertus nearly exploded in outrage when he said that.

 “That's coming very close to treason,” stated Luche, but there was something in the way he said it that didn't make it sound like an admonishment.

 Libertus ground his teeth but didn't say anything.

“To do anything effectively, short of a Great Hunt, which we can't simply call, we would need a makti-oir,” Pelna said slowly like he was tasting each word out in his mouth.            

“We would need to talk to our people about it and without the sinehär gisdrauhtis on our side it would be a lost cause before we would have even started. And if it comes to a vote, it won't be subtle,” added Nyx. The Gil had already been tossed, so why not add a little more spin to it?

 Luche carded both hands through his hair. “I cannot believe we're seriously talking about this.”

 “It's better than more of us dying because they can't get things sorted out correctly,” shrugged Crowe, a dark look on her face. No doubt she was thinking about the training ground incident again.

They all fell into a thoughtful silence, considering this insane idea for its merits and flaws. Nyx wondered what would happen if they actually managed to do all this. Vote for a makti-oir and then tell the Lucians they would from now on hunt the proper way. He didn't imagine it would go over overly well.            

 The ringing of his phone broke the silence. He jerked in surprise and hurried to fish it out of his coat pocket.

 “Ulric speaking,” he said in Lucian for the first time he had sat down, his accent thicker for it. He already knew who it was.

 “Good evening, Sir Ulric. The test results are here. Please come back to the citadel at your earliest convenience. The guards will let you through to his Majesty's private study without issue,” said General Leonis, sounding just a tad impatient.

Translation: Be there at once.          

 “Of course General,” Nyx answered and wondered what had crawled up the General's ass now as he hung up without another word. Had there been some kind of noise in the background? He wasn't quite sure.

 He nodded towards his friends as he stood up and put on the coat again. “I'll see you later guys.”

 A chorus of good-byes sounded after him – Libertus, the ass, yelled the traditional words of the Last Journey – as he trudged up the stairs towards what felt like a funeral.

[go-diane-winchester]

Misha Collins cant keep track of his own lies.

Misha ''I was a homeless kid' Collins was interviewed by an art magazine, because apparently he is very artsy fartsy.  Whilst given the opportunity to speak about his supposedly favoritist subject: himself, Misha couldn't  remember all the fallacies he had spouted over the years.  I guess Misha figured his mostly underage, deranged fanbase might be too busy, furiously fingering themselves to badly written fanfiction, to actually read something from an intellectual source.  Something tells me that, just like in the mugging case, this reporter wasn't quite buying his lies.  Here are some of the highlights, with Misha's self-indulgent rambling in italics, and with my running commentary in bold [the interviewer is in bold italics]:

''Like most kids, I liked making things with my hands, and my mother helped facilitate this when I was pretty young. But I followed that impulse to an apprentice-level devotion. I would seek out woodworkers when I was 10 or 11, going into shops and learning how to use a lathe or – just asking. I grew up in western Massachusetts, and by the time I got into high school I was fully into this – just talking to people and learning things from them in person.''

So his hippy, drug addict mom who stashed pot down her youngest child's underwear for fear of being arrested, and who, for a short time, raised poor Misha in a car, honed his artistic skills when he was pretty young?  When?  When they were living in the woods?  And using a bowl of ice as a refrigerator?  So either his story of his childhood is greatly exaggerated or....yeah, that's all I got.  How gullible does he think people are?

Then in high school, I needed a job, so I started doing some manual labor.

So whilst at his elite private school, where there are rich dads and moms dropping off their darlings every morning, Misha chooses manual labor.  He likes to talk to people but he didn't speak to Mr and Mrs Moneybags?  He could have been a petty gopher in one of their companies and fared better.  After all, he needed a job.  I wonder why he chose ''manual labor''?  And why he chose to word it like that, instead of saying ''I became a carpenter's apprentice''.  I guess it sounds honorable.  That's is nothing dramatic about  saying that you flip burgers at McDs.  Saying that you work in a menial, underpaid job for a multimillion dollar company, does have a more dramatic feel to it. 

I built that barn on my mother’s property. Our house had burned down, so with the insurance proceeds, we built that and...

Wait, wasn't Misha's mom a pothead who lived in a car for some time with her two children?  Now, not only does she have property but she has the money to pay for insurance.  When did you live in the car, Misha?  When the house burnt down?  Why didn't you live in that house you showed footage of, on twitter?  Its a nice house, complete with Christmas stockings.  It doesn't quite gel with your underprivileged childhood narrative, but nice nonetheless.   

I worked a lot when I was in college, probably 30 hours a week most of the time. I did some handyman stuff, some carpentry stuff. After sophomore year, I took a year off. I interned at the [Clinton] White House, worked at NPR, became an EMT, started a summer camp for kids. It was a great year.

What is he?  A career whore?  So he was artsy fartsy, but he worked everywhere doing jobs that were unrelated to each other, instead of staying in his field of carpentry, and making money from that.  He got EMT certification.  Was it free?  Did he pay for it with his tuition fees?  What was the purpose of it, if making money for fees was of paramount importance?  That doesn't make sense, because if he was working 30 hour weeks, when did he have time to study?  The average work day is a tad longer, about 40 hours a week.  And if he was studying and working, when was Superman sleeping?  Why was he working so hard?  To put himself to college, don'tcha know.  Even though colleges offer student loans and don't accept their fees in installments.  And yet, he took time off for one year after sophomore.  Was it to make a lot of money for his tuition fees?  Nope, it was to become an EMT and start a summer camp for kids.  I guess summer camps are big business and you can pay off great debts if you start one.  Good to know.  His internment at the Whitehouse only lasted four months, and yet he has acquired all the knowledge there is to acquire, to become a political knowitall on twitter.  Sidenote:  Is it normal for internships at the Whitehouse to last, such a short time.  I am genuinely curious, because it doesn't sound right. 

This is where I think the interviewer started to sound like she was side-eyeing the wood working maestro and his yarns of tall tales.

After graduation you got into acting, and in 1999, you moved with Victoria to Los Angeles for film and television work. There, in 2001, you bought your first house. Tell us about it. You were a starving actor?

Yeah. Right after we bought it, our realtor said, “There’s a TV show that would like to shoot your house.” They brought this [house-hunting] couple through, and when we saw the episode, they had surveyed the house and were like, “We don’t want to touch this piece of s---.” It was a real wreck, had been seriously neglected. It was built in the 1920s, and built by people who weren’t carpenters, didn’t know what they were doing. It was built so poorly, and everything was sagging – the window frames, the eaves.

Can you believe that?  The starving actor bought a house.  Let that sink in.  He recognized that the house was built by non-carpenters [how was this building standing.  Twas a miracle, I tell you.]  And despite being a starving actor with a small amount of money, and a knowledge of carpentry, he bought a house that was badly built by non-carpenters.  So he knew he was buying a liability.  Why?

The kitchen floor you put in is beautiful. Yes, that’s gunstock, from a gun manufacturer in Northern California.

Mr Gun Free supporting the Gun manufacturing industry.  Man, this guy is a hypocrite. 

You lived in that first house for 11 years. Do you still own it? We rent it out to some lovely people who love it, so it’s good.

Fun fact:  Mr Humble Pie has two pieces of property.  And he is making money off of one, but he chooses to attend cons with the same torn T-shirts from years ago, or has to fleece off of Jensen's wardrobe and generosity, otherwise he would be doing his panels naked, poor thing.  Why doesn't he stop his cruises for a year, and use that money to buy decent threads?  One shirt can last a few years.  The lies are  embarrassing, but miraculously his minions believe him. 

On the way to this house, you became very successful with this hugely popular TV series. Life changed. Do you still manage to make time for handwork? 

Yeah. I’ve discovered that I really like working. Work can be respite for me, and switching gears is really key. Going from working on scripts to working with my hands is therapeutic, for sure. I am still managing to work with my hands. I was just doing some woodworking yesterday. I do a lot of cooking. That’s a big part of my life, and also I think a barometer of emotional health. When I’m not cooking, it’s a sign that I’m too stressed out and I’ve got to dial things back a little bit. I do a lot of canning. I put up 120 jars of blackberry jam this fall.

What an irony!  One of the greatest instigators of stress for his co-workers and their fans, gets stressed out himself.  Yeah, guilt can do that.  Plus, he likes quantifying accomplishments.  That is why Gish exists.  Quantity over quality. 

Which artists inspire you? I love Christo and Jeanne Claude, because of the mind-bending scale on which they’ve created things, like they’re rethinking what’s possible. I’m somebody who kind of likes to break rules, to bend rules when appropriate.

I could write a whole big post, on Misha's rule breaking and bending.  From stealing Whitehouse property [and bragging about it] to telling fans about the scratched line in the Crypt which got Jensen a barrage of abuse on Twitter.  The one thing that he spoke about that doesn't make sense is his story about almost getting arrested for reading a book on a building rooftop.  It makes no sense.  There is a portion of the story that is missing, I'm sure.  Misha is a great exaggerator.

Have you turned any Supernatural castmates on to craft? On a set, there’s tons of downtime, a lot of sitting and knitting and crocheting. And I have occasionally been in the mix there. Last year Jensen [Ackles], my co-star, walked up and saw me knitting, and he just looked at me and said, “Really?” But I could tell there was jealousy behind it, more than criticism. So I’ll teach him to knit, and it’ll be fine. We’ll get through this.

Will you look at that?  There are around 70 people on set at any given time.  Many of them must have seen Misha knitting.  And look who Misha decided to mention.  Was that a ''just in case, a nutty heller is reading this'' insertion?  No mention is made of Jared, because who cares about him, right?  Got to give the crowd what they want.  I am side eyeing the knitting claim myself, because I do knit and having seen a photo of him knitting, I can safely say that, that is not how you grasp at the yarn.  You knit with loose fingers because yarn is abrasive. 

The first big project we did with Random Acts was we built an orphanage and community center in Haiti. I would not have thought that was a tackle-able enterprise if I didn’t have a background in building.  Our biggest fundraising driver for the projects that we do – like building a school or an orphanage – is we bring folks down in groups of 25 or so to Haiti or to Nicaragua, and they help in the building process. We roll up our sleeves and get our hands dirty.

Wow, he built the 500K orphanage with his own hands, but didn't think about lights for the children.  His response regarding the lights was ''it's Haiti and it takes three f*cking years to get an electrician''.  Wow, I am a third worlder too, but we have electricians.  How backwards is Haiti that he couldn't find a single electrician in the whole country, to light the place up for the poor orphans?  He couldn't squeeze in one electrician in the group of 25 or so.  Are there no philanthropic electricians in his circles?  My word, electricians are such selfish people, don't you think?  They don't want to roll up their sleeves and get their hands dirty.  Why couldn't he just pay for one instead of waiting three years?  Fun fact:  According to their website, the orphanage, aka, the Jacmel children's center houses only 15 children, but another page says there are 27 children living in the house.  They don't know how many children they are looking after.  But that is still a small amount.  So where did all these kids go?

Misha either staged this picture with school kids on an excursion or all those kids got adopted by the staggeringly high quantity of rich couples living in Haiti, right Misha?  SMH

This question made me smirk.  The interviewer had to know Misha has never been to public school.  Look how Mr Bleeding Heart answers the question.

As we know, art programs in K-12 public schools these days are in decline, especially shop class, manual arts. How can we nurture creativity in kids, and why is that important? When I was 9 years old, I had a paper route. One day my younger brother and I were collecting money, and Mr. Haigis answered the door. He started talking to us, and he discovered that our parents were separated, and we didn’t live with our father. In the 1960s, he had run a woodshop for little kids. He had stopped doing it because he got busy with his career. Now he was retired. These two boys show up delivering papers on his front stoop, and it just comes to him: “I’ve got to do the same thing for those kids.”

So Mr Haigis left all the poor, underprivileged children and decided to help these two boys who were going to an elite school?  Sounds legit.  What about public school children, Mr Haigis?  Don't you care about them?   

I was a starving actor for at least a decade.

Misha was a starving actor who worked on 24 projects before getting SPN, but he still managed to buy a house.  Fun fact:  he was an  associate producer on a docu-movie, ''Loot'' which won best documentary at the LA film festival.  His movie didn't need sock puppets to win this one.  Misha should produce more.  That way he wont be on screen, festering up the frame.  The less we see of him, the better. 

http://www.jacmelchildren.org/about/team/

http://www.jacmelchildren.org/

https://craftcouncil.org/magazine/article/builder-baker-angel-maker

[mst3kproject]

1109: Yongary: Monster from the Deep

 The first time I saw Yongary was when I was on a Kaiju Eiga binge over Christmas break one year.  It was on YouTube, with the sound removed for copyright infringement, and no subtitles.  At the time, this didn’t bother me much.  I thought I’d seen enough weird monster movies that I could guess what was going on from the visuals.  It turned out I really couldn’t.  Even now that I’ve seen it with sound, I’m still not sure what happened in this movie.

Korea’s top astronaut has just gotten married when he’s called off to a space emergency – somebody is testing bombs in the middle east and they need a guy in space to watch it.  The bombing causes earthquakes that cross the globe until they reach Korea, where the ground cracks open to reveal, what else? An oddly rubbery and humanoid monster!  Yongary proceeds to devastate the land, as oddly rubbery and humanoid monsters do, feeding on oil and taking an occasional nap, until the astronaut’s very much younger brother (I think) Icho and future brother-in-law (again, I think) Ilo discover its one weakness: itching powder.

So yeah, there’s a lot to unpack here.

If Yongary has a visual aesthetic, it’s empty pockets and boundless enthusiasm.  The production appears to have had very little money and they spread it very thin, resulting in effects that are shoddy and unconvincing across the board… and yet, the people who created them went all-out, absolutely determined to wring every last jeon out of their budget.  The monster suit never looks like anything but a monster suit, but they never shy away from showing it.  The model cities are large and elaborate, even as they lack detail or realistic lighting. Shots showing earth from space look like a seventh grade science fair project.  The matte shots are bad.  The itch ray is just light reflected onto things with a mirror.  It all looks terrible, but their hearts were in it.

Unfortunately, not half so much effort appears to have gone into the script, which wanders from character to character in a series of events that are connected only by the monster, and sometimes only barely.  A number of things are set up as if they’re going to be very important and then are simply dropped, leaving the impression that they were only there to fill time.

What, for example, is the point of the space sequence?  They drag the astronaut (whose name I never caught in the movie, and IMDB is no help) away from his honeymoon to observe this nuclear test.  Some kind of failure on the spaceship, perhaps related to said test, puts him in danger but after much worry he reaches the ground safely.  Wow!  Our hero is a great pilot with nerves of steel!  Surely this will be very important later.  Maybe he will be called to do something dangerous to defeat the monster!  Maybe something he saw from space, while he was out of touch with the ground, will be key to saving the day!

Uh, no.  He’s not even in the rest of the movie, really, and we certainly never hear tell of the space program again.  As far as I can tell, the only purpose to any of this was establishing the nuclear test (because everybody knows those create monsters) and then trying to have some tension before Yongary actually emerges.  The whole sequence was filler.

Then there’s the itching ray, which first appears in the hands of little Icho as he plays a prank on the newlyweds.  Exactly why Ilo has invented an itching ray, I don’t know.  Was it intended to do something else and just ended up being itchy?  When Icho swipes it again to use on Yongary, I figured maybe a souped-up itch ray would turn out to be what kills the monster but again, no.  The itching ray doesn’t even set up anything important. I think it’s foreshadowing that itching is Yongary’s weakness, but the ray has nothing to do with the chemical allergy that brings the monster down, besides manifesting a similar symptom.

The fact that itching appears in the movie in more than one context probably makes it a motif.  Why, out of all the possible themes and symbolism you could put in a movie, the makers of Yongary chose itching, I have no idea.  Perhaps it represents something below the surface trying to break free, like the monster itself?  If that’s the case, then it’s fitting that the source of the itching is always externally imposed: the ray and Yongary’s allergy induce itching, and the nuclear test makes the earth ‘itch’ so that Yongary breaks out.  Whether this means anything deeper than that, I honestly cannot say.

Itching brings us to Icho.  I’m pretty sure Icho is the actual main character of this story.  He’s there at the beginning, he’s there at the end, and he’s the one who realizes what the monster’s weakness is.  He even has a bit of an arc, I guess… he’s nothing but an insufferable brat at the beginning of the film, and while he continues to be bratty throughout he does develop a more mature outlook, coming to understand the need for Yongary’s destruction while still feeling sorry for the monster.

Icho is clearly supposed to have some kind of emotional bond with Yongary, but this is completely one-sided and even less justified than Kenny’s supposed friendship with Gamera.  Whereas Gamera saved Kenny from falling to his death, I don’t think Yongary ever even notices Icho – which is probably all for the best, since Icho is doing things like turning off his food supply and zapping him with itching rays.   Icho’s defense of Yongary is also a little more realistic than Kenny’s of Gamera. He never insists that Yongary is good and gentle, only that the monster didn’t mean to hurt anybody.  This is probably true.  Yongary is not presented as a creature with a personality or intentions, he is merely a force of nature, doing what giant rubber monsters do.  He does not seem capable even of understanding that he is causing suffering.

