#so the ring got destroyed during the last alliance

[mochiwrites]

Scar feels numb when he hits the succeed button.

He stands alone before the Secret Keeper, staring up at it’s blank face with an equally blank expression. The shock is still in effect, his brain still attempting to process it all.

He’s alive.

But no one else is.

He stands at the monument of the server, the center point of everything. The wind blows, and it feels wrong. He gains five more hearts. A new book appears before him. There is no one to cheer as he hits the succeed button. There is no one to yell ‘fail’ in his ears for someone else.

It’s just Scar, and his task, and a graveyard littered with holes. Pearl’s voice is still ringing in his ears, the way she sounded up until she died.

“How did the guy with no friends win?”

He doesn’t know. The Secret Keeper made him the villain of the server, he had no friends, no matter how hard he tried. His tasks always got in the way of it. Maybe it was easier that way, not having any true alliances. He knows first hand what it does to someone when they have to kill a partner to win.

Scar is alone now, truly alone. He turns around, keeping his back to the Secret Keeper as his eyes survey the spawn before him. It doesn’t sit right, the lack of people gathered around. Sure, their numbers had dwindled a bit during the last few sessions, but it wasn’t by much. The group got smaller, and now it’s just him. Just Scar, the villain.

A laugh bubbles out of his lips, and suddenly Scar can’t hold it in. His task falls out of his hands, hitting the ground and his arms wrap around his stomach as he doubles over with laughter.

“This is— this is one heck of a funny joke guys!” He’s laughing so much it’s hard to breathe. “I wasn’t even trying to win!” That’s what he had told Pearl. He didn’t think he’d survive this long. That’s only happened one other time and…. Well.

His laughter dances on the air, filling the space of nothingness. If he pretends, he can hear the others laughing with him, alongside him.

“You did all that to make me the bad guy. You kept me from making any friends!” A hand covers his face, holding it as his laughter shakes his body. “You guys made me the villain of the server and somehow I’m the last one standing!”

It’s so ridiculous. Maybe there’s some kind of irony in there, Scar can’t be bothered to look.

“How did the guy with no friends win?”

He doesn’t know, but it’s kind of funny. Scar stands alone at the end of the world, with nothing but the things in his inventory and a server full of craters. The big statue behind him stares down at him, but he doesn’t care about its gaze. He continues to laugh, because if he stops, he fears what’ll happen.

“No one thought this would happen, everyone doubted me.” Scar was with them. He didn’t think it’d happen either. Him? Scar? Winning a Life Game? Three hours ago he wouldn’t have believed it. “But what do ya know! Villains can win too, sometimes!”

He’s not sure if he can call this a win. He’s alone on an empty server, with no one around. Scar thought he knew what loneliness was, a cold mountain with deepslate walls and wooden ceilings. But this? This is real loneliness. There isn’t another person around for miles. Every base is destroyed and empty, carnage left behind.

There is nothing here for him.

Scar’s laughter slows to a stop. His stomach hurts. So does his face. He straightens, standing tall as he takes a deep breath. He looks down at his task on the ground.

Win Secret Life.

“Is this what it’s like?” He addresses his question to the sky. There is no one to answer him, but he knows his question will be seen. Scar looks back to the server.

It doesn’t feel much like a win at all.

[eri-pl]

Silm reread 24B (the long-expected continuation): the gifts

or: the Rings of Power & Third Age

Another Sauron recap. He was particularly dangerous because he could shapeshift. But as we've seen before, he was not the only servant of Morgoth who could do that, there were some unnabed others. I suppose sauron was just the best in this and/or most convincing.

After Morgoth's defeat he bowed to Eonwë. So yes, it is probably about the same time when M&M send the letter demanding the silmarils. As I noticed in the WoW chapter reread, they don't go themselves, but still, maybe their emissary could have bumped into Sauron. It would be interesting to see this in a fic.

Maybe Sauron meant it, maybe not, we are left without a clear answer. But he was too ashamed and humilated to go before Manwë and afraid of a long punishment. He was not even afraid that they'd throw him in the void too, just didn't want a long penance, becasue he liked having power. Yes, indeed, you took a lot after Idiot#1. :(

OK, so here we are told that the Eldar could return to Eressea or Valinor. Mixed canon again. But i like them being allowed back into Valinor.

Something something map, Elven kingdoms, the Gwaith-i-Mírdain were better jewelers than everyone except Fëanor. Cool.

Sauron intrigues among the elves for a long time. Also, he badmouths Elrond and Gil-galad. The usual "we can make this land as pretty as Valinor, but yours" spiel. I mean, yes, this works :(

The Rings, nothing new in the reread…

Imladris! It's build during the war of Elves and Sauron for the Rings.

Sauron put some of his malice into the 16 rings too. The seven were made of gold, if I read it correctly. Also, the Nine allow to see the unseen but Sauron can editwhat is seen.

Also, he is still able to look fair at this point, but he prefers to rule by terror. We've seen this pattern of behavioral change before. :(

Again, the people in the South and East are evil and worship Sauron :F

The wording in this chapter suggests that it was the Valar who destroyed Númenor, I guess we're in a different narrative frame?

(Who even gave the in-world editors the information of what actually happnned? Gandalf?)

Elendil&co arrive. The seven palantíri, we get a list of their locations. The palantíri allow seeing things distant in space and in time, most easily things happening near another seeing stone.

Sauron is sitting in the darkness, thinking (Fic potential: what is he thinking about? He just has gotten a full-on divine punishment out of the blue. He's got a lot to think about.) until he makes a new form for himself. Aaaand no, the thinking did not work, he puts on his ring and here we go again.

We get the names of two important evil Númenoreans (but not necessarily the ones with rings).

The Last Alliance (yes, the whole army!) spends some time in Imladris. (Fic potential!!!) They are compared to the army of the West during the War of Wrath. There's a big battle. Fun fact: all the animals split so that every army has some of each species. I really wonder why? what worldbuilding or literary goal does this sentence serve? It seems so random.

They besiege Mordor for seven years. Again, important nmbers are important.

Third Age begins. Mordor is guarded, kind like Angband had been in FA.

Things happen, Isildur dies, what is it with broken swords "loosing their sheen"? First Anglachel and now Narsil. Does it just mean it became dull for some reason? What is it?

Also, Elrond does prophecies. Cool. Well, ok, he does one prophecy but still.

Eärnur, the last king of Gondor had clearly read too much about Fingolfin. And not enough about Maedhros. Protip: when Sauron challenges you to a duel, he is not going to duel you. Just to capture you. And nobody knows what happenned to him. Fic potential. But dark. :(

Also, does Sauron have a checklist with a neat header "things Melkor had done" and just goes along it???

So, Imladris. Elrond lived there for the whole TA, along with many wise beings of various kinds. Which, i think, implies Dwarves, Men (of course), and maybe an Entwife. And likely something I forgot about. also the remaining Noldor generally live there and in Grey Havens.

The fact that Elrond and Galadriel have Elven Rings is not spoken about but most Elves figured it out from the observable clues.

Also, Rivendell is described as a place "above which the stars shine brightest" XD

We get an info about the Istari, it's the version where Saruman arrives first. Also, I forgot that, but Saruman spent a lot of time with Men. He was less of a loner than I remembered.

Also, we are told that he best knew Sauron's earlier deeds. Huh. Did he study them or what? This makes the "Saruman envied Sauron from very early on" idea more likely.

Gandalf ran away from Dol Guldur. It made 100% sense, but still kind of funny. Elrond seems to have better foresight than Gandalf, at least when it comes to figuring out that Saruman is wrong. Makes sense.

"A strange chance" XD Sure Elrond you can't see it, Men are often fuzzy with fate (and Hobbits are Men), and I guess Gandalf's logic is "OK, this can't end that bad, but I can't see a way either, therefore it must lean on one of the elements which I do not see well". He is wise. (Not that Elrond isn't.) and further we get recap of LotR but from the backstage.

Aragorn is 39th heir of Isildur… which means he's 40th of Elendil. And he is very much like Elendil. So 40 is the number to look at here, not 39.

Well, ok, 39 in the sense of "let's recontextualize this number and the concept of Dúnedain form Pharazôn's madness to something good." But I'm not sure Tolkien enjoyed the idea of recontextualization. so maybe it's just "39 looks cool because 3 and 9 and also I want to say he was 40th after Elendil but I don't want it to look like a blatant ripoff".

The last Noldor sailed, so you may argue about Maglor here.

And the book ends.

[astriiformes]

@specialagentartemis replied to your post:

I did not know there was Legolas Age Discourse so heck yeah go off

@flugtm rplied to your post:

I have so little knowledge beyond a general excitement of "the movies were very cool" and scraping info from tumblr, I would love to hear the Legolas discourse

Okay, so there's actually several different types of Legolas discourse (age/hair color/ancestry being the big ones) because he's the member of the Fellowship that Tolkien developed the least, in part because he was originally going to have Glorfindel be the elf member of the Fellowship, before deciding that Glorfindel was too powerful, and since the Fellowship was going to be a subtler operation, they actually needed an elf with less experience and notoriety (something which is very relevant to my opinions on Legolas' age!!)

As a result, we have canon birth years for every other member of the Fellowship--except for Gandalf, because he's been around for most of the existence of Middle Earth. But Legolas has definitely not been around that long. Even the people who skew older for him generally give him a birthdate in the Third Age (or after the Last Alliance of elves and men defeated Sauron but failed to destroy the Ring) because elves older than that are usually attested as such in some of Tolkien's other writings, like the Silmarillion. There's also the fact that Mirkwood's forces, lead by Oropher (Legolas' grandfather) got extremely fucked up during the Last Alliance, so it really feels like if he'd been around for that, Legolas might have had a thing or two more extreme to say about Sauron during the quest.

This is where the Age Discourse begins. Part of the problem is that there was a movie tie-in book that listed Legolas as being born in year 87 of the Third Age (TA 87), which would make him 2931 during Lord of the Rings. This is not an impossible age! But it's not a canon one either, contrary to how entrenched it became. They made it up.

I don't think that Legolas was born in TA 87. First of all, like I mentioned before, the forces of Mirkwood got absolutely wrecked at the end of the Second Age, and I really don't think that Thranduil would have had a kid so soon (by the accounting of elves) after like two-thirds of his people, including his father, were killed and the kingdom was sent into what must have been chaos. Second, I don't think that Legolas is older than Elrond's kids -- which considering Elladan and Elrohir were born in TA 130 and Arwen was born TA 241, pushes him younger than the movie tie-in date.

And then there's the thematic reasons I think he's younger.

Several other people have written some really great analyses on the idea that youth is one of Legolas' defining characteristics--despite him being the second oldest member of the Fellowship by any reckoning, which is an interesting idea in and of itself. I really like this one by Michael Martinez and this one (which delves into some other questions about Legolas) by Tinw. The fact of the matter is, Legolas acts really differently from most of the elves we see in Tolkien's works. He often comes of as more idealistic and optimistic, and occasionally even somewhat naive--but at the same time, grew up in Mirkwood, which was under a constant onslaught by the forces of evil for either all or most of his life, so it's not that he hasn't experienced hardship or danger. They are, however, characteristics one could potentially attribute to youth.

There is a lower bound to how old he is. At one point Legolas makes a comment about the leaves in Mirwkood having fallen 500 times since the Meduseld was built, in a way that implies he saw all those times. So at minimum he's 500. Probably a little older. But I am personally in the camp of him being about 500 to maybe 800 years old at the maximum, definitely shy of 1000.

And in the end the big reason is the themes!! Lord of the Rings is a story about unexpected heroes, not about the most powerful or experienced people in the world triumphing. A 500-800 year old Legolas--still considered a young adult by the standards of his people, with an idealism that many older elves no longer have-- fits much better in that picture of the Fellowship and the other heroes of LotR, alongside a number of other characters who are fairly young by the standards of their people. After all, Tolkien, literally created Legolas to be a less powerful, experienced character. Having him be young works so well with that!

