#she would probably think taking care of a horse is too much of a hassle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alirhi · 3 years ago

Text

random story snippet

@goblin-tea this is part of that story I was talking about/sending you bits of. I'll get into the better stuff (imo) in a bit, but this is a much better example of what the main characters are like than what I sent earlier lol

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto,” she mumbled, still clinging to Audrey’s hand as she nervously followed Fiona’s example and took a moment to study the immediate area.

“No shit, Sherlock,” the blonde growled, yanking her hand away. Rebecca could stand there like an idiot if she chose, but damn it! She was going to explore and find a way home, right now. Clearly, her friend’s oh-so-brilliant spell had backfired quite horribly, and now they were lost, with no idea of where they were, when they were, or what was going…

Her thoughts were jarringly interrupted when Rebecca suddenly let out a short, high-pitched scream, causing both of her friends to jump.

“WHAT?!” Spinning to face the taller woman, she took a deep breath in preparation to chew her out, and then promptly hid behind her. “…Is that a dinosaur?”

“Deinonychus,” Rebecca confirmed in a reverent whisper. Her screech had been from excitement, rather than fear; the giant grin on her freckled face was evidence enough of that. Though she knew she was the only one who cared about the details, she still explained in a rush, “Fast, smart, and very deadly carnivore from the late Cretaceous period, probably the basis for the oversized velociraptors in Jurassic Park… A raptor’s colorful feathers make it look like a ridiculous, disproportionate toucan, which is probably why the producers chose to make it look more like our friend here. Fossils of the deinonychus have never been found with any indication of feathers.”

“It does have feathers, you walking Wiki!” Audrey hissed, stepping back. No way in hell was she going to stand there like an idiot and get eaten by some parrot on crack.

Fiona remained rooted in place beside the other redhead, though she did stoop to pick up Rebecca's forgotten staff, just in case the curious animal decided to attack. A tiny smile played at the edges of her lips at the toucan comparison. It did sort of look like one, in a weird way…

Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, their nerdy friend nodded. “Yeah… Most of this type of dinosaur did, so paleontologists kinda figured the deinonychus would, too.”

The prehistoric bird of prey studied them, almost seeming to ponder something. Just as Rebecca was about to make a Philosoraptor joke, the fascinating – if deadly – beast twitched, letting out a series of loud clicking noises.

“…Huh. Whaddaya know. That dude on youtube was right…” An answering call echoed from somewhere to the left of the three shivering girls, and startled the amateur paleontologist out of her daze. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Both of her friends shot her nervous glances, reluctant to take their eyes off of the giant predator. Why wasn’t it moving?

“Run.” When Fiona shot her an incredulous look, Rebecca shook her head. Normally, yes, she would caution against any sudden moves around a wild animal, but this was different. More clicks from their right, answered by the one animal they could see, illustrated why. “He’s calling in reinforcements – run!”

That was all the motivation the shivering blonde needed. With a terrified shriek, Audrey turned and bolted into the forest, Rebecca and Fiona hot on her heels.

“I think it’s safe to assume,” the oldest woman gasped out, jumping over a fallen tree limb, “that we’ve somehow been sent back too far.”

“Ya THINK?!”

"Now's not the time to get snippy!” Her lungs were burning, her legs cramping, and though she could hear the creature gaining on them, she had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t putting forth much effort. She and her surrogate sister were both overweight to the point of obesity, and as such, speed wasn’t exactly on their side. In fact, it had been one of the things they’d hoped to go back and change; if they never got fat, they wouldn’t have to deal with the health problems associated with it or the hassle of constantly trying and failing to lose it.

Risking a glance to the side, she noticed Fiona keeping pace with them, and winced. She was hanging back to help them, she knew. By far the skinniest and healthiest of the three of them, she was lightning fast compared to the other two. While both her companions were morbidly obese, Fiona was lithe and fit, with legs like a gazelle. She was going slowly so she could defend them with that big stick if she had to. That was the only logical explanation Rebecca could come up with. The fact that the 'big stick' was her own walking stick was momentarily lost on the eldest of the three.

Mother above, she prayed desperately, if there’s even a trace of magic left in my blood, please, please unleash it now to give us speed.

Too angry and frightened to bother with logic, Audrey just rolled her eyes, yelping when it caused her to trip over a rock and nearly sent her sprawling. Fiona caught her by the arm and helped her steady herself, and she managed a tiny grateful smile, even as she snapped at the redhead, “Shut up! It’s your fault that we’re in our own personal Jurassic Hell, being chased by a fucking raptor!”

“Cretaceous!” Rebecca snarled, dodging around a rather intimidating thorny bush. “And it’s not a raptor, it’s-”

“I DON’T CARE!”

“It’s actually quite fascinating,” Rebecca asserted through wheezing gasps for breath, “if you think about it. We finally… get to see… proof… that dino…saurs… were more like…flightless…birds…than…”

“I don’t give a shit if we’re being chased by an ostrich or a crocodile!” Audrey screeched before her friend could finish. “If I end up something’s lunch, it’s your fault! And you know what? Fuck you! Fuck your stupid spell. Fuck your obsessions. Fuck your fucking imaginary friend and the horse you both rode in on for good measure!” Even in a life-or-death situation, somehow an old inside joke popped into her head, and she managed to suck in a deep enough breath to scream, "AND YES, HE'S NAMED 'SIDEWAYS'!"

“Guys, this really isn’t the time to be arguing,” Fiona pointed out as calmly as she could, glancing over her shoulder to see how they were faring. It wasn't good. She could deal with Audrey and her rather offensive temper tantrum later, she decided; escaping the turkey-sized ball of feathers and teeth chasing them took precedence.

“Sorry…” Pouting a little, the blonde risked a glance back, and nearly wet herself when she saw that their prehistoric pursuer was getting closer and closer. “Oh, fuck me…” Something brushed the side of her head, and she jumped, but it was only a leaf hanging down from another large tree.

Wait. Leaf…tree… She glanced up, relieved to see that the branch was low enough for her to grab hold. Circling around so that she wouldn’t get caught by their feathered menace, she pushed herself just a little bit more and managed to haul herself up onto the branch. “Guys!”

“What are you doing?!” Rebecca cried, having been too focused on running to notice where Audrey had gone. Fiona had been taking up the rear, focus switching between the others and the predator, but had been looking primarily in the latter’s direction for a few minutes. When she turned and saw only Rebecca standing there, she froze and glanced around. As they spotted Audrey in the tree, they also became aware of the fact that their enemy seemed a lot closer than before.

“Can raptors climb?” Audrey called out, wincing as she watched the scene unfold. Though she had long legs and strong, muscular calves, Rebecca outweighed her by a good fifty pounds, and it was visibly taking its toll. She was tiring, and the blonde just prayed she could pull herself up to safety before that thing or its as-yet unseen companions ripped her apart. She had plenty of reasons not to worry too much about Fiona.

“Come on.” Urging her tiring friend on, the skinnier redhead decided to take at least this one cue from Audrey and circled around the trunk of a massive tree, making sure Rebecca followed. It confused their attacker, bought them a little time, and kept them from getting out of earshot of Audrey.

At her friend’s soft, gentle reminder of what she’d been asked, Rebecca frowned. She wanted to remind the treed woman that they weren’t being chased by a velociraptor, but dismissed it as a waste of time. Instead, she considered her question as she doubled back.

Could this breed of dinosaurs climb? “I…I’m not sure,” she panted, one hand coming up to press against her chest. “I don’t think so. Their arms are probably too small to pull them up.”

“Then get your ass up here!”

They reached the tree, and Fiona quickly jumped up like it was nothing, setting the staff aside and braced across two nearby branches to keep it from falling. She and Audrey then each stretched out an arm, hands extended to grab Rebecca’s and pull her up as the youngest of the three continued, “And pray Jurassic Park was wrong about more than just the raptor’s appearance, cuz here he comes, and if he brought friends, you’re toast!”

“It’s not a raptor!” Rebecca reached for their hands, though she harbored little hope that she could actually get her fat ass up there. With or without their help, in her mind, she was dead.

“Please note, you’re the only one who cares,” the other young woman grumbled, grasping her friend’s wrist and exerting every bit of strength she had left to pull her to safety. Rebecca had virtually no upper body strength, and without Audrey and Fiona, would never be able to make it up onto the branch, despite being taller than both of them.

She almost dropped the larger girl when she suddenly yelped. Fiona glared at her, trying to compensate by taking more of their friend’s weight until she got a better grip on her arm.

Still a bit startled, she searched Rebecca’s eyes for some sign of what the hell that had been about, and found only fear. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Pull me up! Pull me up!” Refusing to say anything else, she gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might, kicking all the while. What she knew the blonde couldn’t see from her perch was that the dinosaur had caught up to her while they both struggled, and had grabbed hold of her calf with its sharp claws. Suddenly, she was glad for the long leather boots that, only moments before, she’d been cursing.

As the creature went for Rebecca again, Fiona grabbed the staff and whacked it as hard as she could over the head. It turned on her for a moment, but before it could do anything, Rebecca kicked it in the face. Taking advantage of the opportunity she’d just created, she stood on the hungry animal’s head and pushed off. At last, she was seated on the rough limb, with the deinonychus just barely out of reach. Gasping desperately for air as she turned and clung to Audrey, she glanced down at the bewildered creature and managed a breathless “thanks!” The moment Rebecca was safely out of reach, Fiona crept along the branch and headed for a different one. The tree was old and strong, but the three of them in the same spot could easily snap the branch and send them right to the dinosaur’s clutches.

Once she settled on another perch, they sat there for a moment, contemplating their luck, both good and bad, and watching the hungry animal watch them. All three knew that with a little effort, the thing could probably reach the two on the lower branch with those lethal, powerful jaws. Since it had clearly not yet figured this out, none of them really cared. Audrey was exhausted and sore, the entirety of her plump body throbbing unbearably now that adrenaline had begun to flee her as she had fled the dinosaur. Fiona was desperately trying to get her breath back, and though she felt fine otherwise, she knew she’d feel like she’d been hit by a bus in the morning. Rebecca, too, was exhausted and sore, though the pain in her muscles and joints hadn’t yet registered. Her gaze shifted from the restless animal to the long jagged tears in the back of her skirt, which she studied with a sort of numb, detached fascination.

“Well,” she said finally, still scarcely able to breathe. “That was exhilarating.”

Fiona laughed.

“Exhilarating?” Audrey gaped at her. “Are you fucking kidding me? We just almost became something’s soon-to-be-fossilized lunch!”

Shrugging, Rebecca glanced down at the prehistoric lizard…bird…thing. And suddenly she felt pity for it, and all the living things around them. After a long silence, during which the deinonychus finally lost interest and stormed off in search of easier prey, she finally murmured, “We survived, didn’t we? That’s more than anything else in this time period can say.” Where were its companions? The question bubbled up out of nowhere, and once formed, refused to be dismissed. She'd heard it call to someone, and heard an answer... Or had she? Had she imagined it all?

“We don’t belong in this time period!” Audrey's reply startled her out of her confused reverie. Her voice was shrill, expression aghast as she stared at the other woman as if she’d lost her mind. Perhaps that was obvious. For a second, she considered that maybe shehad gone mad, and this whole nightmarish situation was just a scene playing out in her ever-overactive imagination.

Then she shifted, and the ankle she’d twisted when she tripped on a rock sent a twinge of pain up her leg. The idea of any of this being anything less than horribly, undeniably real was scrapped, and she glanced around. She would merely search for makeshift supplies, she decided. She would rewrite Rebecca’s stupid spell, and get them back to the present. If this experience was meant to teach them anything, she was sure it was that the past can’t be changed, which she was suddenly ready to accept as Gospel truth. Life sucked, but they could make it better if they just focused less on whining about it, and more on actually doing something about it.

A strange weight on her mind drew her from her thoughts and she turned to look. Rebecca was staring at her.

Huffing a bit, she gestured to her shredded clothing. “That’s going to get infected. You’ll probably die before the week is out.”

“Thanks, Captain Optimism,” the other woman growled, rolling her eyes.

“We don’t have anything to wrap it with!” she snapped, interrupting her friend’s attempt to assure her that she was fine.

“I can rip something if you want,” Fiona offered, gesturing to her clothes.

“We have no idea what’s poisonous and what’s not,” Audrey continued to rant as if the other young woman hadn’t spoken, “We’re about sixty-five million years away from peroxide, never mind penicillin. And all of this is assuming you just get some kind of nasty infection. Every carnivore with at least one nostril can probably smell all that blood for miles. If we don’t get the hell back to modern times, you are going to die!”

To shut her up, Rebecca sighed and reached down, shoving her torn skirt out of the way to show the long scratches across her boot. She could see them alright through the slashes in her skirt, but clearly Audrey was less observant. “I’m not bleeding, genius. He was aiming to grab, not gut; he didn’t get through the leather.” She gestured, but wasn’t the least bit surprised when Audrey only shook her head and looked away.

“I’m just worried about you,” she whispered, much more subdued as the fight slowly drained from her. “You got lucky this time, but as long as we stay here, we’re in danger every second, from everything.”

As if only just then remembering that Fiona was there, she whipped around and stared up over her shoulder at her. "And how the hell are you still corporeal? How were you ever in the first place? I mean, nice to meet you, I guess? But what the actual fuck is going on?!"

#claddagh #original writing #crossroads series

17 notes · View notes

apenapaperandadoofus · 4 years ago

Note

Can you make a list on who you think is the most to least reliable of the RFA (+ Minor Trio if you want!) when it comes to pets 👀

gasp you know what yes (I've been wanting to make some lists for a while -maybe least to most bottom of each of the RFA characters LMAO-)

MysMe characters least to most reliable with a pet and what pet would they have:

11. Rika

LMFAO bet ya didn't expect that did ya!? Nah you probably did, anyway the reason why she's the least reliable for a pet it's kinda obvious, first of all, she would refuse to get her pet treatment when it almost turns blind and ma'am? Please help your dog???

Also if at any time the pet dies she would start another cult so let's not risk it with her. Instead of an animal maybe give her a rock instead pfttt (actually wait-no she'd probably throw it at our poor mint coloured hair boy just give her a dog plushy it smth she can't be trusted with alive things)

10. Saeyoung

You may be asking me, Amanda, why, Saeyoung absolutely loves cats he'd be a cool cat dad, and yes, you're right. But you also don't understand that this man's love for cats goes SO far that he will actually cause chaos all around him. He'd give the cat SO many treats, not only that, but he'd also cuddle them, and that's nice tight? Wrong. This man will try to stretch the cat, grab it and twirl it around, reenact the lion king and do the 'Simba' bit and everything. Not only that he'd completely use it to prank Zen and everyone else, overall, he'd be a great pet owner but it'd be too much chaos so let's just stick with loving cats from afar.

Also I feel like he'd get a snake for some reason, and he'd dress them up in like a fancy bowtie a hat, or an iguana or chameleon y'know? He'd go for the amphibian type :o

9. Ray

I love our boy, I really do, but honestly how do you expect him to take care of a dog if he can't take care of himself. 😢

Actually scratch that, if he had a dog he would definitely love it and spoil it, and we live for that but also:

honey focus on yourself too we don't want you to D I E

Maybe give him a hamster or smth, while he's hacking away and watching MC in their room the hamster will be spinning on it's wheel super happy

Or he can have some cute fishes 🐟🐠

And like his brother, because great minds think alike, maybe a chameleon. He'd be pretty scared of them at first but he found one under some flowers and decided to rescue it, and now he sort of ended up adopting it :D

Although I find it pretty unlikely that he'll get a pet, he's more into flowers anyway

(OH WAIT WHAT ABOUT BEES? YA LIKE JAZZ -im sorry pft but now I need to see Ray in like those bee farmer dress things lmao)

8. Zen

I could see him as the pet owner that takes their dogs on walks and such, but honestly, if he's allergic to cats he's probably allergic to other animals too, at least some with a lot of hair! Although I feel like he'd get one of those big dogs and he'd go on runs with it all the time. The dog would be like the ones that are mostly thought of as super dangerous or aggressive but it turns out they're a sweetheart. Either that or a poodle 🐩💀 (but like I said, he's probably allergic to animals with lots of hair.)

HOW ABOUT A PARROT? ZEN COULD TOTALLY PRACTICE HIS LINES AND SONGS WITH THE PARROT AJDNFBFB

7. Jihyun

Jihyun would be pretty good as a pet owner but honestly he'd be super nervous at everything at first. Welcome to the Jihyun apologizing to his pet show akdjdn. But would we trust him with a pet? He wasn't really able to take care of two teenage boys -although it was mostly because he was in a toxic relationship 💀

When he has his sight problems he could totally get those helper dogs? (Forgot what they're called I'm sorry T_T)

He'd probably get a more chill pet tho, maybe a cat (he probably likes them a lot too! Also they're pretty calming.) So he could have like the guide dog and a small kitty too!

6. Jaehee

She'd be an awesome pet mom lol. I don't think she'd get a cat after being traumatized from pet-sitting Elizabeth. Maybe she could get like a turtle 🐢

Or maybe a rat to reenact Ratatouille lmaoo

She wouldn't get big pets unless the MC wanted to adopt something (and if they're a couple, we all know what people who want kids but can't or just aren't able to adopt at the moment, do, they get DOGS AND CATS!!!)

So honestly she'd start understanding why Jumin pampers Elly so much, since your dogs basically your child now PFTTT

Maybe a bunny too? I could see her working with the bunny on her head lmao and that's adorable

Omg imagine her with a SNAKE, HOW BADASS WOULD THAT BE???

5. Suit Saeran

You may be wondering once again, WHAT AND WHY

Let me explain.

Suit would dffinetly get those scary and big dogs that have spiky collars and everything, and he'd probably call him something like Killer or Skull Destroyer, or maybe Blade lmao

And we all know he'd die for his dog. It's the only one he can trust ajdhdbdbd

He'd be like the bad boys that walk around with their dog everywhere growling at people (not just the dog, the two of them)

And "Spike" would be so well taken care of. Believers have to start doing draws to see who feeds the monster dog that always bites them PFTTT

The dog would also dffinetly know how to fight. It'd be cute if the only person he likes appart from Saeran tho is MC hehe

AND you cannot change my mind in this, ever since Saeran got "Dark Knight" (I'm experimenting with the dog names pfft) he's shown him a picture of Saeyoung and taught him to absolutely hate his guts, so Seven, buddy, maybe don't get to close to them lol

AND the backstory for this dog is that Saeran found him under some bushes, hurt, and the dog reminded him of when he was younger, so he took him in and that's how the doggie came to be :3

3. GE Saeran

Idk, he'd also get the normal-ish animals, like a bunny or a cat (he'd like how calming they are.)

He'd be awesome with animals too!

Also uhm, someone please draw him as a farmer AJDHDHD lmaoo that's the first thing that came to mind 😂

He'd be the person that likes animals but like....other people's animals? He'd love to see Elizabeth and such, but he wouldn't really want to have one (unless MC wanted to of course.) It's not that he doesn't like them, it's mostly because he feels more comfortable with other people's pets ajdjdbd

Also he doesn't want them to ruin the garden oop

3. In a tie with Saeran, Yoosung

I forgot about him and didn't want to change the numbers lmao

Yoosung is a vet, c'mon he knows how to deal with animals!

At first he'd be so freaking nervous and would be just like a helicopter parent, making sure the doggie is alright and such, but then he gets the hang of it and he's perfect.

We all know we got a bunny with him too in his GE :D so maybe a dog and a bunny! He'd have more than one pet I'll tell ya that.

2. Jumin

Listen he's the king alright? He pampers his cat SO much, and you can just TELL how much he loves Elly. We all stan a man that loves animals.