What’s kind of interesting about this is that it makes it clear that Gamera, rather than Godzilla, was the primary inspiration for Yongary.  The monster emerges as a result of a nuclear bombing that is never mentioned again. It eats oil and is strengthened by fire. Annoying little kids like it for no readily apparent reason.  As an attempt to create a Kaiju franchise in 1967, when the genre was already well-established, it was probably inevitable that Yongary would look like a ripoff of something, but the choice of Gamera for a model seems particularly weird when we consider the ending.  At the end of Gamera, the monster was sent to Mars where he would presumably continue to live without bothering humanity.  This is pretty cool and appeals to children.

In Yongary, the monster dies of internal bleeding while Icho watches.  This doesn’t seem to have bothered Icho but it sure disturbed Jonah and the bots, and once I saw it in a context where I understood what was happening, it made my jaw drop, too.  When I think back on the deaths of monsters in Kaiju Eiga, they tend to be fairly quick affairs: in Godzilla, King of the Monsters, the oxygen-destroyer pretty much instantly skeletonizes things.  Even bad-guy monsters tend to die or be driven off in one final blow or finishing move, as when Gamera throws Gaos into the volcano.  When the monsters visibly suffer, like Gamera with the baby Jiger inside him, or Anguirus when Godzilla rips his tongue out, it’s shocking and unpleasant.  Maybe this is because we think of these movies as being for children, or perhaps it’s the unavoidable anthropomorphic shape of the creature suits.  Whatever the reason, Yongary’s death is a major tonal departure and the ‘happy ending’ that follows it makes it even weirder.

I know basically nothing about the geography of Korea, but people who do have apparently written a great deal about how important the landscape is to Yongary.  According to critic Steve Ryfle, Yongary emerges in the northern part of Korea, near where the Korean Armistice Agreement was signed in 1953 – this makes him perhaps symbolic of aggression from the north, marching inexorably down the peninsula towards Seoul.  Korean critic Kim Songho noted that Yongary destroys the old Seoul Capital building, a symbol of the Japanese occupation of Korea before and during World War II (the building was knocked down in the 90s for this reason).

Using your giant monster to make a political statement, particularly an anti-war or anti-colonial one, is nothing new, but I don’t think the makers of Yongary intended a unified one by this.  The two political messages in the landscape seem opposed to each other: one paints Yongary as a semi-foreign force of aggression, the other as a native being destroying a symbol of foreign aggression.  This isn’t a problem for me, the non-Korean viewer, and the two ideas work fine when they’re each considered in isolation, but they do speak to the overall lack of unity in the script.

That lack of unity is probably the biggest single obstacle to enjoying Yongary for what it is, rather than the ironic amusement people like me get out of bad movies.  The jarring ending, the space program that is set up and then not used, and the inconsistent symbolism all make Yongary: Monster from the Deep feel like something assembled from parts rather than being a coherent whole.  All movies are made by committees, but a good movie shouldn’t feel like it was.

[colllapsingstarr-blog]

giant panic reclist (organized by ship)

So, I organized everything by ship because you never know what people are into, and I read pretty much anything and everything I can get my hands on that’s long. This is a fanfiction reclist for Panic! at the Disco fics only. Will I ever address other bands? Perhaps. Everything’s below the break.

Note: I have not read every Panic! fic in existence. Cut me some slack here if your absolute favorite isn’t on this list, and if it’s NOT please send it to me, I’d love to read it!

I’ll be including poly ships in the next list, because this list is long enough as it is. If I were to add poly ships, we’d be here all day.

Let’s start with the popular ones, shall we?

Format: Title by Author (click for story) | Rating, Word count, Author’s summary | Personal thoughts

If a link is broken/incorrect, please let me know. That stuff’s embarrassing.

Fics may or may not require an AO3 login (as I have an account, so I don’t know which are locked and which aren’t). Any fics hosted on LiveJournal (noted with a * at the start of the title) do not require a login, as far as I’m aware, because I don’t have a LiveJournal.

Ryden

- Sense of Touch by pressdbtwnpages | G, 5434, Brendon and Ryan turn into otters, but that's just the beginning of the problem. | It’s been a while since I’ve read this story (I did, once upon a time.) I don’t remember much, but this is pretty much absolutely hilarious.

- Just One of the Girls by skoosiepants | T, 20830, "Spence, I'm. Look, I'm going to prove this girl-thing to you, okay? I'm going to," he held up his hands, "this is so brilliant, I'm going to become a girl." | I actually really enjoyed this fic. It was interesting to see all the different interactions, and the way that it actually sort of all comes together in the end.

- for other meanings of tsunami by jocondite | T, 36352, On the Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour, Brendon comes up with a brilliant, brilliant plan to get regular orgasms without resorting to the palpitating groupies Zack disapproves of. Sure, he's never thought of himself as gay, but blowjobs know no gender, and if Ryan's willing, why the hell not? The path to true Nirvana is anything but smooth, though, and a lot of bad sex later, Brendon figures a few things out. | This speaks for itself, I’m pretty sure. This is a reclist. I’m soft for long fics.

- You Will Know The Difference When I Touch You by two_waymirror | E, 5348, It wasn’t a gay thing at first. Well, it was possible that Brendon had a tiny little crush on Ryan, but it was a buried thing in the back of his still-half-Mormon brain, emerging very slowly. | Not as long as most of my favorites, but still well-written.

- A Light On a Hill by rubblerousing | T, 17918, My greatest flaw is that I keep a running list of eight separate sentences that I, at one point in my life, have spoken aloud and which could have, maybe, possibly, embodied within them the reason Ryan Ross has decided to hate me. Some people’s greatest flaws are their overly prominent features. Some people would tell me my greatest flaw should be my overly prominent features. My friends would say my greatest flaw is that I am too outspoken; people who are under the delusion they are my friends but in actuality are not would say my greatest flaw is that I am too reserved. Maybe it’s the other way around. If I were a better person and could admit I probably very dearly ought to be under the watchful eye of a psychiatrist, because I have some kind of obsession with thinking about things too much, and with keeping lists, then my psychiatrist would say my greatest flaws are cowardice, being unable to move on from the past, an addiction to adulation, keeping lists, and perhaps Ryan Ross, if I ever got around to mentioning him. | I’m not a big fan of first person POV fics in general, no matter if it’s in irl books or in fanfiction, but here it just...works? I don’t know. Read it for yourself.

- Anyone Else But You by zarah5 | M, 67238, College AU. Panic never formed at high school. Instead, they meet at college, and in between striking up a friendship with his working colleague Spencer and trying to ensure that his roommate Jon doesn’t get sick of him, in between forming a band and writing songs, Brendon would really appreciate it if his bandmate (and Spencer’s best friend) Ryan Ross didn’t turn out to be Brendon’s TA. Especially considering their fling just before the start of the term. | You may or may not have read this already. This fic is worth rereading, though.

- Leaving Without Moving by northern | E, 29874, "I'm not trying to embarrass you or anything here. But seriously, I'm just trying to make things clear - what you want is to be my own personal little toy, is that it? You want to be my pet in the... pet sense?" “Not if you're not interested," Ryan gritted out, hot with shame. "You can stop making fun of me now. That was fucking hard to say." He rested his head on his arms, feeling weak and slightly nauseated with how his stomach was churning. | Not a fan of vampire AUs, ordinarily. I’m okay with blood, but for some reason vampire AUs aren’t my thing. However, I was willing to make an exception for this fic and I’m glad I did, because even though it isn’t my normal pick of AU, it’s really well-written. 

- A tendency to wear hearts on sleeves by kyasuriin | G, 1758, A guitar is perhaps not something that friends, even bandmates, get for each other. Brendon just hopes Ryan won't notice the way his heart is practically falling off his sleeve. | Um. Don’t have much to say on this one?

- The Heart Rate of a Mouse by arctic_grey | Not including stats | Well-known. Don’t need to say anything. Loved this fic.

- Oh Doctor Doctor by softlyforgotten | E, 17269, It was just that on his first day in the oncology department of the hospital six years ago, he'd been introduced to Dr Ryan Ross, Head Surgeon, and fallen stupidly and irrevocably in love with him, and that, apparently, was that. (A hospital AU.) | The title reminds me of Razia’s Shadow, so when I saw this it was an instant click. Love how this fic isn’t just about the relationship (despite the implications of the summary); there’s more to it.

- *Back To The Place by behindthec | E, around 93000, Once upon a time, Panic went to a cabin in the mountains to write an album they never made. One night there, something happened that Ryan tried to forget. Two years later, he still hasn't. | I have. No words for this fic. It is just that good. I know that the primary site for fanfiction is AO3, and a lot of fics are cross-posted (I tried to find what I could on AO3, because on some I have the LJ version bookmarked), but consider trying out a different format for reading. It’s a little annoying, but this fic makes it so worth it.

- *Ryan Ross: Wedding Planner (What We Do Is Love) by adellyna | M, Unknown, Ryan plans weddings! Just not gay weddings. Ok, maybe just this once. | Hilarious one-shot. Like. This is serious fic, but also very, very funny.

- *just this once, be my savior by sinuous_curve and insunshine | E, around 32k, In which Ryan has a daughter, Brendon has a nephew and somehow, they manage to fall in love. | Kid!fic.

Brallon

Doing this reclist made me realize exactly how few fics I read with just this pairing. I normally read the two of them with someone else in a poly ‘ship, but not the two of them by themselves? (send me some. please)

(I actually have read one I liked, but I’m too lazy to dig it up. The title was something in French, I think.)

Brencer

This pairing is a hard preference over most other pairings. I just. Like it a lot.

There are probably more fics on this list than there are in any other ship I include on this list.

- There Should Be A Name For Something Like This by skoosiepants | T, 3777, It was the best idea Brendon had ever had, ever. | Sometimes I read things because they’re long and have a good summary, and other times I just want a laugh. This is one of those fics.

- Supersaturation by skoosiepants | T, 15017, Brendon's a little in love with Lieutenant Spencer Smith. And not, like, fifteen-year-old girl love, either, but the kind of love where his chest hurts and he wants to be around him constantly and he wants into his pants, and okay. It pretty much sounds like fifteen-year-old girl love, but it's not, no matter what Ryan says. Spencer is just. Pretty. And competent and, okay, the sidearm is totally sexy. He didn't think he'd ever go for that, but the handling of it, his hands, really, and the thigh holster? Makes Brendon want to lick him. A lot. | Not linking the whole series because I’ve only read the first two. Crossover with Stargate Atlantis, but I have absolutely no knowledge of that fandom, and I was perfectly fine.

- Certain Coasts Set Apart by skoosiepants | T, 15327, It was easier to get lost on the Virginian coast than Spencer thought it would be. | This is one of two Spencer-ends-up-isolated-from-Panic!fics that I love. Both of their plots are actually caused by similar catalysts, surprisingly.

- Anywhere You Let It Go by skoosiepants | T, 21211, "Okay, this is what I've figured out so far. I'm stuck in some sort of hell that looks vaguely like a Sandra Bullock movie." | Brencer is sort of a side pairing, but I’m still considering it because it drives the plot and isn’t just an aside for the main character (Patrick).

- the Sweater Vests series by disarm_d | E, 15709, (first work summary) Spencer can't believe himself for trying something like this. He can't believe that he'd risk his friendship with Brendon, his friendships with everyone else if Brendon decided to tell, his place in the school if Brendon caused enough fuss. Except that when Brendon's tongue brushes over his lower lip, it's easier to understand why. | British boarding school AU! Angst! Hurty, but in the good way.

- Towns Flying By by jocondite | T, 3976, Brendon is very much in love with the van. He draws a ragged row of little black hearts on the back door, just above where some girl in some town had scrawled her phone number. He loves it right up until the heat cuts out somewhere in the middle of Colorado that first November. (Cuddling for warmth). | Cute fluff.

- The Way It Is Now by skoosiepants | T, 5790, He ponders on how exactly to phrase his question. Finally, he sends, is spencer dying andor eating babies | This author is on this reclist a lot? Maybe, but they write excellent fic.

- The Magic Friend Band by skoosiepants | T, 9408, The totally true story of how Spencer Smith joined Patrick & Brendon's Magic Friend Band. | This author actually writes really funny stories. They’re enjoyable, but also have an underlying thread of seriousness.

- Once Upon a Time’s Only Fiction When Tomorrow Becomes Today by rossetti | E, 13344, The year Virginia Dale Wentz turns five her parents die in an accident aboard a chartered day-boat to Catalina. | Under Brencer because that’s endgame. Ryan/Spencer is a thing but only as friends with benefits. Kid!fic. Always adorable.

- In the Sirocco by sevenfists | M, 12241, A story about hypnosis, God, marijuana, and true love. | There are two hypnotism stories on this list. This is the more angsty one.

- Panic! at the Barn-Raising series by vixalicious | T, 20895, (first work) Um. They're Amish. | Sort of ridiculous but really also quite good.

- Tell me to stop by AirgiodSLV | E, 29335, “You have no idea what you’re doing, okay?” Ryan says in exasperation, blowing out a huffy breath. “I’m just saying. I think…I might know a guy.” | Warning: kink fic. I might be ace and don’t get off on it, but I can still appreciate it for what it is.

- But you can’t be missed by elenor_lavish | E, 20664, "No, I mean. It's like you haven't aged a single day." Ryan steals another glance, and Brendon looks uncomfortably out the window. The back streets of Vegas look a lot like he remembers them. The cars in the driveways aren't really different, people are still dressed the same, dragging their trash to the sidewalk in their pajamas. No one's in some sort of space-age suit or wearing a video visor, or walking a robotic dog. If Brendon was going to be dropped unceremoniously into the future without his consent, there could at least be robotic dogs. | Time travel fic! Um. This one is sort of weird, but it’s also really good.

- The Sweet Spot by vixalicious | T (though I think it’s closer to M), 14872, "Responsibility" should be Spencer Smith's middle name (except it's James). After all, not many people would sacrifice their lives to run the family bakery and raise their twin sisters. But now the girls are grown, and Spencer has to learn to put his own needs first! And Brendon, the Sweet Spot's newest regular, might just be what Spencer's looking for. But will Brendon's past get in the way of their present? | I’m pretty sure this was for the LJ challenge harlequin_bands, and it shows, but I’m into those tropes, so it’s all good.

- All In The Way That You Trip by skoosiepants | M, 22199, “I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, and he looks – Brendon shudders – he looks like he wants Brendon to stay quiet, like he’s just itching to take Brendon apart and maybe put him back together wrong. “Where is Ryan?” | I initially read this fic on LJ, so when I found out that it was also hosted on AO3, I was like: huh? But: secret agent!Spencer is a concept I can get behind.

- Personal Affairs by zarah5 | M, 31094, Office AU. When Spencer Smith is put in charge of planning some legal aspects of a top secret, rather spectacular take-over of another company, he quickly falls into an e-mail sort-of-flirtation with his colleague at another site, Brendon Urie. But when Brendon actually visits New York and Spencer for a face-to-face meeting, Spencer withdraws because how do you handle it when someone you exchanged countless e-mails with turns out to be just as hot as you imagined? | I am NOT qualified to make a reclist where I give my own thoughts, okay? This fic was really good, albeit the conflict was superficial.

- Only Unto Him by disarm_d | E, 25837, As a Prince(ish person), Spencer was meant to be pure in every way. He didn't know what to expect from an arranged marriage — but certainly not Brendon's incessant grabby hands. Who did this bouncy, mysterious stranger think he was? AND ARE SEXY TIMEZ EVER GOING TO HAPPEN? [Hint: it is quite likely they are.] | This fic is great. This was another one I originally read on LJ, but I reread it on AO3, so. You don’t lose anything from the switch between platforms, and for me it’s easier to read it all in one place (so I always turn on read full work on AO3 instead of chapter by chapter, so theoretically I can read it all in one sitting.)

- Stranger In This Town by seratonation | E, 11427, It was an idyllic sort of life. He had a secure job, a substantial paycheck, and a loving husband. And yet, Spencer felt tired. He felt numb, like everything around him was fading, or maybe it was the other way around, and he was the one who was fading. | I have Not seen the movie this is based on, but most fics that are based off of other things you don’t need knowledge of it for.

- If You’re Listening, Sing It Back by blackbird | E, 10079, If sometimes he ends up in the men's room with another guy pressed up against the door, that's no one else's business. Until one morning, by accident, it is. | I recently reread this fic, and most of the fics I’ve read are just as good on the reread.

- Closer by tigs | T, 1725, It feels different when, the moment Ryan sees them, he slams to a halt and says, "Shhh! We don't want to interrupt Spence and Brendon's cuddle time!" | Cuddle time! Accidental relationships!

- Into This Dream by (an orphaned account) | E, 28417, He's my best friend. I wish I could have been his. | I really understand Brendon in this fic. Wanting someone to be as close of friends with someone as you are with them is familiar to me, so Brendon’s decisions make a little more sense. (But I’m aromantic! So there is no romantic interest in my friends. So similar, but not completely the same.)

- And I’d Be Your Memory by tigs | Unrated, 8383, And somehow, midway through the tour, the postcard collecting becomes known as Brendon’s thing. | This is a feel-good fic.