I feel like there's so many more interesting textual and thematic angels to him being a really young elf--probably one of the youngest elves in all of Middle Earth--but it's not an idea that's caught on as much as I'd like to see in the fandom. I will say that when fics give him siblings, he's almost always the youngest of them, which does edge a bit closer to the theory that he's pretty young, but I'd love to see more works that really explore the idea of him being one of the youngest members of a truly ancient people and the weird identity disconnect that has to give him! Especially as an elf from Mirkwood, the somewhat neglected backwater of the elven realms.

So that's my Legolas Age Take. I could go on a lot longer about why I think it works, but hopefully I have made my case here. I just really love Legolas and feel like there's a lot that can be done with the gaps Tolkien left writing about him, and would love to see people explore what I feel like are some of the more interesting ways to fill them in.

Who wants to hear me infodump about Legolas Age Discourse because I've been dipping into LotR fic again and it's reminding me that my preferred interpretation is not actually that popular, even though it has some legitimate textual support, and it's making me feel like writing an essay.

[omgkatsudonplease]

[ficlet, bagginshield] thorin and messrs fundinson (bridgerton au)

After the ball at Long Cleeve Hall, Thorin returns to the smial he has rented in Bywater. It is one of the few bigger-folk-sized smials available in this part of the Shire, for although the numerous cultures of Middle-earth are largely at peace and happy to intermingle, the Shire is still known to be less hospitable to long-term foreign residents.

Even Erebor is a little more accommodating, and that is saying something considering the entire kingdom is within a Mountain. 

He is greeted, upon his return, by his valet Dwalin. Dwalin takes his coat and gloves, and Thorin immediately wraps himself in his favourite blue brocade robe before heading to the parlour for a glass of brandy. 

“How was the dance?” wonders a voice from behind one of the fireplace screens. Smials, like the halls of Erebor themselves, are rather cool due to the insulation from the earthen walls, which means an old Dwarf like his advisor Balin needs to spend a great deal of time in front of the fireplace warming up his joints.

Thorin chuckles, taking a seat on the settee opposite his advisor and old friend. “Eventful,” he says. “A couple announced their engagement, and someone fell into the punch.”

“How in Mahal’s halls did that happen?” wonders Balin, swirling around his own brandy in its glass. Thorin takes a sip of his, smiling. 

“I was not there to witness it,” he admits. “I spent a good deal of the dance out in the gardens. The flowers were incredible, though I could not begin to tell you what any of them are.”

“I thought the point of going to a Shire dance was to dance,” remarks Dwalin as he enters the parlour as well, this time with tea for the three of them. Thorin removes the stock and cravat at his neck with a relieved sigh. 

“I did dance,” he says. “Eventually.” 

“Oh?” Balin raises an eyebrow, his gaze sliding to the latest copy of Lord Stormcrow’s Society Digest on the table beside him. Thorin resists the urge to seize the gossip-rag and toss it into the fire.

Dwalin asks the question on behalf of his brother. “With who?”

“With Mr Baggins,” replies Thorin. Unwittingly, he remembers their first meeting at the Party Field Dance, as well as their second meeting at Bag End with Gandalf chaperoning the two of them. Mr Baggins had looked wonderful at both events in his fashionably-cut coats and brocade waistcoats with golden buttons. And at this latest ball in Long Cleeve he had looked quite dashing in red and gold. 

“The Golden Hare?” wonders Balin, tapping the gossip pamphlet with a knowing twinkle in his eye. “And how did you secure yourself such a treasure?”

“Brother, you speak as if our King is incapable of finding a spouse,” teases Dwalin as he pours the two of them their tea. Not as well or as gracefully as how Mr Rison pours tea back in Erebor, of course, but Thorin isn’t going to complain about that.

“I daresay the two of you have that much in common,” muses Balin as he lightly fans himself with the pamphlet. Dwalin moves to add another screen between him and the fire. “Lord Stormcrow has noted that Mr Baggins has rejected several potential matches in the past. Not unlike our King.”

“Thank Mahal for Dwarvish sensibilities,” remarks Thorin drily. “The last thing I would want is to accept a proposal out of pity rather than love.”

“Or alliance rather than love,” chips in Balin. “Speaking of alliance, the House of Ur is offering a separate mansion in the Blue Mountains for the hunt, since they know Dís will be joining you there with Fíli and Kíli.”

In these long years of peace and prosperity, the roads between the Kingdoms of Middle-earth have grown strong and well-travelled. The trip between Erebor and the Blue Mountains, a journey that used to take several months and was fraught with danger from Orc bandits in mountain passes and Spider ambushes in Greenwood, now takes but a month or two on the Great East Road in one’s fastest coach.

“I presume Prime Minister Dáin will handle Erebor in our absence,” says Thorin, with another sip of brandy. 

“He will, though he urges your safe and speedy return before the snows come,” says Balin. “I’ve been replying to his ravens with reports of your movements, of course, but these days I find my job has been taken from me somewhat by Lord Stormcrow.”

Thorin scowls. “Do not send such pernicious lies to him.”

Balin chuckles. “Stormcrow doesn’t know you, Thorin,” he points out. “But he does pass judgement on your actions. So if you don’t act so cold...”

“I have a plan for that,” replies Thorin. “In fact, that is where Mr Baggins comes in. We have an agreement to spend this season in each other’s company.”

Dwalin’s brows furrow. “Odd way to say that you are courting him,” he remarks.

“We are not courting,” replies Thorin. “Rather, we are only giving others the appearance of a courtship.”

“To what end?” wonders Dwalin.

“To the softening of my image for my goodwill trip through Eriador?”

“And what’s in it for Mr Baggins?” asks Balin.

“To ward off unworthy suitors.”

Both of the Fundinson brothers snort at that. “I fear you may have just doomed the Golden Hare to another failed social season, Your Majesty,” remarks Balin drily. “No suitors would dare rival a King.”

“Mr Baggins’s One may,” replies Thorin.

Balin and Dwalin exchange a glance. “Thorin,” says Balin after a moment, his advisor voice pointedly soft and gentle. “I know your intentions are good, but... matters of the heart often hang upon a knife’s edge. If you stray but a little...”

“I will not fall,” insists Thorin. “Love is a madness that I cannot afford to experience.”

“Cannot afford to, or are scared of?” wonders Balin. 

Thorin does not dignify that with an answer. “All that is required of me is to send flowers to Mr Baggins’s residence, walk with him every day, and dance with him twice at every ball. It is completely doable without feelings becoming entangled in it. Doubly so when Mr Baggins has a chaperone present.”

Balin sighs at that, looking over at his brother. Dwalin says nothing, only refilling his own cup of tea. Thorin pours the contents of his own teacup into his brandy, and downs the whole thing without a second thought. 

“I can only advise you on your actions, Your Majesty,” says Balin after a moment. “So all I can say to this is... be careful.”

[zilllathegod]

Mass Effect Trilogy Mission Order

With the release of the Mass Effect Legendary edition I decided to gather a mission list so I can guide myself through the games efficiently. This guide should include the base missions and the DLC. Through the years I have glanced at list like this during my playthroughs so I figured if it was useful for me it may be useful for the internet also.

*Planet scanning between missions

Eden Prime

Therum

Feros

Noveria

UNC Side Missions - Citadel side missions (loads of cool stuff) - (Garrus/Tali/Wrex) specific missions

DLC: Bring Down the Sky

Virmire

Ilos/Endgame

*Planet scanning between missions

Prologue / Freedom's Progress

Citadel - Pick up Kasumi from DLC

Omega - Pick up Zaeed from DLC

Omega: The Scientist

Kasumi: Stolen Memory - Kasumi's loyalty mission rewards you with the Locust SMG, a really nice SMG.

Dossier: Archangel

Dossier: The Convict

Dossier: The Warlord

Horizon - will automatically trigger. Don't miss the Particle Beam weapon on the ground about halfway through the level, it's really nice for dealing with the Praetorian enemies.

Recruit Tali

Dossier: The Justicar - While on Ilium, you can talk to Liara to get some help but don't start the Lair of the Shadow Broker stuff yet.

Dossier: The Assassin

-- Now you've got all your recruits, so start doing loyalty missions.--

Tuchanka: Mordin's Loyalty - I always recommend keeping the data, as it opens up way more branches of story in ME3, but it's ultimately up to you.

Tuchanka: Grunt's Loyalty

Collector Vessel - This triggers after you complete Horizon and then 5 other missions. So now.

Illium - Miranda's Loyalty

Aeia: Jacob's Loyalty

Citadel: Garrus's Loyalty

Citadel: Thane's Loyalty

Illium: Samara's Loyalty

Zaeed's Loyalty - Warning: If you want to go Paragon during this mission you've got to beat a really high Charm check to keep his loyalty. I usually just look the other way on this one and hate myself for it later, to make sure he stays on board.

-- The next missions all involve high Paragon/Renegade checks, so we save them for now --

Pragia: Jack's Loyalty - Afterwards, you'll need to break up a fight. Use your Paragon or Renegade option to keep both characters loyal.

Quarian Fleet: Tali's Loyalty - This mission has a big impact in ME3. To keep her loyal, use Paragon/Renegade options whenever possible, and don't use the data to defend her innocence. If you sent Veetor with Tali back on Freedom's Progress, and Kal'Reegar survived Tali's recruitment mission, you can successfully use the "Rally the Crowd" option to get the best outcome here. Otherwise, you'll need to use Paragon/Renegade all the way through to make it happen. Hopefully your scores are high enough for that, which is why we saved it for here.

DLC: Overlord - This is a good point to put this in. You've just killed a lot of geth, so let's go kill some more!

DLC: Normandy Crash Site - If you picked this up, now is a good time for a nostalgic flashback before you head off on a suicide mission. -- POINT OF NO RETURN: Make sure everyone is loyal and you've done any side missions that you want to --

Mnemosyne: Reaper IFF

Geth Base: Legion's Loyalty - Take Tali for interesting dialogue. This mission's decision also plays heavily into ME3. Afterwards, you'll need to break up another fight. Just like last time, use Paragon/Renegade to keep both characters loyal.

Normandy Interlude

Omega 4: Suicide Mission - The following composition always gets everyone out alive for me, but again, it's your call, and I know there are other workable options as well: Fire Team Leader (Garrus), Tech Expert (Tali), Escort (Mordin), Biotic Expert (Samara). Take Miranda to the final fight for some interesting dialogue, and be sure to always leave Grunt, Zaeed, and Garrus to hold the line. They have a higher internal success score for that job, so it'll help make sure your whole team makes it out.

DLC: Lair of the Shadow Broker - This should be played right here, as the information you get from it is integral to ME3

DLC: Arrival - Very last, as ME3 picks up right afterwards

Prologue: Earth

Priority: Mars

Priority: Citadel I - During this mission, players can visit Ashley or Kaidan and Thane at the hospital, recruit the reporter Diana Allers, and recruit either Dr. Chakwas or Dr. Michel.

Normandy: First Visit

N7: Cerberus Labs & Citadel: Alien Medi-Gel Formula

Priority: Palaven - Following this mission, return to the Citadel to deliver items.

Aria: Blood Pack

Aria: Blue Suns

Aria: Eclipse

Citadel: Hanar Diplomat (Kasumi)

Grissom Academy: Emergency Evacuation (Jack) & Citadel: Biotic Amp Interfaces - This mission must be completed ahead of Priority: Citadel II or there are dire consequences. Players can also choose to complete this mission as soon as they receive it.

Priority: Eden Prime (From the Ashes DLC) - Players can recruit Javik as a squadmate.