He'd probably get some exotic pets too, maybe a few horses and birds that are really exotic or something

But can you imagine him with like....a tiger PFT

He'd be like: omg this is a cat but bigger let me have one

It'd be like Sebastian from Black Butler lol

He'd also be up to a dog, it'd take a bit of convincing but if MC wants one then he'd snap his fingers and get them one immediately (I love this man he's so ADORABLE) and then they'd have two children and Zen wouldn't have to worry about just Elizabeth

1. Vanderwood

Yes! The one! The only!

He's the only one appart from Jaehee that has more than one braincell PFTTTTT

He'd have a pretty big and scary dog that would've an absolute sweetheart when you get to know them. Everyone at first is scared but the dog just wants to sleep and eat, that's all.

Vanderwood is super responsible, I mean after Saeyoung I'm sure a dog would be nothing. He'd also compare Seven to his dog lol "Not even Capitan America is that dirty!"

"you named your dog Capitan America...?"

"shut the hell up or I'm tasing you."

His dog would spend all day sleeping. Sometimes Vanderwood will take him on walks, and they really enjoy that time together.

Vanderwood romance route? Uh, no he's far too in love with his dog to be doing anything else PFT

And you cannot once again change my mind on this:

He talks to his dog when he's alone.

He will tell him about his day as he cooks or does the laundry. He'd be in an apron making some dinner and be all like:

"Ugh, today I had to take care of that no-good for nothing guy again. It's incredible how messy his house can get in just a matter of hours! Not only that, he wasn't eating properly again, that idiot. I had to practically drag him out of his chair and make him eat some food. Not that I'm worried. It'd just be a hassle to have to find another hacker as good as him. Seriously that guy...."

And the dog would be like excuse me do I look like your therapist please just give me food lolol

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #saeran choi #jumin han #choi bois #jihyun mysme #mysme #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #mysme zen

43 notes · View notes

talesnbone · 3 years ago

Text

SHAN YU IS PROUD TO SEND THEIR CHILD, CHAO YU, TO THE LAND OF AURADON FOR THE UPCOMING SOCIAL SEASON. WE HEAR THEY’RE DISCIPLINED AND STOIC, BUT CAN ALSO BE SLY AND OBSESSIVE.

General

Full Name: Chao Yu Age & Date of birth: 22, 1803 Gender: transman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demisexual Relationship status: nope

Biography

the first full memory Chao has, is of the lack of sound. he couldn’t hear his mother’s voice. couldn’t hear the neighbor nor the bird on the wind. he took solace in the deeper sounds of the world. his father’s low roar of a laugh. or roar when enraged. the vibrations of the movements in the home. he could feel like it was on his own skin. it would take some years before his father brought him to one of the medics that visited the shadow realm. deaf they said. he would never hear the way the rest of the world did, but there were still ways to communicate. signs with his hands would do. he would never know if it was frustration or true acceptance that had his father learning it, but the great Shan Yu was willing, and Chao was not going to ask for more.

his mother died when he was young. in truth he didn’t think of it very often. she had always been such a soft presence. something small in the room compared to his father. her fingers running through his hair before everything changed. he would sometimes wonder if things would have gone differently with her around, but Chao wasn’t one to look to the past for guidance. the only thing that would do would be the present into the future. there were some things the past could not give you. solace was one of them, or so he had come to find.

by the time he could walk, a bow was in his hand. by the time he could run, he knew a way to get a falcon to come to him without making a raucous. the sound he made a little different than his father’s but still, good enough to get them to return home. Chao knew how to train a horse, how to hunt without the use of sound, the feel of a blade in his hands. his father left no stone unturned when it came to teaching his son. he could wrestle a man to the ground or break his neck if he didn’t feel up to the hassle.

Shan Yu would take his son into the woods of the shadow realm. creatures of nightmares roamed but it meant little to the older man. all it signified was a challenge. a Yu rose to a a dare. simply, having the woods exist was calling to their blood. there was no option but to conquer it. his lack of hearing meant little to his father. there were ways to read a situation without sound. he fully expected his son to master them. failure was not an option and never would be. Chao, every now and again, enjoys reminding his father that he did, indeed, fail. but the conversation usually spirals from there.

the idea of Auradon was a bit of a foreign concept. outside of the fact that it was on the other side of a mirror, he also paid little attention to it. Chao’s attention was always on the current things that went around him. rather than caring about the past. the medics from the other side of the mirror were why they knew he was deaf. good enough in his opinion. but that didn’t mean that since coming to the other side of the mirror, he did think it was all, a little, too much. too many people. too many rules. He would probably prefer fighting a dragon or chimera. at least he would know where the teeth were coming from.

Misc

Face Claim: Chella Man Height: 5’8 Pinterest: [x] Playlist: [x]

Notable Connections

Air - chao really loves to breathe it

#remember who the fuck you are || chao #intro || chao #intro || all

2 notes · View notes

snelbz · 4 years ago

Text

Reckoning and Retribution {3}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, House of Earth and Blood, & Throne of Glass Crossover, Western AU fanfiction.

Based on a prompt sent in for the 4k follower contest {winner}, from Anonymous: “Ok hear me out: WILD WEST AU CROSSOVER”

@snelbz / @tacmc

It was Saturday morning, which meant that the market was set up in town, every local farmer and gardener, and even some from other towns and territories, out to sell their goods. Elide loved Saturdays, loved deciding what she would be baking that week. She loved to bake, her mother used to bake, and she used to help in whatever way she could before her mother’s untimely death.

“You should bake banana bread,” Aelin crooned, looping her arm through Elide’s. “You make the most wonderful banana bread.”

“I do make wonderful banana bread,” Elide agreed, with a grin.

At the end of the market, up by Hunt’s saloon, Lorcan Salvaterre was leaning up against a post, the brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes, smoking a cigar.

Elide couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching her, that he had been since their abrupt meeting earlier in the week. His gaze didn’t unsettle her like it should have though. She often found herself meeting those dark eyes, and just when she thought he may approach her, something would steal one of their attention or he’d glance away.

“What a waste of a second chance.”

Elide glanced up at her oldest friend. She followed her line of sight and found that they were looking at the same man. “Why would you say that?”

“He’s awfully cocky,” Aelin said, with pure disdain. “And horribly rude.”

Elide had to admit that he wasn’t exactly welcoming during their encounter, but he didn’t seem that horrible.

Aelin lifted a brow. “Judging by your silence, I’m assuming you disapprove of my judgement.”

“It’s not that I disapprove,” she said, slowly. “I’m just...intrigued by him.”

“Intrigued…” Aelin mused, letting the word hang between them. “I wasn’t even aware you two had made an acquaintance.”

“I wouldn’t even say we’re acquaintances,” she muttered, stepping away from Aelin to inspect a stand full of exotic fruits. “We’ve only spoken once.”

“And when was that?”

The question wasn’t accusatory, but there was indeed an edge to Aelin’s voice that hadn’t been there before.

Elide sighed and turned around to look at her friend. She was off duty today, so she was dressed as Elide was used to seeing her: full, ruffled skirts, corset cinched tight at the waist and her hair was curled and pinned back off her face, which was elegantly accented by the cosmetics she used every day. She looked like a lady waiting for a ball, not the local deputy of a small town.

“A couple days after you started working with Sheriff Whitethorn,” Elide said, moving on to the next stall. Knives and blades and weapons and bullets and all manners of destruction and death were laid out before her. She made to move on, but they’d caught Aelin’s eye and she moved in.

“When you were dropping off my gift basket, I assume,” she asked, picking up a small, wicked looking dagger. Elide nodded, knowing Aelin had worked out the rest.

She’d ranted to her for an hour the other night after she’d come in and found his muddy boots propped up on her desk. Half the goodies in the basket were gone, too, though Rowan had admitted to eating quite a few of them.

“Mm.” Aelin said nothing else as she examined the dagger, it’s intricate filigree handle shining in the morning light, and found a suitable thigh holster for it. She paid the stall owner an egregious amount of money and turned to Elide. “I feel like you’re going to disregard everything I say and are going to attempt to befriend that surly brute of a man, so I would like you to be prepared, just in case.”

Elide blinked as Aelin pushed the small dagger and leather holster into her hand. “I can’t use this.”

“I’d prefer you not have to,” Aelin sighed, “but I’d rather you be safe than sorry.”

Elide hesitated, but Aelin was already walking away. After hurrying to catch up and match her pace, Elide was saying, “You know that I have never used a weapon, not once.”

“Perhaps I should give you a lesson?” Aelin asked, something new already catching her eye.

Elide sighed as she, once again, had to hurry after her oldest friend.

“I won’t even have to use it, Aelin,” Elide protested, looping her arm through Aelin’s to slow her down. “And I am not going to...befriend him.”

Aelin snorted. “You forget how well I know you, Miss Lochan.”

“Oh, trust me, Miss Galathynius, I am fully aware,” Elide said. “You know me as well as I know you, which is why I believe you’re being over dramatic about Mr. Salvaterre.”

A blonde eyebrow raised. “Mister, hmm?”

“Drop it, Aelin,” Elide said, picking up a new bundle of chalk sticks for her classroom. The pieces the children were having to use we’re becoming so short, their writing was becoming near illegible. Well, more illegible, in the case of her younger students. She snagged a bottle of ink as well and before she could reach for her money pouch, Aelin had paid the man. She didn’t bother thanking her friend, knowing she’d wave the praise off anyways. “There’s nothing going on between Lorcan Salvaterre and I.”

“Well that’s a damn shame.”

Aelin and elide turned, finding the man himself standing behind them.

“Miss Lochan,” he drawled, tipping his hat. “Deputy.”

“Mister Salvaterre, good morning,” Elide gave him a friendly curtsy and continued on her way, pausing at a stall that sold little trinkets and jewelry.

Once she was out of earshot, Aelin turned to Lorcan. “Don’t even think about touching her.”

His gaze was amused. “And what made you think I would, Deputy?”

The way he said Deputy made Aelin want to punch him in the throat.

“She’s a kind woman,” Aelin went on. “You will not do anything to cause her harm or ruin.”

Lorcan grinned, wild and vicious. “You make it sound like she fancies me. Has she taken a liking to me, Deputy Galathynius?”

The fact that he used her title as a form of mockery had her hands curling into fists at her sides.

“Aelin, are you coming?”

The pair turned to where Elide waited a few stalls ahead. She called, “Give me just a moment.”

Elide nodded and continued sorting through the fabrics the seller offered.

Turning back to glare at Lorcan, Aelin breathed. “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. If it weren’t for my promise to protect this town and all who live in it — including you, apparently — I’d put a bullet between your eyes and wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it. Rowan tearing up the warrant for your arrest was the most reckless thing he’s ever done. Now, don’t make me repeat this, ” She was a solid foot shorter than him, but as she said the words, Lorcan felt as if he was being talked down to. Like a child. “Leave. Her. Alone.”

His eyes turned dark, hard, as his jaw locked. “Fine, if it means that much to you.”

“It does,” Aelin snapped, picking up her skirts as she stormed to Elide’s side, leaving Lorcan behind.

Elide blinked as Aelin approached, frowning. “Is everything alright? What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Aelin said, forcing a bright smile. “Let us continue on with our morning.”

Sighing and linking her arm with Aelin’s once more, Elide did just that. After they’d shopped for a few more minutes and Elide had decided she had enough supplies for the week, they were making for her cabin at the far end of town. It was a bit of a walk, but the ladies didn’t care, not wanting to saddle horses. It was such a hassle, and now that she was used to trousers, Aelin just didn’t want to mess with it.

“So,” Aelin began as they walked up the steps of Elide’s little house. “Aside from the fabulous banana bread you’ll be making me, what other goodies will you be baking this week?”

Elide listed off a menagerie of delicious desserts and baked goods. “A peach cobbler, oatmeal and cranberry cookies, blueberry crumble, a couple pies, and a chocolate and stone ground oat cake.”

Aelin’s eyes were wide. “Such a wide variety. What for?”

The tips of Elide’s ears turned red and Aelin certainly noticed as she began to blush. “Mister Salvaterre’s welcome basket.”

Aelin froze as she followed her friend into her house.

Oh, this was not good.

* * * * * * * * *

Bryce loved the silence.

Lying on her bed, she opened the new novel Hunt had given her the day before.

A gift, he had said, and wouldn’t take no for an answer when she had told him that she couldn’t accept.

She was grateful for it.

It had been so long since she had been given a gift, had owned something new. She couldn’t wait to lose herself in the story, if even for a few moments, to get out of the living hell she was in.

A quiet knock sounded on her door. She tightened the sash of the dressing gown she wore around her waist. “Just a minute,” she called.

She made herself appropriate before opening the door, finding Hunt on the other side.

“Hunt-.”

Her quiet words were cut off as he crashed his lips against hers and softly shut the door behind him. When he finally pulled back, Bryce was breathless.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“Come on, grab your things,” he said, looking around the room for a bag. The room was lavish and luxurious and the furnishings probably cost more than Hunt’s entire saloon, deed, ale, whiskey and all. “Maeve just left. Feyre is watching the bar. Let’s go.”

Bryce hesitated. “Go? Go where?”

Hunt took her face into his large, calloused hands. The look in his eyes was wild, determined. “It’s our chance. Now is our chance.”

Bryce closed her eyes. “Hunt-.”

“Please,” he breathed, his breath hot against her mouth. “Please, Bryce-.”

“I can’t go anywhere,” she whispered, forcing her eyes not to well up with tears. “You know I can’t go anywhere.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she pressed on. “Cairn will find us, you know that. What happened to Clare, to Isaac… I won’t let that happen to you.”

Hung closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall against hers. He knew she was right, knew if they had any hope of getting out of this town alive, it would cost them an egregious amount of money.

Otherwise, they’d be paying with their lives.

Clare Beddor and Isaac Hale were proof of that. After they ran away in the dead of night, Clare’s debt unpaid, it only took two weeks for Cairn to bring back her lifeless body and his decapitated head. His mouth hung open in a wide, never ending scream. It was tossed into an unmarked grave somewhere on the property, but Clare…

Maeve had made a few extra bucks off of her, thanks to the few sick fucks who lived in this town.

This was her life, and there was no getting out of it, no matter how many sleepless nights she spent wondering how she could get out of her debt.

But there was no way.

It was hopeless to dream.

“Bryce,” Hunt whispered, bringing her back to reality.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it, even though it meant nothing. “You need to let this go, Hunt. I’m a lost cause.”

“Don’t say that,” he begged, just as he always did.

Every time he did it broke her heart.

“I’m making an offer to Maeve on Monday.”

Her head snapped up and her eyes met his. “What?”

He wrapped her up in his arms. She rested her head against his chest, listened to the heart beating inside. The heart that belonged to her, in every way. “I’ve saved up enough for your freedom, with some extra. With what you’ve…earned… We have to be close, Bryce.”

She heard the words he specified. Your freedom. But not Danika’s.

“It’ll be a few more years, Hunt-.”

“No, damn it, I refuse to believe that.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. He whispered, “I wish you never would have made that bargain.”

She shook her head. There was no dwelling on it now. What’s done is done, and besides… “I don’t. Not if it kept her safe.”

Copying her motion, Hunt shook his head, his loose hair shaking with the motion. “For two weeks, Bryce?”

The sob that tore from Bryce was heartbreaking.

When she was eight years old, her father had ripped she and Ruhn from their beds, with no explanation, and they’d left the small town they called home. Years later, they’d realize it was because he’d killed Bryce’s mother in a fit of rage. If only that was the worst thing their piece of shit father had done.

Just a few years later, the family, with their young ward, Danika Fendyr, visited Rose Creek on their way west, as far west as they could go. Their father had gotten drunk beyond measure, the former owner of the saloon supplying as much whiskey as any one man could consume. He’d run out of money during his poker game, and needed a few new bargaining chips. He had three.

Bryce and Danika were sold to Maeve, while Ruhn was shipped off to the mines.

The girls were only sixteen when they were to begin selling their bodies, their souls, on behalf of Bryce’s father’s debt. Bryce’s birthday came first, Danika’s just a month later. A week before Danika’s unveiling, Bryce made Maeve a deal.

Her life for Danika’s. Double the price, double the debt, Bryce promised Maeve double everything, if only she said yes.

Maeve agreed.

Danika went free.

She protested, told Bryce she was an idiot as she wept and wrapped her arms around Bryce. Bryce told her best friend, her sister, to go free, to make something of herself.

She deserved as much.

Less than two weeks later, just days after Danika turned sixteen, she was killed by a bandit, a robbery gone bad, making the sacrifice Bryce made worthless.

She had doubled her debt for two weeks of Danika’s freedom, and she had been paying off that debt ever since.

“I don’t care the price, I don’t care how long it takes,” he promised. “One day, you and I are going to leave this town, and we’re never going to look back.”

“Hunt!”

The cry from downstairs was a warning, their time was short.

“Go,” Bryce breathed, her tears at last running down her face. “You can’t be up here when she gets back.”

He knew that, knew that he wouldn’t be the one to bear the punishment if they were to get caught. He nodded, pressing another kiss to her forehead, then her lips, letting it say all the words he couldn’t out loud.

I’m sorry.

I’ll get you out.

I love you.

* * * * * * * *

Exhaustion dwelled in every inch of Ruhn’s body as he followed Aedion, Declan, and Flynn into the saloon. That exhaustion did not stop him, though, he had things to do, those to protect, even if he could only do it from afar.

Anything else would get him shot.

Or hanged.

All they had to do was raise their hands in greeting to Hunt before plopping down around a table. A minute later, Feyre came carrying a jug of ale and four mugs.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Feyre crooned, setting it all in the middle of the table.

“I don’t see any gentlemen here,” Flynn muttered with a smirk.

“True,” Feyre agreed, “but any other sort of greeting just seemed rude.”

Aedion’s attention was immediately on the striking brunette across the room. She was primped and preened and the smile on her face showed everyone how much fun she was having at the saloon, being passed from lap to lap.

That smile was the biggest crock of shit Ruhn had ever seen. It was the same smile he saw on Bryce’s face and Nesta’s and all the other girls who had to lay on their backs just to keep their families fed or protected.

Promising to come back if they needed anything, Feyre flitted off, refilling the glasses of whiskey the sheriff and his newest deputy had sitting on their table. The man in black intrigued Ruhn, but he wasn’t one to start a conversation and make new friends. Especially with a man he was sure had killed people.

It was slow, for a Saturday night, if Lysandra was down on the floor of the saloon. Either that or she was a walking billboard for the services Maeve offered. Since he didn’t see his sister, Ruhn was inclined to believe the latter.

So instead he kept an eye on Feyre, tracking her as she moved from table to table, carefully watching every hand that came close to her.

It seemed that Feyre was fairly good at taking care of herself, and Hunt watched her like a hawk, but still, as he watched Feyre flutter around the floor, watching every man she passed watch after her with a hungry gaze, Ruhn felt the need to look after her, too.

It was difficult enough having to watch the women passed around who weren’t allowed to say no, but he couldn’t bear to watch those who were allowed to say no be taken advantage of simply because they were a woman in a saloon full of drunk bastards.

Flynn and Declan had ended up at the bar and Aedion had snuck into the dry storage room, leaving Ruhn to mull over his day, life and purpose with nothing but a mug of ale to keep him company. When he realized he’d been tracing the same knot in the wood for an entire song in the old, barely-in-tune piano, he looked up, his eyes darting around the room.

No sign of Bryce, but he’d learned to not to hold out hope for easy nights for her long ago.

But when his eyes made another pass, searching for not for wine-red hair, but golden-brown… He came up short.

For a moment, he debated on joining his friends at the bar, if for no other reason than a new vantage point to watch the room. That thought drifted away as he heard a voice, full of sass, from behind him.

“Are you watching me, Mister Danaan?”

He spun around in his chair to find Feyre, one hand on her hip, the other holding up a tin pitcher.

“I was just...scanning the room, Miss Archeron,” he said, simply.