- The Estranged Governess by wildestranger | E, 33258, Brendon is a governess with a disgraced past, who comes to teach the young cousins of Sir Spencer Smith. Sir Spencer is amused by this bouncy young man, and finds himself paying far to much attention to Mr Boyd's secretive manner as well as to the way he fills his regrettably old and worn clothes . Furthermore, Sir Spencer's oldest friend, the dissolute Lord Ross, is trying to woo, unsuccessfully, his estate manager Mr Walker. despite the tumultuous passion between them, Mr Walker refuses to give in to Lord Ross's advances as long as Lord Ross refuses to admit that it is more than a tumble in the hey that he wants from Mr Walker. Fortunately, Walker is a patient man and willing to wait while Ross goes through his tantrums. To this entangled situation arrives Mr Wentz, a cousin of Sir Spencer and an old flame of Lord Ross. Mr Wentz is known for his debauched lifestyle and delights in causing mayhem - and he seems far too interested in Sir Spencer's new tutor. But will the lovers find a way? Will Brendon lose his flower and find healing through the magic of buttsex? Will Ryan learn to admit his feelings and finally convince Jon Walker to bed him? | For some reason I associate this fic with this GSF fic that will be later on this list.

- Sea Change by sunsetmog | M, 53895, After getting his heart broken, Spencer tries to start a new life without the band. | This is the other Spencer-leaves-Panic! fic on this list. This one’s a lot more angsty, but also really great.

- Lights Never Shine as Bright as in the Movies by Sena | E, 35251, Brendon Urie's a master's student in music at UNLV who happens to make porn on the side. Spencer Smith's a wilderness photographer who happens to really, really like the online porn Brendon makes. They meet and shenanigans ensue. Also featuring Shane Valdes as Brendon's roommate and owner of his very own online porn site, William Beckett as Las Vegas' bitchiest maitre 'd, Gabe Saporta as a mime waiter, Greta Salpeter as a harried and overworked assistant, and Ryan Ross as himself. | It’s a...lot more angsty than you might think it is based on the summary.

- This Kind of Experience is Necessary For Her Learning by sinuous_curve | E, 8867, High on his shoulder, just off the ridge of his shoulder blade, he has an oblong bruise sunk into his skin. It's bright, livid purple, ridged with a regular series of darker spots along the edge. Spencer has a moment of wondering whether he was the victim of a prank he's since forgotten about or if he got abducted by aliens or someshit. Then, in a rush, he remembers. | Kink story. Why is Brencer the ship where everyone writes the kink stories? Serious question.

- E-mail Ficcish: Ashlee Simpson, Girl Romance Detective by Elucreh | T, 1370, RACHEL: http://twitter.com/petewentz/statuses/8302818080 LU: OH MY GOD, PETE, I LOVE HOW MARRIED YOUR DOUBLE DATE COMPANIONS ARE RACHEL: This is clearly the fic where Ashlee thinks they ARE dating and there's a lot of awkward coughing and hemming and hawing when they try to explain that uh... actually no?(BUT OBVIOUSLY THEY ARE IN LOVE) | AAAAAAAA

- More Adventurous by fictionalaspect | E, 48831, Spencer wondered if everyone thought he and Brendon were dating. He wondered about the way Brendon was always so tactile with him, the effortless way Brendon sort of fell into Spencer's personal space like he belonged there. He wondered if it was weird that Brendon was sleeping in his bed, if maybe Jess had just misheard him and assumed they were sleeping together in Spencer's bed, like Spencer used to do with Ryan. It got to the point that he wasn't even paying attention to what was going on in the game, and thus was totally blindsided when a particularly impressive kick by Taylor Murphy caught Spencer squarely in the balls. "Motherfucker," Spencer swore, when he felt himself capable of forming words again. "Happens to the best of us," Mr. Davies said, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. The impact jarred his back and by extension Spencer's sore balls, and he squeaked in pain. "You'll be alright," Mr. Davies said. "Just keep your eye on the ball next time. And watch that language." "Sure," Spencer said, instead of what he wanted to say, which was "Fuck you, douchebag." Spencer didn't need his gym teacher's sympathy, he needed a fucking ice pack. | Panic! at the Disco’s origin story is seriously like a fanfiction. Seriously.

- The Name of this Thing is Not Love by fictionalaspect | E, 21912, "I'm telling you," Jon says, and clicks his tongue behind his teeth like a disappointed grandmother. "There's a whole other world out there, man. You need to expand your horizons a little." "That's nice," Spencer says. It gives him a weird jolt in his stomach, to hear Jon spell it out like that. "Thank you for your concern. My sexuality is fine, thanks. It doesn't need your sympathy or your support." "It might get you laid," Jon says. "I get laid," Spencer says. "Sometimes." "No, you don't," Jon says. "You think very hard about it, decide it isn't worth it, and then you go home and order Chinese." | This fic, for some reason, feels like part of an almost totally unrelated story written way earlier by a different author. Like. Seriously.

- When Life Gives You Lemons (Say F**k the Lemons and Bail) by fiddleyoumust | E, 26475, Brendon and Spencer go on a cruise to escape their problems. They end up finding more than rest and relaxation. | Stands on its own.

- Amateur Cartography by fictionalaspect | E, 42365, In the summer of 2008, Brendon’s still trying to figure everything out. He’s good at keeping his own secrets, but when a prank goes awry, he’s faced with the realization that Spencer has some secrets of his own. They end up stumbling backwards into a complicated relationship—one that definitely doesn’t include sex. Or does it? | Again, kink fic. There are a few more on this list, I think.

- Works Both Ways by rsadelle | M, 1255, "The mate bond works both ways." Mark seems to realize that no one knows what to say to that, and he looks over at Spencer. "Are we not supposed to say anything about that?" | Werewolf AU.

- The Amazing Tail of Brendon Boyd Urie by RedOrchid | T, 1977, For the prompt: Brendon/Spencer, born with a tail. Written for no-tags 2011 | I’m pretty sure this is crack.

- If Music Be The Food Of Love (I’ll Have The Veggie Burger) by sunsetmog | M, 42250, Oblivious High School Failboats in Love, or, Brendon Urie: The High School Years. | Seriously. Panic!’s origin is very much so like a fanfic.

- Love Makes People Do The Wacky (or: Brendon Urie and Jon Walker, Adventures in Bromance) by ohohstarryeyed | M, 10651, As far as Brendon is concerned, being in love with Spencer would fucking suck, if it weren't for Jon Walker. | The power of friendship!

- Thereafter You Have It (And Tango Makes Three) by sunsetmog | E, 89286, Baby!fic. As harriet_vane succinctly put it, the almost true story of how Brendon's an idiot, Spencer brings Brendon shiny rocks, and no one gets any sleep. Or, alternatively, the one in which Brendon accidentally gets a girl pregnant, decides he wants to be a dad, and pretends like he's not in love with Spencer. "Hey, baby girl," Brendon says, softly. He thinks he should have thought of something more profound to welcome his daughter in to the world. | Kid!fic is my weakness, okay?

- Do Rockstars Dream Of Electric Sheep? by themoononastick | M, 18229, Spencer has weird dreams, questions his sexuality and spends a lot of time hiding things away in boxes in his mind. | This one is...weird and sort of puts you in a daze. I don’t know, okay?

- Here At The Right Time by sunsetmog | E, 51477, How had he managed to get this far in life without realizing exactly what it was that turned him on? | More kink-based fic.

- Cute Girls (Just Wanna Have Fun) by LittleMousling | E, 36960, Brent may have tricked Ryan and Spencer into auditioning a girl guitarist, but there's no question that Brendon is the best they've seen. Soon enough she's their new best buddy, too, hanging out at Spencer's house almost as much as Ryan does. The band is finally coming together, and Spencer's starting to think they might really make it as musicians--if she can stop getting distracted by her hopeless crush on Brendon. | The third early-Panic!-retelling I have. (There might be more idk.)

- A Presumption of Functionality (A Gas-Light Romance) by sunsetmog | G, 44502, When a spy brings news that an old inventor might have the key to finally bringing the war with Napoleon to an end, Spencer Smith, Officer of His Majesty's War Office, is dispatched north to discover if there's anything to these tales of dirigibles and flying-craft. Instead of flying-craft, however, he finds a unusual, dilapidated house – and instead of an old inventor, he finds Brendon Urie, complete with his pet hedgehog. With Brendon's scientist grandfather missing, Spencer is left trying to protect Brendon, rescue his grandfather and ensure that the secrets of flying-craft remain out of enemy hands. Vaguely steampunk-y AU in which the Napoleonic Wars didn't end with the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, but instead carried on well into the next decade. | I’m weak for steampunk AUs.

- Graham Need Not Apply by Pennyplainknits | T, 10327, Spencer doesn't want to be just one in a string of drummers for Panic. He's trying his hardest not to be another Graham, which would be easier if someone would tell him exactly what it is that Graham did. Or: Spencer pines, Brendon is a brave little toaster, and Ryan Ross will cut you. | That last part is practically a summary of most Brencer fics.

- I’d Hate To See You Frown by oanja | T, 52114, One would think that agreeing to an arranged marriage would make Spencer unhappy, but in fact he has nothing against it. Spencer has never been one to waste his time imagining swooping romances for himself, so settling for something more pragmatic is fine by him - especially as it's so beneficial to the family business. What he did not account for was his best friend Ryan becoming entangled in a very unsuitable affair with a libertarian, or that he would find his new spouse so appealing. Trying to prevent Ryan from ruining his reputation while adjusting to married life is going to require a delicate touch, which is not something Spencer has ever been known for. | Regency AU.

- Call It Home series by sunsetmog and fictionalaspect | E, 45630, Brendon feels like the one fixed thing in his life, the one unchangeable constant that Spencer can rely on even when everything around him is going to shit. It just figures that Spencer's going to ruin that, too, when they get back to LA and he makes his move. | This series was supposedly going to have more installments (I saw this on LJ, too), but with the two stories it currently has, it still feels complete.

- A Troubling of Hummingbirds by jukeboxghost | E, 11407, "Man," says Spencer, articulately, but Brendon gets it, he does. Here they are, here for a few days with two rented surfboards held together by layer after layer of duct tape and surfwax, the sweet smell of pungently rotting kelp, even sweeter surf, fresh fish and smokin' BBQ and gentle dusk every night and it's so utterly indulgent. Brendon feels fucking, like, nourished, feels like his insides have been scrubbed clean and copper-bright with wire wool, like all the dust and detritus and loose, lost feelings have been swept neatly into the corner, pruned and weeded and spring-cleaned. He takes a huge breath in. "Fuck yeah," he says. | This fic is sort of weird and airy in the unsettling way, but it’s really well-written.

- Hold on Tight and Don’t Let Go by fiddleyoumust | T, 13975, In reality, Brent brings Brendon to practice and Spencer falls in love with him the moment he bounces through the door of Spencer's garage. | The Story of Panic!, as told by yet another author.

- Stop Breathe Count To Three by sunsetmog and I think fictionalaspect (but I’m not completely sure on that) | E, 14907, "So, it's a comfort thing. It's just a comfort thing. Sometimes Brendon likes to suck on Spencer's nipples, and Spencer likes to hold him there and stroke his hair. Nothing weird about that." Or: We're not sorry. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. | This one’s sort of weird, but that’s okay.

- White Houses series by boxparade | Unrated, 44628, The one where Brendon is a music major who works at a diner and Spencer is the culinary arts major who thinks he’s cute. Ryan is all philosophical and kinda creepy (duh) and Jon works for Spencer’s dad, who happens to be the President of the United States. | Fluffy.

- Don’t cut your hair (Do you think it’s going to make him change?) by harriet_vane | T, 38891, The original summary was: Set a little while in the future. The band takes a break and Brendon gets bored. Spencer goes with him. Now I suppose it would be "Set a little bit in a slightly nicer past, where Brendon and Spencer go on tour by themselves but it isn't the end of the band." | Haven’t read this one in a while. I need to reread it, but I remember it being good.

- Suppose We Never Ever by playfullips | M, 23111, After Haley breaks it off with Spencer, Brendon helps him get back on his feet. Time passes, and Spencer finds himself seeing Brendon in a different light. | A lot more angsty than you’d think?

- Interlinked by doctor_jalsey | T, 12784, A story about finding yourself in the most unusual way and new beginnings. Or conversely, a mildly steampunkish fic where Spencer doesn’t realize he’s dating Brendon. | Still weak for steampunk.

- Forever Together by eledhwenlin | E, 15232, Spencer was taken by the phouka when he was only eight years old. He has grown up in their world and considers himself part of their community. But when Brendon and Spencer fall in love, they face serious ramifications ... and the only solution is to brave the human world together on their own, if they don't want to give up their love. | Fantasy is my favorite genre, mostly taken out on real books.

- I Wish I Could Remember You by sunsetmog | T, 8411, Spencer wakes up in the hospital after a surfing accident, and can't remember the last three years of his life. The doctors tell him his amnesia is likely to only be temporary, but in the meantime, Spencer can't remember the house he shares with Brendon, their dog, or how long they've been dating. Because--they are dating, right? | Not much to say on this one.

- The Heart of Lonesome Sky by heartsdesire456 | E, 30609, When Brendon Urie arrives at Rusty Creek, a ranch town so small the saloon doesn't even have a name, all he knows is that the man he was sent to marry was named Spencer Smith. At first glance, Brendon can't understand why a man as handsome and well established as Spencer Smith would need a mail-order groom when he should have been able to get any eligible man or woman in Rusty Creek. Through awkwardness, acceptance, and eventually belonging, Brendon has a chance to eventually learn the heart of the man who brought him to Lonesome Sky ranch. | Historical AUs!

- Autocorrect Says I Longview You But I Say I Love You by Count_B and Shakespeares_Girl | T, 2027, When you're in love, you leave little notes everywhere, and you just can't stop texting each other, and eventually, those things pile up and tell a story all their own. (Story told in love notes and text messages, and a tweet or two.) | Really, really cute.

- Fear of Flying by mokuyoubi | E, 29356, Spencer Smith, part-owner and celebrated head chef of noted restaurant Panic! At The Disco, is talented, rich, and gorgeous. The rest of the staff can't even seem to remember that Brendon works there. “You’re really good at that,” Jon observed. “Good at what?” Brendon asked, swirling his spoon in his dish. The ice cream was a melted mess by now. “Finding excuses not to come to the party even when you’re invited, not letting Spencer get to know you even when he asks you a direct question about yourself,” Jon said casually. Brendon dropped his spoon and glared across the table. “What are you trying to say?” “I’m saying that you don’t want anyone getting any closer to you,” Jon said. “How long were you with your last boyfriend?” | Warning: may make you hungry. (Also, I’m pretty sure jackfruit doesn’t look like that - I’ve eaten it.)

- Cinderella AU series by mokuyoubi | E (whole series), 32169, A Brencer retelling (sort of) of Cinderella. | This should really be a brencer fic but my favorite part of this is Pete/Ashlee/Patrick and idk why.

- The View From Here by mokuyoubi | E, 13634, Spencer has an irrational fear of Ferris wheels. Brendon sees it as his duty as best friend to cure him of it. | Or: Jon and Ryan try to set Spencer and Brendon up!

- The Gay Mormons series by stele3 | T, 39104, No summary | Poly!Spencer is amazing, okay?

- A Storm Brewing by bad_peppermint | G, 25073, Ever since he started university, Spencer has been quite content studying his dragons and trying to talk to Brendon, the young man who works at Spencer's boarding house. Having the dragons fall mysteriously ill is the last thing he wants, but then again, it does mean more time spent with Brendon as they try to figure out what's wrong. | The full title is too long, okay?

- There’s a boy that I like by spendon | T, 3833, 'There's a boy that I like,' Brendon began typing, fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard, tapping the keys delicately. |

- that one regret is you by thescrewtapedemos | E, 13969, There’s a witch living way out in the woods (that’s Spencer) and there’s someone running blindly through said woods (that’s Brendon) and that’s about where the similarity to a fairytale ends (there’s a cauldron but Spencer only uses it to make soup so Brendon’s pretty sure it doesn’t count) | Fantasy, again, is my favorite genre of rl novels. So, it’s pretty much a given that with this length + this AU, I would at least read it. But it’s actually great.

- Rule #3 (Wear Your Heart On Your Cheek) by Kandakicksass | E, 7768, "someone write me a brencer au where when you fall in love, a little heart shows up on your body, in totally random places, and Spencer falls in love for the first time with Brendon during like idk nothing rhymes with circus tour and the heart is like this cute thing that shows up on HIS FACE somewhere (like under his eye, on his cheek, or up high on his forehead) and he’s so embarrassed by it and it takes Brendon like two months and a lot of laughing from Ryan for him to figure out that Spencer is in love with him" I keep filling my own prompts. Enjoy. | The fact that the title came from a Marina song made me love this fic even more.

- And the world has its shine (but I would drop it on a dime for you) by AbsolutelyNothing and peachypunk | E, 165889, In Victorian-ish times, The Smith family has served the wealthy Urie family for generations. Being so close in age, Brendon and Spencer become best friends and, over time, the rich, Omega socialite, Brendon, starts to fall for his personal, Alpha servant, Spencer. | A/B/O is a concept I was first introduced to on AO3. Like, it’s all the werewolf AUs without the turning into a wolf part, and it’s developed into its own thing.

- *Need You Wild by fallintosilence and boweryd | E, 105K+, Spencer's a werewolf! A sexy werewolf! Okay, really, Spencer is a newly turned, slightly confused werewolf who can't figure out why Brendon smells so good all the time. Or why Spencer can't seem to stop acting like he is 16-years-old, what with all the blushing and stuttering around Brendon and the constant jerking off. Fear not, though, gentle reader, because it turns out Brendon is totally on board with having a werewolf boyfriend. And with having lots and lots of sex. | Werewolves are sort of cool. There’s a lot of p0rn in here, though.

Joncer

This pairing is used as a side for Ryan/Brendon and I really think it deserves its own time in the spotlight more often. It’s after brencer in popularity because it’s mostly shafted off as a side pairing and not the main one.