Meet the Diplomats & Priority: Sur'Kesh (Mordin)

Attican Traverse: Krogan Team (Grunt) & Citadel: Krogan Dying Message

Tuchanka: Turian Platoon - Players need to be careful, as three missions will be available on Tuchanka. They should not choose Priority: Tuchanka yet. Immediately following this mission, players need to go straight to the next mission to avoid disastrous consequences.

Tuchanka: Bomb & Citadel: Cerberus Automated Turret Schematics

N7: Cerberus Attack & Citadel: Improved Power Grid

N7: Cerberus Abductions & Benning: Evidence

Priority: Tuchanka

Players can find items for characters on the Citadel in the following systems: Apien Crest: Banner of the First Regiment Kite's Nest: Pillars of Strength Ismar Frontier: Prototype Components Shrike Abyssal: Prothean Obelisk

N7: Cerberus Fighter Base & Citadel: Heating Unit Stabilizers

Priority: Citadel II - Players should make sure they have spoken to Thane at the hospital ahead of this mission.

Mesana: Distress Signal

Ardat-Yakshi Monastery (Samara) & Citadel: Asari Widow

Citadel: Aria T'Loak (Omega DLC) - Once players choose to join Aria's fleet at the Citadel, they will not have the option to return until the full DLC is completed.

Arrae: Ex-Cerberus Scientists (Jacob) & Citadel: Cerberus Turian Poison

Citadel: Volus Ambassador (Zaeed)

Priority: Perseus Veil

Priority: Geth Dreadnought

Rannoch: Admiral Koris & Citadel: Target Jamming Technology - When landing on Rannoch, players need to be careful not to choose Priority: Rannoch. Players need to make sure to rescue the Admiral, no matter what, to have the best chance at a compromise between the Geth and Quarians.

Rannoch: Geth Fighter Squadrons (Legion) & Citadel: Reaper Code Fragments

N7: Fuel Reactors & Citadel: Chemical Treatment - Players should be sure not to confuse this mission with the one to Destroy the Reaper Base. Following this, Shepard can return to the Citadel to deliver items.

Priority: Rannoch - To broker peace between the Geth and Quarians, the following conditions must have been met: Tali and Legion must both be alive; Tali was not exiled in Mass Effect 2; Legion's loyalty mission was completed, and the Heretics must have been destroyed; Shepard must have broken up the fight between Legion and Tali in Mass Effect 2 without taking sides (i.e., using Charm/Intimidate); Shepard must have four bars of Reputation; Koris must have been rescued on Rannoch; Shepard must have completed Geth Fighter Squadrons. If any of these conditions were not met, players will be forced to choose a side.

Players can find items for characters on the Citadel in the following systems:

Nimbus Cluster: Library of Asha Athena Nebula: Hesperia-Period Statue Irune: Book of Plenix Valhallan Threshold: Prothean Data Drives Argos Rho: Kaklisaur Fossil Silean Nebula: Rings of Alune Dekuuna: Elcor Extraction Dekuuna: Code of the Ancients Hades Nexus: Obelisk of Karza Hades Nexus: Prothean Sphere

Priority: Citadel III

Priority: Thessia - Bring Javik and Liara for additional lore and a few important discoveries.

N7 Communication Hub & Citadel: Cerberus Ciphers

Priority: Horizon - To ensure Miranda survives, players need to do the following: Shepard must talk to Miranda on the Citadel Docks; they must warn her about Kai Leng in the Specter office; Shepard must have met with Miranda in the apartment on the Citadel and given her access to Alliance resources.

Citadel: Dr. Bryson (Leviathan DLC)

Citadel: Shore Leave (Citadel DLC) - Avoid leaving the Citadel until after the party

Priority: Cerberus Headquarters - This is the Point of No Return. Following this mission, players will go straight into the endgame.

Priority: Earth  - For the best possible outcome, players need 3,100 EMS prior to this mission.

[jjiioouupp88]

Grian is Liz

"You know how people have these little habits that get you down? Like Bernie! Bernie liked to chew gum--no, not chew. Pop!"

Except replace 'chew' and 'pop' with 'steal enchanters' and 'lose a life' or 'generally be reckless' but those don't quite have the same ring to them

Well, I come home this one day, and there's Bernie, layin' on the couch, chewin'--no, not chewin', poppin'!

So, I said to him, I said "Bernie, you pop that gum one more time…"

Ok now granted I'm not the most knowledgeable on the happenings of 3rd Life, but I'm pretty sure scar was the main motivator for the Dogwarts vs desert war. Wasn't he trying to undercut Ren's renchanting sales? And yet Grian stuck with hint through it cuz of his life promise.

"And he did. So I took the shotgun off the wall and I fired two warning shots

Into his head!"

Final duel, scar basically let Grian win, even with Grians warning that he

-Scott is June

"Now, I'm standin' in the kitchen, carvin' up the chicken for dinner"

He and Pearl were really just chilling for most of Last Life

"You been screwin' the milkman!" he said, and he kept sayin', "You been screwin' the milkman!"

Less Scott's pov, and more just LL in general. The boogeyman betrayals destroyed so many alliances during LL which worked to Scott's favor because everyone else was less prepared due to distrust and death. Specifically BEST and the Southlands, which could've been big threats but dissolved to suspicion and lies before the final few sessions

"Then he ran into my knife.

He ran into my knife ten times"

Ren running into Scott's arrows like a million times before finally dying.

-Pearl is obviously Velma

"My sister Veronica and I did this double act"

Referencing Last life, she and Scott were a pair since the beginning.

"And my husband Charlie traveled around with us."

Cleo joined them later in LL, making the classic GGG alliance

"And we run out of ice, so I went out to get some"

She goes to the Nether with Martyn to get resources

"Well, I was in such a state of shock, I completely blacked out. I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, when I was washin' the blood off my hands, I even knew they were dead!"

2nd session, sleep deprivation, went a little crazy and then it just kinda stuck. She wasn't trying to kill people, deaths just sorta happened around her.

This relation is the most 1 to 1 out of any I think

-Martyn is Annie

"two years ago and he told me he was single and we uh, hit it off right away."

Him and Scott, day one allies

"So, we started livin' together. He'd go to work, he'd come home, I'd mix him a drink, we'd have dinner"

They operated pretty separately during Limited Life but they were a team and did have each other's backs

"Then I found out, single my ass! Not only was he married, well, he had six wives;"

It wasn't really secret in LimL but Scott did go out of his way to give time to Cleo, and Jimmy. Two close, past allies of Scott. As well as Scott's usual making Flower Husbands references whenever he gets the chance.

"So that night, when he came home, I mixed him his drink as usual"

Martyn and Scott had each other's backs until final 3

"You know, some guys just can't hold their arsenic!"

Except replace 'arsenic' with 'lava' cuz that's how Martyn got that last kill on Scott.

Or! Replace 'arsenic' with 'time'/'seconds' since that was the whole gimmick, and Martyn was taking Scott and Impules's time

-Scar is Mona I think (little bit of a stretch)

"He was a real artistic guy, sensitive, a painter"

Listen, I know theyre describing the guys they killed but hear me out. Sounds like scar-

"But he was always trying to "find himself"."

Always looking for friends, but never really sticking to one group

"And on the way, he found Ruth, Gladys, Rosemary and Irving"

Final session how he like half-teamed with everyone so they didn't go after him

"I guess you can say we broke up because of artistic differences

He saw himself as alive. And I saw him dead"

Everyone saw him as a tentative ally, he saw himself as alone

Watchers saw him as dead, he saw himself as alive (only winner not to die)

-Cleo is hunyak??

The only real reason I have for this is that I'm pretty sure Hunyak is the only one who's not a real killer, and secret life is the like one-off not a real life series. Also I don't think she got a kill in RL? ("Uh-uh! Not guilty") Might be wrong on that one.

"which celestial object-"

WHICH OF THE SIX MERRY MURDERESSES OF THE COOK COUNTY JAIL ARE THE WINNERS??? (Cell Block Tango- better known as 'He ran into my knife. He ran into my knife Ten Times.)

YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS GO:

[ladyspaceradio]

Population: Me + You

Summary: The last thing on Ryders mind was having kids. She didn’t even have a significant other, let alone a romantic interest. However when Tann proposes something to help the colonist with repopulation efforts, asking Ryder to be the forerunner of it, she wasn’t sure how to take it. But now she's got a missing Sage, a grumpy baby daddy, a convention that might change everything, oh and she has to figure out how to tell Evfra he's going to be a father!

Warning: NSFW SMUT

AO3 LINK

                                                 Chapter One

“I’m-I’m sorry can you repeat that?” Ryder sat there stunned, eyes unable to focus on the Asari doctor whose name she couldn’t remember. 

Stepping closer, the doctor placed their hand on Ryder's shoulder. “You’re pregnant, congratulations.” 

Ryder’s head tilted to the side, glazed eyes stared at the asari though she wasn’t exactly seeing her. “I’m...what?” She breathed, mind swirling in chaos not really able to grab on coherent thought. “Pregnant.” The asari spoke slower, softer, there was a frown marring her expression. She probably wondered why the human pathfinder wasn’t jumping for joy. 

She’s gotten it wrong. Ryder clings to that thought. Because she couldn’t be pregnant. Not her. Because if she was-

Not possible. 

“That's not possible.” Ryder sinks deeper into the bed, the white paper sheet crinkles under her. She takes note that the asari is young, not even having her matriarch marks yet.

“You would think,” The asari beamed.  “Andromeda is full of surprises. We’re still looking into what exactly dissolved the blockers. Some think it's a bacteria, but I’ve been looking into those vaults. If they can make planets viable, just imagine what else they can make fertile!” Her excitement starts to dwindle as she studies Ryder’s pale face. “Erm, I’ll go get you a cup of water.”

“I can’t be pregnant.” Ryder slid off the table. Her feet feel light, and head lighter. Something turns in her stomach. “It’s not possible.” “Pathfinder,-” “Your tests are wrong.” She waved a hand. “I can’t be….” She shakes her head. The asari studies her. “If you need proof.” She opens the door to the hallway. “Follow me.”

Ryder stands in the mouth of the doorway, swaying. Her stomach twisted into knots. Lexi would probably say she’s in denial, some psychological trauma from her childhood. But then Lexi wouldn’t be lying to her. 

“Come on.” The asari smiles, it seems false, twisted in Ryders opinion. Perhaps this was just another one of Tann’s tricks. He was the reason she was here to begin with. 

He had contacted her, pestered and nagged her into this. Coming into the clinic to remove her blockers, to be a leading light for colonists to follow. 

“They need comfort to know that it's safe.” Tann folded his spindly fingers, a smile stretched across his leathery skin. “It is your job to lead them down the path of the future.”

The future.

Her eyes dropped to the trashcan by the door, she just might vomit into the bag there. 

“Pathfinder?” The asari dipped her head catching Ryders eye.

Lifting her chin she stepped forward into the dim hallways. 

                                     ----3 weeks earlier-----

The humidity on Aya was a hell of a thing. Paradise that came with a price, already she could feel the droplets of water clinging to her skin. It wasn’t that it was hot, but rather misty. Sighing Ryder ran a hand over her deflated curls and eyed the surrounding Angara celebrating with pride. Their joy, while delightful  to watch, gave her a splitting headache and rattled the teeth in her jaw from the burst of concentrated bioelectricity. This was the reason she chose to sit at the bar. 

And because Evfra was currently nursing another cup of Taavum looking spiteful.

“Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating?” Ryder leans against the bar, her tall cup of Taavum, a lovely smelling angara beverage, cupped between her hands. She knows how potent this stuff can be and has no desire to get drunk tonight. 

So she tilted her head down, letting the red curls cover her face as she studied the obviously displeased angara general who was hunched over his third glass of Taavum dissuading any of his soldiers from coming up and speaking with him. 