She narrowed her eyes and suppressed her grin. “I believe you’re telling a lie.”

Ruhn huffed a laugh, unable to help himself as Feyre sat down across from him at the empty table. “I was just ensuring your safety after what had happened the other night.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Feyre said, eyes bright. “You are appreciated, you must know.”

He tipped his head in thanks. “How has your day been?”

“Long,” she admitted. “I suppose I cannot complain, though. And yours, Mister Danaan?”

He thought of the hacking he’d done with his pickaxe, hour after hour after hour all day, before he said, “Mine was long, as well.”

Unlike his sister, Ruhn wasn’t forced into the servitude he was sold into. Gavriel, the man who owned and operated out of the mines, was a fair and just man. He saw the situation the children were in, saw that he had the opportunity to help at least one of them. So when Ruhn’s life was offered to him, as payment for a life debt, he said yes, took the young man in.

And then told him he was free to do as he wished. Free to go, to stay, to work, to run.

But with Bryce in proverbial shackles, that wasn’t an option. So he took a job in the mines, made a modest living and did what he could for his sister.

The sadness in Feyre’s eyes told him she understood well.

“Miss Archeron, may-.”

“Feyre, please,” she interrupted. “Call me Feyre.”

He smiled. “Miss Feyre, with your permission, I’d like to walk you home tonight.”

Her eyebrows rose, her blue-grey eyes bright in the candles hanging from the chandelier. “I don’t get off work until late, well past midnight.”

Shaking his head, Ruhn said, “I don’t mind.”

Feyre nodded, slowly, perfectly amused. “Very well, Mister Danaan, you may walk me home.”

She pushed herself up from the table and was beginning to walk away when Ruhn called, “Miss Feyre?”

She turned to face him, yet again, a small smile on her lips. “Yes?”

“If I can call you by your first name, then you may call me by mine,” he said, then added, “Please.”

“Very well,” she said, softly, and then she was off to make her rounds, yet again.

* * * * * * * *

Saturdays were Nesta’s least favorite day.

The crowds were bigger. The room was louder. The men were worse.

As Nesta hurried toward the saloon, she couldn’t help but wonder what sort of torture Maeve would have planned for her to punish her for being late the night before. Again.

She hurried into the saloon, squeezing Feyre’s hand as she passed, her sister giving her what little strength she could, and started up the stairs.

“Nesta Archeron.”

She paused, and turned, finding Maeve standing at the bottom of the staircase. “I’m not late tonight, ma’am.”

A wicked smirk. “No, you’re not.”

Nesta swallowed hard and made her way back down the stairs.

“Get ready and be back down here within twenty minutes. You have a special request tonight.”

A special request. It sent chills up Nesta’s spine.

And not in a good way.

Nonetheless, she did what she was told. After hurrying up to her room, she took her place in front of the vanity and took down her hair, the curls long and loose as they hung around her shoulders. She lined her eyes with kohl, painted her lips to a ruby red, and pinched her cheeks until they were nice and red. She looked at herself, admired herself in the mirror as she did every night before she changed.

Her reflection haunted her.

She was staring at the ghost of the girl she once was, the girl she once knew, before.

After pinning her hair back so that it was out of her eyes, she shrugged off her robe and dressed. Corset, skirts, stockings beneath that reached her mid-thighs.

Lacing her boots up, she steeled herself, praying it wouldn’t be one of the sick men who enjoyed pain. Nesta hated the pain.

She walked down the stairs, Maeve still waiting in the same spot as before. Eyes turned to look at her as she descended into the saloon, as they always did. People always stared when the whores entered the room.

She glanced around, trying not to make it obvious, as she caught the eyes of those in the bar. The usuals were there, of course, Hunt and Feyre and Luca, picking up dirty dishes. But Azriel Draeven was there, too, along with the mayor. And at their table, eyes trained on her, a glass of whiskey in his hand, was Cassian. Their eyes locked and her feet almost froze on the stairs, but she forced them to keep moving.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Maeve inspected her with an experienced eye. Without a word, she nodded, clearly pleased with Nesta’s appearance. She held out an envelope. “Do not open this envelope until you’ve reached the general store. You’ll find further instructions inside. You’ve been booked until sunrise. Go get your coat.”

Nesta didn’t say a word as she took the envelope and went back up to grab her coat. It was all she grabbed, her coat, not wanting to bring the rest of her belongings in case things turned ugly. She would have Feyre to grab them before she left. She wouldn’t mind.

She never did.

With her coat over her shoulders, she descended the stairs, once more, not bothering to look at anyone else except for her sister behind the bar.

Feyre could see the question in her eyes. She nodded, once, and Nesta ignored the sorrow in her youngest sister’s eyes as she exited the saloon, envelope in hand, and went down to the general store.

It wasn’t late by any means, but the dusty main road in and out of town was deserted. Those with families were home, having dinner, spending time with their loved ones. Those that didn’t… well, the saloon would be open for quite a while yet. The envelope in her hand felt heavy, though she knew that was just in her mind. It held nothing but a note, written in Maeve’s formal penmanship, like it always did. This wasn’t the first special request she’d fulfilled and she knew it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

With a sigh, she opened the envelope and a letter in an unfamiliar hand fell onto her lap. She read through it once, blinking, and paused. She was misunderstanding. She had to be. Nesta quietly read the letter allowed, making sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

“Return to your home, lock your doors, and go to bed,” she murmured. “Tell no one, keep this a secret from all but your sisters. Get some rest, beautiful.”

The letter still clutched in her hand, Nesta looked around the deserted street. There was no one around, no one secretly watching her, waiting to catch her making a mistake.

Nesta had never run home so fast in her life.

* * * * * * * *

Lysandra had slipped into the dry storage of the saloon while Cairn wasn’t looking. She just needed a second to breathe, to sit without being hounded.

The door cracked open a minute later and Aedion appeared. “Are you okay?”

She breathed a relieved sigh as she nodded her head. She wasn’t sure if she could speak. If she spoke, she may start crying. Maeve would get far too much enjoyment from her tears.

He understood though, he understood how it took a toll on her. Wordlessly, she stood, making her way over to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Aedion didn’t hesitate to wrap his own around her and kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he breathed.

She shook her head and Aedion knew it’s because there was nothing either of them could do.

For a moment, that’s all there was in the world, just the two of them and the silence. She loved that silence, loved when he held her and she could take a few minutes to breathe.

Even if it was never long enough.

Which it never was.

“You should go back out there,” she whispered.

“Or I can give you some coin,” he replied, quietly.

Not for sex, she knew, but so she could have ten extra minutes of breathing time.

Lysandra shook her head. “It would be a waste of coin, and you know it.”

Neither of them made to move though. Aedion’s hand wove into her hair, holding her head to his chest as she breathed him in, as she rooted herself in this moment, to use it as her anchor for the rest of the night.

Stolen kisses and secret meetings are all they had. Aedion would gladly pay for a night with her, for every night with her if he could. He loved Lysandra more than a man had ever loved a woman, or so he firmly believed. And she had given him her whole heart, since they could never have anything more.

She was Maeve’s favorite whore. There were no prices for a night with Lysandra, not unless someone was willing to shell out a wagon full of coins. No, she was Maeve’s personal gift to give out.

To the most worthy of companions.

Maeve’s most worthy clients.

“I have to go,” she whispered.

Aedion nodded, knowing the time was coming. The time always came, no matter how many nights Aedion spent praying it wouldn’t.

He wanted so desperately to tell her that he loved her, but he wouldn’t. No matter how much he felt it, he’d keep it to himself, because to say it would be too hard.

He would say it and nothing would change.

“I’ll be there,” he decided on, after a few seconds passed. He would be there, in the saloon, in case she needed him to look at, to make eye contact with, when she was feeling completely and utterly alone.

She nodded, before taking one last deep breath, breathing him in. And then she was out of his arms, out the door and back into the front room, into her own personal hell.

Because when she saw who was sitting in Maeve’s booth, she thought she was going to be sick. It had been years since she’d seen him. When Maeve crooked a finger over and called for her, those silver eyes met hers and Arrobyn Hammel smiled.

#snelbz rar #reckoning and retribution #sjm crossover #snacmc #snelbz tacmc collab #snelbz x tacmc #acotar #tog #hoeab

156 notes · View notes

internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Fabulous Friday Evenings

Summary: You were having a really bad day. Conner decides to help cheer you up and make sure your drunk ass doesn’t face plant on the side walk.

masterlist

word count: 2,652

a/n: Special thanks to @anothertimdrakestan for helping with the ending and helping with editing! Love you, Elle!

warnings: alcohol and swearing and author does not know how alcohol works. No one is under the drinking age. This may benefit from more editing.

"Mosht people are jusht the careful scaffolding of complexshesh," you slurred, your face red, head half buried in your arms, and golden ear cuffs winking under the dim bar lights.

"You somehow still sound like a fucking nerd even you're when drunk," Conner laughed throwing his head back, handsome face stretched with a cheeky smile. "You look like a mess," he said softly, reaching out for your cheek.

"Fuhk you! Not eberyone can be born too pretty for their own guhd- how did yah evehn know I was here? It was Tim wasn't it! "

"Good guess buuuut it was actually Bart" Conner explained casually taking a seat next to you as you lifted your head momentarily before plopping it back down to stare at the amber gloss of the drink. The light from the ceiling seemed to dance so elegantly in your eyes even as you wrinkled your brows. "That rat," you cursed miserably into your arm.

Across from you, a pretty brunette shot you two a wink and without looking you could tell Conner flirted in kind. Normally, you'd have the audacity to steal the girl's attention away before Conner could even make a proper move but tonight you were in absolutely no mood to be charming. In fact, you were sloshed. You didn't know whether it was the fourth or fifth drink that did it but there you were sitting next to one of the most attractive people he knew with your makeup smeared and eyes still swollen and puffy. You kind of just want a portal to open up and swallow you.

The brunette made a motion to her friends which indicated that she was gonna try her luck and you wished her the best of luck. You bit your soft lips before pressing them into a pout. It took everything in Conner not to kiss you on the spot. Be the responsible one they said. It would be fun, they said.

"We should go. You're-"

"Have fun," you said, patting him on the shoulder, cutting him off curtly; placing some cash on the bar before leaving. The buxom brunette approached Conner placing a hand on the shoulder you’d just touched moments before. He didn’t seem to notice her, his mind still lingering on the warmth of your hand. Before she can say anything, he pivots and runs towards you .

The casual slump in your shoulders in place of your usual elegance was a pretty good indication that you would probably fall in a gutter before you got home. Conner highly doubted you could see straight.

"I can’t believe Roz let you get this sloshed without checking on you," He joked bringing one of your arms over his shoulder and slinging his own arm around you for balance. You walked like a newborn horse. It was incredibly embarrassing and you wanted to die. Conner, on the other hand, just found it incredibly hilarious.

"She's out getting into her own brand of sloshed at a bachelorette party,"

"Huh. Didn't know she was the wedding type. Thought she hated going to those,"

"She's the stripper," You deadpanned, sounding abnormally sober. With that Conner let out a genuinely hearty laugh. You would trade all the martinis, dackories, and margaritas in the world just to get drunk on that laugh.

"That reminds me," Conner drawled, adjusting his hold feeling just how shaky you were from the late October Metropolis weather pressing you closer to his warm body. You kind of wanted to melt into his side but you had too much pride. "Bart never said why you were out here getting shit faced," You frowned at him but couldn't really muster any sharpness into your expression.

There were lots of reasons to get 'shit faced' even in shiny Metropolis. You twitched your nose and mouth side to side gathering the makings of a sentence. Where do you even start? Your little sister got suspended, your mother (who somehow found out you were in Metropolis) is either demanding money or for you to drop everything to go back home to help around the house (translation: help out with the bills while babysitting your siblings), Bats and some other league members were on your ass for the last mission (probably the only thing on this list you found reasonable), this morning, you got fired from your library job so they could hire Marco's girlfriend (who is in fact a perfectly nice person which means you can't really hate her), or the dozens of little annoyances such as Bart not being able to keep his trap shut.

"This week was just a little much,"

A long moment of silence passes between you. Uncharacteristic for Conner but it was cute that he thought silence would make you fess up.

"You know I could have gone home on my own. That brunette looked like she was up for a good time,"

"Yeah right. Also you're welcome."

"You're right. Thank you for getting blue balled this fine evening to escort me" you didn't want to be prickly but Conner was being too nice and that made your skin crawl. Why couldn’t he be mean to you right now like a normal person?

"First off, she wasn't even my type-" You raised a brow.

"Kon, her tits were the size of Jupiter-"

"Did you really just say 'tits'?"

You threw him a scowl clearly sobering up from irritation.

"Shut up. Point iiiis, you didn't have to-"

"You just said-"

"Oh for the love of- yes, I said tits. Speaking of which you should be staring at some instead of having to lug my sorry ass around on this fabulous Friday evening." Your hand fluttering, gesturing vaguely in the air.

"Eh. There'll be other Fridays" Kon shrugged. Pulling you closer and some selfish part of you felt relieved.

----------

Much to your surprise (you really ought not to be), Roz wasn't home yet which meant you had to dig out the keys from the secret hiding spot- another hassle. You reached out peeling a hilariously well concealed hole in the wall and fished out the set of jingling keys. Conner looked like he was between amusement and bewilderment. Good enough. At least, this stopped Conner's 30 minute TED Talk about the new 70s sitcom he'd found.

You two entered the shoe box apartment clumsily thanks to your disastrous limbs.

You blew out a breath and muttered a thanks as Conner helped you plop onto the couch. Though, it was more like gravity decided to magnetize your body to the couch and Conner just let it happen.

You shut his eyes for a moment wrapping a ragged blanket around you. You made a mental note to raid the thrift store for a new one. Preferably one void of holes.

"So what's up and don't you dare say it was nothing. I've never seen you this hammered before," He said handing you a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

"Does it occur to you that I might get hammered like this often and you might just not see it? Who knows maybe I'm actually a functional alcoholic?"

"Ok, first off, you are barely functional. Second, that might be your weakest deflection yet. Try again,"

"Ok... did it occur-"

"I didn't mean it lite- just tell me what happened. Everyone's worried,"

You stared at the steam rising from the fresh cup of cocoa. It was none of Conner's business. It was no one’s business. Your friends were too goddamn nice. Blowing out another breath, you said "You might wanna sit down too,"

Conner takes his own mug of hot cocoa and sits next to you because for some reason eye contact made you a better liar and Conner for all his dumb decisions wasn't gonna let you off the hook that easily. You shifted uncomfortably and muttered about either Cassie or Roz ratting you out. He assumed it was the eye contact thing. Conner felt a little offended. He might not be Tim but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Despite his hurt feelings and bruised ego, he decided to table that and focus on the current issue or, likely, issues.

"Do you want it in alphabetical order?"

"Please tell me you can actually do that," Conner teased with a wide grin. You couldn’t fight off a smile forming on your face. "Sadly, I am not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. My brain cells work like a normal person's,"

"Didn't you die?"

"Death only fixes stupid when you stay dead. You've seen Red Hood and whichever other Ex-Robin has been to the pearly gates,"

"You say that as if Jason wouldn't tell the big man to fuck off,"

You blinked and turned your head up to the ceiling. "Ok that's true," You conceded, your mouth twitching rapidly from side to side making you look like an exasperated rabbit. Cute.

"So what's up?"

All the good mood from the past few minutes dissipated in an instant. You looked down solemnly at the still steaming mug. You were silent for what felt like an eternity.

"It's family- Immediate. And the source of all evil-"

"Lex Corp?"

You snorted a shy tired smile cracked across your face. You shook your head. Those little gestures just make Conner feel a little warmer. You, on the other hand, cursed at how easily Conner could make you laugh. You were supposed to be sad damn it.

"Money," Conner knew immediate family was always a sore spot for you. No one knew the specifics except Roz but that was inevitable when you're cousins. Money was also a sore spot and based on your near dead tone. You’ve either lost a lot of it or you’re in a tight spot but not ready to elaborate.

"Wanna try buying a lottery ticket?"

"What?"

"Who knows you might get lucky?"

"You could have gotten lucky you if you-"

"Are you seriously gonna keep bringing that up?"

"Yes, most likely. Depends,"

"On what?!"

"On whether I can think of something funnier to give you shit about or if you can convince me-whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing stop!"Conner's cheeky grin did not disappear nor did the faint flush on your cheeks.

"I wasn't thinking of anything, you sick pervert" he laughed. You really should have been exasperated with Conner. You tried damn it. You looked at him skeptically before violently letting his head rest on Conner’s shoulder causing the other boy to fall over.

"Aaaaaaawwwww babe , if you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so,"

You wanted to. In fact, both of you wanted to. But unfortunately neither of you were martian and neither of you was willing to say jack. You closed your eyes trying to pretend Conner wasn't a little shit. Conner radiated too much smug for that though.

"Shut up," You mumbled into Conner's shoulder already feeling sleep pull him under. You clung to him. Maybe just for tonight you can indulge in this. Just for a little while you can cling to Conner's warmth. Maybe in the morning your head will ache too much to remember this. Waking up alone wouldn't be too painful then. Hopefully.

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

You woke up feeling like a troop of Can Caning hippos decided to host a live performance all over your head. You sighed remembering that you had in fact run out of Aspirin just days before so you decided on just lying there and praying that Roz also needed Aspirin and had more energy to run to the store.

You settled in nuzzling in to the warm-

Wait. It was October.

Nothing in the apartment should be warm.

NOTHING.

Then, you heard it. A LOUD snore. It honestly sounded more like the roar of an engine than anything. Everything else followed. The slow rising and falling of the chest beneath you, the press of stubble against your forehead, and the strong arms loosely wrapped around you.

Yeah. You died again. Yeah. You finally went to heaven. Yup. You were ok with that. You were definitely 100% A Ok with this if this was heaven. Being held tenderly by the guy you liked while you got a good night’s sleep was definitely heaven. God, you were such a sap.

How the hell you missed all of that baffled you.

Oh wait. Dancing hippos. Fuck.

Your head felt like it was threatening to crack open but somehow you honestly could not mind even if you tried. You were laying on top of a hot (literally and metaphorically) guy mutually cuddling. You nuzzled into the junction between Conner’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to steal more warmth. Sure, you were probably gonna go deaf from the snoring. Sure, you were definitely irritated by the stubble pressed against your face. And sure, you would probably die of embarrassment once Conner woke up. You could worry about all that later. All you could think about was how nicely your arms fit around Conner’s neck and how Conner’s arms wrap around you a little tighter in return.

Click.

You could hear the distinct sound of your own camera shutter. Each sound chipped away at your peace of mind. You lifted your head only to see Roz holding your camera.

TAKING PICTURES.

Your cousin was nothing if not a petty opportunist.

“I would tell you to get a room buuuut the only bedroom iiiiis preeeeeeetty occupied,” Roz drawled smugly way too pleased with herself. You opened his mouth to ask but you’d already made the mistake of walking in on Roz and a guest once and you were pretty sure you needed more therapy for that than you did for your murder. You just sighed as Roz took another picture.

“Come on, (y/n), smile a little,”

“I’m not smiling for your blackmail material,”

Roz gasped trying to sound scandalized. She failed, only sounding amused beyond belief. “It’s only blackmail if you’re ashamed of it. Personally, I think you’re scoring big time,”

“Roz please just fuck off before you wake him up,”

“Too fuckin’ late for that. He’s been awake for awhile,”

You could feel Conner smiling into your hair and his arms wrap around you a little tighter. You tried to straighten up. To tower over him. To look intimidating.

But…. you couldn’t. You were kind of trapped because, yanno, super strength.

You were seething and threw a scowl at Conner who only chuckled at you in response.

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” You snarled, clearly exasperated and feeling the hippos start their encore performance.