- Kick It Back by afterthefair | E, 6103, Spencer thinks the girls fall into a few distinct categories: the ones who either haven’t heard the news or don’t care, the ones who want to convert him, and the ones who shout “Kiss! Kiss!” every time he and Jon get within a foot of each other. | Coming out fic.

- Median by strangecobwebs | E, 23356, Jon first learned about the Kinsey scale when he was about seventeen. And if zero is completely heterosexual, and six is completely homosexual? Jon Walker is a three. So very much a three. |

- If It Kills Me by foxxcub | E, 16928, Spencer Smith knows there must be a catch when Jon Walker − his despised FBI partner − offers to transfer out of Chicago and far, far away from him. There's a catch, all right: Spencer has to spend one sexy night with the untamed playboy. Okay, so the guy's hot. So his reputation in the bedroom is the stuff of legend. So Spencer's been in a dry spell for, oh, over a year. So maybe one night to be rid of him isn't so unbearable. But once the sheets have cooled, Spencer's just starting to heat up, and moving away is the last thing on Jon's mind...FBI AU. Plot and summary stolen shamelessly from Erin McCarthy's novella Miss Extreme Congeniality. Title stolen from Jason Mraz. | This is another fic for the to-reread list.

- Let the Future Come into Each Moment by saramir | E, 27277, In which Spencer turns thirty, Jon is even more affectionate toward him than usual, and Ryan & Brendon are writing (and arguing about) a plant-themed album. Set on tour, 2017, after a failed album and failed relationships, all while the four of them have stuck together, and then some. | Future fics always hurt a little, because nobody could have predicted the split.

- Jon’s Bookstore (A Few of My Favorite Things) by foxxcub | M, 11235, A funeral is really the wrong place to learn you've inherited a business. |

- The Bootstrap Paradox and Other Tips for Finding True Love by mokuyoubi | E, 41829, In response to the harlequin_bands challenge: Swept from her dismal present in the 1990s (facing unemployment and the singles scene), Phoebe Turlow takes a wrong turn at a hotel (while attending a “free” vacation in the Caribbean, sponsored by a condo company) and winds up in the seventeenth century in the company of a sexy, witty pirate named Duncan Rourke. As if Rourke does not have enough to do fighting the British in the American Revolution, he has to determine whether short haired, strange speaking Phoebe is a spy, a witch, or worse. Instead, he falls in love with her. Okay, so Ryan was going to be Phoebe and Brendon Duncan, except then somehow Spencer and Jon took over the story, and so this really tells the story of Phoebe and Duncan’s best friends. Oh, also changed it to the eighteenth century, since I’m *pretty* sure that’s when the American Revolution actually took place…*shrug* | The 18th century is when the American Revolution really took place, because the century numbers versus actual year numbers are sort of misleading.

- Catnip by rockme | T, 7187, One day while smoking, Jon hears a distant meow. | No, but seriously, this fic is basically about weed actually turning people into cats. 

- *Anywhere, Say Anywhere (As Long As I’m with You) by hidingoutside | E, Unknown, As the head of guest services at Oakhart Ranch, Jon Walker's supposed to make sure everything's running as smoothly as possible, even when Spencer Smith, former rodeo champion, comes rolling into town to help his former mother-in-law keep the ranch from going under. Jon's never heard anything good about Spencer, but Spencer's never anything but helpful and generally awesome to Jon and his infant daughter. Suddenly living on in the middle of nowhere Wyoming doesn't seem so bad... |

Rycer

I used to dislike this pairing. Not like, absolutely hate, but I had the tendency to avoid it.

- Mistletoe by amethyst__angel | T, 1191, Christmas is supposed to be a time for love, for friendship, for presents and accidentally walking under the mistletoe with your best-friend-since-forever... | I might be typing this on December 27th, but I started compiling this list before Christmas, so it’s fine.

- Further Down the Road by zarah5 | T, 7029, The sketch of a full moon is sitting next to yesterday’s date, and twenty-eight days, Spencer thinks. Twenty-eight days. He could be wrong, of course, but… He doesn’t know why it makes a twisted kind of sense mostly because it’s Ryan, but it does. | .

- Tearing Down the Toy City by roebling and rubblerousing | M, 52864, "What I'm trying to say, Spence, is that if you don't like the way things are going, that's fine, but if you're nostalgic for five years ago, you better give up. 2001 is not coming back. You and Ryan were never going to be fourteen forever. I think you need to figure out what you want." | There’s a mixed bag of fics in this tag, but the hurty ones are always the most well-written.

- Through All Kinds of Weather by Marks | E, 28994, Ryan gets sick and pushes himself too hard. Enter Spencer and his world of denial. | .

- His Executive Sweetheart (I’ll Put The Coffee On) by sunsetmog | M, 34252, As a bored but efficient executive assistant, Ryan Ross wasn't supposed to have fallen madly, hopelessly in love with his boss. Especially when his boss was business mogul and confirmed bachelor (and old childhood friend) Spencer Smith. His best friends were convinced that only one thing would get Spencer to notice him, and that was a makeover. But if he lets them have their way, then how is Ryan to ever really know for sure if Spencer likes Ryan for real? | .

Jon/Brendon

What...is the ship name for this? Also, I only have one rec for this pairing. I’m not a fan of this pairing, for some reason. I just...don’t quite understand it? Either way. One rec.

- (Panic! at the Disco Almost Changed Their Name to) Fuzzy Kitten Cuddle Time by dsudis | E, 14407, In which Jon Walker is sometimes a kitten. | Kittens.

Endnotes

Poly reclist coming up next. There are a lot of fics on that list.

(Edit 11/5/19: Fixed a broken link.)

[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP: Chapter 4: Did It Forge A Love You Might Never Have Found

Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3

Co-author: @athingofvikings

I wanted to say a bit about the music behind this story... First of all, we have the titles of these first four chapters. In the correct order, they form one verse of the before mentioned song "The Wolven Storm".

I know not if fate would have us live as one, Or if by love's blind chance we've been bound. The whish I whispered when it all began, Did it forge a love you might never have found?

Can you see why it tickled me for these chapters?

Also, another thing about 'music' in the broader sense... I created an audio template for this and the following chapters. It's mainly for myself to listen to while I write, but I figured I might as well share it here in case anyone is interested.

Astrid didn't like to wear her mask of lies. But she was good at it by now, and tonight, she had plenty opportunities to use it.

 Instead of a full formal meal with all of the usual courses, her father apparently had decided on a more leisurely meal, with a table set according to the Northerner custom of a ‘smorgasbord’. Along the centre of the room, one of the grandest tables had been set out with platters, bowls, and other serving dishes, all filled with a variety of foods available for people to serve themselves as they saw fit. It was appropriate for the occasion, she guessed. Technically, House Jag’r didn’t belong to the Northern Tribes, but living in close proximity to them had resulted in many traditions swapping between them. But it also meant that she didn’t even get a break while everyone ate. For the rest of the night, during the social gathering and mingling, she would need this fake smile on her face, the well-practised mask. It was all outsiders ever saw of her. Although, she had expected as much for this event. Presenting her mask to outsiders? That was normal, that was her day to day existence.

What she hadn't expected, however, was that she would need to wear this mask when talking to those close to her as well.

But she didn’t dare give a hint of what she was actually feeling. Not when she could feel Hiccup's presence at any given moment, felt his eyes on her like the warmth of the sun during a summer noon. She was used to people looking at her, but this was different. Hiccup was different. She was so aware of him, easily noticing him whenever he crossed her peripheral vision, and kept spotting him among the crowd without having to look hard for him. It was so confusing.

Everything was so confusing.

He was Eret's squire, his cousin even. He wasn't just a simple stable lad, not a common man, but one of noble blood. Maybe there was a chance after all, maybe...

She needed answers, needed to know. She needed to know who he was, needed to know whether there was a chance, whether he was important enough that her father would allow –

Stop it! she berated herself. She couldn’t let herself think like that, not here. Not when she was surrounded and watched by dozens of people and every tiny slip of her facial expressions could get observed. Slowly, she shook her head from one side to the other, just like the small figurine in that music box Grand Duke Oswald had given her many years ago. It was one of those intricate mechanical devices that occasionally made their way in merchants’ packs from distant realms, and the big harbour of Southshore, House Berserker’s hometown, usually was the first place those showed up.

With her eyes closed, Astrid called forth the memory of the tiny dancer and the odd piece of music, forcing herself to concentrate on this memory only. How it would turn and whirl in time with the melody, and how it would get stuck, always at the same place until a thorough shaking set it right again. The familiar image served its purpose, and Astrid felt herself calm down again, if only a little.

Gods, what was going on with her? Marriage had never been an appealing idea to her. She knew that, as the future king's sister, she would need to participate in a political marriage once she turned twenty, and had always dreaded the idea. And now she was honestly considering marrying a complete stranger? All because of a couple of weird images she’d seen, and those confusing feelings this man inspired in her? It was insane.

And who said he even wanted to marry her? Certainly, he had kissed her, but... well, men were more free in such things. He might have wanted her on a simple basis of being a woman, but that didn't necessarily mean that he... liked her.

And yet his eyes never seemed to leave her, and she couldn't stop thinking about him.

It was unbearable.

She needed answers to her questions. Asking Eret about him would be the easiest way, but she didn’t dare to give away anything, not even to him. And she couldn't simply approach and ask Hiccup himself, not here. Not with remembering what had happened at the stables, and not with so many eyes watching. She couldn't risk him doing something he shouldn't... mustn't do. No, all she could do was try to ignore him as best she could and hope for an opportunity to talk in private in the near future.

Seeking distraction, she decided to finally greet the Grand Duke, and apologise for her absence earlier. He, his elderly father, and her own father all sat at the King's table, up on a small dais, behind a light and sheer privacy curtain, allowing it to be a little separated from the noises and ever-prying eyes and ears in the rest of the room. When she stepped through, they were in deep conversation.

"...telling you, these title disputes are getting worse with every month, much less every year. If we don't find a way to placate–"

"Astrid!" her father interrupted his friend as she came closer. "How nice of you to come and finally greet our guests," he said dryly, making her glower at him and Lord Eret II chuckle.

"Oh, don't be too hard on the lass," he said, smiling warmly at her. "I vividly remember how we were at her age, never listening to rules and always out seeking adventure. Now, tell me, my dear. How are you doing? Is your bow still as unerring as it used to be? Just so I know whether it makes sense for me to participate in the hunts during the next months. I don't fancy getting beaten by a girl again!"

"I'm fine, your Grace, thank you," she replied politely as Eret the Elder rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure about my bow though, as I’ve had little opportunity to use it lately. But be assured, the hunts aren't of any interest to me anymore, so your pride will be spared."

The King groaned, but Duke Eret just chuckled, and Astrid felt herself relax. She could still feel Hiccup's eyes on her back, but here, where she couldn't see him out of the corner of her eye and in the presence of these men who still saw her as a rebellious child, she felt a little more like herself again.

"I came to apologise for not being there to greet you, your Grace," she went on. "And also to thank you for the magnificent gift you brought me. Markor is a wonderful animal."

Sir Eret's face softened at her words. "Ah, you've seen him already? Yes, a magnificent horse indeed. I knew you would appreciate him."

"You brought her a male horse?" the King threw in incredulously, and threw up his hands in exasperation. "How is she ever supposed to become a lady if everybody keeps treating her like a boy?"

"What's she to do with a horse anyway?” Eret the Elder interjected, and then gave a sly grin at her. “A fair maiden like her is to be ridden, not to ride herself. She would make a fine mare for young Eret. You two should seal the contract right away."

“Father!” Eret II chided as Astrid resisted the urge to reply in kind. Smirking inwardly, she wondered how Eret the Elder would react if he ever learned of his grandson's choice of partner.

“What?” protested the elder. “I didn’t see you making such complaints when I found you your blushing bride.”

“She’s my daughter, Uncle Eret,” her father said, exasperated, rubbing at his eyes as Astrid glowered at the prune of an old man. “Not some of your prized bloodstock on the stud farm. Besides, she’s too young to marry yet.”

Eret the Elder leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Feh. I don’t see the difference. You all come from good stock, and the cross would be splendid. And as for her age, I honestly don’t see the point in waiting for a certain age. Nature tells you when a mare is ready to conceive, so–”

“Annnnd I think that’s enough, father,” Duke Eret said firmly. “As for the horse, my friend,” he said, unsubtly yanking back control of the conversation, “it is just a gelding. And he comes with an ornate bridle and side-saddle, embellished by my younger daughters.” He gave an exasperated side-eyed look at his father, as if daring the old man to repeat the comment about his granddaughters. “It’s splendidly decorative."

This time, it was Astrid’s turn to groan.

. o O o .

Hiccup wasn’t able to tear his eyes away from her.

After they’d left the King’s office and joined the crowd of people gathered loosely around the smorgasbord, Eret and the royal siblings had been greeted cheerfully. Hiccup had stood to the side, not wanting or deserving any attention, and his eyes had rested on the Princess' slender figure practically at every moment.

Of course, she was hard to miss in that elegant deep red dress with the wide flowing skirts and the elbow-length gloves that left her upper arms bare, with her endless golden hair braided in an intriguing pattern he was just dying to unravel by running his fingers through it, and with her beauty that seemed to radiate through the entire room, enlightening it with her mere presence. But it wasn't just that, not just her literal divine beauty, not just how she looked. Other high-born daughters wore similarly extravagant dresses, likely trying to copy her style, and, surely, some of them had to be pretty, too. And yet he only had eyes for her.

No, it wasn't simply a matter of how gorgeous she looked. And it wasn't the fact that she was the Princess, the First Lady of the Kingdom. It hadn't been those superficial things that had drawn him toward her in the first place, and they didn't matter to him now, either. If anything, they were impediments.

No, what was pulling him toward her, made it unbearable to stay away from her, was something else. It was the memory of that other side of her, of how she'd behaved in the stables when he'd thought she was just a farmer's daughter, and of how she'd behaved in her father's office just now. It were those images of her, standing in the door to their home and with their son on her arms, the overwhelming longing for this vision to come true, the wish to spend his entire life with her at his side. And it was the fact, that she apparently had some sort of feelings for him, too.

And for everything else.

Those words, and the look in her eyes... No, there was no mistaking what that had meant. She felt it too, this strange bond between them, the urge to... to connect. But she wasn't willing to show any of that, for some reason. Of course, he hadn't expected her to directly throw herself around his neck, and in front of all these people she couldn't say much,  but... Freya, she could at least have said something while there were only Eret and her brother around, right? Or she could include him in their conversations like Eret and Daniel did, even if her brother only did so occasionally. Or she could at least look at him.

Hiccup knew that the rules of courtship down here in the capital were much stricter than he was used to, but, surely, she was allowed to look at a man that wasn't her intended, right? She had no such qualms when it came to Eret, after all.

His gaze followed her as she made her way up to the table where her father, the Grand Duke and... Eret's grandfather sat, and a crazy idea crossed his mind. What if he followed her up there? What if he introduced himself as who he really was, officially claiming his title and birthright, and asked for the Princess' hand? It was too early, she was too young to marry, according to southern standards, but that didn't matter. He would happily wait another two and a half years to marry her, if only he could be sure that he would marry her.

And maybe the King would even help him to enforce his legal claim.

And, maybe, just maybe, Thor might even lend Mjölnir to Loki for a day, just for a lark.

Hiccup's eyes landed on the old men sitting next to the Grand Duke, and his expression grew bitter. No, going up there wouldn't get him anywhere just now. Why should the King give up valuable resources and men just to help him regain a title worth marrying his daughter? There surely were dozens of other suitable candidates already. Maybe Lord Eret might support his request, but the old man surely would not. And, from a logical point of view, he would be right.

Hiccup had nothing to offer. No House to support him, no land or trade contracts to make him a worthwhile candidate, no vassals to offer for the royal army, no political power to support the King. No, he had nothing but his honest feelings for his daughter. And no matter how affectionate the King looked at her when she wasn't looking, no matter how much he seemed to care for his daughter, he wouldn't... couldn't agree to Hiccup's requests. She was too valuable. Thinking of her that way felt wrong, but it was the simple truth, from a strategic point of view, at least. The Princess was a valuable resource. Her marriage would forge an alliance between the throne and her husband’s House, and the King would be a fool if he didn't use that to keep up stability within his kingdom.

For a little while longer, he indulged in the daydream of going to her and talking to her father, until the conversation between Eret and Daniel turned to a new topic. Hiccup hadn't been interested in the latest gossip of the capital or the Prince's ideas of testing new methods in architecture, but this new topic now drew his attention.

"Okay, but now onto more pressing points. Seriously, Eret, what are you going to do now? I'm sure Father would agree to your wishes in case it's something reasonable. You can't seriously want to spend the next few years guarding your father's stud farms," the Prince said with an amused tone in his voice.

Hiccup let his gaze wander through the room, unseeingly, as he focused on listening to them. They didn’t seem to be aware of him standing only a few feet away – or at least they didn’t care, if they did – and while it might still be a more-or-less private conversation between two friends, this topic affected him as well, in his position as Eret’s squire.

"Oh, I don't know," Eret replied in a light voice. "Guarding the farms would be a comfortable way of earning money. It's not like anyone would ever actually try to steal those beasts." Both men chuckled, but then Eret went on. "Although, I could just as well ask to be sent to the South. Guarding the sunny beaches around Southshore surely would be equally comfortable. I mean, there's the royal armada under Grand Duke Oswald's command, it's not like anyone would dare to attack there, either."