“I am.” Short and concise, but his sour face made him look as if he’d been sucking on lemons and not being adored by his people over what they thought was the last Kett ground base on Voeld being defeated. 

“Truly?” Ryder slides into the seat beside him, giving Roaan a small wave across the bar. “And is that true joy I hear ringing in your voice?” She puts her elbows on the counter, angling her body to look at him.

“It is...” He pauses looking at her, the dark blue of his iris look darker against the contrast of the white rofjinn wrapped and his broad shoulders. A gift from the initiative, one Evfra hadn’t enjoyed considering the small initiative logo stitched into the corner. He was likely to wear it tonight only for political gain, and destroy the offending material later. 

A pity considering how handsome he looked in it. 

“Hard.”

She blinks looking into his eyes and away from his physique. More than once Evfra had been a star player in some fantasies she had brewing in her subconscious. “What is hard?” Her voice is low and husky, she does not think he gets the innuendo.

“To believe this war is almost over.” 

Almost

It’s been three years since she killed the Archon. In that time they’ve worked together to build alliance between their people, cultivate a culture of respect and peace, and fuck the kett up so hard they wouldn’t even think of coming back for fear of getting their asses kicked again. 

“Hard to believe I slept over 600 years just to hear you bellyache about my cooking.” She tossed out, feeling a high as the slow releasing alcohol ran through her veins. 

His face contorted in disgust. “Your food is bland, tasteless, and should have been used against the kett.”

“Hey now! I’ll have you know Prime Rib is a delicacy, you should be thanking me for sharing.” She huffed out a small laugh and nudged his foot beneath the counter. “Your people have a future Evfra, and it’s thanks to you.” 

“Our people Ryder.” Evfra reaches over and touches her bare shoulder. She shivers at the power in the one hand that spans over half her back. “This is all possible because of you.”

She licks her lip, tapping the countertop. “And to think, in the beginning you stole all my credit-I’m kidding wipe that look off your face.” He’s not looking at her but rather something behind her. 

Turning her head she surveyed the crowd of angara when her eyes landed on the odd couple drawing everyone attention.  

Tilting her head to the side she watched Evfra observe the woman, who held the hand of a human male. It wouldn’t be such an odd sight except she was heavily pregnant. It seemed all the angara had taken notice. This was a rare sight considering there were delays on the repopulation efforts. Most to do with the fact that colonists wanted safety and security before starting a new family. Another part that so many families had been ripped apart by the war before. 

The woman stopped and smiled at the man who touched his hand to her expansive stomach. 

Ryder hummed softly and peered at Evfra’s face, noticing his eyes were slitted. He looked ready to shoot something. “Something wrong?” There was a noise of disgust that left his lips as he spoke. “Your people do not recluse during late stages of pregnancy?” He turned looking at Ryder, dragging his gaze down her face then form, settling on her stomach. Something fluttered inside her womb at the gaze. 

Or it was the alcohol. 

“Nah, we’re social butterflies.” She picked up her drink, sipping it, taking any excuse to not look at his face. “Not the same for your people, I’m guessing.” Now that she thinks about it she definitely never saw a pregnant angara. 

At least she didn’t think so. She knew that the angara had pouches, and that pups were small. 

“No.” He snarled, lips peeled back, his scar wrinkling under the expression. He turned back to the bar and downed the cup in front of him. 

She waited to see if he said more he just stared at his hands. Silently brooding. 

“I can’t imagine being cooped up.” Ryder swiveled in her chair grinning at the obviously happy pair making their way through the market. “I’d probably put a knife if anyone tried to cage me.”

Evfra snorted. “Like you did the Primus?” He offered. 

She pursed her lips. “Wish I did more to her.” She muttered, taking a gulp of the drink. It had a heady salty taste that ended in a sweet tang. 

Primus had been a Devil, far worse than the Archon since she had not desire to waste time gawking at the Remnant. She was pure evil, seeping a dark claws into Heleus seeking to erase everything but the Kett. 

In the end it had been her pride that led to her demise. She had wanted to see Ryder die by her own hands, for the ‘glory of the Empire.’ 

But there had been no glory in her death as she choked on her own blood watching Ryder stand over her. 

Taking another gulp of the drink, Abigail shook away the memory. Smacking her lips she looked at Evfra. “You ever just think about how you're getting older?” Eyes crinkle in the corner when his face delved into a sour expression.

“No.” 

“L-I-A-R,” She sang angling her body towards him. “You think about it. I think about, we all think about it. Its like waking up one day going, huh my life's half over and what do I have to show for it? A whole lotta nuthin’” She slapped her palm on the table. “Sure I’m the savior of the galaxy but that jazz is worth what?” “Millions of lives.” Evfra offered, looking almost amused as she swayed in her chair.

“Exactly! And do you know how many of those lives I’ve had in my bed?” She threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over her drink, if Evfra hadn’t grabbed it. “Not a one!” She sinks into the counter, both arms stretched out in front of her.

“Why would you want that many in your bed?” Evfra moves her cup to the other side of the bar. 

“I don’t want a million dicks.” Ryder grumbled, lifting her head to glare at him. “I want one. One glorious dick to be my dick forever.” 

“Perhaps you should speak with your doctor about this obsession-” He grunted and caught Ryders flailing hand as it smacked him in the chest.

She stares at her tiny hand in his massive one. Completely swallowed. She shivers at the heat radiating even through the glove. 

“No one needs a Pathfinder anymore.” She murmurs looking up at him. “And what will I do then?”

They’re both silent for a moment before he sighs. “You find something else to occupy your time. Your nose is large enough to be in everyone's business.” He’d seen how she sought out even the little task to perform. Just the other day she stopped to show a recruit how to take apart a milky way gun. 

“I have a beautiful nose.” She grunted looking at him, said nose wrinkled. Much to Evfra’s annoyance however her eyes began to mist over. “Why can’t anyone recognize that?” Her bottom lip jutted out starting to quiver. 

Evfra cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. “Your nose is the right fit for your face.” He offered.

“Really?” Ryder squeaked looking up at him. “I thought it was too big.” She touched her face and sagged. 

His hand touched her jaw, turning her to look at him. “You are perfect.”

Three words. Three simple words that came from the most unlikeliest of people. 

Ryder stared at him even after he pulled his hand back and looked away. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable from her silence or her staring. 

“You're handsome.” She blurts as he starts to speak, her declaration silencing him. He turns to look at her, eyes roaming over her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “You are drunk.” He decides with a sigh. “I will call the tempest and have Jaal fetch you.”

“I’m not drunk.” Ryder pushed her thick hair back. “I’m high on liquid courage.” She smiles at him, though she is inclined to think she might be drunk when her mouth continues to spew thoughts from her brain. “I always thought you were handsome. Scar really adds to the good looks.” She nibbles her lips looking at him now, eyes tracing along the scar.

How many times had she fantasized kissing those twin lines that defined his features. Oh how she pictured nibbling them down to his lips that looked so plump that she knew they would cradle her own against them. 

Ryder shuddered leaning forward. He’s studying her expression when she reaches over, laying a hand on his muscular thigh.

“If you weren’t so walled off, Evfra, I’d almost suggest we hook up.” Ryder wiggles her brows.

He lets out a soft snorting chuff, his hand grabs hers and pulls it away before it could wander up to the crux of his thighs. “I think you’ve had enough.” He rasps in a husky tone, one that makes her thighs clench together as heat floods her core. “I will walk you back to your ship.” He slides out of the seat in a smooth motion that makes her head a bit dizzy.

“No thanks,” She jerks her arm out of his grip. “I don’t….I don’t want to go back there.” She curled an arm around her waist. “It’s lonely.”

They had come to Aya for more than this celebration, she’d come to say goodbye to Jaal as he and Avale were uniting their families and starting a life together. Just a few months prior Drack had left as well to be with Kesh and her second clutch of baby Krogan. Peebee had one foot out the door, Ryder could feel everyday she was itching for more than what the Tempest was doing. She knew that their time together wasn’t forever, but watching her family drift apart little by little was harder than she expected. 

Evfra was silent as she slumped down in her seat, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Let me crash at the resistance.” She grumbled.

“That isn’t something I can do.” He took hold of her arm again, and she allowed herself to be tugged out of the chair, though she misjudged the distance from her seat to the ground and landed directly into his chest with a soft  ‘oomf.’

His hand settled on the back of her neck, the other holding her arm ran down to cup her hip. She looked up at him, breath caught in the back of her throat. She was pressed tightly to his chest, breast molding to the hard plains of his, nipples stiffening as she felt a knot of arousal bubbling in her stomach. 

Gasping she watched his nose wiggle, eyes slitting as he bent his head. “You’re…”

She doesn’t think about it, in the future she’ll blame the alcohol running through her system, and the mix of Evfra’s heady scent, but she lunges, cutting off his words, smashing her mouth against his in a teeth clicking kiss that is more pain then pleasure. 

Evfra hisses, hand on her neck tangles with her hair, pulling her head back. Her lip is busted and bleeding, eyes glazed. Ryder sucked in a breath, her last bit of dignity began to shrivel as her hazy mind grasped at the lingering sanity pointing out she just kissed Evfra De Tershaav and likely ruined any type of friendship they have built over the past 4 years. 

“Evfra,” She twisted in his hold, hands pushing on his chest. “I’m-“

Her wobbly tone cut off as he bend his head, brushing his mouth against her nose, down her cheek, and ghosted over her lips. “You are too impatient, Ryder.” His husky tone sent a thrill down her spine that settled in her stomach. 

She tilted her head back trying to catch his mouth. She mewled softly when he pulled away.

“Not here.” He tugged her into his side tucking her against him, chuffing softly.

He doesn’t seem to mind her wandering hands this time. In fact she can hear the faintest sound of a purr thrumming deep in his chest. She almost calls him a pussy she’s willing to stroke when he suddenly tugs her off the main road and presses her up against the wall. 

Massive hands span over her hips as he dips his head towards hers. Letting out a sigh as their lips touch, he takes control keeping her head tilted with a fist in her fiery hair. He laps at the seam of her lips, but doesn’t go deeper despite her wiggling and whimpers of protest. 

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me.” She gasp fingers curling around the straps laying against his chest. Her body’s pressed against his, hips grinding into his front. She makes needy keens in the back of her throat.

“Are you always this impatient Ryder?” He chuckles against her skin, lips igniting a fire beneath them.

“Call me Abigail, Evfra.” She panted against his mouth. She hadn’t the will power to extract herself from those delectable lips. Oh how she pictured kissing him! The reality blew all those lusty fantasies away. She made a wanton noise in the back of her throat as he nibbled her bottom lip. 

“Ahbee-gal” He purrs against her ear. The reverberating sound of his voice sends twings of pleasure down her spine, settling at her contracting core. He inhales deeply, chuckling at her reaction. “I’m going to ravish you.”

“Oh god yes!” She mewls  digging her fingers into his rofjinn, tugging to bring him back to her. 

He laughs, a deep throat thrum that she’s never heard before. If she had been more clear headed and less horny she would try desprately to remember the sound. Though that isn’t what is keeping her focus at the moment while ehr hands trail southward. Not that they get very far when the wall behind her suddenly disappears. 

Letting out a small wail, she nearly tumbles down to her ass if Evfra hadn’t snatched her waist. 

“Rude!” She huffed, craning her neck back to stare at the room behind her. Not that she can see much through the dim interior lighting. What she can see is a spare room filled with only the essentials. 

Of course her mind isn’t on the surrounding area long when a hot mouth presses to her shoulder sucking the the flesh there. 

“Clothing off.” She mewls hands tugging at his shirt trying to magic it off him with each tug. Why did angara clothing have so many buckles! Ryder begins to pout at the sight, muttering dark words about forbidden treasures being locked away. 