“ Mmmmmm, it depends,” Nope. The hippos did not only come back for an encore. They brought friends. Based on the absolutely smug look on Conner’s face, you were in for an entire parade.

You let out a breath not sure if you wanted to play this game but not really seeing any other options. “On what?“

Conner paused and hummed and hummed and hummed some more as if he was actually thinking but you knew from the crook of his lips that he had this planned out. Maybe not this exact scenario but something close“Go out on a date with me,”

You blinked then rolled your eyes theatrically enough that your head rolled along with it. “And be seen with you in public?” You teased, an almost sheepish smile tugging at your features.

Yeah, Conner wasn’t exactly expecting you to say yes.

“Yeah. Sure. Why not?” You said playing it off as casually as possible but you couldn’t help but mirror the absolutely goofy grin plastered on Conner’s face. His happiness was infectious. You felt weightless. It was probably the fact that you were floating with him but you were pretty sure you were just on cloud nine. You were doomed. Definitely, inevitable, indubitably doomed. Even though everything has been shit up to now. The happiness radiating off of Conner was enough to make everything feel a little better.

Thank you so much for reading!

tag list:

@idkmanicantenglish

@batarella (I thought you might like it?)

#conner kent x reader #conner kent #conner kent imagine #My writing #dc fanfiction #DC comics #kon el x reader #kon el imagine

176 notes · View notes

madtype · 3 years ago

Text

Cabaret Club Czar Training - YUKI (Part 2)

continuing her training, yuki and majima talk about dating, dreams, and princes!

highlights: - yuki being concerned that majima’s unwell because he was nice to her - majima’s accidental double entendres featuring chafing and crotches - yuki, on the potential of feeling some attraction to majima: “oh... i don’t know how i could ever forgive myself...”

full transcript under the cut!

---

MAJIMA: Alright, let's do some more training.

YUKI: Y-Yes, thank you for taking the time!

M: What's up, Yuki-chan? You nervous again?

Y: N-Not at all! It's battle butterflies again!

Y: Okay! Let's get started! I want to get better at talking to my customers!

M: That's the spirit, Yuki-chan! Alright, I'm gonna be your customer, and we're just gonna talk. Are ya ready?

Y: Y-Yes!

Y: Hello! I-I'm Yuki! Thank you please for coming in toda-- tonight, um, have a good...

M: ......

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

M: Alright, let's get to know each other a little better, Yuki. Not that I care, but why don't ya tell me about what kinda guy you like?

Y: Wh-Why do you have to put it like that!? When you say it that way, it really doesn't inspire the most creative of answers, Majima-san...

M: Yeah, yeah, my bad. So tell me about your type already.

Y: Let me think... I... I like a guy who can be my prince!

M: Uh. A prince?

Y: He should be kind, tall and handsome, with flowing hair! He'd really respect me, and he would look good riding a white horse, y'know!?

> Sounds just like me.

M: You talkin' about me, Yuki-chan?

Y: Huh? What do you mean? Majima-san, are you saying you're a prince!?

M: Sorry, Yuki-chan. I may be your ideal man, but I can't be your prince.

Y: Ahaha! Majima-san, you say the funniest things!

Y: Majima-san, you're not exactly a prince... Oh, I know, you'd be the evil chancellor who betrays the kingdom!

M: An evil chancellor!? It's the eyepatch, isn't it!?

> I think I get you.

M: I can see that. If I were lookin' for a lady, I'd want a princess, too.

Y: Huh? Wow Majima-san, you actually see eye to eye with me on something? No way!

M: Hey, if you're gonna hold onto dreams or ideals, ya better swing for the fences.

Y: Exactly. I'd prefer to chase the ideal of my perfect man. But, he might not actually exist... Maybe my standards are too high.

M: Lemme ask you, Yuki. How old are you anyway?

Y: I'm 23.

M: Hmmm... I see, I see...

Y: Uhhh, what's with the sudden pause?

> That doesn't exist!

M: A guy like that doesn't exist! That's on the same crypto level as a tsuchinoko, a unicorn, and a yeti!

Y: H-How do you know that for sure? The tsuchinoko could be out there...

M: Look, there ain't no such thing as a tsuchinoko. Someone probably just looked at a fat snake the wrong way.

Y: Awww, Majima-san, you're just a sad man who's lost all his imagination and dreams!

M: Yeah, and you're an adult now yourself, so maybe it's time you grew up a little... What were we talking about again?

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

M: ...Anyway, I'm surprised you're such a dreamer, Yuki-chan.

Y: I'm allowed to dream, aren't I? I went to an all-girls middle school, high school, and university, so I've been dreaming about my prince charming for a long time now.

M: Ah, so you grew up surrounded by girls at your schools. I'm startin' to see why it's tough bein' around men.

Y: Oh, I... I'm sorry.

Y: So, I guess what you're saying is... my customer service skills are lacking because of that... right?

M: What's all this then?

Y: Well, since it came up, I've been wondering if my issues talking to customers might be holding everyone else back, and I wouldn't want that...

> A club needs variety.

M: A good club needs a wide variety of girls, actually.

Y: Huh?

M: I mean, sure, it'd be nice to have someone who could actually talk to the customers...

M: But some guys prefer girls who come off like they don't buy into the whole “nightlife” business.

Y: Hm, I wonder...

M: See, a girl like you adds appeal to the club as a whole, Yuki-chan. We can cater to all walks of life that way.

Y: Wh-Why are you so nice all of a sudden? Majima-san, do you have a fever or something?

M: What? What're you talking about?

Y: No, I just thought you were going to give me a hard time like you always do... I was just a little shocked, is all. So thank you.

M: Hmmmm, what kinda guy do you take me for?

> Don't worry about it.

M: Don't even sweat it. With me at the helm, a problem here and there ain't nothin' I can't deal with.

Y: I knew it. I am causing problems. I'm really sorry...

M: Ah, no, no. That's not what I meant. I was only tryin' to cheer you up, Yuki-chan.

Y: *sigh*

M: (Wow, she's really down in the dumps, now.)

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

M: Hey, I know it's probably a ways off, but I wonder what you'll be like when ya do get yourself a boyfriend, Yuki-chan.

Y: Y-You never know! My prince might ride in on his white horse and sweep me off my feet tomorrow!

M: Riiiiight. Cape, sword, and the whole nine yards.

Y: That didn't sound sincere at all!

Y: But, a boyfriend... When I think about dating, all I can think about is how much of a hassle it is.

M: A hassle? Even if it was your equestrian princeling?

Y: If my boyfriend really were a prince on a white horse, it'd probably be even more of a hassle than dating a normal guy!

Y: Every date would be a struggle for the right clothes and make-up, and even then, I can't begin to imagine what I'd be able to talk about with him.

> You'd figure it out.

M: If you liked him, you'd make the effort, though.

Y: Really? Majima-san, you're the last person I expected to hear that from.

M: Really? What's up with that?

Y: Oh, it's just that you suddenly sounded so encouraging and supportive, and it took me by surprise. Are you sure you're feeling okay?

M: Of course I'm okay! I do say positive things every now and then, y'know.

Y: My heart skipped a beat there... Oh, I don't know how I could ever forgive myself...

M: Say what?

> That's this job though...

M: You donkey! You gotta do all that at work here every day. Gettin' dolled up and talkin' to guys is your job, remember?

Y: Ohhh. That's true... If I have trouble with that on the job, I'd probably be bad at it in my private time too...

M: Hey, none of that, now. If ya got time to feel sorry for yourself, you should channel that into uppin' your game.

Y: Upping my game... Yes, you're right. I can't always be a burden to this club. I'm... I feel more motivated now!

Y: Majima-san, can you tell me the number one thing that I've been missing? I really want to know!

M: Uh, lemme think about that one. Hmmm.

M: Thinking big picture... I'd say you're missing everything.

Y: *sigh*

M: Oh! No no, I take it back! Nevermind, Yuki-chan!

> Do a horseback date.

M: Well if he picks you up on a horse, I say ride with it.

Y: Ah, that would be great. So romantic!

Y: We'd ride together on his white horse, into the wind... I would grasp him tightly behind his back, our thoughts as one without exchanging words...

M: Don't get too ahead of yourself, Yuki-chan. Remember, riding a horse'll chafe your thighs.

Y: Ch-Chafed thighs? What!?

M: Yeah, ridin' a horse is a real pain in the crotch till ya get used to it. Ya don't wanna be a whimperin' mess in front of your prince, eh?

Y: Hey, Majima-san! Can you please not bring up crotches and chafing when I'm trying to talk about romantic things? Try to be delicate for once!

Y: But... Now that I think about it, I should learn to ride a horse. Wonder where I could practice...

M: Hmmm. Beats me.

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

M: You know, you're an odd girl, Yuki-chan.

Y: Odd? What's weird about me?

M: Well, in one breath you're sayin' you'd wanna date a prince, and in the next, you're sayin' it'd be a hassle.

M: You're like a grumpy old man in the body of a romantic young lady.

Y: What do you mean!? A grumpy old man? At least make it a grumpy, middle-aged woman!

M: So grumpy and middle-aged is fine, long as you're a woman?

Y: I'm just not starved for love. There are more important things in life than romance!

M: Well, maybe this is a bad time to bring it up, but have you ever actually gone out with someone, Yuki-chan? I get the feeling you've never dated...

Y: I-I-I've gone out with plenty of guys! Of course! Th-There's Sato-kun, Suzuki-kun, and... Tanaka-kun!

> Those are last names...

M: Ya know, if you're gonna lie about ex-boyfriends, you should probably use their first names, Yuki-chan.

Y: Oh!

Y: That's true! If you're dating someone, you'd call them by their first name, wouldn't you? I've learned something today. Majima-san, you're great!

M: That's all it takes to impress ya? Whatever. Anywho, lots of club-goers like an inexperienced girl like that, so it ain't exactly a bad thing.

Y: Uhh... You're right, I guess. I'll keep doing my best.

> I yield!

M: Ah, well you sure proved me wrong. You've got quite a bit of dating experience, Yuki-chan.

Y: Y-Yes, that's right. Haha... Ha... Oh...

M: What's the matter?

Y: I got so tangled up in my own lie, it made me kinda sad.

M: I kinda figured. But y'know, it ain't all bad. Some of our guests actually like inexperienced girls better. Cheer up.

Y: Right... I'll keep it positive and do my best.

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

M: Okay, I think that'll do it.

Y: Th-Thank you for the lesson.

M: Sure thing. Good job.

#cabaret club czar #yakuza 0 #goro majima #yuki #club sunshine

11 notes · View notes

clarkesrifle · 4 years ago

Text

Title: The Forgotten Day Pairing: Levi Ackerman x nb!reader Warnings: None, no spoilers Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2.2k Summary: The Survey Corps had no time to remember birthdays -- it was a miracle that anyone knew each other’s name, really. Imagine your surprise when you found a crudely-wrapped item with your name on it on your forgotten day. Ko-Fi | Requests! Notes: Unedited, written when I was lonely.

The Survey Corps had a high turnover rate, as was natural with the profession. How many had died since its establishment? Were any of them remembered, or was all that was left of them was a tiny inscription within the seemingly endless book of those that died in the service to humanity?

Birthdays were unimportant. For some, remembering that comrades were human beings with families, lives, and histories made their duty too difficult. It was decidedly easier to ignore those things. Comrades, at the end of the day, were a means to an end. A partnership doomed to fail. It was easier to forget about them when you didn’t know their important days.

It was hard for you to grasp at the beginning of your tenure. Despite your family’s economic status within the walls and regardless of your experiences with your birthdays, you found it difficult to trust the people around you when you knew so little about them.

Where are you from? Have you seen a titan before? Why did you enlist? Have you killed one before?

Sometimes, it was difficult to discern whether your friendships were born out of genuine care for each other or rather the respect that was necessary to function together as a unit.

Captain Levi had intrigued you from the start -- so many rumors about him lingered throughout the walls. He was a bonafide celebrity and a mysterious one at that. How many families told stories of him? How many children’s nightmares were soothed by the mere mention of his name?

You remembered the first time that you had ever seen him -- the Scouts marched through the quad on horseback, passing through Shiganshina’s marketplace. You crawled on top of the fruit stand’s fabric canopy, feeling it dip underneath your weight. You were so small then, it feels like.

Levi walked his horse into the quad, directly behind Commander Erwin. How could so much strength and resolve lie within such a small body? He didn’t strike you as overtly handsome at first glance. No, your appreciation for his appearance grew slowly over your years wearing your wings.

Admittedly, the years that you did remember your birthday were lamentable. Days off within the corps were few and far between, and when your birthday didn't matter, you couldn’t exactly do anything for it.

Your body felt as though it was about to explode; training only grew more intense the longer that you were enlisted. You supposed this burning pain was worth it -- the Scouts couldn’t risk any more people than necessary, and the best way to prevent deaths was extreme preparedness.

Your squad leader, the infamous Levi, pushed you harder each day. Keeping your cool, both physically and mentally, was difficult whenever he was around. Impressive was the least you could say about your captain.

He seemed peaceful whenever he trained, as though he were relaxing lakeside -- you allowed yourself a quick moment to picture Levi lakeside -- without a care in the world or a titan to slay. It was mesmerizing to watch him use the ODM gear; it was as though he were performing a beautiful and intricate dance.

Much to your chagrin, he ordered you to clean the muck from the stables and care for the hooves of the horses following training, a task that would surely take you hours. Levi, in all of his mysteriousness, was particularly anal about cleanliness.

Being alone with your thoughts was particularly distressing on your birthday. You couldn’t help but wonder about the people you’ve lost -- how many birthdays had they lived? How many more would there have been? Why were you given the privilege to live when they were gone?

For some faces that lived behind your eyes, you regretted not knowing them more. You noticed with anguish that many of those faces lost their sharpness in your memory, the years replacing their features with blurs and blobs.

The moon was rising by the time that you finished your appointed task. Your lower back throbbed, your calves screamed as you climbed the stairs towards your lodging.

Your room was perfectly modest -- only a bed, a dresser, and a desk were provided to you. The pillow was flat; you were not the first nor the last to use it. The blankets were made of a course and itchy material but did its job well enough.

Blinking, you noticed a horribly wrapped item sitting upon your bed. It seemed to be covered with the same paper the captains write correspondence with, tied with twine. Written on it was your name in nearly illegible chicken-scratch, but still, it was your name.

“Um,” you mumbled under your breath. Sitting before the present, you undid the complicated knot with your calloused fingers. Inside lay a book; it was leather-bound, old, possibly expensive. The inside of the wrapping paper had a small note written on it, which read: It's your birthday. Congrats on not getting munched on for another year.

You gasped quietly. It was your first birthday present in years, possibly ever. After the initial shock had worn off, you hungrily opened the book, skimming through pages after pages of incredible drawings, information about a world you'd probably never see.

You flipped back to the beginning, noticing that whoever gave you this gift had left a small note just under the first chapter heading: I keep hearing about the world outside of the walls. Thought you might be interested.

Closing the cover, you held the book tightly to your chest. Thank you, you thought to yourself.

Hearing Armin speak of the sea intrigued Levi. Throughout his life, he had never allowed himself to think of the world beyond the walls. By the time he went on his first expedition outside of them, he could only think about titans.

He had first noticed you upon your entrance to the corps. Erwin had given a rousing yet truthful speech, as he did at every graduation. Levi stood offside the stage, taking in the group of cadets that had stayed.

The Captain had long become used to seeing the fearful faces, the determined faces, the strong, the angry ones. Yours, however, intrigued him.

You looked resigned.

You looked incredibly aware of the sacrifices you would have to make, the people that you would lose. You looked so painfully aware of the trials and tribulations to come. It seemed as though you were the only cadet that understood the reality of being a Scout.

So he pushed you. He knew deep down that he pushed you harder than the others. Levi had even requested you to be apart of his squad. Erwin had looked at him with curiosity at that, only Levi, who could read the man better than anyone else, could see it.

It had been Erwin who had first noticed your feelings for your squad leader. You had been subtle, truthfully, and only a man as detail-oriented as the Commander could see.

He had noticed it after you delivered tea to his chambers, where he, Levi, and Hange were having a meeting to discuss the budget for the next quarter. You had lingered a mere millisecond when you handed Levi his cup, skin grazing against each other so gently. Levi had been surprised at just how much he felt at that slight touch, how much heat erupted on his hands.

You did not stay long after that, wishing Hange a goodnight with a gentle squeeze to her elbow -- Levi was unaware of the friendship that you two had.

Levi glanced at his Commander, who smiled over his teacup, looking pointedly at him. "What?" Levi asked. Erwin shook his head, a low chuckle coming from him. "What?" Levi asked again, impatiently.

"Nothing," Erwin replied, a soft smile gracing his features. "Just don't let yourself get too distracted, Captain."

He refused to elaborate.

Hange was the next to notice. You volunteered your extra time, particularly on your loneliest days, to help her with various experiments. Most of the time, you were on standby, looking out for Erwin. It was very clear to you that these experiments were largely unapproved.

Levi visited Hange's laboratory one day, a ration bar in his pocket. You may not have noticed him slip the bar into your bag's pocket, but Hange surely did.

It had taken plenty of prodding on the scientist's part to get Levi to admit a certain level of care and affection for you. You had been hurt slightly during an expedition. It was nothing serious, and yet the Captain insisted that you stay behind on the following day's adventure. You had fought tooth and nail to convince him otherwise, which landed you a day's worth of paperwork for insubordination. He strategically picked the following day, forcing you to miss the mission to finish the massive pile of work that was needed in a short amount of time.

"Y/N'd just be dead weight," Levi grumbled to Hange after she had cornered him. "I'm not going to babysit someone just because they got hurt and were too stubborn to heal."

Hange scoffed at her shorter friend. "It was only a twisted ankle, y/n was cleared for the mission immediately."

"I'm not going to risk another brat being killed because of a stupid, unhealed injury. That's final." Levi looked below them, taking in the four-meter titan underneath them. Easy.

He triggered his ODM gear, rearing his arms backward and slicing forward at the beast's neck, grinning as the nape fell off of it towards the ground. The titan fell, mouth agape, onto its side. Landing onto a tree limb, he scoured the forest floor for more.

Hange was not far behind. She landed beside him, intent on harassing him until she was satisfied with his answer. He rolled his eyes. Maybe it would have been less of a hassle to keep Y/N in the game. Babysitting didn't seem as awful as being stalked.

He hadn't meant to overhear Armin one night, but the conversation intrigued him. The sea. A forest that not even with fifty gas reserves could he traverse. Small pieces of white, cold fluff falling from the sky like a gentle rain.

A strange warmth built in his chest -- he could picture it all easily, but he couldn't picture any piece of the world without you being there with him. Levi wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He had crashed into an abandoned home after slaying a titan. He needed a moment to refill his gas tanks, and he needed a place under cover to do so.

Levi had landed in a library. Books covered most of the floor, the walls, the tables throughout the room. Besides the dust, the new debris, and the vines growing into the building, it seemed as though life had been suddenly paused and could start again at any moment. Strangely, he felt like he was intruding on something.

He found himself drawn to a book, hidden at the back of a shelf. The books that had once been in front of it had been thrown to the ground in the mad dash to escape the titan-infested city.

The spine of the leather-bound book had a portrait of a snow-capped mountain imprinted into the material. A mountain. He hadn't heard of one before he had overheard Armin that one night.

It had been covered, hidden.

Illegal, he realized. Interest built in his chest, he grabbed the book and flipped through it quickly, looking at the intricate drawings. He thought of you.

Slipping it into his waistband, Levi left the library through the way that he came.

Shamelessly, Levi dug into the records in Erwin's office long after the Commander had retired to bed. Y/N L/N, he read, yanking the file out of the cabinet and searching.

Six months away.

He made a note of it before slipping the file back into the cabinet and pretended he never did anything at all.