"Guarding the beaches?" the Prince asked, poorly suppressing his snickering. "You Northerners and the sun. As if you would last even one day standing in the heat with your gambeson on, much less the full armour. Besides, you'd also have to endure the Deranged’s  company."

"Ah, Dagur is not so bad if you know how to handle him," Eret said with a grin, and Hiccup couldn't keep his lips from twitching into a smirk. Dagur of House Berserker was an enigmatic person beyond those who knew him, to say the least. And Eret surely knew how to handle him. "But just for the protocol, I'm still not a Northerner. The city of Eastervale might be far up in the north from here, but the people of the Northern Islands would protest if I ever claimed to be one of them. And rightly so, I might add... You don't want to mess with the Tribes, believe me."

"You're right there, I guess," Daniel said thoughtfully. "I never had much contact with them, and only visited their High Chief once or twice when I accompanied Father. But it has become quiet around them during the last few years, since..." he trailed off as a practically tangible uneasiness grew between them, but before it could dampen the mood permanently, he changed the topic again. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I meant what I said earlier. You should accompany me to the West come summer. I could use a fighter like you. I mean, you're welcome to accompany me in a few weeks already, but I’ll just be travelling around – I’m planning on working my way through the counties around Loki’s Teeth this year – to see where we need to make repairs on the defences, or how we could improve specific outposts. There won't be any fighting as long as the mountain paths are sealed by the snow, but it surely would be good to get a feeling for the terrain. And–"

"Daniel," Eret interrupted the Prince with a smile and a raised hand. "Of course I'll accompany you. I know that Father doesn't like the idea of me 'going to war,' as he always claims that I'm the only one capable of leading our House once he retired, and he’d surely like me to stay at the stud farms forever. But he can't ban me from doing what he’d done, too. You've fought back those Malarian raiders in the mountains on your own long enough. This year, I'm old enough to decide for myself, and I will fight at your side. We all will, even though that means that you'll have to deal with Dagur and Snotlout, too. We'll fight together, just like our fathers did."

Hiccup closed his eyes and stopped listening. Their fathers... The irony was incredible. These four young men would be the leaders of this kingdom once the older generation stepped down, the future King and his three loyal friends. Just like their fathers before them. And now, as Eret's squire, Hiccup would fight at their side as well. Oh yes, the Norns really had a twisted sense of humour.

But he wouldn’t complain. As ironic as the whole situation was, it was also a chance he could benefit from. He had two-and-a-half years until Astrid reached the traditional age of marriage, although she was technically of legal age already. It was not much time, really, to earn himself a reputation or influence, much less a title, but it was a chance. Because if there was one place in the entire United Kingdom of Volantis where he could accomplish that deed, it was at the western mountain ranges bordering the princedoms of Malardur, where, every summer, raiding parties and war bands crossed the mountain passes looking for loot to plunder, towns to conquer and ransom, and farms to burn – and their own people pushed them back, and tried to do the same to the Malarians. For the last two years, since his own accolade, Prince Daniel had been in the thick of it all, so fighting at his side nearly guaranteed that Hiccup wouldn’t return empty-handed.

A small smile tugged at his lips, and for once, he didn’t even try to fight it. This was a real chance. He had two summers, not much in general, but under these circumstances it might be enough. Enough to become a knight at least, and to gain the Prince’s favour – which surely would prove helpful when he stepped forward to ask for his sister’s hand. 

The thought made his heart beat faster. It was a real possibility, a plan to follow. He just needed a little luck – and her consent. He looked up at the King’s table, but found that she wasn’t there anymore. Instead, she was walking straight in his direction, a disgruntled expression on her face that made him squirm nervously.

. o O o .

Once the three older men were done laughing at her disgruntled expression, Astrid left them; they had returned to their discussion about the territorial skirmishes among the lesser nobility before she’d even gotten past the privacy curtain, although it wasn’t as if they’d include her in such ‘weighty matters’. But while she wasn’t involved in the political discussions – Eret the Elder’s attitudes about her being little more than a broodmare were more common than she liked – it was hard to censor the knowledge that it was a growing problem in her homeland.

It was her House’s fault, really. Her grandfather had united the five princedoms and thrown out all of the old corrupt nobility, and then turned around and given out the newly vacant titles to his men. To his closest friends, he’d given the former princedoms, now the grand-dukedoms. To the generals, he’d given the duchies, the captains the counties, and to the soldiers who had distinguished themselves, the baronies. But now the men who had fought alongside her grandfather were nearly all gone, and after two generations of alliances and squabbles and marriages and petty rivalries, there were dukes who held a dozen titles, counts with five or six, and a great many landless nobles. And it seemed that every single one of them wanted more than they had. But, with the oceans in the north and south, the borders to the east stabilized with treaties, and the west being a constant stalemate over defensible mountain passes... there was no place to get more...

Except from each other.

And the disputes were growing worse.

She knew all this, but it was not like she could do anything about it. Or that anyone would let her do anything, even if she could. She was just a woman, good for nothing but forging alliances and bearing children.

Bah!

But getting agitated about an old man’s words wouldn’t get her anywhere. Instead, she sought out two of the few people who treated her like an equal. She quickly found Eret and Daniel near the serving board, piled plates in hand, surrounded by people loosely standing around, chatting and laughing.

Hiccup was close by as well, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His gaze flickered away from her as soon as she got closer, wandered through the room, but soon shifted back toward her again. Her heart made a funny jump at that sight, but she didn't let herself react in any visible way. The tug that seemed to pull them toward each other was growing stronger and stronger, and had been ever since she’d spotted him behind Eret at the accolade. She yearned to go and talk to him. Even if it would be just some unimportant small talk, it would be worth it just to listen to his voice. But every time Eret or Daniel had included him into their conversation so far, his few words alone had served to remind her of their afternoon, of the low gasps and groans he’d made in the back of his throat as he’d –

Stop it!

Once again, she deliberately shook her head to chase those memories away. Think of something else, she reminded herself. Anything else!

"Please tell me you brought a normal saddle as well. I doubt any of mine will fit Markor, and I don't think I can get away with letting one be made for him," she blurted out as soon as she was close enough for Eret to hear her.

All things considered, it wasn’t much of a pressing point, but it still served to occupy her mind. A handy distraction. And everything that helped her not to constantly remember how he had kissed her was helpful at the moment.

She tried to retrieve the disgruntled expression from before, tried to remember how irritated she’d been only minutes ago, and her acting seemed to be good enough.

Her brother had an amused smirk on his face when he looked at her while Eret grinned and winked. "Of course I brought a normal saddle, what do you think of me, Swanja? It’s hidden with the servants’ baggage, which should have reached the castle by now. You'll get it tomorrow, or the day after, depending on how quickly I can smuggle it to you from their quarters."

Astrid sighed in relief, and was about to thank him – in earnest, even though her complaint had only been kind of a pretence – when Eret stiffened, his gaze directed past her.

"Oh, mighty Thor..." he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

As she and Daniel turned, she spotted a small group of people approaching them, led by the Countess of Whitevale, and only managed to keep herself from giggling by biting her lip. Daniel wasn't as skilled in repressing his emotions, and groaned. Turning away again, he beckoned Hiccup over with a small gesture.

"I know that you’re not a simple servant, but we're far too sober for what’s about to happen," he stated, gesturing to Eret and himself. Eret snorted and nodded in pained agreement. "Could you get us something to drink? Something stronger than that watered wine? Please?”

Hiccup nodded mutely, visibly confused by the virtually panicky tone in the Prince's voice, and turned to follow the order.

For a short moment, Astrid considered to reach out for him under the pretence of asking him to get her something to drink, too. She wanted to feel his wiry arm, even if it could only be through the fabric of his shirt and her gloves. She wanted to look at him without fearing people might find it suspicious. She wanted to talk to him in a low voice, even if it was just to ask him to bring her a glass of wine.

But she managed to hold back. She feared that she might say something she shouldn't say, that she might give away more than was sensible by looking him in the eyes, and that touching him would only serve for her to want to touch him even more.

Biting on the inside of her cheek, she forced herself not to look at him as he came in her direction. It was bad enough that her heart was suddenly racing and her throat had gone dry just from thinking about –

Astrid gasped as the loose fabric of his sleeve brushed against her arm as he passed by.

She couldn't keep the small sound from escaping her. She doubted it had happened on purpose; there was a bit of a crowd around them and she thought someone had just stepped into his path, forcing him to sidestep that someone. Surely, it had just been a coincidence, and he didn't even react beyond hesitating for a fraction of a second before continuing on his way.

But it had been enough to make her heart pound as quickly as a galloping horse’s hooves, and for her mind to blissfully blank out for an instant. Freya, he’d been so close. Somehow, this accidental brush had felt even more intense than the kiss he’d given her on her hand in her father’s office, this first renewed contact that had been more than she’d expected to ever happen. It was all so confusing. How was it possible that this virtual stranger had such an effect on her?

Still determined to ignore him as best she could, Astrid kept herself from turning her head and following him with her eyes. Or from actually following him. She would make it through this night, she would wait for the right opportunity to talk to him. She could do that.

Fighting for her self-control, Astrid turned to greet the Countess with her usual pleasant smile. Right now, she was genuinely relieved over the older woman’s arrival, even though she was accompanied by three of her many daughters, and Astrid knew exactly what would follow.

"Prince Daniel, it is so good to see you," the Countess chirped happily, not letting herself be interrupted by curtsying. She gave a brief nod of acknowledgement towards Astrid, the minimum required by courtesy, before she turned her attention back to her actual prey. "And Eret – no, Sir Eret now. Such a delight to have you here again. Don't you think so, too, my dears?"

Astrid made a small step backwards, grinning inwardly at Eret's and Daniel’s helpless expressions. For years now, the Countess had never missed an opportunity to promote her many daughters as possible brides for every nobleman of considerable rank. She had at least five, as Astrid could recall, and, naturally, Eret and Daniel were two of her favoured targets. Everyone knew that her brother wasn't interested in settling down with a wife of his own, and nearly everyone assumed that she and Eret were a couple already. But since nothing was official yet – and never would be – the Countess hadn't given up yet.

The girls, used to their mother’s attempts at match-making, smiled pleasantly and bobbed their curtseys, even though it was obvious how uncomfortable they felt, to Astrid at least. They, too, were bound to the same customs that left them with only few options.

“Thank you, your Grace,” Eret replied with a tight smile. “It always is a delight to be here.” His gaze wandered over the row of her daughter, courtesy demanding superficial interest at least. “But it seems like two of your lovely daughters are missing. Is there cause for congratulations?”

Astrid noticed the surprised look on her brother’s face, and felt a small smile tugging at her lips. He probably wouldn’t have noticed this as he only rarely paid attention to things he wasn’t interested in. But Eret had always been more observant when it came to people.

“Ah, yes,” the Countess sighed happily. “Azure, my second daughter, married the Duke of Greenhill and moved to live at his estate near Westhill. Not the safest place these days with the Malarian raids, but we all hope those might be ended one day.” She gave a beaming and significant smile at Daniel. “And as for Claire, my oldest daughter… Well, she joined Freya’s Sisterhood last year, and I’m proud to say that she has already completed her time as Acolyte – and in near-record time, I might add! – and will be promoted to Gythja at the Midwinter festivals. She’d been studying as an Initiate for years, and finally decided last year to devote herself to it as a calling, and I just received the news last month on her upcoming elevation. We’re so proud of her!” She beamed at Daniel, and Astrid quirked a smile at her enthusiasm. This was a side of the Countess she didn’t often see – honest pride in her child’s accomplishments, instead of a merchant boasting about her wares. “You might remember what a kind and caring girl she’s always been, and caring for other people’s needs really does make her happy.”

“That sounds wonderful,” agreed Eret, just as Daniel seemed to remember that he, too, was supposed to participate in this conversation.

“Right… Now that you mention that, I think I remember seeing her during one of my last visits there,” he threw in, thoughtfully. “But she’s not yet an Ástir, right? If I remember correctly, she was treating an impressive wound on a boy’s arm.”

The Countess nodded eagerly. “Yes, that is very likely. She’s been in training to become a healer, and Fyrir Mala praises her skills, her calm hand, and her compassion for her patients regularly. And she really thrives at her work, she’s such a good girl. But she wouldn’t be suitable as an Ástir just yet. Her education in pleasing men only started after she joined the Sisterhood, of course. However, we expect her Bloodnight to be sometime before Spring festivals. Too bad you are not one of her suitors, Highness, it would be such an honour. Or what about you, Sir Eret? I’m sure Claire wouldn’t mind to add you to her list.”

And there’s the merchant again, Astrid thought tartly.  

Eret shifted from one foot to the other, and let his gaze wander through the room – subtly looking for his drink, Astrid assumed – before he answered. “Well, I’m sure Fyrir Mala will choose a worthy candidate for this special occasion. Someone with enough experience in such matters.”

“Oh, you are too modest, milord. I’m sure you must be an exceptional lover,” the Countess said with an insinuating smile and a wink, that made Eret react with a tight smile as Daniel clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m sure he is. But he’s a little picky, our Eret. Only accepts certain Priestesses to take care of his needs.” he said, grinning, and Astrid bit back a smirk. If only they knew…

The girls, however, all had their eyes cast to the floor, cheeks bright with embarrassment.Technically, their mother was violating one of the rules of proper decorum right now. While young maidens were taught the basics about sex by the Order of Frigga after their first moonblood, it was also with the admonition that such ‘women’s secrets’ were not to be discussed by them until their wedding day. The idea – as Astrid understood it – was that keeping the topic from being raised would hopefully keep premarital encounters from occurring.

Of course, the rules were different for men. They had needs, and the Order of Freya fulfilled those. Dedicated to love of every kind, the Priestesses of Freya spend the majority of their time taking care of the people’s needs. While the Order of Odin acted as advisor and sometimes as executioner, and the Order of Thor oversaw the training of soldiers, the Order of Freya was of a more charitable nature. They made sure that whoever came to worship their Goddess, regardless of their status or fortune, would get a meal at least once a day, would get his wounds treated, would find an open ear for consolations of more personal matters, and would see to it that the desires of men did not turn sour and curdle for lack of fulfillment.  

Astrid, too, stared at the ground, her cheeks burning, though not because of the Countess’s public breach of decorum. She’d grown up with her brother and what amounted to a number of step-brothers, and she’d overheard more than her share of them talking about sex when she was younger not to be shocked. To her, it was more irritating that she wasn’t allowed by decorum to join in on their talks and ask some long-held questions of hers. No, it wasn’t them talking that made her blush.

    It was because she could barely keep herself from scanning the crowd, knowing that she could lay eyes on him in an instant.

All this talking made her think of Hiccup again, of how he’d held her so tightly while he’d kissed her. She vividly remembered his hot hand on her waist and her neck, his demanding lips seeking more and deeper contact. Gods, if only Tuff hadn’t interrupted them! She wanted more of this, wanted to feel his touch, his closeness, and in return wanted to touch him, too. She wanted to feel him, skin on skin, like that first brushing of their fingers over Markor’s silken fur. But before her daydreaming could continue, and possibly be revealed by her dopey smile, the Countess luckily tore her out of her thoughts.

“Ah, but enough of that now. It surely is not a suitable topic for the innocent ears of young maidens,” she chatted on, oblivious or deliberately ignorant of how she’d been the one who’d brought up that topic in the first place. “I mainly came to thank you, Prince Daniel. It is so good to know that someone as capable as your Highness is defending our beautiful kingdom.”

Daniel frowned slightly. “We have many capable men serving in our army, soldiers and captains alike. I am but one among many, and I only try to do my best, just like everyone else,” he replied tersely. He was used to flattery, had been subjected to it all his life, and didn’t fall for that anymore. And if there was one thing he didn’t indulge, then it was slighting the men who fought along his side in battle.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise, Highness,” she backpaddled. “It was meant as more of a personal expression of gratitude. You see, Azure told me of her husband’s younger brother. You might not be aware of that, but he was one of that small group of noblemen who were captured by Malarian troops last summer. The whole family was in shock, devastated even. But thanks to your ransom-negotiations, he was returned unharmed.”

Daniel’s face lit up again. “Ah, yes, I remember. We had to give up a considerable amount of our booty and trade for a watchpost on the western slopes that we’d captured with almost no casualties, but getting our men back alive is more important.” He quirked his lip in a half-hidden smile and said in a tone of forced economy, “And it was just as well that we hadn’t begun repairs to any of the damage to that watchpost.”

“Oh, that would have been wasted effort indeed,” the Countess agreed. “But isn’t this tedious work?”

“What do you mean, ma’am?” Daniel asked, cocking his head in confusion. Astrid, who had all her attention on the conversation least her thought might wander again, found herself enjoying watching this; she could guess what was coming next, and was being reminded of the castle cats chasing each other.

“Well, the border is hundreds of miles long... Keeping track of all these outposts, castles, towns, passes, knowing who is where, remembering which fortifications need looking after, organizing men and supplies... How do you manage to handle it all, and still find the time to lead your men into battle?”

Astrid hid a smile as Daniel took the bait.