Chuffing in amusement he gently extracts her hands. “Let me.” His fingers make dizzly fast work of all the buckles and clasps. 

Hands free she starts work on her own clothing, while following Evfra as he tugs off his Rofjinn. Of course wanting to be naked soon as possible she attempts to take the shirt off without properly unbuttoning it first. 

Ryder stumbled into the bedroom door, her arms caught up in the sleeves as she tried to rip off the blouse she wore. She could hear Evfra huffing at her. Grinning she shimmied out of her shirt and tossed it onto the floor and wiggled a brow at him. 

“I would say your seduction talents needs some work.” He stated dryly folding the rofjinn and setting it aside. 

Licking her bottom lip she greedily drank in the sight of him shirtless, taking in his broad chest to his tampered waist. She especially appreciated the hard muscles that moved beneath his deep blue skin. Letting out a groan she moved toward him, hands out stretched to touch his skin. 

Catching her small hand by the wrist, Evfra let out a soft chuffing sound. “What happed to undressing?” He lifted her wrist and kissed the racing pulse beating beneath the skin. 

“I got caught up wanting to touch this perfection.” She whispered, swallowing back the saliva that built in her mouth. 

“Mmm.” He nips her skin before letting her go. “Are all humans so easily distracted or is it just you?” 

She let out an indignant huff. “Oh no it’s just me when there’s a particularly inviting male….” She steps closer, hands on his stomach stroking up and down grinning as his muscles contracted at the touch. “Needing to be stroked.”

He had scars across his skin, faded blue colors, almost white. She couldn’t resist leaning in and licking the one across his ribs. He let out a shuddering purr and yanked her into his chest. 

“Abigail.” Her name is a deep groan that leaves his mouth. 

And then he was kissing her again. Tongue sliding against her own, tangling together as his palmed her heavy breast. The skin of his palm sends electrical current through her breast, making her nipples stiffen and pleasure rock down to the clenching of her core.

Abigail moans against his mouth, enjoying the feeling of his touch too much to even notice when it became skin to skin contact. Until he breaks their kiss to pull away the tattered remains of her bra off her body. 

“Did you just he-man my bra off?” She spread her fingers against his chest, using his imposing unmoving form to steady herself. She thinks the alcohol has hit her system. She feels all warm and tingling. There’s a heat that starts in her stomach and pulses down. 

“I am unsure of your word,” He presses his mouth to her throat sucking on the skin there. “But yes, I did just rip that flimsy fabric.” He licked at the hollow of her throat, paying special attention to her jumping pulse. “I will buy you another, better, one.” 

“Mmm.” She tilted her head back, fuzzy brain can’t really focus on his words only on the sensation of his mouth making a path up her throat to her jaw, then his breath ghosted against her ear.

“Hold onto me.” He lifted her hands to his shoulders. And before her bogged mind could grasp his order he hefted her up, with one arm, wrapped around her ass. 

Squealing she hooked her thighs around those slim hips, pressing her heated core against his side. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation of his hip brushing against the wet crux between her thighs. 

Silencing her soft mewling noises he dropped her to the bed suddenly making a shriek leave her lips as she bounced against the mattress. Propping herself up on her elbows Abigail huffed at him, glaring up at his smirk. “Evf-”

Suddenly bending he grabbed the legs of her pants and yanked. Dragging them off her hips, along with her underwear. Which was left dangling of her ankle as he tossed her pants aside. They were less than flattering being the initiative issued clothing. A bland cotton cloth that  as Liam described  it, were ‘whitie tighties.’ 

If she had known the night would have gone differently she would have gotten her her red thong-

These thoughts abruptly disintegrated as Evfra lifts her ankle, looping a finger through one of the leg holes and holds the pair of plain undies up.

He drank in her scent with huffing breathes, large hands gripping the thin strip of clothing covering her soaked core. He growled as she let out a soft noise of disapproval. 

With a fangy smirk he lifted the soaked cloth to his nose. “Sweeter than pairpo.” Evfra purred, licking the panties then dropping them to finish ridding himself of his own pants. 

Abigail's eyes were glued to the movements, watching the fabric slide down his hips, lower and lower until Evfra was completely revealed to her. 

Lips parted in surprise, she stared at his cock. It was a darker blue and violet color, speckled with white across the underside of the shaft. He was thick and similar to a human male: if you didn’t count the fluttering ridges, the tapered head and bulbous base. The thing that shocked her and had her inching up the bed was that is was writhing against his stomach as if it had a mind of its own. 

Abigail didn't get to study him much before he grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed. 

Kissing each ankle Evfra placed the on his elbow, spreading her wide open for him like a flower blooming in spring. His eyes glued to her flushed skin. Pupils dilated, lips curled upward, he made a low snarling sound. 

Abigail flushed shifted against the bed feeling utterly vulnerable being spread before him like a feast. Which is how he was looking at her. She could even see him drag his tongue across his lower lip. 

“I must look alien to you.” She whispered self-conscious of her nudity. She curled an arm over her breast and sucked on her bottom lip. 

“You are….” He swallowed audibly, drawing his gaze from her pink cunt to her eyes. “Beautiful.” He purred, kneeling between her thighs. “I have never seen anything close to you.” 

“I’ve been curious,” his tone has taken a raspier note. The ‘r’s of his words dragged out in a sound that makes her shiver.  Warm hands drag along her thighs. Her muscles quiver in anticipation as he settled between her parted legs and inhales. 

Mewling she arches into him, head tossing back and forth in frustration. She wants him to touch her-why wasn’t he touching her. 

“Your kinds coupling is violent,” He strokes a hand down her skin. Petting her with the lightest touches on her stomach, hips, arms. But no where she WANTS him to touch. 

There is a tiny thought that wonders at what he’s seen to make such a judgement but it’s swept away in the tidal wave of arousal beneath his gentle touches. 

“Please!” Ryder keens softly her own hands trail up her body cupping the gentle slopes of her breast. 

He watches her but does nothing to end her torment as he speaks with slow decisive touch’s over her skin. “Your softer than any Angara I’ve been with.” As if to emphasize this point he groped the fat of her hips. She sighs as the touch, undulating beneath him. “I will not take you as your people do.” He bends tongue drags across the divot of her hip bone up the planes of her stomach. 

“Don’t care!” She cries out pinching her nipple watching him taste her skin with small licks traveling up her body. Everything throbs at the sight. She can feel herself spasm with need, a yearning to feel him slip between her thighs, to fill her to the edge of pain. To fuck her into this mattress till she can no longer move. 

“Evfra!”

He smirks leaning over her. “Responsive.” He stops her hands gathering both wrist. “Much better then the vids.” He murmurs softly against the swell of her breast. She’s holding her breath, nearly vibrating with wanton need.

A small thought bubbles in the back of her mind, that she’s edging the point of no return. That this was going to be a bad idea that spirals into a pit of despair if she didn’t stop. But that little bubble popped the moment his tongue sweeps out against her pert nipple. 

Crying out she arches into him, hands twist in the hold that has them. “Sensitive.” He growled lapping at the pink nub, circling it with the tip of his blunt tongue. Her toes curl at the feeling, his tongue had a texture to them and seemed to vibrate against the peak of her breast. 

He nibbled down the slope of her puffy breast, switching to lavish the other with attention. 

“I like how soft you are.” He growls squeezing and molding the breast to the palm of his hand. “How incredibly soft.” His mouth seals of the taunt peak, making her arch up into the sucking of his hot mouth.

He’s making a wet slurping sound while he suckles the peak of her nipple. His hand spanning her ribs moves down her side, cupping her rear that is pressed against his clavicle bone, which she’s been rutting unconsciously again.

She let out a moan as his finger slid along her cunt. He let out a rumble, seemingly surprised at how wet she was. Abandoning her breast with gentle kisses he travels down her stomach. Stopping to lavish attention to each of her small scars, freckles, and stretch marks. He grins at her as he nibbles her hip bone.

“Your scent is driving me wild.” He noses her red curls purring when she jerks against his hold. “It always drives me wild.” He lets out huffs parting her lips and stares at the pink clutch dripping with arousal. “I have longed to taste.”

“E-evfra.” Abigail wiggles in his hold, mind hazy with arousal. She mewls, trembling in anticipation. He seems to be taking his time savoring her scent that has her flushing with embarrassment. That doesn’t last long when he opens his mouth and licks along her slit with a decisive stroke. 

She mewls softly, hips jerking against his mouth. His spans a hand against her stomach, keeping her in place while his tongue makes feather soft touches across her cunt. It was light and gentle touches that were driving her wildly mad.

Thighs kept spread with his shoulders, he had full control of her body. She let out a deep cry, body shuddering. “Evfra!” She grabs his sheets jerking up into his mouth, trying to grind into him. 

He lets out a purr, vibrating that tongue against her clit that sends her spiralling down. Eyes rolling back as a slow building orgasm trickles into her system. Every muscle in her body quivers beneath the slow lazy licks of his tongue. Gasping, her knees fall open, hips ground up into his mouth. Rocking in time with his broad strokes. 

“Evfra, Evfra evfra.” She chants feeling the burn of overstimulation but she can’t stop rocking into him, can’t stop the second orgasm building as he audibly gulps at her cream. She lets out a sharp yelp when he presses a thick, blunt, finger into her weeping entrance. 

“Look at how you grasp me.” He purrs. “Greedy.” He sinks his finger deeper into her swollen, pink, clutch. Cooing at the way she grips his digit. Like a hungry mouth suckling him back in. 

Moaning, her head tossed side to side as he filled her up, opening her wide with slick wet noises as he moved his finger inside of her. It had been a long dry season since she last been with a man. At the moment she couldn’t even remember it, only what Evfra was doing to her body as he shifted pulling her hips higher. 

Nibbling her outer lip he thrust his finger deeper, both groaning as he did. “So soft.” He rasped. “How can any male leave this body.” His eyes met hers. “I’m going to make you sing for me.” 

Singing wasn’t what she felt her throat was doing. Opera more like it as she shrieked at the powerful orgasm that made her body arch and clench. She practically bowed off the bed while her vision went dark. All the while she could feel him still working his finger deeper into her cunt while loudly licking up the cum dripping out of her. 

“Stars.” He rasped  looking at her flushed body and shaking limbs. 

Abigail certainly felt like she saw stars as she went limp against the mattress. Her body jerked against him as he withdrew his finger. Drowsiness edged into her consciousness as she stretched languid. 

Of course two orgasms later and Evfra was nowhere near done with her. He chuckled as he kissed up her body, saying hello to the girls before he was fully looming over Ryder. 

“I hope you aren’t about to fall asleep.” He nudged his nose against her chin, urging her thighs to wrap around his waist. 

“Mmm.” Ryder cracked an eye open suddenly far more awake as something rolled against her sensitive lips. Breath hitched when he nudged her entrance with the head of his cock. 

“Oh!” SHe gasped as the odd sensation of being filled by something that wasn’t entirely human. 

Thighs quivering against his hips, she attempted to roll away from the burrowing entity that was Evfra’s cock, only to feel the first set of ridges slip into her and go completely still. She was instantly melting into a puddle of pleasure as they rowed against the walls of her. Especially tickling her g-spot. Making her clench around him with a groan. 

Scar wrinkled he closed his eyes holding her hips, soft a mewling noise left his throat. “Stars.” He looked down at her then, eyes slitted. “The way you grip me…” He rubbed the mark he left on her skin, breathing hard. 

Drool was dribbling out of her mouth while she gazed up at Evfra, hips rolling against the thick cock. Toes curling, heels digging into his back to spur him on. But Evfra seemed determined to drive her mad. He moved in a slow pace, until he was completely sheathed within her warmth. 

“Tight.” He growled against her skin, he was making many marks against her collarbone, sinking his fangs into the yielding skin. Ryders own nails were clawing at his back as she felt the bulbous base popping into her cunt. 