In the days leading up to your birthday, he found himself busier than he had expected. He had hoped to wrap the book days in advance, but life never turned out how he wanted or expected. He waited until after training and bought himself time by asking you to clean the stables and care for the horses.

You were just as fastidious as he was when it came to keeping things clean, something he was impressed by and thankful for at this moment.

He hadn't the time to go into town to buy proper wrapping, so he improvised.

Being a soldier was about improvising a bad situation into something better.

Something better was wrapping the book in stationary. "It looks like shit," he mumbled to himself. He attempted to save it by tying it with twine, but he looked out of his bedroom window and saw that you were already heading back towards the barracks.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought to himself. Undignified, he ran up the stairs towards your bedroom -- which he knew was yours based on how pristine it was -- and dropped the book onto your bed without much thought.

The next day, he watched with a rare smile as you read in the mess hall. Happy birthday, brat, he thought to himself. He took a sip of his tea, savoring it.

He wasn't sure if the warmth in his chest was from your appreciation of the gift or the heat of his drink.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #fanfiction #aot #attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #fanfic #drabble #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #singeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #snk #snk fic #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic

73 notes · View notes

parkers-gal · 4 years ago

Text

foxgloves

boomerang pt. ii

wc: 2.5k

warnings: violence & car incidents (brief)/ hospital trips

The foxglove of the plantains, or the digitalis, blew in the wind like a beaut on a horse. Its colors, encapsulating, vivid, vibrant, radiant, rich. Sweet smells from the pollen and nectar wafting through the air, luring in those who dared to have such a sacred piece of life. Petals as delicate and fragile and intricate as stemware, filled with crimson winery, sweet and bitter like the flower's nectar. The middle, the center, the inside. Intimate and exclusive, blossoming only to those willing to experience the pain that came with such a devilish plant, full to the brim with nightmares disguised as daydreams. But even with all the beauty; colors and petals and scents and tastes as wonderful as they were, it was still deadly. Intoxicating, fatal, poisonous. And the disease spread faster than Nutella on toast.

How poisonous she was, Tom did not discover until her pollen was left behind, leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth as pressure from the heat settled and sizzled to nothing, realization kicking in that she was gone and her absence did nothing but destroy. And destruction was merciless, especially for the person that had prompted it all. Tom built a machine he didn’t know how to stop; it's self destruction in the worst way.

Four weeks had passed since she had walked out. Four weeks since Tom had fallen asleep in the doorway in the middle of the hallway, hoping to wake up from the nightmare disguised as a daydream. But it wasn't a daydream, and it wasn't a nightmare. Because this is real life, and he supposed losing her was worse than pining after her. At least then, he had her in his life. And now.. he isn't even sure on where he stands. He's stopped standing actually. Instead, he'd been pushed off the edge, the cliff with a drop so deep only Earth knew the end's location. He supposed again, that he's still falling. Because after the drop, there's a whole layer of rock bottom, and directly under that, is a new layer of crap and waste and vile memories, building and forming and making the Tom today. Angry, melancholic, heartbroken, remorseful and regretful. His happiness is just about as bright as the broken nightlight in the corner of the bedroom.

The echo of knuckles against wood rings through the house, alerting Tom that somebody is at the door. And though he knows it's unrealistic, he wishes and prays and hopes to god that it's her, coming back like the boomerang she is. It isn't.

"Tom? Mate? It's me and Harry," Harrison calls out, cautiously stepping through the doorway and shutting the door quietly behind Harry, the lock clicking as they placed the drinks down. They stopped at Nando's on the way to Tom's, knowing he probably resorted to coffee and mashed potatoes as his main filler.

"Bro, where are you?" Harry sounded, placing his cap on the table by the couch, the two of them venturing further into the house until reaching the slump body on the ground in the den. Tom's hair is disheveled, his eyelids drooping, accompanied with dark, heavy bags.

"Get up," Harrison nudges Tom with his foot, and Tom groans in annoyance before picking himself up and standing in front of the two boys.

"The fuck do you two want?" he rubs at his eyes, dragging his feet to the kitchen for a glass of coffee – it's a lot easier to whip up than tea. At least, in his opinion it is, because if his tea isn't perfect then he doesn't want to go through the hassle of preparing it just to be disappointed and let down at the first sip.

"We're checking in on you," Harrison states it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He's leaning against the counter, elbow deep on it, Harry beside him.

"Yeah."

Tom hums at the two of them before spinning around and swiping through the swing door and into the living room.

"Have you.. talked to-"

"Don't fucking say it," Tom's voice is sharp as he turns around abruptly, cutting his brother off. "Don't you dare fuckin' say it."

Harry puts his hands up in defense, in innocence, eyes darting to the floor as Tom turns around again.

"We're worried about you, man," Harrison speaks after a few moments.

"Yeah? Well don't be," Tom spits out sarcastically, his voice disgusted and laced with bitterness. An ugly flavor.

"You haven't picked up mum's calls in weeks," Harry makes a point of mentioning. "I get it... if you don't want to talk to us. But at least talk to mum – she's worried sick. Dad's a bit pissed too."

"I don't owe them anything," Tom grumbles, plopping into the center of an armchair, sipping the drink from the table. Harry and Harrison exchange knowing glances before hesitantly stepping forward.

"Tom," Harrison places a hand on his knee as he sits across from him. "Will you listen to us?"

Harry takes a seat next to Harrison, joining in. "Don't be such a twat about this, Tom. We only care about you. Everyone here knows this is entirely your fault- you dug yourself into this ditch. The least you could do is be grateful we're trying."

"The fuck did you say?" Tom's voice raises, eyebrows changing position as he stops sipping the cool beverage.

Harrison removes his hand from Tom's knee and turns to look at the younger Holland, concern flooding his irises, taking over the blue orbs.

"I'm your brother, Tom," Harry goes on, voice unchanged. "I love you. And I'm worried about you. We all are. And we love you enough to be brutally fuckin' honest. You let her walk out. Ya' acting like you had to fight to keep in her in your life – but that's a fuckin' lie. You didn't do a damn thing but sit and watch," he points a finger, irritation from his voice setting tension between the brothers.

Tom's pupils dilate, his veins flooding with vengeance and vexation. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Tom," Harrison cuts in, voice calm and soft and soothing. "Calm down, let's talk about this-"

"No!" Tom swipes his hand off of his shoulder. "Get the fuck out of my house!" Tom stands up, finger pointed in Harry's face as he takes a few steps back.

Harry merely shakes his head, curls jostling. "No."

"No?" Tom repeats.

"No."

Harrison's so caught up in his worries that he doesn't catch Tom before he lunges at his brother, fists swinging and knuckles cracking against Harry's cheekbone, sending the boy flying to the ground, blood and all. All the while, Tom is yelling and screaming, fighting against Harrison's restraints.

"Get the fuck out!" He yells, trying to get rid of Harrison's arms on his torso. "Let me fucking go!"

"No!" Harrison yells, glancing at Harry with wide eyes. "Go. Get up, get out!" he manages, and Harry looks up in shock before scrambling to his feet and slamming the door on his way out.

Tom huffs before his body relaxes, and Harrison feels comfortable enough to release him from his grip. Tom runs his fingers through his locks, the strands soft but greasy on his fingertips, and he exhales like a bull. Harrison envisions smoke coming out from his nose, and he thinks Tom almost looks like an underground boxer, but he doesn't mention anything.

"What the fuck was that, Tom?" Harrison asks after a few moments.

Tom glances to him, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. "What was what?" he spits out.

"That!" Harrison gestures to the ground and then to the door. "You just punched your fucking brother!" he exclaims. "Now no discredit to him, but you've been training with professionals, T. You could have fucking killed him!"

"Yeah well I didn't!" Tom matches his voice level to Harrison's, standing up, chest out almost like a challenge.

"Don't you dare try anything on me," Harrison points. "I trained too. I can fucking take you if I really tried."

"Seems like you don't want to try."

"That's not what I'm here to do; I'm not here to fucking fight you, T," Harrison sighs, hands finding his hair too. Tom scoffs before relaxing his posture a little. "I saw her a few days ago," Harrison speaks quietly.

At this, Tom's head is shooting up in Harrison's direction, eyes wide and curious as he aches to pry into Harrison's brain at all the knowledge he has on her. Tom looks to Harrison expectantly, and he sighs again before going on.

"I was in the supermarket, but we still talked a little. She seems... fine. Great, even. I think she's really," Harrison holds his breath, "happy. Really happy."

Tom sits on the arm chair again, glancing to his fingers, head down. "I could never make her that happy," he whispers, tears falling.

"You did," Harrison spoke. "You just... I don't know, Tom. I really don't know what to tell you. I don't know everything that happened between the two of you, but when I talked to her she seemed to believe you had just completely given up on her."

"But I didn't," Tom pleaded, eyes glossy as he looked up to Harrison. "I swear, I never would. I loved- I love her so much, I could never just- just give up like that."

"Then why did you?" Harrison whispers back.

Tom looks to his lap again, silent. Harrison plays with the arm of the couch before patting it.

"Tom I'm not saying things could ever happen again between you two, and I'm not saying that it isn't a possibility," he was at the door, hand on the knob as he turned around to look Tom in the eyes. "But you gave up on her and now you're giving up on us." His voice dropped to another whisper, voice cracking as he opened the wooden door and closed it shut, the lock clicking.

"God," Tom whispers to himself, wiping his face with both palms as fresh tears emerge to the surface and break through the barriers, falling down his cheeks and all the way to his knees again. He looks to a picture frame, one of the only ones she'd left behind, and for a moment, he was back in the past, reliving the joy that came with being a boyfriend and a best friend and a big brother. He closed his eyes, imagining the life that was so distant and obviously changed, and new tears awoke.

***

The next morning, Tom showered and put on a fresh pair of sweats, a black tee too. Harry and Harrison had taken Tessa away a few weeks back, deciding Tom couldn't take care of her with the state he is in, and the house felt all the lonelier. Now, he had just left the house, feet tapping on the concrete pavement, to the direction of the park.

Greens and trees and playgrounds in sight, Tom breathed in the fresh air, eyes closing as he relished in the feeling of his lungs finally getting new oxygen.

"Tommy?" he'd heard, and his eyes shot open. Spinning in the direction of the voice, he couldn't find the source. He glanced again, spinning in circles before crossing the street. Then, he'd heard it again, and he froze in place. He spun around, looking in all directions; to the trees, the houses, the plants, the futbol field, and the flower garden. He was rotating in circles now, slow but rapid movements. Inconsistent as he ran his fingers through his hair pulling at the strands, and then the voice called for him again. Her voice.

Spinning one last time, he'd spotted her, and relief flooded through him as he breathed out her name. But too soon, because the cold metal of a bonnet was lodging into his legs and his side, and the world went dark as he hit the ground with a thud, car doors closing as he laid in the middle of the street.

Hours later, he'd awoken in a hospital room, Harrison and his mother in the chairs beside the bed, Harry standing in the doorway with an ice-pack on his left cheek.

His chest burned, legs ached, and his head pounded. A man in a white coat had just entered the room, and Tom sat up, his mind foggy as he was drifting in and out of the conversation.

"Tom, is it?" the doctor said, a clipboard in his head. Tom nodded. "The driver that hit you said you were standing in the middle of the road, looking out to... something?"

Tom nodded, clutching the right side of his head, jaw sore too. "I saw a girl."

Harry and Harrison seemed to have stopped breathing.

"We talked to the driver, there was no one there. We checked you out."

"And?" Nikki breathed out, clutching a handkerchief to her chest.

"He's been hallucinating," the doctor informed them.

"Hal- hal- halluc-?"

"What's causing it?" Harry cut her off, avoiding Tom's gaze.

"Could be a number of things," The doctor glanced at his clipboard. "Sleep deprivation, depression, drugs. The good news is that he's going to be alright."

"Thank you," Nikki replied, and the doctor nodded.

"I'll be back in later to discuss further details. I'll just give you four some time," he smiled a tight-lipped one before leaving the room.

Tom's head hit the pillow as he groaned, irritation at the situation setting in.

"Tom what the fuck happened?" Harrison exclaimed, hands going up, and Nikki gave him a look. "You're lucky to be alive, Tom. What the fuck were you thinking?" Harrison went on

"I don't know- I wasn't," Tom breathed out, eyes rolling.

"Damn right you weren't."

Tom sat up. "I don't need you mothering me like a brother you aren't!" he yelled, and Harrison went quiet as Nikki gasped. "If you're going to lecture me than you can just fuckin' leave."

Harrison looked around the room in spite, jaw clenched. After a few seconds, he made for the door, slamming it, and Harry was following him out, muttering words under his breath that even Tom could hear.

"Giving up on more people," he'd whispered.

Tom rolled his eyes, looking at his mother who was sitting in her chair, eyes on her phone as she texted her husband. Tom glanced around the room, spotting a vase of foxgloves, their magenta, primrose shades calling out to him like the girl in the street.

Devilish and merciless they were. Tom wanted nothing more than to inhale their poisoned beauty, their toxic sweets. Tears fell from his eyes like the petals in autumn, and he started praying to the god that still doesn't exist.

#tom holland angst #tom holland series #tom holland fic #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland smut #tom holland hc #tom holland angsy serires #tom holland angsty oneshot #tom holland angsty imagine #tom holland x reader insert

49 notes · View notes

biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago

Text

Freedom Seekers (Levi x OC)

Summary: The seekers embark on their journey, meanwhile the scouts also strike out in search of dragons that have been stirring up trouble near a small village.

Warnings: Vomit, minor violence

Word Count: 5.1K

Levi stood on the sidelines of the large field and watched as his trainees sparred with each other. The sun glared over them, the day was hot for so early on in the summer. The large field was dry and dusty due to the cadets’ boots kicking up the loose earth. Levi watched the nearest pair spar, a short blonde girl and an averagely tall boy with dark brown hair. The fight was over nearly as soon as it started, the blonde girl walking away victorious as the boy landed flat on his ass at his captain’s feet. As the dust settled, Levi noticed a layer of grime settling on his perfectly polished leather boots. He looked down to see the boy rubbing the back of his neck, those jade green eyes of his looking up at Levi a bit sheepishly.

“You are completely limp out there Jaeger. The goal is to fight your partner, not dance around them.” Levi said now looking at the blonde who had thrown the boy, she was waiting patiently for the kid to return to the fray. The dark haired boy sat up, clearly winded, his shoulders sagged in defeat, Levi stared down to him and kicked his back slightly. Pushing him back on their “battlefield.”

“Levi.” A familiar voice said behind him. He turned around to see Hange at the gate. She was kneeled over, sweat dripped down her nose, her glasses fogging from the heat and accumulated sweat. Disgusting. He thought to himself as he watched her catch her breath.

“What is it Hange?” Levi asked, walking over to the woman.

“Erwin needs us to suit up.” Hange said, composing herself. Levi looked around at his team, who were now all listening to their conversation. Large smiles spread on most of their faces, work had been slow since the kingdom had succeeded in capturing Marley. He sighed and walked back over to his team, his arms placed behind his back, head held high.

“Go get yourselves cleaned up. Captain Hange and I will be back with orders.” Levi ordered, the teenagers all began to head for their assigned barracks to wash up and pull on their uniforms. Once the last of the cadets had fled the field he turned and watched Hange rise to her full height. She swiped the back of her hand over her forehead as she sighed. Levi reached deep into his pocket and produced a neat handkerchief, he offered her the piece of fabric and she accepted it gratefully.

“Care to share more details about this mission?” Levi asked as he turned to retreat back to the main building where the superior officers of the Scouting Regiment worked and lived.

“Of course! Essentially there has been an increase in sightings outside of a small village located near Shiganshina. At least three different dragons have been identified in the area. Erwin has given me permission to bring in the smallest of the trio-”

“That’s enough.” Levi cut her off before she could get too carried away. She huffed in defeat, the wind seeming to leave her sails at Levi’s interruption.

“Erwin just needs to brief us.” Hange said, now fully composed. She turned and walked away, Levi followed her. Walking a few good paces behind her. They went into the large castle-like building. The space was not up to his standards of cleanliness by any means. The scouts were only using the building as a temporary headquarters, meaning that Erwin had forbidden Levi from cleaning too obsessivelyI. The building was plagued with the smell of mildew and sweat, it made the man want to pinch his nose to attempt to block out the urge to scrub the place down until it shined. He managed to push those urges into the back of his mind as the pair climbed a set of stairs up to the second story where Erwin’s office was.

Hange knocked on the door three times before letting herself in, the heavy wooden doors groaned in protest as she pushed into the room. Erwin was sitting behind his desk, which was covered in a large map of the continent; he didn’t bother to look up as they entered. Sunlight streamed in through the large bay windows behind him, casting him in a golden glow, his blonde hair shining in the natural light.

“Eyebrows.” Hange greeted as she saluted a bit lazily, Erwin hummed a small smile playing onto his lips. Levi rolled his eyes and made his way to the nearest wall so he could prop himself against it.

“Glad that you both could make it.” Erwin finally set his pen down and looked up at the pair. Hange was leaning on his desk, eagerly awaiting his orders.

“As if we wouldn’t come.” Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes a bit at Erwin’s words. Erwin let out a bark of laughter at the captain’s reply.

“I’m sure you were enjoying yourself with the cadets out in the courtyard?” Erwin replied smoothly, a mischievous glint in his sapphire eyes.

“Not in a million years.” Levi grunted, the mere thought of the idiotic children causing a migrane fester within his head.

“Aw Levi you know that you love those little kids.” Hange cooed as she turned to smile at Levi.

“I do not.” Levi objected, hoping that Erwin would get on with the assignment.

“Anyway, I’m sure you’re eager to hear about your next assignment, yes?” Erwin mused, reaching into one of the towering piles of paper and pulling out an envelope.

“Please.” Levi said exasperatedly as Erwin passed the envelope off to the brunette.

“Rumor has it there is a trio of dragons that have been spotted on the edge of the western wood, along with a pair of dragon seekers. I’d like for you to bring as many of them back alive as you can. This includes the dragons.” Erwin instructed as he dug around in his desk and pulled out another paper, this one was passed off to Levi, who immediately scanned the document with narrowed eyes. Essentially it was a list of supplies that they were to bring along, chains, dragon skin armor, steel blades, herbs that worked as a powerful sedative etc.

“Of course, where will we put the beast if we manage to bring one back alive?” Hange inquired as she tucked the envelope into her breast pocket.

“I’ve made preparations.” Erwin said vaguely much to Hange’s dismay.

“I’ll trust your judgement Erwin…” Hange said slowly, her brown eyes glinting in the sunlight.

“When will you expect us back?” Levi asked, folding the paper neatly and placing it safely in his breast pocket. Erwin stood up straight and crossed his arms over his broad chest, a thoughtful look falling over his face.

“No later than two months time.” Erwin said after a moment of thought. Levi scoffed, his gaze hardening at the estimation.

“Do you really think it will take that long?” Levi growled, his chin tilting downwards as he scowled at the commander.

“Hm hopefully not, but I’m sure it will be longer than the recent missions that you’ve been assigned.” Erwin replied, eyebrows knitting together as he pondered the time frame that they were looking at.

“We’ll have it done by then.” Hange said, conviction thick in her tone. Levi nodded in agreement.

“The sooner the better, we have to be close to wiping those creatures off the face of the continent.” Levi stated as he glanced up at the dusty bookshelves that lined the walls. Erwin hummed thoughtfully as he drummed his thick calloused fingers on the wood.

“Agreed, but let’s not get sloppy with this one.” Erwin said darkly as he looked up and scanned his eyes over his two comrades' expressions. They both nodded in agreement and saluted him one last time before leaving to gather their squad and supplies. Hange closed the door softly behind them as they left Erwin’s office, her face was screwed up tightly as she thought about the information that they had just received.