“Oh, certainly, keeping track of the logistical concerns and assorted baggage trains for the various units and detachments is a full-time endeavour for me and my men. But, while I know my way with a blade and on horseback, my calling has always been as a builder.” He shrugged. “Not the most martial of callings, I know, but I have turned it to the defence of our kingdom. So for me, assessing the defensiveness of a given castle, or drawing up plans to increase its defences against siege with minimal effort... well, those are the moments I most deeply enjoy.” He smiled warmly. “I dream of a day when I can build a castle so imposing that the raiders take one look and turn around to go home.”

Eret, his voice almost a little too innocent, chimed in, “But you do complain mightily about the logistics. I think that your exact comment in your last letter was ‘one twentieth part glory for every nineteen parts shovelling dung and juggling food supplies.’”

Daniel sighed. “I wish it was that good a ratio...”

Astrid caught Eret’s gaze and waggled her eyebrows, and there was no doubt that Eret had seen it too, as he raised a hand, pretending to rub at his nose when, in reality, he tried to hide the wide grin on his face.

The Countess, her eyes gleaming, said cheerfully, “If you don’t mind my input, Highness. I have the perfect solution for your problem.” She turned slightly and gently placed her hand on the shoulder of her youngest. “Viola here is also something of a budding scholar, with interests in all sorts of topics.” She grinned at Daniel, who had suddenly frozen like a deer hearing the snapping of a twig. “While she surely doesn’t reach your Highness’ skills, she has become quite proficient in her letters and numbers from the Priestesses of Frigga, and she has a fair and neat hand, with an aptitude for the clerical skills – organizing and the like. She could easily accompany you on your next expedition, to help you keep track of those lists and logistics.”

Daniel looked slightly trapped and started to stammer excuses – just like he’d done last year. Astrid managed to catch Viola’s eyes and gave her a brief sympathetic nod as her brother tried to explain that it wouldn’t be safe or suitable for a young maiden to accompany him; he’d be leaving soon, and winter travels were no respecters of rank. Viola, a year or two younger than Astrid, replied wordlessly with a grateful nod of her own, and Astrid would certainly admit that, for her at least, it had been entertaining to watch her brother squirm a bit.  Between the Countess’ hopeless attempts, her daughters’ discomfort, and Daniel's stony expressions, it was honestly quite hilarious from her perspective, and she saw how Eret’s lips twitched traitorously, too.

But then the older woman turned toward him instead, and began her praises about her other daughters, pointing out how fond of animals Alicia was and how her sister Marian used to help out in her father’s stables occasionally. Astrid stood back and resisted the urge to make funny faces at him from behind the Countess’ back – he’d scolded her for doing that two years ago. Just like Daniel, Eret was terrible at hiding his emotions, but, luckily, the Countess was equally blind to his reactions. Only her daughters looked like they wished the ground would open up and swallow them, and Astrid felt sympathy for them. They were actually nice girls, friendly and modest, just like young noble ladies were supposed to be. And if only half of what their mother said about their skills in tending to a household were true, they surely would make fine wives one day. It wasn't their fault that their mother was this annoying person, or that neither Eret or Daniel were interested in any way.

The Countess kept babbling on, and Astrid stopped listening, already knowing the script quite well. It was more or less the same at every given opportunity, after all. Absentmindedly, she stepped closer toward Eret as he moved his arm a little to the side, a clear invitation for her to wind her arm through the opening. It was a game they often played, pretending that there was more between them than friendship to deter unwanted admirers. It probably wouldn't work on the Countess, but one never knew.

She'd meant to make a further step to his side, distracted by the effort of keeping the pleasant smile on her face, her arm already halfway lifted, when it happened. Someone bumped into her, and everything happened at once.

A loud crash sounded through the room as a pair of glass pint mugs filled with beer – House Berserker's dark and strong brew, judging by the smell – landed on the floor beside her. She stumbled at the unexpected contact, and all eyes in the room were on her – drawn by the loud noise – as she was about to fall and land in the shards-scattered puddle.

And then a hand closed around her upper arm, a strong arm catching her around her waist. She didn't need to turn in order to know whose breath brushed over her neck, whose already so familiar gasp reached her ear, and whose hot skin was burning into hers right now.

Next Chapter

[quest-draws]

Excerpt from The Story of the Seven: Reconstructed, an archival initiative seeking to recreate Madame Lucretia’s original notes with as much accuracy as possible. The following has been compiled by comparing post-Story accounts from dozens of dedicated chroniclers, with oversight from Madame Lucretia and the available members of the Starblaster’s crew. 

Excerpt begins 

Cycle 36, day 6

     We’ve finally found a sign of civilization, as well as plausible evidence that we are all blind idiots. As we flew over yet more icy foothills, Merle (Of all of us!) noticed that one of the mounds appeared to be smoking. Under more careful examination we realized that these ‘foothills’ were actually snowed-covered buildings, meaning it is quite likely the other foothills we’ve seen the past few days were also actually buildings. 

     We, the best and brightest of our deceased world, saviors of multiple realities, the last and only line of defense against the relentless malevolence of the Hunger, wasted nearly a week looking for signs of life when there were entire cities directly under our hull. At the risk of sounding pessimistic, I think this world may be fucked. 

     Now that we’ve realized our mistake, Captain wants us to backtrack and see if we can find a settlement closer to Lup and Barry’s original prediction of the Lights trajectory. However, Lup’s trying to convince him that we should do some reconnaissance in this village first. 

LT: Look, there’s no point going backwards in this fuckin’ blizzard if we can just-

CD: -We are way, way off, the- they’re your calculations? Do you- 

BB: [crosstalk] They’re our calculations, Lu

LT: [crosstalk] I know.

TT: [crosstalk] You calculated ‘em. calc-calculated the shit outta- 

[LT puts up a hand to silence the others]

LT: Look I’m not dunking on my calculations, cause they’re tight as shit, ‘natch; outside looks like someone put a flock of doves through a woodchipper. You wanna fly through that?

CD: [crosstalk] I’m not- 

MB: [crosstalk] Gross?

LT: [crosstalk] Been flying six days straight, you wanna keep, keep flyin’- 

CD: I don’t wanna fly through the scenario you just made me visualize, no. This is just snow. 

[MB raises his hand kind of awkwardly. Mags, c’mon, you’re not 12]

MB: Uuum, Cap’nport? No offense but you look kinda beat, are you sure?

CD: Wh- excuse me. Are you questioning my piloting abilities, Magnus?

MB: [crosstalk] ‘Course not, just-

CD: [crosstalk] I’ve flown us through, through literal eldritch death pillars - 

MH: [crosstalk] ...do look a little tired -  

MB: I know!

[captain gets out of the pilots seat, oh dear]

CD: What was that? Merle? 

LT: It’s been nearly a week, Captain. You haven’t slept. 

CD: Neither have you!

LT: Yeah, and I’m pissed about it! 

BB: look everyone’s a little frazzled- 

MH: I’m fine. 

BB: [crosstalk] Merle, oh my-

LT: [crosstalk] Merle!

TT: [crosstalk] Hahaha holy fuck Merle! Not the time?

CD: You know what, okay, fine! Okay, we’ll vote. Let’s vote. Who thinks we should go down there? 

[Lup, Mag  LT, MB, and BB all put up their hands]

CD: All right, and who says we should turn back?

[CD, TT, and MH put up their hands]

CD: Lucretia.

TT: Lu- Baby-Lu, fuckin’ put dowait I forgot to put myhandupfuck

LC: I’m not answering to that, but I do thin k 

[TT attepts to take my fuckin

Taako tried to take my journal, and while I understand his intentions it’s imperi

BABY LU NEEDS TO STOP WRITING OUR CONVERSATIONS IN REAL TIME AND PAY ATTENTION TO THE WORLD AROUND HER

BABY LU WILL GET HER JOURNAL BACK WHEN THE GROWN UPS DECIDE WHAT WERE DOING IN THIS FROZEN FUCKING HELLSCAPE 

     After my journal was so rudely stolen, we decided that it would be best to have some of the crew investigate the settlement while the others got some rest. Captain landed the Starblaster just out of sight (not far with the weather) and Lup, Magnus and I made our way into town on foot. We were ushered into the smoking building Merle first noticed almost as soon as we were in sight of it. It’s apparently some sort of tavern/town hall, with one long, open room punctuated by tables and some truly massive support beams. 

     Chiana, the innkeeper (or possibly Mayor? Chief? They are definitely some measure of authority figure) was quite unsettled by our sudden appearance. It’s apparently unusual for people to travel between communities at this time of year, especially in the middle of the night (which it apparently is. We seriously lost track of time with the storm blocking out the suns). They’ve insisted on putting us up until the storm settles some. We have of course accepted, but we decided that it might be best not to mention our true intentions here. They were spooked just by us appearing in a blizzard, we don’t need to bring up the rest of it. We notified Capn’port that we’ll be staying a few days to gather info, and since then Lup and Magnus have been having quite the time chatting with the assorted patrons/guests. 

     This really is quite a spectacular building. The ceiling is only about 7 ft. high (Lup and Mags can both touch the ceiling), but it’s so wide and long it doesn’t feel cramped. It’s hard to estimate how large it is exactly; the hall is a patchwork of additions, none of which quite match up. Here an extra nook were the hall was widened, there a slight indent were an old support must have collapsed. Wood flooring giving way to tile, tile being overtaken by carpet, and then carpet receding back to wood again. The support beams are the only consistent element, solid blocks of wood punctuating the room at even intervals. 

    But the room’s really dominated by the kitchens and the dance floor. The kitchens are spaced along the northern wall about 50 ft. from one another, one in each corner and the last right in the center. The latter is the only one operational at the moment, and Chiana’s not making anything more complicated than some mulled cider (which, for the sake of accurate chronicling, I must say is delicious). I thought at first the stove here was heating the hall, and while it’s fairly large on closer inspection that doesn’t seem plausibe. It’s far too warm, even in the farther corners. I suppose the surrounding snow might provide some insulation? 

     Besides that, there’s a raised dance platform in the center of the hall, in front of the middle kitchen. Lup’s dragged Magnus and a two middle aged women onto it, though there isn’t any music at this hour. She's currently waving at me to come join them. I’ve been nursing the drink Chianna gave me so I’d have an excuse to stay seated, but I think I’d better relent before Lup tries to physically drag me up there. They’re really acting silly tonight, but I suppose we all needed to blow off some steam. 

     Alright. Okay. I probably should have noticed this when I first started drinking, but the alcohol here seems to be quite a bit stronger then I’m used too? Or what Lup and Magnus are used too. I didn’t notice until I went out on the dance floor and I kind of tripped but at first I thought that was just me being clumsy or tired, but then when I started actually dancing it was worse like, I’m usually a good dancer. And Lup was acting especially silly and so was magnus, even though he should have a better constitution than us because he’s not a squishy wizard he’s a beefcake. Lup said that. 

Fuck okay I am definitely a little tipsy here I should stop writing. But I was going to write somethig down it was important? we were dancing, and then I was stumbling and I said like Lup I feel kinda tipsy but I only had one drink and she said Aaaaaww ‘Creesha, you are suuuuuuuuuch a lightweight lol but then she fell over and Magnus laughed and one of the ladies we were dancing with asked how much she’d had and shed had three, which made them laugh because apparently threes a lot here. And then we all sat down for a bit and we were talking about travelling and it was kind bullshit because we are trying to blend but we mentioned THE LIGHT THAT 

THAT WAS IT LIGHT LIGT light the light what was that aaaaah what was OH MY GOD I CAN’T REMEMBER THE REST FUCK I [[handwriting becomes illegible]]

okay okay I went back to talk again and I had a few more drinks because chiana gave me more drinks they are actually super sweet i mean chianna. Chianas super sweet. They actualysaw  the light when it landed sorta they saw a flash through the storm but not in the direction we came. Lup’s been trying to redo her calculations on some napkins she thinks the blizzard had something to do with it but shes still  really smashed I dont think now a good time for math Lup 

Lucretia darling are you gonna nag me or are you gonna oh my god I dont know how to spell half those words Lup Im a fucking drunk journalist dont pull the fucking jargon out on me

Barry please tell me what Lups saying in words drunk  journalist understands

A drunk? Lucretia? Whats going on?

Lup: Baaaaaarrry holy shit did you remember to to do the thing for the storm

BB: Lup? Lup you’re- Lucretia give your stone to Lup I can hardly understand her

LT: hiiiiiiiiiiiii barold, hiiiiiiiii, we fucked uuuuuup

BB: oh wow youre super smashed

LT we fucked up Barry! we didnt-interference! the storm created interference and we fucked up the direction and

BB Lup that doesn’t make anysense? our equipment relies mostly on magical energy unless the storm has arcane origins

LT: oh hey, MORRISON DOES THE STORM HAVE ARCANE ORIGINS?

Morison: MS: (shes one of the dancing ladies) I dunno where arcane is but the storms local. amma constein cursed the whole country side bout 20 years ago after liddy halloway dumped her

SEE BARRY

BB: okay yeah that would definitely throw off our readings but its not like we could have known that beforehand. I mean we know now, so I suppose its a good thing you guys went down there even if you also got fucking wasted, for some reason

?: whose fucking wasted (oh its taako

TT: heeeey chucklefucks whats this about you getting crunk on your uuuuh super important potentially, world saving info gathering mission?

MB taako taaaaaakoooooooo booze is super cool down here? I had a bunch

TT: eh yup I could guess

MB: but not like a super bunch? A little bunch. Its suuuuper strong its great

TT hahaha oh. oh you are so lucky cap’nports asleep. What about you, baby lu? tell me-tell me you, at least are treating this mission with the uh, gravity and maturity it fucking-fucking nesessitates fuck you taako im 58

TT whelp haha BB please just give m emy stone back  

im 5 fucking 8!!! Im not a baby godamnit. Im a grown ass women ill get as crunk as I fuckin wanna on this sweet ass booze and you cant have any taako you bitch hahahahha oh my god lucy someone please tell me shes still writing this down I nee

taakos a jackass im a grown fucking ass women an he wasnt even really a hundred when he joined cause hes a LIAR and A JERK comparatively in terms of relativ ageing im more an adult then him but he still calls me baby lu he could call me lucy or creesh like Lup calls me that i love her she? so nice Lup brought me another drink and we danced more but not well cause everthings floaty and I lay down so my head wouldnt float to high the ceilings still really low Lup lay down with e and magnus came in he was screaming cause he went out in the snow he was trying to do the dip thing were you go in a hot spring right after but theres no spring only cold magnus. everythigs only cold magnus why do you do this to yourself?magnus. chiana is making him sit by the stove in the kitchen and they wont give us any more drinks i told them i was 58 and also an alien but that didnt convince them which is probably fair. they dont know. taako knows he has no excuse

chianna gave us a room and its really dark its in the basement it super warm I think there actually is a hot spring but like underneath sorry mags that probablywhat you were thinking but still. super dumb. god Im gonna be so bad in the morning. the storms clearing up a little so well probably go then I hope captains not mad Im not sure he knows but we proly found the light so he cant be too mad. I  need sleep. I need to sleep. good night journal Ill miss you love Lucretia

Cycle 36, day 7

Firstly, I am never drinking again. Ever. Secondly, as soon as I get back to the ship, I am burning these pages. Posterity is not worth this level of embarrassment. 

Cycle 36, day 8

     Lup, Magnus and I had some trouble getting back. Though we weren’t nearly as intoxicated as the previous night, we weren’t precisely sober either. Between Magnus stopping to puke every five minutes, Lup’s persisting lack of balance, my truly excruciating headache, and all the motherfucking, goddamned snow, we nearly got lost on the mile-long hike back to the ship. The others had a field day teasing us, and I can’t even be mad at them for it. Looking over my own notes is literally, viscerally painful. To reiterate: I am never. Drinking. Again.

     I am not going to destroy those pages, however. It’s the only written account I have of what Chiana and the others told us about the Light, and it would be irresponsible to get rid of them before we’ve properly found it. Besides, Lup and Taako both practically begged me to keep it in. I don’t understand why Lup want’s this reminder of our idiocy to remain in tact, but damn she is hard to argue with. She’s also tried to insist that “baby-Lu” is a compliment, but won’t explain how so. I take back all the nice things drunk me said about her. 

     Maybe later I’ll go back and just stick a summary were those pages are, but for the mean time they’ll have to stay.

      I spent most of yesterday just resting, once we got back. I don’t think I honestly realized how tired I was until then. It’s only been 8 days since the last apocalypse, most of which we spent searching, frantic and blind in a literally cursed blizzard. Much as I hate to say it, I may need to take Taako’s advice and stop chronicling in real time. Just for a bit. I’ll pick it up again when we find the Light. 

     Time to go save another world.

End of excerpt. 

[editors note: Can I just formally request that, should we ever see Fisher and Junior again, I be permitted to feed these pages to them, in hopes that they might be erased permanently this time? Please?

- LC ]

[editors note: Madame Lucretia’s request is noted and denied.

- TT ] 

[rememberthattime]

Chapter 52. Finnish Lapland

I’m writing this introduction from our flight from London Gatwick. It is 6:14 AM. Cold and rainy. We’ve been up since 4, and even my few hours of sleep were interrupted by relentless coughing. I should feel tired and angry.

But instead I’m bursting with anticipation - like my body can’t handle the excitement (maybe that’s the reason for my cough?).

This is Chelsay and I’s first weekend trip, and as the plane makes its way to the runway, I’m remembering the #1 reason we moved back: accessible travel, starting with this weekend’s trip to the Finnish Lapland.

Our second round of European adventures began with this road trip to Nellim, Finland, an extremely remote town of 150 people tucked 250 miles into the Arctic Circle, just five miles from the Russian border.