“Evfra!” She cried so sweetly, tears leaking out of her eyes as he began to pull out of her at the same slow pace. He could feel her climax as he pushed in, feeling the way her walls clenched and pulsed, beckoning him to seed her. 

How he thought of her swollen with his child, like the human he saw before. His lips peeled back in the though as he pulled her hips flush against his, sinking into her depths. A hand span up between the valley of her bouncing breast and lay over her vunerable throat. 

She gasped, tilting her head back giving his hand more room as he cupped her throat, thumb stroking over her racing pulse. She murmured how she couldn’t give him another one. But she would-oh she would cum again on his cock, and he would fill her womb with his seed. And once she was limp beneath him he would slide down her body to taste their coupling, coax yet another orgasm from her. 

Maybe then he would let her rest, but he would spend the night between her thighs.

“You’re a treasure.” He bent over her, hips gliding along her thighs, sticking to the steady pace. Those ridges rubbed against her walls. He can feel the tells of his own climax coming as the ridges began to row, seeking to interlock with a female angara’s grooves. They would become thicker as he climaxed, ensure that none of his seed escaped. 

He watched as Abigail’s green eyes widen at the feeling, her wet lips parting with a soft ‘Oh!’ as a shudder rocks her body. She orgam’s against him, he can feel her soak him as a wordless cry escapes her. He growls bending down to capture her lips, sinking deep into her cunt as spurts of his seed coat her womb.

-----Present-----

She chewed on her nail, biting into the skin but not breaking it. 

How did one tell the grumpy resistance leader that his one night stand led to a new life? 

She hadn’t even seen Evfra since then. Much less spoke to him. Her hands threaded together behind her head as she let out a low sigh staring at the screen of the empty email. Twice she started typing, both started with an apology neither made past the second sentence. She wanted to be a coward, send him an email, throw the proverbial ball at him and wait. 

Turning in her chair she pulled out the glossy black and white photo. Though it was hard to discern what exactly the picture was, she could make out the small pea like blobs in the photo as her children. 

Multiple...

She shuddered, a sour taste filled her mouth, her stomach rolled. Taking gulping breathes she warded off the nausea. Apparently the Doctor, Y’lusia, Sara remembered her name after leaving, said she was in 10  weeks along. Funny considering she’d slept with Evfra 3 weeks ago. But Ryder hadn’t said a word, just numbly taken the photo. 

Y’lusia informed her that she would be sending the file over to Lexi, who was her main doctor, but thought it best for her to set up another appointment at the clinic to see a specialist. She wouldn’t be returning to that clinic, Ryder thinks with a bitter expression. 

It was a shame Lexi was attending the Nexus seminars at the moment, and Harry was acting at the Tempest replacement. 

Gave her plenty of time to avoid, ignore, this predicament a little longer.

::Ryder, Director Tann wishes to speak with you.:: SAM popped up at his router, to the left of her elbow. She let out a low noise of discomfort thinking about talking to him.

“Any way I can put him off?” She leaned back into the chair, putting the ultrasound photo into a draw where it was to be forgotten for a time. ::I can tell him you are occupied with personal matters.:: SAM offered. 

“Uuuugh no,” She stood and pulled her hair back into a bun. “It will only make matters worse.” She stood and looked at the Orb. “How do I look?” ::Like Abigail Ryder.::

She snorted softly. “Remind me to have Jaal teach you some sauve lessons SAM.’ She took a few breaths shaking her hands out. “Maybe I should change.” She glanced down at her sweat stained sleepshirt. She hadn’t bothered dressing, as there was no one needing her attention. They’d just gone to Eos, dropping Peebee off. 

It had been a sad, and regretfully sober, party for Ryder. While Peebee bounced around the remaining tempest crew wishing them good tidings, Abigail had been preoccupied with thoughts of what her future was now going to look like. 

Groaning she tugged her shirt off and ambled over to her messy wardrobe. She shifts and sniffs each article till she finds a decent one and tugs it on. It's here she glances at the mirror and frowns as the material stretches thin across her abdomen. A hand settles across the swelling between her hips. 

Letting out a slow sigh she turns away from the mirror quickly and heads to the door. 

She is lucky that she can play it all off on the removal of the blockers for the time being.  

“Ryder,” Tann’s eyes blinked one just slower than the other. Abigail tilted her head to the side, was it old age? Perhaps he was having a silent seizure. She almost wanted to call a doctor just to end this meeting.

“Tann.” She says his name in a slow draw, blinking her eyes one just slower than the other. 

“I see you have gone into the clinic, I will be setting up a meeting for you on Nexus, we’ll get this ball rolling. Addison will be in touch shortly, she’s eager to begin this campaign. The colonist need something to look towards.” His babbling seemed to cause the spiking ache behind her eyes. One that had her stomach turning. “Mmm.” Ryder replied, rubbing her temple. “I’ll be stopping at Aya first.” She had to speak with baby-babies-daddy about something. 

Like the very impeding existence of being a baby daddy.

“That’s perfect! I’ll send the reporters there,” Her stomach drops as she tries to speak but Tann prattles on regardless of her protest.  “Good scenery, the angara are good place to start. Being all about family as they are. It will be a good start, very good Ryder,” She wonders if good was the only vocabulary he knew when he waves his hand in a wide arch.  “I will let Addison know. Tann out.” 

Then he was gone, and she was left there, feeling bamboozled. 

How did my life become this?

She sucked in a sharp breath a gurgle logged in the back of her throat and she stumbled away from the vid coms racing to the crosswalk where she jumped down and shoved Liam out of the way. 

“Hey!” He hollered. “I have to piss.” 

Ryder didn’t answer as she bent over the sink and vomited.

“Never mind.” He backed out of the bathroom and turned away.

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

If you Enjoyed this please leave me a like or comment! 

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Today in Tolkien - March 2nd

The beginning of the full-scale war between Saruman and his neighbours. (It ends two days later, because Saruman is a poseur.)

Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli come to Meduseld and free Théoden from the deceptions of Saruman; the Rohirrim led by Théoden ride out to reinforce their western front.

The beginning of the Second Battle of the Fords of Isen

Entmoot ends and the Ents, with Merry and Pippin, march on Isengard

I’m very pleased that this project got me to read “The Battles of the Fords of Isen” in Unfinished Tales, because it gives me a far better appreciation of how barely-in-time the Fellowship is. One additional day of delay and Saruman’s forces could have overrun Rohan and already been near to Edoras on the 3rd; it could have fallen, Gondor wouldn’t have had their arrival to break the siege of Minas Tirith, and even if Frodo had still succeeded in destroying the Ring, both Rohan and Gondor could have been ruined.

Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, who have ridden though much of the night (Gandalf is, rightly, in a hurry), arrive at Edoras in the morning. They meet a cold welcome from Théoden and Wormtongue, but Gandalf, using small amounts of magic for dramatic effect but relying mainly on good advuice, gets through to Théoden and breaks Wormtongue’s power over the king. Wormtongue is exposed as a traitor and spy and dismissed (refusing the offer to ride to battle at Théoden’s side), and rides for Isengard. Eómer is released from prison. Over a thousand Rohirrim ride out from Edoras in the early afternoon, leaving Eówyn in charge of leading the civilians who remain to the Hold of Dunharrow (in the mountains a little above Edoras). They ride west for five hours, all afternoon and into the night, but by the time they make camp for the night have still covered less than half the dustance between Edoras and the Fords of Isen. For them, the night passes uneventfully; but at the Fords of Isen, the war for Rohan begins.

At the Fords of Isen, at the start of this day, most of Grimbold’s infantry are on the western side of the fords in the earth-forts that guard the crossing; Grimbold and the remnants of Théodred’s cavalry are on the east side. Elfhelm, who regards the Fords as unimportant because Saruman can send forces down either side of the river, has his cavalry stationed further east where they can charge the flank of any enemy army coming down the east bank and drive them into the river before they reach the Fords.

Before noon, a strong force of Saruman’s best troops (but only a small part of his entire army) attack the west bank of the Fords. The outnumbered defenders resist strongly, but when a group of Uruks get past them and begin crossing the Fords, Grimbold crosses from the east bank and pushes them back for a time. However, Saruman’s commander there throws in more troops, and Grimbold and all his forces are pushed back across the Isen around sunset, still holding the east bank (which has a steep slope up from the river, making it hard for Saruman’s forces to attack across the Fords).

Near midnight a large army of Saruman’s (but still less than half of his entire forces) comes down the west bank and takes the Fords and the east bank, surrounding Grimbold’s forces, who make a shieldwall around their camp. Grimbold realizes that the greatest value his forces can provide is to send all the men who can break out of the encirclement to reinforce Helm’s Deep. He therefore opens the shieldwall and sends what cavalry he has east under the command of Dúnhere (nephew of Erkenbrand); they successfully break out and, due to the darkness, are able to escape, as well as to cover Grimbold’s retreat via a swift sortie that confuses the enemy. Grimbold’s men are scattered but survive, going south of the road, while Saruman’s forces take the southward road to Helm’s Deep.

The majority of Saruman’s forces, meanwhile, go down the east shore of Isen, moving slower than the western force due to rougher terrain; and they are preceded by wolfriders. The wolfriders attack Elfhelm (who is stationed some ways east of the Isen intending to charge any attacking army and drive them east against the river) at night and by surprise, scattering his forces. Elfhelm gathers what he can of his men and retreats eastward.

Erkenbrand (I’m not at all clear which army he is with, but he’s the overall commander of the forces at the Fords of Isen and Helm’s Deep) draws off what men he can towards Helm’s Deep, but they do not reach the stronghold.

Now we move to the Ents, Merry, and Pippin. The Entmoot continues through much of the day, though they are close to deciding; at sunrise the ent-voices “rise to a great clamour and then die down again.” In the afternoon, the whole forest goes silent. Then, “with a crash came a great ringing shout: ra-hoom-rah!” and the song of the Ents begins as they start their march for Isengard in late afternoon. [Clamiavi de Profundus do a phenomenal rendition of the song (Though Isengard be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare as bone / We go, we go, we go to war, to hew the stone and break the door!)]

Treebeard mentions that the Ents of Fangorn have not gotten roused like this since “the Wars of Sauron and the Men of the Sea” (I have no idea whether he means the Númenoreans reinforcing Gil-galad during the War of the Elves and Sauron, or if he means the war between Ar-Pharazon and Sauron, or if he means the Last Alliance, but either way I’m curious to know more.)

The Ents have left Fangorn by dusk, and the Huorns are following them: “Where the dim bare slopes that they had crossed should lie, [Pippin] thought he saw groves of trees. Could it be that the trees of Fangorn were awake, and the forest was rising, marching over the hills to war?”

Not long after midnight, the Ents have come to Isengard. They see a great army march off, as Saruman empties Isengard of all his forces, sending them south against Rohan; Merry estimates their number as at least ten thousand. This is Saruman’s second army, that goes down the east shore of the Isen to attack Elfhelm. Some Huorns begin to move south in pursuit of the orc-army, while the remainder encircle Isengard.

The Ents attack Isengard in the night, right after the army has marched off. They destroy the gates of Isengard in about five minutes, and then destroy a large part of the south wall Saruman, who was at the gate to watch his army march out, only narrowly manages to escape Quickbeam and get back insude Orthanc. He sets some machinery working that causes flame to come out of vents and shafts in Isengard, and some of the Ents are badly burned, but that only makes the remaining Ents much angrier, and they spend the remainder of the night flattening Isengard.

So, on the night of the 2nd-3rd, both sides of the war suffer a major defeat - the Rohirrim at the Fords of Isen, and Saruman because all his base are belong to Ents.

Meanwhile, Frodo, Sam, and Gollum have finished their journey through the Dead Marshes and reached a desolate desert plain.