“I’ll get the brats, you ready the supply wagons.” Levi said, pulling her from her thoughts. She nodded and shot him a weak smile before splitting up with him and heading in the direction of the supply shed. Levi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, it was going to be a hassle to corral the teens. They hadn’t seen action since the front lines of the war about 4 months prior. He knew that they were probably excited to return to work, while Levi had hoped for a longer break.

By the time that Levi had reached the parlor, his squad was already lined up, knapsacks at their ankles and fists over their hearts.

“Hm must say I’m impressed.” Levi admitted as he walked slowly in front of the teens, his shoulders pulled back and hands neatly folded across his lower back.

“Not often that you idiots are punctual.” Levi mused as he stopped in front of Connie, who was now towering over him.

“We’re ready sir!” Connie said enthusiastically as he tipped his chin down to look at his captain.

“Really? Have you double checked your packs yet?” Levi asked with a quirked brow. The kids shuffled a bit guiltily before all collectively stooping and rifling through their bags to double check. Once they were finished Levi gave a curt nod of approval before motioning for them to follow him outside.

The sun was now hiding behind a thick cloud, casting dark shadows over the encampment. The wagon was nearly ready, a few other lower ranking cadets were scrambling to load the last of the sacks as Hange leaned against the edge, her nose in a book. Levi walked up alongside her and tapped her boot with his own.

“All set then?” She asked as the teens circled up, the reins of their horses in their fists.

“Yes ma'am!” Armin said enthusiastically, he’d always been a suck up to Hange.

“Very well then, Moblit my horse!” Hange said, shutting her book with a loud snapping sound. Moblit, her assistant traded her the reins for her book, a nervous look on his face.

“You’ll be careful, right section commander?” He asked, eyes wide and almost pleading. Hange waved him off dismissively and laughed a bit, reaching out to ruffle the young man’s hair.

“Of course Moblit, we’ll be back before you know it!” She assured him, Levi glanced up to see another young cadet bringing his steed over, the black stallion tossed it’s mane, he knew what was going on. Levi accepted the reins with a curt nod in thanks, he tugged himself up and into the saddle, the rest of his cadets following his lead. Armin jogged around the wagon and climbed onto the front seat, clutching the reins as he awaited Levi’s order. Once Levi had done his usual head count and was pleased with the seven heads that he counted he tugged his horses’ reins and trotted out of the fort, his squad behind him.

“We’ll reach the western woods in three days' time.” He called over the sound of horse hooves as they thundered out of the fortress.

Frankie and Killian walked leisurely through the dense forest. The two teens hadn’t talked for what seemed like miles, but they both felt a small comfort in one another's company.

“You want some?” Killian asked, shoving a small Kebabed rabbit in front of Frankie's face. She pushed it away, already full from the rabbit that she’d had earlier.

“Fine. More for me I guess.” Killian said, grabbing the remaining rabbit of the small stick and swallowing it whole. Frankie looked at the boy with disgust. He gave her a toothy smile. The afternoon sun beamed down through the canopy of the dense wood and Frankie sighed, they had planned on moving largely at night, when dragons were to be most active.

“We have to be close. I can feel it.” Frankie said looking around to only see an abundance of trees. She hoped that they could leave the pitiful camp before sundown to continue their journey through the woods.

“Frank’s. It can take years. We just have to try and have fun while you’re out here.” Killian said, nudging the young girl. She rolled her eyes, of course he would say something stupid like that, he was the one with years to try, she only had about ten months left.

“I just can’t shake the feeling that something’s here.” Frankie said, turning a corner by the mountain side. They had elected to camp at the foot of a mountain, which was on the edge of the woods, the village about a day’s walk away. Although Frankie was in her element, shrouded by trees, bow on her back and hunting knife secured on her hip, she still felt uneasy. The wood was rumored to be populated largely by mythical creatures yet they hadn't seen anything more exotic than a quail. She stood and rested her hand against the steep wall of the mountain, the stone seemed to hum underneath her fingertips and she pulled her hand back as if she had been struck. She gasped and stared in awe at the mountain side, tilting her head curiously she slowly reached out and placed her fingertips timidly against the stone once more. This time she wasn’t startled by the humming stone, instead she closed her eyes and focused on the vibrations.

She’d felt this feeling before, it was familiar yet foriegn all at once. Yes, this was the unmistakable feeling of magic, a powerful spell at that. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she recalled the lesson that the elder had taught them a few years back, about how some strong dragons had the ability to cast spells. She pulled her hand back and turned to beam at Killian.

“Come feel this Killian!” She called out, running over and dragging the boy to his feet and over to the stone. She pressed his open palm onto the mountside, his brows furrowed as she looked up at him expectantly.

“I knew you should’ve eaten, you’re seeing things.” He teased, pulling his hand off the rock and looking down at her with a wry smirk. She rolled her eyes and looked back at their small camp,

“Pack it up, we need to check this out, it feels like powerful earth magic.” Frankie said, determination written on her face as she grabbed a handful of dry dirt and tossed it on the fire. The flames flickered out and Killian began to gather their sleeping rolls. Frankie swung her bag over her shoulder and looked back up at the mountain. Killian returned to her side with the supplies in hand, he watched her expectantly, trusting her judgement though he didn’t get the same feeling as her. He did know that it smelled of rain in his nose, a damp smell that was fresh on the mountain side despite the fact that the whole two weeks they had spent in the woods, not a single rain cloud had let loose a drop of water.

He began to mess with the leather bracelet on his wrist. It had become a new habit, the object had permanently made an indent in his pale skin. For it was two sizes too small for him. Though he couldn’t bring himself to take it off. Frankie walked slowly along the base of the mountain, her hand held a few inches off the stone. As they walked further along the mountain Frankie began to hear a voice. Which seemed impossible, for the mountain was far too thick for people to inhabit.

“We must move him before the hunters find us. I can only hold them off for so long.” The voice was deep and scratchy, it made the young girl shiver. The sound was muffled still, and she was sure that the owner of the voice was the one casting the spell. She placed her ear to the mountain trying to get a better understanding.

“What’s wrong with ya?” Killian asked, stepping next to Frankie, his eyes filled with confusion.

“There’s someone inside the mountain.” Frankie said, her eyes darting all along the rock, looking for a weak link in the spell.

“No one is inside the mountain.” Killian said, following her eyes.

“I know there is. You have to trust me. I have not gone mad. ” Frankie said, now beginning to run along the mountain side. Killian followed her pace, a bad feeling taking hold over his gut.

“I never said you had gone mad.” Killian said, with a deep worry in his voice.

The girl ran fast, even dropping her satchel on the ground, much to Killian’s displeasure, he stooped and snatched the bag up once more. She knew there was someone or somethign in there. She just had to find an opening. She was so enraptured with the mountain side, she almost ran right off the edge of a small cliff and into a crystalline pool of water. Killian held her fast, his fist knotted in the back of her cloak. They both breathed heavily as they looked at the water below and the roaring waterfall across the pool.Vines hung from the cliffs, large rocks loomed under the surface of the impossibly clear water, a deer was sipping from the banks, unaware of the teens on the cliff above.

“That explains the water that I smelled earlier.” Killian mumbled as he gave Frankie’s cloak one last tug and pulled her back against his chest and safely away from the cliffside. Frankie shrugged him off and walked towards a thick brush of vegetation. She pulled her hunting knife off her belt and cut through the vines as if they were warm butter. Once the vines were gone, a rough stone staircase was revealed, Killian whimpered as Frankie fearlessly began to descend the steps. At the bottom they found themselves right below the waterfall, the pond to their right and mountain to their left, they had nowhere to go but under the spray of the water. Frankie inhaled sharply and ducked under, leaving Killian standing dumbstruck on the stone steps.

“Frankie?” Killian called out with a slightly shaky voice, he unsheathed his dagger, readying himself for a fight.

“It’s alright Killian, come on in!” Frankie’s voice echoed against the stones as she squinted into the darkness. Killian pushed into the cave and reached out blindly, his hand falling on Frankie’s back, he fisted her cloak once more. She allowed him to hang off of her as she waited for her eyes to adjust.

“Don’t suppose you have a torch on you?” Killian joked despite his shaking nerves.

“Actually…” Frankie reached for her bag and yelped when she realized that she’d dropped it in her haste. Killian chuckled and handed it to her, she riffled through the bag and produced some flint and steel and a small candle. She passed the candle to Killian as she struck the steel against the flint, casting small sparks into the darkness. Finally one of the sparks caught the wick, illuminating her face against the darkness. Frankie held the candle up, causing large shadows to be cast along the dripping walls of the cave.

“There.” Killian said, pointing towards a large passage that sloped upwards, large steps leading up into the darkness. Frankie nodded and carefully picked her way through the moist cave until they reached the mouth of the passage way. Killian still had a tight hold on her cloak, his hot breath on Frankie’s neck was beginning to annoy her. The pair carefully climbed the large steps, stooping down to get a better view of the stairs with the candle. After what felt like hours, they reached a landing, the stairway abruptly turned left going deeper into the mountainside, but having turned the corner, strangely enough they could see what appeared to be daylight. Killian’s grip tightened at the sight, Frankie sighed at the revelation of more stairs and continued to press onward. At last they reached the top, and to their amazement the light that they had seen was indeed sunlight. The top of the vaulted cavern was open, vines draped down the walls of the cave, a freshwater spring bubbled in the center of the large space.

However what caught their attention was not the impressive cave, no it was the hulking mass that sat hunched to the left of the stairs. Yellow scaled rippled and claws scratched against the stone as the creature turned to pull a vine off the wall. When the massive male dragon moved, he revealed two more dragons, one an emerald green with beady brown eyes, which were focused on a shaking young dragon, curled up between the emerald dragons forelegs. The sandy yellow dragon turned once more to the youngling and offered it the vines, the creature whimpered pathetically.

“Don’t make me father! It tastes awful!” the small dragon squeaked out, Frankie stood frozen at the entrance, now grateful for Killian’s touch that kept her in the present.

“You must, this will help with the pain.” The yellow dragon spoke, his voice was gravely and over all abrasive.

“Loto.” A softer voice interjected, the shuffling of wings made a chill run down Frankie’s spine.

“Mind your father dear.” the dragoness’ head poked over the male’s body, chin tilted downwards to keep her eyes on the young dragon.

“But mother-” a draft of air breezed through the cavern and the dragons froze, Frankie knew what had happened. Their scent had been revealed, there was no backing down now, it was time to put their knowledge to the test.

“Who’s there.” The father growled, his head swinging his large head to face the source of the scent.

“We come in peace!” Frankie called out, holding up her hands to show that she held no weapons. Killian shoved his sword back into its scabbard and held his own hands up. The dragon’s head cocked to the side, his golden eye glinting in the sun, his pupils dilating and contracting as he studied them. It was said that just by looking at a person a dragon could tell if they were pure of heart or not. Frankie and Killian now understood where that saying came from.

“What’s a pair of dragon seekers doing so deep in the forest? So far into enemy territory?” The golden dragon hummed, his one good eye studying them, his bad eye was milky, a thick pink scar cut down the length of his face.

“We are in search of our partners, we mean you no harm.” Killian assured the dragons, the smallest one whimpered as it chewed the vines, while the female stood to her full height, at least 10 feet tall at the shoulder, her elegant neck stretched up to at least 13 feet. Meanwhile the male seemed to measure up to be 15 feet tall at the horns and 12 feet at the shoulder.

“In search for your partners?” The male growled, his head lowering as he took a few threatening steps forwards.

“Yes.” Killian said, puffing his chest up and lifting his chin, it was known that dragons were not fans of the meek.

“What is your name boy?” His inquired, now only about 20 feet away, heat radiated off his body, his pale golden scales catching the sunlight beautifully.

“My name is Killian, Killian MacDuff.” Killian said proudly, his gunmetal eyes glinting as the light that was reflected off the dragon hit his face.

“MacDuff….” The dragon said thoughtfully, his golden eye narrowing as he inspected the boy.

“Aye.”

“I knew a MacDuff once” he said a bit wistfully, his eyes glazing over as he recalled the MacDuff he once knew.

“It’s a common name…” Killian said a bit awkwardly.

“Is it now? It’s been so long since I dabbled in the human world.” The dragon mused, turning his head and lowering it to better inspect the boy.

“That’s the truth, may I ask for your name?” Killian inquired, still standing tall in the creature’s presence,

“My name is Gyo, this is my mate Emriss and our fledgling Loto.” The dragon said nodding his head in the direction of the two dragons.

“This is my fellow seeker, Frankie Findlay.” Killian said, extending his arm to the redhead who nodded her head in greeting.

“Pleased to meet you, come in, come in!” Gyo’s mood almost did a full three sixty as he lifted one of his thick clawed feet to gesture for the pair to enter the cavern fully. He turned and padded back over to Emriss and Loto who were still sitting to the left in a makeshift nest.

“Pleased to meet you.” Emriss said, leaning forward, her brown eyes soft and filled with kindness.

“Likewise.” Frankie smiled, not sure what else to do, she extended her hand. Emriss seemed taken aback for a moment before shuffling to extend her clawed foot, tenderly she placed her claw in Frankie’s palm. The girl’s breath faltered as the beast slowly shook her hand.

“How sweet, it’s been so very long since I’ve seen a seeker.” She mused as she withdrew her claw and tucked it under her chest. Loto covered her face with her wings, which Frankie noticed had holes riddled through the thin skin.

“Do you mind me asking what-”

“Those damn Scouts shot her down.” Gyo’s voice interrupted Frankie before she could even finish her question.

“I should’ve known.” Killian snarled, matching Gyo’s frustration.

“We have a healer in our village, if you would let us help her.” Frankie offered, the small fledgling peeked out from under her wing and looked hopefully up at her father.

“No, it’s much too far. We will stay here until she is healed.” Gyo said, his jaw clenching as he thought of the options that were before him.

“Gyo...We’ve been grounded for nearly a month now. And poor Loto’s in a whole world of pain. This is our chance.” Emriss said reasonably, her brown eyes wide and almost pleading towards her mate who’s own eyes seemed to melt under her gaze.

“I suppose… that it has been a while.” Gyo grumbled, as he lifted his large head to stare up at the open ceiling.

“And your spell… certainly you can’t hold it much longer.” Emriss continued, her silky voice made Frankie ease, she stood up as well and brushed her horns against her mate’s, who also relaxed with her touch.

“You’re right, it’s been more taxing than I anticipated, holding the spell for this long.” Gyo admitted as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Frankie looked at Killian, who was looking up at the pair with wide eyes.

“We can make it, if one of you could carry Loto then we could make the trip back in maybe a day or two.” Frankie said hopefully as she watched the pair break apart.

“True, we could. But how do we know we can trust you?” Gyo grumbled, his ears flicked impatiently as Killian and Frankie both hesitated to answer.

“Become our partners! If we can handle the powers that you give us, you’ll know that we’re worthy. If not then…” Frankie said, her confidence surprisingly holding throughout the statement.

“You’ll die.” Gyo growled, his eyes sparking with intrigue at the small challenge presented before him.

“That’s correct.” She agreed, nodding her head curtly as she examined Emriss’ reaction as well as Gyo’s.

“Very well then, I’ll take the boy, Emriss you can have the girl.” Gyo’s voice rumbled in his chest as he shifted and lowered his head, bringing his nose level to Killian who hesitated to reach out. Nothing could prepare him for what he experienced when he touched the golden creature’s nose. A hot gust of dry air nearly knocked him clean off his feet, the heat burned his skin and made his lips feel chapped. The heat swirled in his chest and for a moment he was sure that it would cause his chest cavity to explode. He felt as though he’d been transported to the desert, sand stinging his cheeks and the sun beating down on his strawberry blonde head. But to his surprise when he opened his eyes he was still standing in the cavern.

“Hm now that’s surprising. Normally I don’t match well with scrawny kids.” Gyo huffed, a brazen bout of laughter falling from his jaws. Killian let out a shaky breath of relief as he fell to his knees. Frankie watched with wide eyes as he closed his eyes tightly and fell onto his side.

“Is that...normal?” she asked anxiously as he rocked back and forth.

“More or less. The more compatible the seeker and dragon the less painful the transferal will be.” Emriss answered, standing and walking over to Frankie who swallowed her nerves.

“Alright then…” Frankie relented as Emriss stooped to her level and jutted her nose out for Frankie to touch. When Frankie’s hand came in contact with the warm scales, she felt no pain. But she felt a surge of warmth course through her veins, the scent of wildflowers, damp leaves, campfires, and fresh air graced her senses. Frankie gasped, keeping her hand on the dragoness who chuckled.

“You’re a hunter then?” Emriss inquired as she pulled away, Frankie swayed on her feet as she looked up at the dragoness in awe.

“Aye, that’s correct.” Frankie said, still shaken from her experience. She felt no different really, just more aware of her surroundings, everything seemed to smell stronger, all her senses amplified and perfectly tuned.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.” Killian moaned as he managed to climb to his feet and lean heavily on Frankie.

“That is normal, we’ll take the rest of the afternoon to rest before we depart.” Gyo declared, turning on his heel and wandering over to a rocky outcrop, where he leapt up and laid down, curling his tail around his massive body.

“Congratulations young heroes. I hope that our partnership will be long and prosperous.” Emriss congratulated as she dipped her head, a small smile gracing her narrow features.

“Thank you.” Frankie bowed before leading Killian to the pool to freshen up. Killian pulled his palms through the deep blue water. Looking a bit queasy as he washed his face off.

“I’m not feeling so good.” He said before pressing his body weight on the mossy stones. He heaved over, throwing up all the rabbit he had eaten before. Frankie took the small piece of fabric that had been holding her hair up and put into his. Tying his strawberry blonde locks behind his head as he continued to get sick. Frankie sighed sitting next to the young boy. She had felt light headed but was definitely in better shape than the tewn who was now lying on the floor.

16 notes · View notes

isle-unto-thyself · 5 years ago

Note

What kind of pets do you think the guys would like? (Well, Alfred has an obvious answer, but besides that-

alfred- cats (duh) a lot of them

rupert- he wouldn’t like keeping pets cause he travels a lot but he used to have guinea pigs

jack- he’d have a husky or dalmation cause they’d have the same levelof energy as him

daniel- he’d probably have a basset hound. or a bloodhound

raymond- he’d have a rabbit

humphrey- he’d probably just keep a small flock of hens

dominik- he’d have tropical fish

cedric- he’d probably just have a golden retriever

spade- he doesn’t own or want to own any pets cause he is one

edgar- he’d have a samoyed

lionel- he’d have parakeets

gordon- he’d have a finnish spitz

ioannis- he doesn’t keep pets

finn- he’d have turtles

rogan- he’d have a bergamasco sheepdog

michalis- ioannis won’t let him keep pets, but he’d want a bird. he thinks they’re funny

cecil- he’d have a yorkshire terrirer or a beagle

gerard- he’s fine with helping dragons when they need it, but if he really wanted to, he’d get a bearded dragon or a gecko

rosario- he’d have hermit crabs

zephyr- he’d have a cane corsco or a tibetan mastiff

bridget- she already has a cat (queen) but she’d be really into long haired cats like queen

bradley- he doesn’t like keeping pets, he thinks it’s a hassle, and he doesn’t like animals that much

sasha- he wouldn’t keep pets very often but he’d foster any orphan animals he’d find in the woods

shiki- he also wouldn’t keep pets but he helps sasha with his animals sometimes

vance- he already has a pet unicorn but he’d keep horses too

jay- he’d have a hampster

evan- he’d have a french bulldog

caelus- he’d have a chihuahua

matilda- ferrets or sugar gliders

kenneth- he doesn’t like animals

seth- he doesn’t like animals that much but he helps take care of matilda’s animals sometimes

mc- she’s fine with bear

#bnr #blood in roses #bloodinroses #shall we date blood in roses #shall we date

4 notes · View notes

applepieandacherrycoke · 5 years ago

Text

Golden red

hey! I finally wrote a thing. Based off what (the amazing and wonderful) @thehaemanthus said about the kinda person Cassius should be with (In their opinion.) Not exactly sure where this went, but its a thing now!

read it here on ao3!