However, before writing about our three days in Finland, I want to quickly cover our first three weeks in London.

I could talk about our return to Richmond Park, about our walks through Soho and the reminders of how “cool” London is, or about how we found our flat in Hampstead within 24 hours of arriving... All of that was great, but I really only want to write about one thing: Indy.

Yes, 12 year old Chelsay’s dream finally came true. As a kid, she’d tell her mom she was going to live in London (...she watched a lot of Mary Poppins). She would have a great job and a nice husband. But most importantly: she would have a border collie named Indiana Jones. This dream came true when Chels and I traveled up to Derby, England to visit a puppy litter. All of the puppies had chubby butts, but our little Indy was easy to spot: tail wagging, stomping over his puppy siblings, and already showing affection to his new parents. It was love at first site.

We won’t get to take little Indy home for a few more weeks, but that hasn’t slowed Chelsay’s “puppy mom” obsession. We bought his crate and fence on the ride home from Derby. We’ve been watching hours of dog training videos on YouTube. I’m receiving dozens of texts each day with the same puppy picture. ...Who am I kidding though? I’m just as much of an obsessed “puppy dad”.

That one Indy story means you’re caught up on our first three weeks in London. Back to our first trip.

There’s always a buzz when you’re going somewhere new, and that’s especially true in Europe. Every country is so accessible yet so unique. Spain is nothing like Sweden nor Morocco. They’re all just three hours away, but might as well be on different planets.

This was proven true as our plane descended into Finland. The landscape was whiter than a Dave Mathews concert. Snow everywhere. No patches of civilization, just patches of evergreen forests covered in more white. We took off in metropolitan London and landed literally in the Arctic Circle.

If this was evident on the flight in, it became especially clear as we left the airport. I asked our rental agent for the car keys and he looked back at me as if it were obvious: “They’re in the car - I started it 30 minutes ago.”

As we stepped out the airport doors, I realized why this should’ve been obvious — and also why his directions to the car were so emphatic. Everything was frozen, including the car had he not started it earlier. Chelsay and I would’ve been frozen too if we didn’t literally dive into the car.

After barely avoiding frostbite, my first thought upon hitting the road was “How can people survive here?” It’s just snow, ice, and sub-zero temperatures for months!

But the Finnish rightly play up their winter wonderland. In fact, it’s close enough to the North Pole that Lapland claims to be the Home of Santa. Yes, of all the places in the entire world, Santa chose Rovaniemi, Finland to set up shop. What an honor.

After a brief stop at Santa’s offices, we hit the road for our four-hour drive to Nellim. This place is remote, and that was exactly the intention. My two goals for the trip were (1) to see the Northern Lights and (2) to walk through snowy, silent Finish forests. Heading as far into Lapland as possible gave us the best chances for both.

The drive was a breeze: we had studded tires for the icy roads, and a James Acaster audiobook for entertainment. Plus the landscape kept us in awe - tall spruce forests lined the roadway and the black concrete was covered in ice, loose snow whipping around in the wind.

We were conscious of daylight on our drive up. In winter, the sun technically rises at 9:30 AM and sets at 3 PM. I say “technically” because there is actually far more daylight thanks to Nautical and Civil twilight, two things I’d never heard of before this trip. Given Lapland’s latitude, sunrise and sunset last about two hours each — rather than have a defined light time and dark time, Finnish days are just caught in perpetual semi-visibility... In addition to being “Home to Santa”, Lapland is apparently also the Twilight Zone.

Stop it Mike.

Anyway, we arrived at Nellim Wilderness Resort after sunset and nautical twilight and civil twilight and any other twilight. It was dark, but there were still a few activities available our first evening.

First, our resort had an illuminated sled hill. We didn’t know about the sledding beforehand, but once we’d seen it, Chelsay and I couldn’t resist.

Our riding styles were absolutely on brand: Chelsay laughed and screamed the entire way down (reminding me of our ride on The Mummy roller coaster at Universal Studios).

Meanwhile, I took sledding to an extreme by riding headfirst (likely breaking my ribs with what Chelsay called “The Salmon Jump”), then later trying to surf down (likely breaking my back with what Chelsay called “The Concussion Tumble”).

We were in the right country to recover from our (my) frigid falls, because the Finns love a hot sauna. In fact, they invented it! 1000 years ago, some Viking named Olaf probably tried that sled-surf thing, and a smoky sauna was his novel therapy!

Luckily the resort’s saunas were private, because similar to sled-surfing, I introduced a new twist to an old tradition: no one in the history of saunas has ever sweat as much as I did. Olaf included.

Outside of sledding and saunas, the other big nighttime activity in Lapland is searching for the Aurora Borealis. The Northern Lights are fairly common this time of year: about 50/50. The problem was the weather was due to be overcast & snowing throughout, so Chelsay and I came in with zero expectation.

We mentioned this to the receptionist at Nellim, but she wasn’t giving up hope. She said to keep our eyes peeled for stars: if you can see the stars, there’s a break in the clouds and a chance to see the Aurora. It didn’t hurt that our room was 50% window.

Just as the receptionist predicted, we saw stars from about 10:30 to midnight. Staring out felt like being on a hunt, eyes dashing from one side of the sky to the other in hopes of seeing a green flash. Eventually I fell asleep, but the resort offers an Aurora alarm in case the lights appear.

Unfortunately there were no alarms either night.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed - the Northern Lights were one of the main reasons for visiting, and the brief star sightings provided a cruel tease of unwarranted hope. But the Aurora is just weather after all, and as the sun rose the next day, we remembered how cool it was to be in Nellim, Finland. Plus, the flip side of this snowy cloud cover was a clean and white-coated winter wonderland.

The fresh snow was perfect for our first activity of the day: dog sledding. These huskies were dying to get out and run, and I’ll never forget their excited gallop as we burst through the trees onto an open, frozen lake.

Chelsay and I switched off as driver, both flirting with danger. Chelsay nearly led us into Russia, while I ghost rode the sled. If you’re not familiar with ghost riding, it’s where you hop out of a moving (now driverless) vehicle and run beside it. Based on the look in our dogs’ eyes, I’m not sure they’d seen this before.

After the morning excitement, Chelsay and I had earned extra whipped cream on our hot chocolates. I’ll briefly mention the dining, which we both surprisingly enjoyed. Finnish food is not traditionally exciting (a lot of lingonberry and reindeer), but the Wilderness Resort came through for each meal: tasty lamb shanks, potatoes gratin, mushroom risotto, panna cotta, and more. And obviously a lot of hot chocolate.

We regained enough energy over lunch for our afternoon activity: snow shoeing. We planned to be out for a few hours, so bundled up in three layers of everything: socks, leggings, sweaters. We even doubled up on gloves.

Now insulated from the sub zero temperatures, we were motoring around the quiet, empty wilderness in no time. Nothing but clean snow and creaky timber for miles. Chelsay said it reminded her of the land of swirly twirly gumdrops from Elf: “Byeee Buddyyyy”

We climbed up hills, slid down slopes, trekked across frozen lakes, forged our own paths through the deep snow, and tracked the only other footprints we could find: wolf and reindeer.

Just as the sun was setting (at 3 PM), Chelsay and I stumbled into a peaceful and perfect grove. It was a beautiful setting and the most memorable moments I’ll take from the trip.

The evergreen branches were coated in snowy white clumps, the crisp air was cold in our chests, and the only sound we could hear was crunch... crunch... crunch... as we gently shuffled across the deep snow.

We returned to our room with that “exhausted but content” feeling. Our quads were burning but we’d accomplished what we came for.

That night, we enjoyed another remedial sauna - this one was somehow sweatier than the last. We didn’t have any energy or unbroken bones left for sledding that night, so we instead stayed in our room and watched Parasite (great movie) while sipping hot chocolate. I doubt I’ll remember what JOMO meant when I read this in 20 years, but this night describes it well.

We were making the long drive back to Rovaniemi around lunch the next day, but had plenty of time for morning walk. This time we attempted to go without snow shoes, but quickly realized that walking through deep snow is hard! Your feet sink with every step, and you have to contort your legs up & out of the snow to make any progress.

Chelsay compared it to the Sahara, except instead of sinking ankle-deep in sand, we were literally waist-deep. Luckily we persevered long enough to stumble across a pack of reindeer.

With our quads burning, we figured the reindeer sighting was a good enough cap to our Lapland adventure. Sure, I wish we’d seen the Northern Lights, but Chelsay and I are still very content with our first trip back in Europe.

I say that without any doubt. Rewinding to our flight from London: Lapland’s frozen landscapes exceeded the “new city” excitement I felt as our departing plane rolled toward the runway.

Lapland is a different planet: part winter wonderland, part uninhabitable wasteland. Its frigid wilderness is unlike any of the previous places we’ve visited, but the craziest part is that it was all so easily accessible. Chelsay and I were 250 miles into the Arctic Circle, literally a short walk into Russia’s northernmost territories, yet remained just a three hour flight from London.

That’s why we moved back: because every trip Chelsay and I take has the potential to bring us somewhere new, special, and completely different from anywhere we’ve ever been.

I can’t wait for our next departing plane to roll its way to the runway.

[iishipallthethings]

Three is (not) a crowd

Story Summary:  Two months after Kuvira was defeated, things have finally settled down in Republic City. For better or for worse, Avatar Korra is ready to talk to Asami about the Unspoken Thing between them, however there's something Asami had been hiding from her friends. And that something is Lin Beifong.

Chapter 8: Pema to the Rescue!

“In other news, a tragedy occurred in Zaofu so soon after its own Kuvira attempted to destroy Republic City with a giant mecha suit.”

Korra’s head jerked up at the name of the city. She turned her head to look at the radio she had turned on after she had went to her room. Korra got up and turned the volume down in case there was someone walking by her door.

“There was an explosion that toppled one of the domes.”

Korra’s eyes widened in shock. Lin didn’t say that one of the domes was destroyed!

“At this time, we have found the bodies of sixty civilians and two of Republic City’s officers, but more are expected to be recovered. Suyin Beifong herself was hurt during the blast but it does not appear to be critical. It is unclear if it was an accident or an act of terrorism. Suyin Beifong and the Chief of Police, Lin Beifong, have not yet commented on the explosion. Some are starting to question whether Lin Beifong, daughter of Toph Beifong, the former Chief of Police for Republic City, is still fit to be Chief of Police or if-”

Korra turned off the radio and was tempted to throw it out the window. She restrained herself to giving the contraption a punch but she put too much power into the blow. The radio flew into the wall and laid destroyed on the table. Korra only gave the broken machinery a huff before unplugging it so it wouldn’t start a fire. Maybe if she hurried tomorrow, she could get a new one without anyone realizing that this one was broken. Korra nodded to herself at the course of action and threw the piece of junk away.

She left the room before she could punch something else. Korra took calming breaths as she walked through the temple towards the training grounds. Today she was supposed to teach the airbenders about the Spirit World. Korra had tried to give the responsibility to Tenzin, Jinora, and Bumi but each one turned her down. She even tried to ask Meelo to fill in for her but Tenzin put a stop to that in an instant.

Once again she became a tide of airbenders walking to their studies. Korra had to maneuver around a few of them to reach the doors that led outside. Air Temple Island was getting very crowded since the destruction of the Northern Air Temple forced the rest of the airbenders to move back to the island. Korra considered moving out several times but she knew it wasn’t feasible. She may not have to worry about buying food and other things, but being the Avatar also meant she didn’t have an actual paycheck. Perhaps she could move into Asami’s mansion. Korra dismissed the idea at once. She couldn’t ask her friend for something like that, especially considering everything happening between the two of them and Lin. Korra raked a hand through her hair and tried to recall what she meant to tell her class.

Korra walked to the meditation area and saw twenty pairs of eyes train on her. She took another deep breath and smiled at the airbenders. She saw one of them raise a hand to wave at her and she was relieved to see that it belonged to Bumi. His dragonfly bunny spirit friend, Bum-Ju, flew over his head and chirped happily at the sight of Korra. He zoomed over to the Avatar and circled her once before going back to Bumi. Korra almost laughed at the bright pink sweater the spirit was wearing and was grateful that Bumi hadn’t attempted to make one for her yet. It did look comfy but Korra did not pull off pink well, especially bubblegum fluffy pink. Asami might though.

“Hello everyone,” Korra called out and was greeted in turn by the airbenders. She took a seat in front of the airbenders and assumed the lotus position. The others did the same without prompting and Korra cleared her throat. “Okay, so the Spirit World. It’s a world with, well, spirits.” Korra felt her cheeks burn as all the points she meant to say refused to come back to her mind. “Currently there’s three portals that allows people to directly enter the Spirit World. They’re found at the North and South Poles and of course the one in Republic City.” Korra trailed off, not sure what else to tell the airbenders. She could list off everything she knew about the Spirit World, but Tenzin likely covered that already which would leave Korra looking like a fool.

“Is it true that you can’t bend when you’re in the Spirit World?”

Korra didn’t see who called out the question but she was glad to have something to talk about. “Yes, but only if you meditate into the Spirit World.” Everyone was listening intently and Korra felt a boost in confidence. “You leave your physical body behind so you can’t connect with the elements. However, if you physically enter the Spirit World, you can still use the elements but you need to be careful. Spirits don’t like it when you try to bend at them.” She grinned sheepishly as she explained her trying to bend at several meerkat spirits. The airbenders were laughing by the end of her tale, Bumi loudest of them all. Korra didn’t mind the laughter, it actually made her more relaxed and she started to recall the things she wanted to talk about.

“The Spirit World is amazing. Every spirit you see here is only a fraction of what they actually are.” Almost like he could sense it, Bum-Jun zipped to Korra. The Avatar smiled when he landed in her lap and scratched under his chin. Bum-Jun chirped again and rubbed his head against her hand. “Don’t ever think that you’re stronger or smarter than them because in their world, they rule. They can sense your emotions and that can literally change their world. If you’re good, truly good, they will flock to you.” Bum-Jun chirped once more before flying back to Bumi.

The airbenders shot off more questions and Korra answered them with ease. This was way easier than she thought it was going to be. The airbenders were paying attention and were actually interested in what she had to say.

“What about that dark spirit a few years back?” one of the airbenders asked. “He was huge and almost wrecked the city before you stopped him as a giant blue woman.”

Korra realized what the airbender was talking about and a hush fell over the crowd. Bum-Jum sensed the change in the atmosphere because he zoomed closer to Bumi and chirped erratically. Bumi managed to calm the spirit down with a few soft words and hugs. “That was Vaatu,” Korra answered. She could see Bumi shaking his head. “They deserved to know the truth. It is said that in the beginning of this world there were two spirits: Raava and Vaatu. Raava was the spirit of light and peace while Vaatu was the spirit of darkness and chaos. They fought each other every ten thousand years on the day of Harmonic Convergence to decide the fate of this world.”

“Couldn’t Raava just destroy Vatuu?” another airbender asked.

“No,” Korra said with a shake of her head. “Even if Raava destroyed Vatuu, one cannot exist without the other. Eventually Vaatu would be reborn and the fighting would continue.” She saw the concern on some of the airbender’s faces and grinned. “It would be the same if Vaatu destroyed Raava. In fact, it actually happened.” She told the story of how her uncle had tricked her into opening the Spirit Portal in the South Pole and fused his spirit with Vaatu. She had to answer many questions about it and time slipped away as she continued her story of how Raava was destroyed by Unalaq but she was able to reconnect with the light spirit in the Spirit World. She didn’t talk about Zaheer and losing her connection with Raava. They deserved to know some things but others were too personal.

“Now that the Spirit World and the Physical World are reconnected, there is a possibility of another Unalaq,” she warned the airbenders. They all took the words seriously, even Bumi. “Power is tempting, believe me I know. There was a point in my life that I would have given anything to not be hurt again. I might have given up my own humanity. But we can’t lose ourselves to those urges. Your job as the new generation of airbenders and mine as the Avatar is to protect the world and teach humans and spirits to coexist with one another.” Korra smiled at Bumi and Bum-Jun. “Like them.”

Korra continued to talk about the Spirit World and answer questions that the airbenders had. It was a long time before the Avatar dismissed them but it didn’t feel like it. She got up to start heading back to her room but Bumi stopped her.

“That was really good, Korra. I don’t think I ever got through a lesson without falling asleep,” Bumi beamed down at her. Despite having no blood relations, Korra came to look at the man like an estranged uncle. “Maybe you could Tenzin a few pointers.”

“Thanks, Bumi but no,” Korra laughed. “The last time someone gave Tenzin a few tips he apparently became like a drill sergeant. I wonder what idiot thought that was a good idea.”

Bumi stared at Korra for a few moments before he cleared his throat. “Yeah, that airbender really was stupid,” he chuckled weakly. Korra tilted her head at her friend’s strange behavior. “Well, anyway I got to go knit a new sweater for Bum-Jun.” The spirit zipped around Bumi’s head at the mention of a new sweater. “Now, now, you like this one, don’t you? I’ll use softer thread this time and it’ll have a bow!” Bumi walked away from Korra while he talked to the spirit about the sweater he was going to make him.  

Korra watched the two for a time before she began to make her way to the stables. She fed the airbison some hay and patted their heads. The Avatar went to the last stall where Naga was napping. Once the airbison had made permanent living quarters in the temple, the polarbeardog had claimed one of the stalls as her own. The polarbeardog lifted her head at the sight of Korra and her tail thumped against the ground.