When day came at last the hobbits were surprised to see how much closer the ominous mountains had already drawn. The air was now clearer and colder, and though still far off, the walls of Mordor were no longer a cloudy menace on the edge of sight, but as grim black towers they frowned across a dismal waste. The marshes were at an end, dying away into dead peats and wide flats of dry cracked mud. The land ahead rose in long shallow slopes, barren and pitiless, towards the desert that lay at Sauron’s gate.

While the grey light lasted, they cowered under a black stone like works, shrinking, lest the winged terror should pass and spy them with its cruel eyes.

[mca-attack21]

Words Unsaid

AN: This is loosely based off of The Final Problem and is Sherlock x Reader. There is violence and death, so consider yourself warned. I hope you enjoy and as always feedback is appreciated. 

Emotional Context. Sherlock had once been able to deny its importance, instead, governing himself with logic and reasoning. However, his connections with his friends and the people who cared about him had started to change his mind on such matters. This came with both benefits and negatives as it had opened him up to new vulnerabilities and pain, especially now. As it was during this time that he discovered that his sister was more than just a suspicion. In fact, Eurus was a secret that scared his dear brother Mycroft more than anything else. 

Sherlock struggled to retrieve any memory of her. That was at least until the name “Redbeard” was brought up. He had loved Redbeard his faithful dog and childhood best friend. He couldn’t remember what had happened to him, at least not until Mycroft filled in the gaps. Since that discovery, he, his brother, and John had left to check in on Eurus’ security. Sherlock and John wanted to prove that she had left multiple times once impersonating as a girl that Sherlock met during a case, and once as John’s new therapist. Mycroft was insistent that this was impossible, so they went to settle the matter once and for all. What they were not expecting was for it all the be a trap.

They were soon captured and forced to complete trials that tested personal morality and will power all centered around Sherlock. It seems that Eurus was fascinated by her brother and wanted to better understand him. It didn’t help that she had previously formed an alliance with Moriarty and knew more about Sherlock than he did her. But that was all Mycroft’s fault now wasn’t it? The first challenge forced Sherlock to choose either John or Mycroft to shoot an innocent man in order to save his wife. Both inevitably refused and the man in a last-ditch effort took his own life in front of them. Eurus didn’t hesitate to kill the wife, questioning the three whether or not keeping their hands clean costing two lives was any better than taking one life and leaving one to survive. She then ordered Sherlock to collect the gun, which now only had one bullet, and continue.

The next trial was equally grim. Sherlock was forced to deduce which of three brothers was a murderer provided only the gun and three pictures. To add to the suspense, she presented the three brothers hanging over the ocean tied up with weights. If they dropped they would inescapably be drowned. Sherlock made the correct deduction much to everyone’s relief, but Eurus dropped all three explaining that the life of an innocent weighs no less than the life of the guilty.

The third trial was where it got personal. There was a small wooden coffin. It was nothing special about it. Sherlock quickly deduced that it was built for a woman, one with no close family, one who was sensible, one that- he was interrupted when Mycroft brought over the lid which had a mere two words on it, “Words unsaid”. 

“Whatever does that mean?” John asked.

But deep down Sherlock knew and he feared what was about to happen next.

“It’s Y/n,” he replied.

“Y/n? What does she have to do with this?”

“Why quite a lot Mr. Watson, and very good Sherlock. Now then, this ought to be fun. In a moment, I am going to give her a ring. She’s alone in her apartment which is hooked up with explosions. Now then brother, you will have two minutes to get her to say the magic words. The catch? You can’t say them yourself, you can’t give her any indication that you or she is in danger. Just play your mind games like you used to,” Eurus grinned.

“What are the magic words?” Mycroft asked.

Sherlock’s face fell into a pained expression as he considered the task at hand.

“He has to get her to tell him that she loves him,” John realized.

“Yay! Now that everyone is on the same page, let’s give her a ring.” Eurus cheered, “Oh and for added fun,” she clicked on the tv showing video of you in your flat.

Sherlock studied the video feed, you looked horrible, something had clearly upset you. He could tell that you had recently been crying. As the phone rang he prayed that you would answer it. The clock seemed to loom over him as it continued to click down. He watched as you slowly retrieved yours and glanced down at the name answering it almost immediately.

1:40

“Sherlock?”

“Ah, Y/n, I-” he started.

“I ought to kill you for giving me such a scare. Baker street exploded it’s all over the news and I’ve been trying to get ahold of you ever since. Are you okay? Is John okay? What happened?”

“We’re fine, just a little accident,” Sherlock replied calmly.

“I thought you were dead, the least you could have done was sent me a text” she whimpered.

“Oh come on now, you know I’m more clever than that, besides I’ve been busy, you know how it is” he mused.

1:20

“Y/n, do you remember the phone call we had just before Reichenbach, right as Moriarty had begun his master plan?” he asked feeling rushed.

“Of course I do, I still have nightmares from that call,”

“Well, I need you to tell me what you said that day,”

“There’s no way in hell,” you replied. Sherlock was able to see how much this upset you and clenched his eyes shut feeling the pressure.

“Please Y/n, I really need to hear it,” he begged softly.

0:60

“Sherlock, is everything alright?” you asked concerned at his unprecedented demeanor.

Eurus warned her brother to remember the rules. 

“Everything is fine, I just need to hear you say it,”

“Why? This better not be one of your experiments,”

“It’s not, I promise. I wouldn’t do that, not to you,”

“I don’t get the big deal,” 

“Please Y/n,” 

0:30

“I-I can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t say it back,”

0:25

“If you meant it then, if there is any chance that you mean it now, please say it again,” he begged.

“Sherlock,” you pleaded

“Please Y/n, please tell me what you said that day on the phone, our last call together before the fall,” he said with such sincerity and emotion.

0:18

“You called me to tell me that everything had been a lie, that Moriarty was right. You told me that  you only had one choice left. I begged you to stop, to wait until I could get to you, that together the two of us would figure something out. But you said it was too late,” you recalled tears streaming down your face.

“And then…” he prompted.

0:12

“And then I pleaded with you not to do it,”

“Why? What was your reason?”

0:08

You hesitated for a moment, “ because I cared about you,”

“That’s not what you said Y/n, what exact words did you say?” His own eyes were betraying him at this point.

0:03

“I told you that I loved you, that fake or not, I would still love you” you cried, “And you didn’t say it back.”

Just then the phone clicked off as Eurus ended the call. 

Sherlock redirected his attention to Eurus’ screen, “Okay Eurus, I won. I made her say it. What now, what happens next?”

“Funny isn’t it? I don’t recall her actually saying the words ‘I love you’. She said ‘I loved you’ and ‘I would still love you’ and while close, I just don’t think that cuts it for me.” 

“Wait!” Sherlock screamed launching forward as Eurus hit a button and he was forced to watch your apartment explode. All that Mycroft could manage was staring in shock as the tv quickly cut to black. John went to his friend who had sunk to the ground staring vacantly.

“You didn’t tell her before Reichenbach and now you’ll never be able to, tell me Sherlock, are all those complicated little emotions worth it? Because to me it seems that the emotional context is what destroys you. Now pull yourself together as the next challenge is even more enduring.”

She paused for a moment before adding, “take your time,” and shutting off her screen. 

Sherlock rose to his feet and John and Mycroft hesitantly went towards the next door, turning back when they heard him whisper “no” before aggressively attacking the empty coffin taking out his rage and immediate grief. After annihilating it, he sat back against the wall. 

Regretting that he could not properly console his friend, John forced himself over to Sherlock handing him the gun saying, “I know this is beyond difficult and you are being tortured, but you have to keep it together, we have to keep moving”

“This isn’t torture, it’s vivisection, we are experience science from the perspective of lab rats,”

“Right now, we are soldiers who just need to survive, this is not the time nor place for mourning,” John said firmly.

“Alright,” Sherlock agreed and John helped him up.

The three men continued to the next room where Sherlock was tasked with choosing whether to kill John or Mycroft. He made his decision, Eurus’ game was over, and he pointed the gun under his own chin taking a calculated risk.

When he awoke, he was alone in a small cell plastered with pictures from his childhood. He quickly called out for John and Mycroft. John answered explaining that he was in a well, but otherwise seemingly fine. There was no response from Mycroft.

Sherlock quickly figured out that he was not actually in a cell but rather in a collapsable structure outside his childhood home. Eurus tasked him with discovering the location of Redbeard and upped the stakes as she started filling the well that John was chained to the bottom of. Sherlock racked his brain trying to solve the same problem who’s solution had evaded him as a child. That was at least until in an escape attempt, John solved an important piece of the puzzle.

Redbeard was never a dog.

Sherlock suddenly remembered his childhood best friend Victor Trevor who his brain had so cleverly disguised to help preserve his psyche. With this new information, Sherlock was able to figure out the Eurus’ song corresponded to the gravestones with the weird dates. He quickly deciphered the message and went to free John who was running out of time.

Outside of the well, he discovered his sister, “I’m so sorry Eurus,” he spoke sincerely.

“You needed me and I abandoned you, I could have saved you,” he added.

“I just wanted my brother,” she replied childishly.

“I’m here now, and we can fix this, just free John, don’t make the same mistake you made with Victor,” he pleaded.

“I don’t want to quit playing the game, I don’t want you to leave me again,”

“I’m not going to leave, I’m going to save you,”

Not knowing how to respond she simply stepped back and allowed Sherlock to save his friend. He dove into action turning the water off and then retrieving a key carefully tossing down to John so that he could free his ankles. He searched for a moment to find what Eurus had used to get John down there to begin with and found some rope that he leveraged against a tree and tossed down to his friend. 

It was as John was climbing over the side that the police cars and helicopters arrived. Mycroft’s people were there to collect Eurus, who went with them peacefully. Sherlock and John were both checked over by the EMT’s and given shock blankets. They were informed that Mycroft was safe and simply left back in Sherrinford. Once he regained consciousness, he his people and sent them in helicopters to take care of Eurus. But then? Who called the police?

“William Sherlock Holmes” you yelled slamming the door to Greg’s station car.

John and Sherlock had never turned around so fast in their lives. How were you here? Hadn’t they both watched your apartment go up in smoke? Or, was that merely another one of Eurus’ tricks?

“You’d better have a good explanation for-”

“I love you too,” he interrupted shocking both you and John.

“What?” you asked in disbelief.

“I said I love you too, I wanted to say it during that call two years ago, and I wanted to say it earlier today. I promise I will explain everything, and I understand if you no longer fill the same way, I’m sorry for not saying it before,” he confessed. 

You stared at him in awe, taking a step closer still staring at him. You closed the remaining gap between the two of you and smoothly connected your lips with his allowing them to communicate for you. After an instant of shock, Sherlock reciprocated allowing the blanket to fall off of his shoulders as he pulled you in closer. When he pulled away, both of you were slightly dazed and smiling. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” you whispered.

“That I do,” he answered.

From there, Greg dropped John and Sherlock off at John’s place where he happily greeted Molly and wasted no time collecting Rosie. The next day the three of you would meet up at 221B Baker Street and begin cleaning and repairing that flat as Sherlock did as promised and explained everything. After two weeks the renovations were complete and John and Rosie moved back in with Sherlock who had decided to utilize space in 221C for experiments to keep Rosie away from them both for her safety and his sanity.

You became more than a frequent visitor and eventually moved into one of the bedrooms of 221C however you spent far more time in Sherlock’s bed than in your own. You watched Rosie as the boys went out on cases and would occasionally tag in for John. Being in a relationship with Sherlock was interesting to say the least, but you wouldn’t trade a second of it. 