301,176 + 215,097 + 258,264 + 381,451 + 123,220 (Might want to talk to the McKoy about that, they've been turning out less as of late, might have some problems with the dirt) + 345,632 + 295,746 + 303,204 + 275,947 + 237,745 =

Math went through Nellie’s head constantly, to the point where sometimes it takes effort to remember to breathe. Numbers and equations knocked around her skull and zipped around like flies, barely giving her a chance to remember them before a new swarm flashed by. She did though, remember them. The adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, keeping one number, discarding another, keeping the probability in mind as the threat of her discovery loomed over her head like the gear-chewer. All with the skill and grace of a Blue.

2,737,482 / 11 (keep the “discard” in case a rainy day comes. Talk to McLaughlin about where to hide it this time, we don't want a repeat of last time) = 248,862 x 10 = 2,488,620

She rolled the number around her head like a marble, staring up at the ceiling as she layed in the obnoxiously large master bed that threatened to swallow her whole in the pure amount of fluff. She had to admit she liked the comforter, the big thick heavy thing being impossibly nice to curl up with. The sheets were another story, giving her the terrible feeling that she had when her barn was asked to grow cotton in their off year. She despised the stuff. Made her feel like her teeth were vibrating and her ears were stuffed.

240,398 + 338,903 + 244,089 + 400,032 (damn good harvest for McCall, it’s nice to see them bounce back) + 358,904 + 238,490 + 234,549 + 233,420 + 358,934 + 258,089 =

She should really get up, maybe go get some coffee. It was kinda funny, less than eight seasons ago she would have killed a man for even a sip of the warm shit juice. Now it was something she expected. Granted back then, she would have gotten killed for even looking at the place she lived in now. All the same, she sits up, being blinded by thick red curly hair as it fell on her face, causing her to huff. She moved it aside in vain, shuffling out of the room and being greeted with the house staff, all panicking like the world was ending.

2,905,808/ 11 =264164.36… x 10 = 2,641,643.0, 153,023 more than sector four

Quietly, as to not interrupt them as they scurried and scrambled doing who knows what, she made her way to do her single house chore. Feeding the fish in the strange tank of water and sand the Gold before her had owned. She couldn't tell you for the life of her why; the fish were far too small to eat, and it seemed like a hassle to take care of, but he did and she’d feel bad if she just let them all die. Especially since the staff seemed to enjoy staring at it when they got the chance, watching the fish duck and weave between the rocks. So, grabbing a nearby step stool, she made her way to the fridge. Climbing her way to the freezer and pulling out the small cup of frozen food, careful not to get her oversized sleeves dirty. She closed the door, slogging her way back to the tank with the step stool in tow. Climbing up once again and filling the cup with the salty water inside.

She added for sector six, twirling the twos and threes, and chewing on the seven and eights. Technically she didn't have to do this, she already got the paperwork in. but still it was good to keep in mind. Good to keep messing with. It keeps her busy. It keeps her sharp, not that she really needs it.

She sloshed the cup around, slowly breaking apart the food and sprinkling it back into the tank watching in slight amusement as the fish began to tear into it. Gently setting the cup next to the stool so the staff could pick it up, she made her way through the hallway and out into the world. Descending the stairway of the large hill the house perched on, she made her way to the local square. Giving vague waves to the Greys on watch and not really paying attention as she lets her feet carry her to the elevator. Descending to home.

Dividing the millions, the seven digit number breaking into pieces, before she smashed them back together. Ripping and tearing and smashing and comparing. Keeping one number in mind, keeping families and children in her head as the bushels don't split quite evenly. There's quite a lot a person can do with corn, and food is probably the most important.

She yawned and stretched as the elevator took her down, down, down to the cavernous tunnels below. The artificial sunlight shining dully from holes in the ceiling and walls all the way down the path. She pressed a button on the far side of the elevator, and smiled as a cart came racing to her. The little four wheeling buggy being mostly used by the ranchers, and bringing them down to the tunnels might have been the best idea she's ever had. She enters it, and speeds off, getting closer and closer to the massive barn of McFly, probably. They were closest, maybe, but she was still getting used to their being so many barns and tunnels. Each slightly different than hers. Sure enough, however, as she got closer the large painting of a fly made its way into view, painted crudely but proudly on the side of the metal building.

She makes her way inside, the door always unlocked, and heading straight to the kitchen, a pot already made and still hot. She made herself a mug, using one of their pure white guest ones, and she took a warm and grateful sip. She closed her eyes, letting the slightly bitter taste and the absolutely wonderful smell wash over her. Lulling her into a sense of peace. Or well, as peaceful as you could get with her.

2,521,603 / 11 = 229,236.640 x -

“Nellie!” someone shouted, causing her to jump and almost spilled her coffee. She turns, scowling as two men run in, one of them being the plowman of McFly. He was a buggy man, with grays in his hair and scars over his lips. He was admittedly nicer than most plowmen in his sector, but the man couldn't play poker if his life depended on it. A damn shame if there ever was one.

“By the Vale, what was that for!” she hisses, cupping her mug protectively in her mits as both men loomed over her, (they easily had half a foot on the poor girl. McGraws tend to come out small). “Bloodyhell y’all, way to make a girl think your tryin’ to kill her.”

“Nellie, where the fuck have you been?” The plowman shot back to interrogate her, before the Grey he was with interrupted him. He had been one of the good ones, back before. The only reason he was still alive, being honest. At least in her book. Mcfly would probably have a very different answer, but he knew the grizzled man better.

“Wait. You were wearing that last time I saw you.” he pointed out, and she avoided his gaze. “McGraw, what day is it?”

“... Tuesday?” she asked, carefully as she played with the sleeve of the oversized sweater she wore as a dress. She winced at the exasperation and confusion that grew on their faces.

“Mcgraw what the fuck.” the Grey mumbled, as Mcfly buried his face in his hands and groaned in disappointment. She would have shot back about when they held back a meeting for almost two hours because the pair of them were burying their tongue in the other's throat, but immediately ruled against it. Mcfly had told her that in confidence, and the only reason he was married to the rude snobby bitch of a woman was a favor to an old friend. It'd be a low blow to use it against him, against either of them.

“Look! Its harvest! I've got a lot on my mind, n’ so what if I'm a day or two off.” she defended instead, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Nellie it's Saturday!” Mcfly groaned, “Look, we’ll talk about that later, right now we have bigger problems. Somethin’ crashed in the pastures.”

She blinks, setting down her cup, taken aback. She looked between the two, “Did we lose anythin’?”

“Everythin’ seems accounted for, but it scared McGee half to the mud pit. Spooked their horses too.” McFly told her, as the Grey handed her a pad. On it she saw feed of something entering her atmosphere, with a few scribbles with numbers beside them. She nodded, pretending she knew what she was looking at, before handing it back to him.

“Well that certainly ain't good.” she said evenly. “Why haven't they talked to me about it?”

“They’re tryin’, they’re at the townhall waitin’ for you, brainless.” McFly snapped. And she puts her hands up in surrender.

“Fine! Fine. ‘m goin’, ‘m goin’. No need to yell at me.” she grumbled, grabbing her cup and making her way to the door.

“No ya don’t! Those cups don't leave this house n’ you know that!” McFly reprimanded, and she scowled at him.

“You ain't my pa!” she hisses. All the same she takes one big chug of what's left and puts the mug in the sink, rinsing it out. Then she leaves, the two men in tow. Picking up her calculations where she left off.

Tear, rip. Sector seven always gets a little more than everyone else, if only ‘cause they make the best ‘shine this side of the galaxy. The stuff could knock a lesser man flat on his ass but if you can handle it nothing burns faster nor quite as good. Not to mention sector seven was very generous, despite the fact that technically it was still illegal.

It didn't take all that long to get back to the surface, much less town hall. Admittedly the fight she had with McFly over the results of the last derby did help speed things along. She wasn't five feet away and already she could hear panicked shouting and arguments breaking out, causing her to give an annoyed look to McFly. If only in habit. It wasn't her first gathering with all the plowmen present, but it doesn't mean she likes it. All the shouting and demanding made it hard for her to focus.

Sucking it up, she walked inside the hall, and all heads turned to her. Some men nodded their heads, others whispered to their companions. Her plowman was missing, (not much of a surprise) and her girls waved her over as they stood with McGee. She had met the eight women back when she had conned the old house McOester out of their laurel. They had come, like they always do, looking for food and supplies for their families and barns, with nothing but their… to offer. Nellie, her brother's sister to her core, thought this was absurd, and just let them head out with what they needed. They had been by her side since, and without them she'd be in the mud pit seven times over.

She made her way over to them, giving them a comforting smile in greeting. She gained a few sarcastic side curtsy in return, before Nellie’s attention was taken by the McGee and a little girl, who seemed to be clinging to her father for dear life.

“Nellie! Thank the Vale, you're here. It's worse than we thought.”

“What, did we lose some horses?” she asked, frowning.

“Worse. We’ve got one of ‘em goldilocks out there.” he admitted, causing everyone in the room to burst into panicked mumbling and whispering, one that made her head ache. “The kid saw it with her own two eyes.” he swore to her, scowling at them. They only murmured louder, soft words of doubt and panic. It was quickly becoming too much for her.

“Quiet!” she shouted at them, turning to the girl, as she clung to her father’s leg even tighter. “Tell me.”

“It was massive.” she whispered, like mentioning him any louder would cause him to appear. “Me, a-and Daniel were just goin’ to see what the sound was, n’ then- then we see this ship. N’ there-there was a guy there, workin’ on it. It was big, n’ tall, n’ it’s hair- it was like Ron-”

“Ey! We don't say that name, Milly.” her father scowled, “You know that”

“But it was!” she defended right back. “It was yellow n’ curly, n’ it had that sign on it’s hand! It was one of ‘em!”

Nellie pinches the bridge of her nose; she had hoped to never see a goldielocks again. Before she was able to respond, McKoy scoffed loudly, gaining the attention of everyone in the room.

“Oh please, you called all of us here for the stories of some bloodydamn kid?” he sneered, leaning against a wall. “it's clearly a joke, n’ a pisspoor fuckin’ joke at that. Ain’t been a Gold round here in years, n’ yall know it.”

“Does she look like she’s fucking jokin’.” her father shot back, his daughter pale and shaken. Mckoy took a step towards him, smaller than the man but plenty intimidating if you didn't know any better.

“Watch your tone, son. Your speakin’ to a plowman, bloodydamn it.” he growled, and McGee stepped between them, getting up in McKoy’s face.

“Really?” McFly snorted. “After your harvest, you still call yourself that?”

“You wanna go, fly boy?” he turned, snarling. And Nellie was quickly utterly done with all of this, especially as the faint sound of harmonizing creeped into the air. She could hear soft warm ups of legs rubbing together to and fro and it sent a terrible shiver up her spine.

“That's enough! I didn't come here to watch a dick measurin’ contest, thank y’all very much. Mckoy, I know you're scared, but that doesn't mean you need to take it out on the rest of us. McFly, low blow. You’re better than that.” she snarled at them both, tired. The singing faded, as did the crowd. She couldn't help her relief. “Now you lot sit tight, chill the fuck out and let me go check, yeah?”

“You sure about that, kid?” McFly asked, sharing uncertain looks with his fellow plowmen.

“You don't have to if you don't want.” McKoy mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck “We could go with ya.”

“Nah, I've got this. Just to check it out” she assured, despite it being less than convincing, she turns to Mcgee “It's a little south of here, ain’t it?”

“Well yeah, but what if there really is a goldilocks,-” Mcgee starts, before the little girl interrupts him.

“It is real! Daniel and I saw it! It was working on its ship n’ everything!” she demanded, before her father hushes her.

“If” McGee reinstates, “there really is a goldilocks, are you sure you'll be alright?”

“Of course. If it exists and if it causes a problem, well momma didn't raise no bitch.” Nellie nods, shrugging. “I've killed a Gold before and bloody damn it all I'll do it again. Any questions?” No one spoke, no one dared. She had made a pretty good point, and if they were being honest, pissing off Nellie anymore then she already was, was never a good idea. “Thought so. I'm borrowing a cart.”

With that, she left. getting into one of the carts parked to the side of the hall and speeding on south, to whatever the hell crashed into her planet. Rolling over the soft green meadows where the animals graze and roam. The breeze whipped through her hair, and it was almost inevitable that she was to zone out.

Chew, gnaw, gnash them with her teeth. Rip the 5s in half, strip 3s like paper, roll thousands on her tongue. It's probably a good idea to start planting other plants eventually. Pumpkins seem handy, so does wheat. She knows better than to do zucchini, not after what happened with McGregor’s off year. But maybe soybeans. Or peppers. Maybe start weaning off corn. It's not like they'd notice, not really.

She used to come up with her brother, when they were able to sneak away. Wayne would've got whipped half to the mudpit if anyone found out, but he loved the stars too much to care. Though she never would admit it, she just thought it was nice to get out of the tiny cramped tunnels. It was where she learned how to play poker, under the pretty night sky.

2s and 11s and different things to notice, funny numbers hidden in layers and distorted to the point others couldn't recognize them if they tried. Eights been having a hard year, and she wonders if she could convince them to nurture trees. Apples, lemons, oranges, stuff like that. They've always been much hotter than the rest of the planet. Might as well make use of it. Besides, how nice would it be to have access to oranges from their own backyard. On that matter maybe she could convince ten to add an apple orchard to the pastures. But where in the vale would she get something like that.

He was a terrible player, his tells were obvious, and he thought she needed to be gone easy on. Still, he taught her the rules, taught her about tells, and let her know that people thought she needed the help. He taught her puppy dog eyes, he taught her the ways people hid their guilt, and more than anything he taught her the value of pure dumb luck. He was a bloody damn good teacher too.

283748 + 338402 + 3705837 + 280928 + 284334 + 394730 + 345394 + 345736 + 382734 + 284759 =

It was easy to think of him, even when it was just looking out a window. Or when she caught sight of the scars she made on the other plowmen. She can still feel her fingernails in their skin, screaming murder as she tore into flesh and blinked the tears out of her eyes. Her gaze never leaving the taught rope even when the fiddles started. She can still feel the rough unsanded wood of the broken table tear at her palm as she swung it with everything she’s got. It’s other shards layed around, or in the man. She laughed then, as her bat turned red, and so did her vision. She cried then too.

283748 + 338402 + 3705837 + 280928 + 284334 + 394730 + 345394 + 345736 + 382734 + 284759 =

There will always be a part of her that will be bitter. Bitter that they screamed for her, and not for him. Bitter that it took so long, took so many of her friends and family, to finally smash a few Greys brains in. Bitter that she had to bury so many of her people, and she couldn't even bury him with them. Bitter that those stupid Greys had the audacity to get their worthless hides dumped in the same place her brother rested-

283748 + 338402 + 3705837 + 280928 + 284334 + 394730 + 345394 + 345736 + 382734 + 284759 =

283748 + 338402 + 3705837 + 280928 + 284334 + 394730 + 3453-

The ship came into view. A small thing, comparatively, that looked like it was better suited for a junkyard than ever being in space. Even when the only thing she had to compare was the scrap heaps that sends the corn to a more important planet. The paneling was peeled off, there were sharp bits of metal jutting out in random places, and one part of the thing was still on fire. That's not even mentioning the bullet holes.

And sure enough, there was a goldilocks. A big one, (a shirtless one), tinkering with something or other, and even from there she could see this was extremely frustrating for him. To the point he didn't even notice her get closer. His hair was curly and thick, and his body was covered in scars. He had a cleft in his chin, and she got the feeling he thought himself attractive. She also noticed that he wasn't armed, which was probably the weirdest thing about him. She cleared her throat, and gold finally turned to Nellie, his golden eyes taking in her red form.

“‘Lo, Red. Do you know anywhere to fix this ship?”

Nellie's eyes flicked to the scar on his cheek. She knew that it was important; how escaped her, but she knew that Ron certainly didn't have one.

“Might know a place.” she admitted, careful to keep her poker face. The gold doesn’t speak, waiting for something. The staff once told her that Ron had demanded that they call him, something or other. By the vale they even tried to call her the same shit. She had, of course, shut that down asap, and if she couldn't have been bothered to remember it. Instead, she waits for him to get over himself. It wastes much more time then she would have liked

“What planet is this, anyhow? My datapad isn’t showing anything.” he asked, shaking himself off and looking around the wide fields

“Shame,” she scoffed, as if it wasn't her savior. “Well, 'm afraid your guess is as good as mine. Couldn't tell ya.”

It was a lie, a pretty harmless one all things considered, but she had to suppress a smile when he bought it. “Prime. Absolutely marvelous.” He huffed sarcastically. Before sighing. “Well I suppose you wouldn’t, now would you?”

That caught her off guard. She blinked, looking up at him like he just grew a second head. He didn’t seem to notice. “’m sorry?” She tried.

“Oh don’t be. It’s understandable.” He told her, cordially. “I’m sure your superior could help me well enough. Your ArchGovernor preferably, But I suppose any old bronzie would do.”

”I don’t-“ she tried, finding herself getting more annoyed by the minute. It had been a very long time since someone had talked over her, and even then she was quick to smash a table over his head. He just walked past her in his pacing.

“And after that, my goodman, you can take my ship to be repaired. Sooner the better, obviously.” he said, and she sighed. Closing her eyes, “Say who is your arch governor anyhow?”

“... Me.” She told him bluntly, annoyed and caught off guard and more than ready to smack something. He hesitated, staring at her, before he snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Funny, but not the time Red.” he scoffed, “Lysander and I need to get back into space. Not to mention this planet looks... less than sanitary.”

“Excuse me.” she hissed. Staring at him dead in the eye. All notions of a poker face gone.

“Well, no offense to you, Red, it's not your fault of course. But it's like the Golds in charge designed this place to look like a shithole-” he starts, before Nellie saw red and smacked him with everything she possibly could. Even if she did have to jump, it was enough to send him reeling. Which was plenty for her.

“OW! By Jove what was that for?” he hissed glaring at her. Seeming startled when she glared right back. “You dare strike a-”

“Shut it!” she snapped. “N’ listen close cause ‘M only sayin’ this once-!”

“No, you listen to me, Red. I am Cassius Au Bellona, an Olympic Knight and a member of the peerless scarred! I will not sit around and get told off by a- a Red of all things!” he shouted, causing her to take a step back, a sneer growing. “Now take me to your archgovener right this instant or I will have you hang-”

“I AM THE ARCHGOVENER YA PISS DRINKIN’ BASTARD!” she screamed at him, pissed beyond all belief. “AND I DID NOT SPEND FOUR YEARS OF MY LIFE DOIN’ MY DAMNDEST AT IT TO BE TREATED LIKE ANYTHIN’ LESS, YOU HEAR ME!? SON OF A BITCH!”

What happened next was probably the most terrifying staring contest in Nellie's 50 seasons of existence. Or it would be, but Nellie was too busy silently berating herself over the lack of grace on what should've been her punchline. Really, “son of a bitch” is the best you've got? She didn't even call him one she just shouted it out like an angry grandpa who got kids tracking dirt through his house. By the vale that made her feel old.

“It's goin’ to take years to get that scrap heap off the ground.” she huffed, remembering that he was there after a moment “N’ that's not even considering that our stuff ain’t the best. You'd get there faster if you walked. Luckily for you, though, there's a ship that carries our supplies to Cerce, and she comes round every half year like clockwork. And 'm sure she'd be happy to take you along with her next time.”

“Next time.” he repeated, frowning harder at the sudden shift. She nodded.