“Hey, Naga,” Korra whispered, kissing the crown of Naga’s head. It didn’t matter that the animal easily dwarfed Korra, she would always be her baby. Korra scratched behind Naga’s right ear and laughed as a hind leg thudded against the ground. “Wanna go for a quick run?” Naga perked up at the word and whined. Korra smiled and went about securing her saddle. Once it was done, the two walked out of the stalls to the outskirts of Air Temple Island. The island didn’t offer nearly as much room as the base in the South Pole but it was enough for the two to run for some time. Korra mounted Naga and pushed her heels into the polarbeardog’s sides as she gave the command to run. They dashed along the trails on the edges of the island where the grass first meets the beaches. Korra laughed as Naga ran faster, the polarbeardog sensing the Avatar’s excitement and it was feeding her own. It was too long since they had a good run just for the fun of it. The Avatar leaned down as they ran under a low hanging tree. It took more times than Korra would like to admit for her to learn to press her body against Naga’s back when they neared the tree. Korra spotted a hill fast approaching them and she squeezed her thighs to spur Naga to run faster. “Ready, girl?” The polarbeardog huffed as they raced up the hill and leapt off the crest. Unfortunately for the two, Pema was on the other side, carrying vegetable from the garden.

Both Korra and Pema yelled out in alarm at the sight of one another. Pema managed to dive out of the way as Naga landed right where she was standing a second before. Korra jumped off Naga to make sure the older woman was okay, apologizing profusely all the while.

“Oh spirits, are you okay Pema!? Naga and I didn’t see you!” Korra helped Pema back to her feet and grabbed what vegetables that weren’t squished in the fall.

“I’m fine, Korra, really!” Pema said, brushing off the dirt from her clothes. “I raised Meelo, I’m used to being knocked down every once in awhile.” She grabbed the remaining vegetables and looked up at Naga. “Do you think you could give me ride back to the temple though?”

Korra helped the nonbender up on Naga and the three set off back to the temple. Korra talked about her first class experience and Pema listened attentively. One the two were back to the temple, several airbender acolytes came to take Naga back to the stables. Korra made them promise to give the polerbeardog a treat for being a good girl and Korra made her own promise of bringing some food for the animal after dinner. Naga licked Korra’s face and followed the acolytes as Korra followed Pema into the kitchens.

The two women set about cleaning the vegetables and cutting them. Even though the cooking duties went to the acolytes, Pema liked to help, especially since Rohan refused to eat anything that Pema didn’t prepare. Korra was cutting away the skin of the carrots as she remembered that the older woman helped her with her conflicting feelings about Mako.

“Hey, Pema?” Korra began, keeping her hands busy so it didn’t seem that she was desperate for help, which she was.

“Who is it this time?” Pema asked without looking up from the potatoes she was washing.

Korra startled at the question and almost cut her finger but she let go of the peeler in time. She managed to keep the utensil from falling to the ground with metalbending. “What are you talking about, Pema? Who's this who person?”

Pema did look up from her vegetables long enough to give Korra a knowing look. “Every time someone talks to me while I’m cooking or cleaning it’s for relationship advice.”

“Oh,” Korra said. She looked back to the half peeled carrot. “Can I ask for some or should I just get back to peeling?”

“Of course you can ask,” Pema said smiling softly. “I like helping. It’s why I became an acolyte in the first place, after all.”

Korra nodded and took a deep breath before she launched into her problem. “Okay, so I like this person who's with another person. Well, I mean they aren’t together publicly but they’re still together. Anyway I still have feelings for the first person even though I know that person is off limits but then I started to be around the person the first person is dating and I think I’m starting to have feelings for that person. But I know I shouldn’t because that person is with the first person but I have feelings for that person too and I don’t know what to do and I could really use some advice right now,” Korra finished, her chest burning from her hasty talking.

Pema was fully facing Korra, the knife in her hand and the vegetables in front of her completely forgotten. “What?”

Korra repeated what she said, still not naming Lin and Asami.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Pema had put the knife down as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “You like two people who are in a relationship together.”

“Yeah but they have to keep it a secret because if word gets out it could seriously jeopardize their careers.”

“Because they work together,” Pema was starting to get the picture.

Korra shook her head and gestured with the peeler and carrot still in her hands. “No, they work two completely separate jobs. It’s just that if it came out that they were seeing each other, it would make one of them look seriously bad and right now she doesn’t need that.” Korra snapped her mouth shut when she realized she had said “she” but the damage was already done. Now Pema would know that she liked a woman.

Pema could see the beginnings of fear in Korra’s eyes and was quick to stop it. “Korra, it’s okay if one of them is a woman.” She shrugged and resumed cutting the potatoes. “Love is love, right? The airbenders believed that and so should the rest of the world.” Pema looked back at the Avatar who was still staring at her. “Do you think either of them like you back?”

“Well, no, maybe, I don’t know.” Korra almost rubbed the back of her neck before she remembered she was holding a carrot. She put it and the peeler down and was glad that the two of them had the kitchen to themselves at that moment so she could speak openly. “I mean there is something between me and one of them but then I found out she was dating, well, another woman.”

This did shock Pema and it was clear in her voice. “I didn’t know Asami liked other women.”

Korra jumped at the name like Pema had shocked her with an equalist weapon. First Lin, then Bolin, and now Pema! Did everyone knew that she fell for the duchess!?

The older woman rolled her eyes at the reaction and smiled at her. “It is obvious, you know. You stare at her when you don’t think she’ll notice.” A blush spread on Korra’s face and it deepened at Pema’s next words. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Asami liked you too. She stared back at times.” Her face sobered as her hands stilled on the vegetables, giving Korra her full attention once more. “But this other woman, what about her? Do you think she likes you too?”

Korra thought about the question. It was loaded and honestly Korra didn’t have a cut-and-dry answer for Pema. “We’re okay now, I think? I know we’re at a lot better standing now than when we first met.” Korra remembered first meeting Lin through her arrest and back talking her. That was really stupid, Korra realized. “She knows about my feelings for Asami and she gets jealous.” The Avatar felt like her entire face was on fire as she admitted. “And it might be more physical than anything else.”

Pema nodded and she was quiet for a bit as she thought of what to say. Korra was in a very… interesting situation. “Have you considered telling them?”

“What!? No way!” Korra balked immediately. The two women were only now dating in earnest and Korra didn’t want to mess it up with her feelings. “I can’t just, you know, tell them I like them. I don’t even know if I really like Li-Lizy,” Korra was able to change the Chief’s name at the last moment.

If Pema knew who Korra was really talking about, she didn’t show it. “Korra, you fought Amon, Unalaq when he fused with Vaatu, Zaheer, and Kuvira.” She gave Korra’s arm an affectionate and comforting squeeze. “You can be open about your feelings.”

“But they were all things I could punch,” Korra argued. “And what if they say no?” That was her greatest fear. She was terrified that she wasn’t enough for the two women. She might be the Avatar but she was also Korra.

Pema gave Korra a motherly smile. “Isn’t it better for you to get a definite answer instead of wondering ‘what if?’ I’ve been in your shoes, Korra, and it hurts too much to be left wondering.”

Korra sighed and nodded. “You’re right.”

“Then do what you did with Mako, just without the fighting and breaking up at the end.”

Korra hugged Pema and thanked the older woman for her advice. The two finished cutting up the vegetables and Korra left Pema to go to her room. She had about half an hour to kill before dinner was served. She grabbed her phone before she could rethink things and dialed Asami’s number.

“Hello, this is Ms. Sato of Future Industries,” Asami answered on the second ring.

“Hey Ms. Sato, this is Avatar Korra,” Korra chuckled back. “Listen, I was wondering if you were free anytime soon.”

There was sounds of paper being moved around from Asami’s end and Korra guessed that the duchess was looking for her schedule. “I’ll be free tomorrow. Why? Do you want to invite the boys over to have another race?”

Korra grinned at the competitive tone Asami used. She could feel her belly bend into a knot but she got the words out. “Tomorrow is great. Actually I was wondering if you could invite Lin over.”

Asami didn’t say anything and Korra’s knot tightened. “Did something happen?” Asami finally asked. Korra could hear the concern in her voice. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Korra said, not sure if she was lying or not. “I just need to get some stuff off of my chest.”

“Oh,” now there was apprehension in Asami’s voice. “I can have Lin over tomorrow. Let’s say around five?”

“Five sounds good.” Korra said. The two said goodbye and Korra hung up. She looked down at the phone and realized that her knuckles were white from clutching the phone too tight. She set it back to its stand and got on her bed. Korra grabbed her pillow and hugged it to her chest. She could feel her heart pound and wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or fear for her talk with the two women tomorrow.

[memorylang]

Five Thanksgivings in Snowy Mongolia! | #14 | November 2019

Thanksgiving’s season marks my one-year anniversary since accepting my invitation to Peace Corps Mongolia. This Thanksgiving, I reflected on all I’m grateful for. And I celebrated it nearly a week, thanks to Mongolia’s Independence Day and Chinggis Khaan’s Birthday leading up to Americans’ day of thanks! Plus, unrestricted weekend travel in-country began.

I’ve been grateful especially for my students and the time to reflect on life and relationships. Part of why I chose Peace Corps after college was to refocus on people I hadn’t spent as much time with while a busy undergraduate. 

You can compare this to my story #4 (August 2019), from when I first arrived in my current city. Preceding Thanksgiving, I also shared a novena of photos and reflections from my first five Mongolia months, from training to beginning my service.

Snaking Snow

Many Mongolians call winter their favorite season. I like snow.

One morning, while seeing the glistening light blue snow merge with the horizon’s blend of smog, my view looked beautiful but bittersweet.

While leaving the orphanage one day, powder snow skirt across the creamy surface snow, blasting freeze in my face. They remind me of the summer’s dust storms, yet these stings linger.

I had never felt face-numbing cold before. Every exposed side of my face felt cold. I pulled down my beanie to even keep my eyebrows warm. I wrapped my scarf around my head to protect my cheeks. Even still, the furthest edges of my cheeks numbed. I get used to it, though. Best to bundle up!

Snowy Thanksgiving Adventures

This Thanksgiving outside America, I basically celebrated five times. Recalling the White Christmas ideal, we’d snow blanketing our Thanksgiving world.

First, I celebrated it Monday at a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer’s secondary school, with snacks for her and her students. She made amazing bread pudding. I enjoyed meeting her students again, too, since they participate in our student community English club.

Then the volunteer and I met again Thursday night (Thanksgiving Day) for the community dinner she helped with at the coffee shop of our World Vision building. As it happens, I dropped by the coffee shop to write, ran into our German volunteer friend, then stayed. An American couple from the Jesus Assembly group hosted the dinner. I felt impressed one shared the Thanksgiving origin story from the Native American perspective, because of his ancestry. I wished more Americans could hear his story, yet here I heard it in Mongolia.

University’s Thanksgiving

My biggest Thanksgiving came Friday (Thanksgiving Day in the U.S.). My department celebrated our university's Thanksgiving with our students. My department values teaching not only language but also culture. So, since I’m here as the American here this year, we celebrated my holiday. I helped make the itinerary.

Students included our English education sophomores, Mongolian language and literature education seniors and foreign relations sophomores. Their wonderful dishes made me more forgiving of the students missing in class. While eating, I recalled Friendsgiving events from my university years.

For our activity, I joined suggestions from other Peace Corps Volunteers with an activity from summer training I recalled during my Thanksgiving novena. I had students draw hand-turkeys then tape these to their backs. Afterward, they went around to write on each other’s backs what they’re thankful for. I felt delighted teachers and students loved these.

My colleagues also had students write in advance English thank you cards to whomever. I received two! One student gave me the craftiest little paper book, with a Pikachu face. She thanked me for everything. Her piece reminded me of my own crafts I loved to make. Another student gifted a letter he typed and sealed in an envelope. He gleefully commemorated the (only) PUBG match I was credit to team. He, too, gave many thanks.

 Above the Snow

I traveled to a neighboring province that night and reunited with one of my Mongolian teachers from the summer. They next day at brunch, I celebrated Thanksgiving with fellow Peace Corps Volunteers and a community group. Whatever food I missed at my university’s Thanksgiving, I found here.

Then I enjoyed my weekend leave with a hike to the stone гэр \ger\ and a Buddhist monastery.

The winter’s snowdrift was so packed, I could wake on top of it without falling through. I walked out from the slippery city square, across a park and up a hill to the stone гэр, as we called it. I later read it serves as a mausoleum. I felt somewhat sad to see industry’s smoke billowing across the quaint town from where I came. I donned my face mask.

Continuing, I saw the monastery over the ridge, as the Volunteers said. Though rebuilt after Soviets destroyed it, it still looked as though centuries old.

I love history. It makes me smaller.

Afterward, resting a moment, I returned to cook with my fellow Volunteers. That evening, we celebrated our Thanksgiving for the province with local Mongolian counterparts and phone called Volunteers celebrating their Thanksgiving another province over.

While in the cab ride back to my city, I mused how people compare Northern Mongolia’s snowcapped hills and mountains here to Northern Nevada. And while I find the comparison a bit overstated, I do, too, get the feeling from days like these.

Their Brother

I find comfort in being someone's “агаа” \agaa\ (like 哥哥). Literally, “older brother,” the term extends to plenty males slightly older than us. You needn’t even be friends by Western standards to be one’s агаа. But the name feels so endearing to me.

All are brothers and sisters in the Catholic sense, too. But we don't usually call each other these in English. So I like this about Asia.

The first day I heard the word, “агаа,” I mused to the friend who said it how I’d never heard the word before. I thought it strange I’d been in Mongolia so long without hearing it. 

God must have noticed. That very night, in a video call with my language partner, over her shoulder suddenly popped her younger cousin, who beamed a huge toothy grin and just greeted me, “Aгаа!” giggling. I felt agape. Then the girl rushed away. 

I never quite know what about me excites small children and pets. It’s like… my presence is plenty. 

Maybe I stem the feelings from missing Mom. Or maybe the titles remind me of the bygone age when my own siblings were warmer toward me. That was the time we lived in Indiana, before moving to Vegas. Though I still call my siblings “sister” and “brother,” I feel more warmth from other languages’ terms. 

Have I mentioned, when Mongolians ask where I’m from, I consistently identify as an American Midwesterner more than as a Nevadan, despite living in Nevada just as long? Maybe childhood roots hold stronger.

 Fulfillment in My Service

During my first site placement interview this summer, the regional manager explained my backgrounds in helping students speak publicly, build confidence, and succeed in interviews and applications could help especially in a сум (soum), with high schoolers. Indeed, other managers also commented I did very well with our soum’s children. 

In August, I felt surprised then to five places especially where I fulfill what the need that manager described.

Weekly with working adults, I’ve helped the new Toastmasters public speaking club. And, with students and adults preparing for IELTS and TOEFL, I help them rehearse their interviews. On one occasion at a past Peace Corps Volunteer’s school, where my senior students did their practicums, I even gave a personal development workshop on goal-setting. At my own university, I’ve given resume workshops. But lately, this orphanage has felt most special. 

After co-teaching my very first English lesson for the orphanage teenagers, the 12th grader whose birthday was that day wanted to keep in touch. That night, we discussed her goals for life after high school. And I felt her eagerness, although she didn’t know how to get there. But I teach at a university, I explained. So I know a bit. Another time I visited the orphanage, she had me help with her homework. 

Unlike the younger orphans, who call me, “агаа,” she called me, “bro.” Being a supportive bro to her and the rest matters to me. 

Roots in My Community

The Saturday one week after Teachers’ Day was the first time I returned downtown, since recovering. That afternoon, one of my senior students doing his practicum invited me to help at his school’s speaking club. 

As I learned from the teachers there, this was a school where generations of Peace Corps Volunteers have served! I learned their previous Volunteer was Chinese, like me. And some of their staff even used to work where I teach now. 

That afternoon, I fielded a delightful QA about American teenagers. We also discussed social inequity and homeschooling. Cultural exchanges interest me plenty. 

Afterward, my senior student treated me to snacks, which was so kind. Then I returned to church, since it was en route to the birthday celebration of our teacher I wrote about some time ago. Church had rosary, since it was Saturday. Although I still struggle with the words, I felt peace. What a mystery! I actually prayed a rosary that morning, too. 

That night I even saw one of the students who visited me during my cold, during our teacher's birthday! Apparently he was her teacher, too. What a small community. 

Living Legacies

Before learning I would serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer in a city that’s known decades of them, I worried I would be boxed by those I worked with, being expected to look and act like whoever came before me. But instead, I’ve found excitedly the opposite.

I feel such joy when colleagues and community members compare me to the Volunteers they knew before, like the English Volunteers Rob, Sam and Adrienne and even the Health Volunteers Alice and Samantha. I feel comforted to enter into the legacies of those who served before me. I feel glad, in doing as I want and feel drawn to, I am for these communities like those they knew before. I think, no wonder we were placed in the same city and schools! There are things about us that just fit. 

While I was preparing to leave the office for home one day, a colleague mentioned how one of her evening course students asked her if she knew me and whether I could come help teach the course. My colleague said she felt surprised! Me too! I’d hardly been in this city three months, and people already knew of me and wanted my help. What a marvel. I love to help, of course. So, I shouldn’t even worry about the legacy I’ll have… I will have made differences. And those will be enough.

Onward!

Gratitude is a lovely topic. I’m closing the year with December’s first story detailing a typical week from this autumn life, followed by last stories before my return visit in America.

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me