“Ya just missed her. Sorry to say, space boy, you’re gonna be stuck here a minute.” she shrugged, and he cursed under his breath. Turning away, he kicked something and silently cursed his rotten luck. Nellie just waited, letting him get it out of his system before continuing. “Now come on, not much daylight left, n’ supper will get cold.”

“I’m sorry?” he asked, face coiled in confusion, and she had to smile.

“No need to be sorry, baby. That shit heap’s still on fire, and I'm worried Im’ma get cut just lookin’ at the thing. Ain’t no way in hell I’m lettin’ you and- whoever the hell Lysander is- sleep in that. What kinda host would I be?” she shrugged. She then shooed him “Now scoot your boot, Goldilocks. It's hard to drive at night.”

He hesitated. “Are you certain-?” he started before she stopped him with a snort.

“Spaceman I live alone in the biggest house on the bloody-damn planet, I have room for a guest or seven.” she told him, giving him a look. “I wouldn't have offered if I didn't.”

They entered a staring contest, red meeting gold with much less heat than before. (at least, on Cassius’ side) As terrible as the goldbrows were, she couldn't help but be a little curious about this one. The last time she was this close to one, well she was smashing his brains in, and he wasn't nearly as impressive as this one, that was for sure. Meanwhile he was probably debating cutting her into pieces or something like that.

“Fine then.” he said finally, before storming off to get whoever Lysander was. He was a prick, Nellie quickly decided, somewhat offended that he didn't even say thank you. But she's dealt with pricks before, even ones that could kill her with a snap. At least this time she had some modicum of ground.

182 days x 12 hours = 2184 hours x 60 minutes = 131,040 minutes x 60 seconds =

She had a feeling that it was going to be a long year.

… Might want to give sector seven more corn.

#cassius au bellona #morning knight #red rising #Cassius x oc #red rising trilogy #Darrow of lykos dni!#This conflict has nothing to do with you!#Still love you tho #Cassius ends up in a completely different genre and honestly thats for the best.#gross amount of worldbuilding

5 notes · View notes

meditationsfromthethirdrail · 4 years ago

Text

Polarization

There is a widespread perception that the U.S. has become as polarized, politically, as it has ever been. A careful consideration of America history suggests that’s not actually true, but I understand the sentiment and I often feel it myself. Being retired provides me with an inordinate amount of time to ponder this problem and to try to make sense of it. It’s become something of an obsession.

I like to mix it up a bit in social media - primarily Facebook - with persons opining on various social ills and political agendas and especially those blindly sharing fact-challenged propaganda, both from the left and right. I’ve stayed away from Twitter, which by design strictly prohibits posts from being long enough to contain meaningful reasoning. I like to save Instagram for pretty photos of flowers and birds and vacations. But Facebook seems a reasonable forum with enough content flexibility to present ideas with some depth to them. Social problems are inherently complex and nuanced, as evidenced by the fact that most of those problems have persisted, in one form or another, throughout human history. Individually and collectively we often find ourselves in situations where there is no perfect, right answer or solution - certainly not one that can be summarized in a tweet.

Our response to dealing with COVID-19 is a good example. There are enormous difficulties, economic and otherwise, with isolating ourselves from one another, and another set of bad outcomes resulting from not doing that. The tendency, it seems, judging by most of the dialogue we see in social media (and most other media) posts and comments, is for people to take ideological positions, cherry-pick supporting facts (or worse, supporting falsehoods), and promote extreme positions. By “extreme” I mean positions that ignore the truths that are quite often inherent in opposing positions. Again using the debate over proper responses to the COVID-19 pandemic as an example, most people who originate or share political posts on Facebook seem either to be solidly of the opinion that isolation, shut-downs, masks, etc. are good policy, or they’re of the view that all those measures are counterproductive or even unAmerican.

Most people instinctively understand that neither of those views is exclusively correct, but people who are in the middle tend not to weigh in as often, perhaps because their confusion about the solution makes them feel that they don’t have anything meaningful to say. I think those voices should be heard much more often than they are. I feel like I have one of those voices, and that’s why I feel a responsibility to try to make myself heard.

Following is my approach to analyzing sociopolitical issues - that is, issues that can be addressed, at least in part, through government action or some other form of collective action by citizens working towards a common goal. First, I try to understand whether and how the issue can or should be addressed by the government. That question is itself a polarizing one. Conservative ideology contains mistrust of government, especially Federal government, whereas liberal ideology contains high expectations that the government should intervene to address most social ills. Neither of those views is inherently correct. One of the the biggest challenges politicians face, when they’re focused on “doing the right thing” and not just getting elected, is deciding what the best role of government ought to be in tackling specific issues. It should be obvious that the government is not the right institution to deal with some issues (the establishment of religion, for example) but it is the right institution to deal with some other issues (the defense of the nation against an outside military force, for example).

When I attempt to discern the proper role of the government, I avoid starting with the ideological answer. Instead I try to look at it pragmatically. Why is (or is not) the government equipped to deal with the particular issue in question? Can government be effective? Can government be efficient? How will government fund its involvement? What other institutions can or should be involved? What’s the ultimate cost to society, economically and otherwise, to having the government more or less involved? The calculus involved to answer these questions is exceedingly complex; nevertheless that’s what politicians ought to spend their time debating, and their debate should always begin with a careful gathering and consideration of relevant facts, dismissing ideology in favor of rationality and consultation with experts to the fullest extent possible.

One time when I still had an active professional career, I was in Utah to give a presentation to the board of directors of a financial institution. One of the directors was a former U.S. senator from the state, and I happened to be seated next to him when the board convened for lunch. When he learned I resided in Pennsylvania, he asked me what I thought about the reelection chances for a well-known senator from my state who had recently switched his party affiliation. That led to a discussion about certain economic policies, during which the senator delivered the low-tax mantra familiar to anyone who has ever listened to a Republican politician for more than a few minutes. My response to him was that I had never understood why the White House, Congress and the Senate didn’t decide about the appropriate level of income taxes by first deciding a) how much does it cost the government to do the things that everyone agrees it needs to do, and b) what else is the government better equipped to do than is any other institution or group of individuals or companies, and how much does that cost? The answers to those questions, I opined, would inform the government about how much revenue it needs to raise. Cart before horse, as it were. I thought the senator would have a ready answer but he seemed not to have ever thought about it that way. Probably, I surmised, because he was more of an ideologue than a pragmatist. Reducing taxes is Republican dogma if anything is.

Let’s return to the issue of the proper size and scope of government, which is a major bone of contention between conservatives and liberals. I can think of numerous Republican friends whose belief that big government is wasteful, inefficient and disrespectful of individual liberty is perhaps the main driving force (among the forces that involve reason and not just culture, tradition and emotion) behind their party affiliation. A strong preference for low taxes is a closely correlated issue. I think it’s safe to say that almost everyone distrusts the government about some things if not many things. Liberals also believe that big government is a problem, just in different ways - for example, too much spending on the military. That’s a whole other issue in its own right and I don’t want to veer into a tangent here, but the point is that everyone wants limited government, and our Constitution is clearly designed to handcuff government overreach. Where should the lines be drawn, to the extent they aren’t clearly spelled out in the Constitution, as potentially amended?

First I want to say to my liberal friends, it is true that the government is often wasteful and inefficient, and not just in the area of military spending. Who hasn’t complained about long lines or call waiting times at government agencies? Who hasn’t been affected by some kind of government error or bureaucratic hassle? Who hasn’t heard tales of certain government employees and contractors being underworked and (seemingly) overpaid? When my father died and my mother required constant care because she was disabled by Alzheimer’s disease, I spent many, many hours dealing with the Veterans Administration to obtain certain benefits for her, so I know first-hand what a nightmare that can be. Because we experience these things, it’s easy for us to conclude that government is bad, or at best a necessary evil.

But I ask my conservative friends who are particularly inclined to seize on the flaws of government as a reason to dislike government generally, are the alternatives to government necessarily better? Many conservatives and libertarians contend that government ought to be run like a business. Indeed, I used to be a big proponent of that theory. Certainly if government were run like a business, it would be more likely to cut dead weight and strive for cost-effective delivery of services, because that’s how it would survive, fiscally. At some point in mid-life, I heard someone whom I respected say flatly that the role of government is not that of a business. I thought about that and realized my friend was correct.

A business operates not just to provide goods and services to its customers, but foremost to earn money for its owners and managers. That’s the basis of capitalist ideology (more about that in a later blog). The government operates (or should operate) in the interests of its citizens - all of them, or as many as possible. There is no profit motive. If social security, for example, were run as a business, the inevitable result would be that a relatively small group of people would take a sizeable chunk of our FICA taxes for themselves, and everyone else would either receive lower payments or they would pay higher taxes for the same benefits. That’s basically what insurance companies that sell annuities do - they take their cut first. I’m not being critical of insurance companies - annuities have a proper role in the personal finances of many people. But annuities are not affordable for many. The fact that our health care system is operated for profit to a much greater degree than are the health care systems of substantially all other developed nations is a primary reason why U.S. per capita health care costs are so much higher than those of substantially all other developed nations - about double the average, in fact. Again, health care is another polarizing issue, and properly the subject of a separate discussion.

Briefly, another example: let’s say a private enterprise, such as a mining company, turns an area of land into a toxic waste dump affecting water and air quality in the area. One necessary role of government, I would argue, is to prevent that from happening, but it does happen, primarily because of corruption, even if the corruption isn’t always obvious. There is usually no profit motive for anyone to clean up the toxic land and quite often the offending enterprise has conveniently gone out of business. So either the government steps in to repair the damage or we live with the negative consequences.

My point here is that although government has certain flaws, it’s the only prominent, powerful institution that’s designed to provide for the welfare of the people as a whole rather than just those who will profit from running it. Corruption (again, a separate subject for another discussion) is the rot inside government that facilitates the generation of profit for a few at the expense of everyone else, and that’s why it’s extremely important that corruption be rooted out at every possible turn. In a democracy, the act of voting for candidates who demonstrate disdain rather than tolerance for corruption is a critical function of voters. Beyond that, as I said before, we should task our politicians to debate the circumstances and conditions under which government is the best source to provide services to citizens that private enterprise will not or can not. Based on the consensus our elected officials reach, we should be prepared to pay taxes to fund what has been deemed necessary or healthy for the citizenry as a whole.

I believe in having as small and unobtrusive of a government as we can, so I guess that makes me a conservative. I also believe in having a government that provides necessary and appropriate services for the benefit of all citizens, to the extent possible, which I suppose makes me a liberal. The fact is that these labels just muddy the water and cause us to gravitate to extremes. We need to focus on uncovering the best ways to get things done for the benefit of all the people while providing ample incentive and reward to those who make the greatest sacrifices and contributions to getting them done. Those goals are not mutually exclusive - not at all. Indeed, balancing those goals, and the roles of government, private enterprise and charitable organizations in achieving those goals, is the ultimate challenge for those who make the laws of the land.

#polarizationpoliticsconservatismliberalismroleofgovernment

1 note · View note

thewaterisblackwithvenom · 5 years ago

Text

Really though, on the topic of Kieran’s kidnapping, wtf happened? I mean, there are a few plausible scenarios. On his wiki page, there’s this;

“At some point during the night, Kieran was captured by the O'Driscolls. He was tortured until they found out the Van der Linde gang's location. After he had told them everything he was decapitated, his eyes were gouged out, and his corpse was sent back to Shady Belle on horseback.”

Which... yeah, could’ve been what happened, but also. Doesn’t make too much sense to me. “At some point during the night”... dude was drunk as hell. First of all, sober, I cannot see him leaving camp any time at night. Why would he? And even if it was because he was so drunk he wasn’t thinking straight, he wouldn’t be able to go far before passing out or just falling down and not being able to get up for awhile. What I’m saying is that there’s no way he would have, or could have been anywhere far from Shady Bell at night. If he was captured that night, the O’Driscolls knew exactly where Shady Belle was, and that the Van Der Linde gang was there.

If Kieran voluntarily left camp, logically, it would’ve been in the morning, doing a supply run or something. Again, I don’t know if there’s dialog to prove that Kieran ever actually DOES leave camp, but considering it took Mary-Beth a few days to notice or worry that he was gone, maybe it happens. She’s one of the people who genuinely cares about him, so I’d hope it was normal for him to be gone longer than a day if it took that long for her to notice/worry. To me, the most logical scenario for the when and where of his kidnapping was either on the outskirts of Shady Belle, doing chores or smoking away a hangover; or on a supply run or something similar.

“After he had told them everything, he was decapitated, his eyes were gouged out, and his corpse was sent back to Shady Bell”

Do we have any proof he did tell them anything/everything? I’m not saying “Kieran wouldn’t rat!!”; what I am saying, is that we really don’t know how well he’d hold up under torture when he’s protecting people he cares about. He was surprisingly resilient under Van Der Linde torture, though they’re definitely not that extreme. There’s evidence to say that Kieran would willingly give his life for the gang, so I don’t think threat of torture would do anything. Which brings me to my sad second point, that I’m pretty positive decapitation is what killed him, and that he lost his eyes first. I mean, yeah, they could’ve totally did that to him afterwards as a message, but they’re not known for being any form of merciful. Considering the fact that it takes a lot to get Kieran to talk to save his own life, it would’ve taken even more to get him to endanger lives that he valued more. Whether he talked or not is unknown, I think. If anyone knows any in game dialog to prove otherwise, hit me with it. Another point, if he did talk, what did he say? If he was captured overnight, it would’ve been right by the gang, so “where is the gang?” wouldn’t be the question. If questions were being asked.

He could’ve been captured just to prove a point. “This is what traitors get”, and “here’s your stable boy back LOL” He’s not gonna know much about their schemes, they don’t fully trust him, and that’s not what he does or aspires to do. Again, there might be dialog to prove anything for or against anything I’ve said so far, so nothing I say is definite. I’m going off all the knowledge I have whilst throwing logic at it.

So really, questions are:

When was Kieran captured? Where was he captured? Why was he captured? What did they get out of it?

If he was captured outside of camp, the gang’s location is something they could’ve gotten from him. This is kinda sketchy, because unless we really have dialog stating otherwise, it doesn’t seem logical for him to leave camp. And, just going by his mission location, it doesn’t men he was captured the night or morning after Jack’s party. It’s just the last time you see him in game. Rockstar might not have put that much thought into it. It could’ve been days after the party. We don’t know. If he was captured on the outskirts of camp, they might have been able to get little bits of information, but seeing as how O’Driscolls never really interrupted their plans, this seems unlikely. In that case, his capture was purely about sending a message to him before they finished him, and a “f*ck you” message Dutch. Both of which were important to Colm. Kieran just disappearing would’ve made Dutch suspicious, sure. But I think Colm saw that Kieran was actually loyal to the gang, so instead of making Dutch think he just bailed, he made a point that he butchered one of the Van Der Linde boys. “That sweet kid you went soft for and adopted? Yeah f*ck him lol, your move.” If it was just about f*cking with Kieran, there’d be no reason to send his corpse back. It’s not exactly a stealth mission if you like. Send a mutilated corpse back holding it’s head. I mean I guess people might be stunned and therefore perhaps and easier target, but... people didn’t run out to see what up. Just turned their heads. So. There’s not a doubt in my mind that decapitation was the last thing to happen to him. Whether he said a word or not, the O’Driscolls are mean motherf*ckers, and would’ve had fun hearing him scream. They might not have even interrogated him. Could’ve just been revenge. So really,

When was Kieran captured?

the night of Jack’s party?

People were awake into the early hours, but almost everyone was drunk off their *ss. Great kidnapping hours. Kieran himself would’ve only been a hassle to kidnap because he’s not a small person, and probably would’ve been unconscious anyway. No way he was anything close to sober.

The morning after?

He’d be hungover, and his guard would likely be down after a generally positive night.

Days later?

He could’ve been out. Exercising Branwen, picking up supplies.

Where was he captured?

- either on the outskirts of Shady Belle, or outside of camp running errands. If Branwen was gone before he came back, it’s likely he was outside camp, exercising her, or picking up some stuff. Or rockstar just wasn’t thinking.

Why was he captured?

- revenge. This is a definite across all scenarios. Even if he wouldn’t live very long to regret it, Colm would take great pleasure in making Kieran suffer before he was murdered by his hand. Information? Likely, but this would be secondary. Colm didn’t seem to be that into ruining Dutch. He had more than enough men to give him a serious problem if that was his top priority. More likely than not, messing with the Van Der Linde’s when they weren’t an active threat would just be a waste of time, money, ammo, horses, and men. A message? I think that’s clear. Sending Kieran’s body back was more of a hassle, and potential cover breaker. It wasn’t at all practical, so it had to be able sending a message. Otherwise it would’ve just been pointless.

What did they get out of it?

- revenge. Clearly. They had fun torturing and decapitating him. Not a doubt in my mind. Information? Maybe. Not knowing where Kieran was at the time of his capture is vital to knowing what information they could’ve gotten.

So.

What do I personally think happened?

I feel it went one of two ways.

The morning after Jack’s party, Kieran was hung over, and resumed his usual routine. Camp defenses are down, as people are hung over, or just exhausted from staying up all night partying. Caring for the horses, or taking a smoking break, Kieran would’ve been on the outskirts of camp, where anyone could’ve snuck out of the trees and taken him. It wouldn’t be hard, and people don’t really pay attention to Kieran. So even if the whole gang was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and sober, they’re not going to be watching him heavily. They know he’d be too scared to run off, because of them and because of O’Driscolls. In this scenario, there wouldn’t be too much interrogation, and it would’ve been torture for fun.

If it was days after, he was likely taken while out with Branwen, which is why we don’t see her after. The thought I don’t like, is if he was with her, they probably slaughtered her in front of him. Everyone knows he loves horses, and that’s his horse. Not a throwaway. Not a temporary. This was one of my saddest thoughts, and I had hoped Branwen could’ve run away. maybe they just caught him like Arthur did. But... Branwen make the solo trek down from the mountains to find him. So. Doesn’t look good. If all this was the case, they could’ve tortured him for the gang’s location. I really feel like they already knew, as really, wouldn’t be hard to find. If they found Kieran, finding the gang, with that many men on hand, would’ve been easy. The O’Driscolls were like ants. You could have scouts everywhere. Which is my only real reason to believe this scenario is less likely, that he was captured and tortured for location info.

In conclusion, for one of the most, if not the most brutal deaths in the game, we barely know any of the details. The when, the where, the why(s), and what came of it. Maybe that’s some of the cut content. I don’t know. But I do know that with much of the information we do have, things are vague as hell. Which really only intrigues my detective *ss further.

If you’ve read this, and have any further info(bonus if you have screenshots or video so I know it’s legit, and not a rumor or speculation), do let me know. I’ll totally redo this if I have enough new info, but sadly I don’t think I’m missing much. Kieran’s death was shock value, and to knock off yet another person who would’ve sided with Arthur. I don’t think rockstar really put much thought into how/why/where/when. He doesn’t matter that much.

#but he matters to me #and while we'll never know #it's something that'll always haunt me #anyway haha #it's like 4am #I can't sleep #and I've been listening to jazz noir #so just like #imagine me #screenshots all over my desk #slouched over them #chain smoking with a look of existential crisis plastered on my face #hastily scribble notes everywhere #in a dimly lit office #yellow street lights illuminating the rain that's rolling down my windows #the rain drops hitting the window and the ticking grandfather clock are the only sounds you here #other than the occasional car rolling by #distant barking dog #or person shouting #and the sound of my head hitting the desk once in awhile #whilst some moody jazz plays in the bg #while I narrate every waking thought and action I have #in the most hollow rough-yet-smooth tone #occasionally giving a chuckle devoid of amusement #in my defense #this has been the most chaotic week of the year for me #and I have been deprived of a lot of sleep #so my loopiness #is to be expected #Musings

27 notes · View notes