[inqorporeal]

Future Tense

It was rare, Theron mused, that things were so quiet that they had a moment to relax like this. The cantina was bustling, and all of the advisors and primary staff had been able to justify taking the evening off. Theron got a lot of shit for being a workaholic, and even now he could feel the niggling itch of a puzzle left unsolved. But it could wait. For the moment, there were more important things to worry about.

Sitting in the booth beside him, the Commander cradled their drink between their hands and leaned a little more into Theron's space, seeking permission.

It was a… weird dynamic between them. The Commander was Imperial, Theron was a Republic spy. Feelings should never have developed between them; but what had begun as an uneasy alliance had blossomed into a mutual respect and even admiration. By the time Theron ran into them on their way to rescue him from the Revanites, well….

You couldn't fake that look of relief in a person's eyes. They had stood up for him, defended him, and hadn't agreed with Lana about her willful negligence which had led to Theron's capture. Seven years later and he was still awed that anyone had successfully extracted an apology, however reluctant, from a Sith Lord on his behalf. 

When they'd first begun their association chasing rumours of Revanites, Theron had been worried that the two Imperials might try to extract Republic secrets from him; neither had asked more than he was willing to offer, and even though he'd felt incredibly lonely during that time, he had also felt at ease. Nobody was leaning over his shoulder for once Marcus, nor prying into his downtime activities Jonas, and the people he had to work with had encouraged him to put the datapad down in the evenings to share a drink or two and talk shit about members of the Dark Council. Theron had felt free enough to dump some of his (non-classified) dirt on certain Senators, to the amused delight of his partners in conspiracy-routing.

So when the Commander had asked about Satele, Theron may have spilled a bit of long-held bitterness. It wasn't really fair of him -- Satele wouldn't have wanted to let Darth Marr know Theron might be leverage on her (he would be; her distance in his youth aside, Satele did care). But… he'd been tired. The painkillers had been wearing off. Maintaining a semblance of professional decorum during that meeting had consumed his remaining energy, and his patience had largely taken a leave of absence.

The Commander -- his ally, swiftly sliding into territory that could have tentatively been friendship -- had expressed concern, support, bantered lightly and teased him, drawing his mind away from the pressing issues for a precious moment. When they'd kissed him, it had felt real, like Theron was appreciated and cared for, like they had seen the worst sides of him and found the whole package worth the risk.

They had been risking everything, stealing private moments when and where they could on Yavin IV, surrounded by military detachments from both sides who clearly didn't trust each other. If anyone who had cared had caught them together, Theron would have lost his job and possibly been brought up for an official inquiry; who knew what the Commander had risked. Knowing the Sith, probably interrogation and/or death.

Just for him, Theron, a Jedi washout, an intelligence analyst with no life outside his work and a long list of past relationships that had never survived his career for more than a couple of months. The knowledge had shaken him to his core then, and it still did now: that someone had looked at Theron and found him worth risking death for.

Of course it could have been a ruse, but the looks Lana had been giving them said otherwise. She pretended not to see anything and didn't utter even one word of teasing. If Marr and Satele found out about them, it wouldn't be from her.

Saying goodbye had been unexpectedly painful. In truth, Theron had allowed things to continue because he hadn't believed they would live long enough to see the end of it. So, it seemed, had the Commander. Who needs words? they'd whispered, and kissed him, soft and tender, gloved fingers weaving into his hair and pulling him close. Theron had started to speak, to say how sorry he was, and they'd pressed a fingertip to his lips, with a smile so gentle and sorrowful it damn near broke his heart. Message received: don't apologise for the inevitable.

Theron had spent a year denying that it still ate at him, denying that he thought of them every day, denying that the reason he'd stopped joining Jonas for nights out that ended with casual hook-ups had less to do with working hard to re-prove his loyalty and more to do with the fact that a certain Imperial loyalist had claimed Theron's heart and he didn't want a replacement. Hearing about what had happened to Marr's fleet, though, had blasted that denial right out of the sky. Theron had got back in touch with Lana, asking what happened; maybe she'd actually liked him, or maybe she'd just been in shock, but she gave him straight answers instead of telling him where to get off, and then wrapped it up with, They're not dead, Theron. I can feel them, still. I'll be in touch.

Now he knew why the Commander had been pissed enough to force Lana to apologise to him a year earlier. The thought of the Commander imprisoned somewhere while everyone assumed they were dead nearly destroyed Theron. He'd thrown out all the alcohol in his Coruscant apartment so he wouldn't give into the temptation, and the feeling of time being wasted on the comparative minutiae of his actual job scratched and scraped at the back of his brain. Jonas, perceptive bastard that he is, had noticed; he'd suggested burning off Theron's restlessness with a night out and got snapped at for his trouble.

Theron had -- eventually -- apologised for that, but not before Lana had commed him on the secret, massively encrypted frequency he'd devised. Theron had sent his apology to Jonas taped to the only bottle of booze he'd kept, the unopened bottle of Corellian brandy Jonas had given him to celebrate Theron's most recent promotion.

He had no illusions that he'd effectively sunk his fifteen-year career in the SIS when he'd packed up his essentials and bought a shuttle ticket to Nar Shaddaa under a pseudonym, using credits from one of his other pseudonymic accounts. It wasn't like his work mattered anymore, anyway. In the last few months since Zakuul's Eternal Fleet had come out of nowhere and effectively annexed the Republic, their department heads had played at pretending everything was fine and normal, while all signs pointed to the contrary. According to Lana, the Empire was in much the same state.

Theron had long since grown tired of sitting on his hands instead of actually doing something. He never had dealt with periods of inactivity well.

And now… now he sat in a cantina surrounded by people he by rights should never have become friends with, with his arm openly around the shoulders of a certain ex-Imperial whose faith and loyalty had been well and truly shattered. They'd looked terrible when Theron had first seen them upon his arrival at Odessen: too thin, too exhausted, moving like everything hurt.

It hadn't prevented them from hugging him tightly -- right there in front of everyone -- and murmuring, "You're a sight for sore eyes," the same greeting they had offered on Ziost six years earlier. The feelings were still there, stronger than ever, and Theron had accepted the knowledge that this was his life now. Their lives, now.

The Commander was doing better since Valkorion had taken a cryptic leave of absence; better appetite, less prone to waking up in the middle of the night cursing out someone Theron couldn't throw out of the room, able to focus on work without drifting off to glare at the corner of the room every few minutes. Force only knew how much hassle the creepy Sith ghost had been giving them. It was a relief to Theron, as well -- both of them had been uneasy about the idea of the Sith Emperor watching them in the privacy of their quarters.

"What do you plan to do?" Theron found himself asking. "When this is all over and things go back to normal, I mean," he added when everyone at the table looked at him.

The Commander frowned into their drink. "I'm not sure 'normal' is ever going to happen," they answered. “Too much has changed in the galaxy. Everyone has been forced to adjust and adapt."

Theron gestured to the cheerful crowd beyond the relative privacy of their table. "I mean… the Alliance. Are we all going to have to just… go home?"

The Commander looked thoughtful, then glanced at Lana. "In your professional estimation--"

"Hah," Lana snorted, but she was smiling.

"Shush, you. In your estimation, how many friendships and romantic entanglements have occurred since the Alliance established itself?"

"On Odessen?"

"Everywhere we have operations."

The Sith frowned for a moment. "Hundreds. Thousands."

"Mmhmm, and in your estimation, how many of those would be considered cross-faction?"

Theron could see where this was going but he remained quiet -- his specialty was external intelligence; Lana's was internal.

"Roughly two-thirds, if we're considering smugglers, pirates, and bounty hunters their own faction."

The Commander looked back out at the bar. "Infrastructure is nothing without the people who make it tick, and those little alliances mean something. Say we win. Say we beat Valkorion at his own game. Do you really think people will happily give up everything they've built over the last few years and go back to what we were doing before? No. The defection rate would be tremendous. We're all here because the people we wanted to trust in sat back and did nothing, chose to use the opportunity to enrich themselves politically rather than combining their strength and fighting back." They turned their glass on the table, watching the water ring smear. "I'm not going back. I can't. I can't believe in that anymore. And if there are others who also don't want to go back…? Then we'll figure something out together."

Theron looked over at Lana, who met his eyes and shook her head. She couldn't go back, either. "Then maybe we should start thinking about future organisation," she ventured. "I know you don't want to remain in control forever--"

The Commander scoffed and leaned further into Theron's side. "I'm only the Commander because you pushed for it. Our Zakuul allies want me to sit on the Eternal Throne. I can guess why -- they think I'm Valkorion's next incarnation -- and I don't want that. Zakuul can figure its own shit out. But if we settle anywhere else, either the Republic, the Empire, or both will try to annex us. They already dislike the concept of a third power existing in the galaxy, and let's be real: Odessen isn't as secret as we wish it was. We should already be looking for a backup base; we might as well look for something that can be more permanent. I’m not just giving this up. Not again."

They hesitated, and glanced at Theron, something guilty in their eyes. Before they could apologise for making a choice without talking to him first, Theron pressed his temple against theirs. "Wherever we go, you can count on me to be there too."

[spacebatisluvd]

Summary: Entrapta receives an invitation. 

Content Warning: A neurotypical writer attempting to portray an autistic character (with respect, compassion, and love, but I recognize there’s a chance I’ve fumbled here—just know it’s unintentional), Sea Hawk, Hordak’s poor sense of self-worth, cult-typical abuse, veiled references to masturbation, genital discussion, discussion of sex and sexual relationships.

-

Entrapta looked through the microscope, studying the micro-welds she’d made. Her mouth twisted a little, dissatisfied with the results. She sighed. “Emily, make a note—I need more silver solder. This prototype is a bust.” She tossed it behind her head, hearing it crack against the ground a moment later. One of the little recycling bots would be by to pick it up and take it apart soon enough, making sure nothing went to waste.

She glanced at Emily. “You know, Hordak’s really good with delicate work like this. His hands are so steady, and his welds are so...precise.” She gave a happy little shiver. “I wanted to surprise him with a working prototype, but maybe I should just give him the designs and let him build it. That’s still a surprise, right?”

Emily made a negative-sounding beep. Entrapta winced. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She stood, stretching. “I just need to make a working prototype—it doesn’t have to be pretty, just functional!” She used her hair to perform a tight backflip, shaking out her limbs as her feet came to rest on the ground once more. “Okay! Let’s do this—Emily, play recording.”

Emily made a happy whirring sound, the top half of her chassis spinning. Then Hordak’s recorded message began to play. Entrapta shut her eyes, listening to him describe the far-off stars that were normally too dim to see with Etheria’s many moons. She knew he’d probably assumed she would only listen to it while gazing up at those stars, but she’d found herself listening over and over again, lulled by the sound of his voice, even if she’d long since memorized his words.

She sat down and went back to work, adjusting her initial design into something more workable. When Hordak returned,  they could refine and revise her work. She just needed to provide proof of concept. S he hoped it would work. She thought it would. The data indicated that it should, but she couldn’t exactly test it. Well. Maybe if she asked Kadroh...but would he guess what it was for? She knew Hordak would prefer to keep this—

“What?” she asked, looking up when Emily insistently butted against her. “What is—?“ Then she realized her communicator had been ringing for quite some time now. “Oh! Answer call!”

Scorpia’s face appeared on-screen, accompanied by Perfuma. “Hey!” she said, waving a claw. “I was getting a little worried there. We called twice, and I didn’t want to bother you—“

“I’m not bothered at all! If I was in the middle of something dangerous, Emily wouldn’t have interrupted me.”

“...dangerous?” Perfuma asked, gripping the front on her shirt more tightly.

“Oh, good!” Scorpia said, while Perfuma frowned. “I just wanted to invite you to the flower festival.”

“Flower festival?”

Perfuma stepped forward, smiling a little. “Yes! Plumeria has an annual flower festival during the week of the summer solstice. It celebrates the transition from a time of renewal and recovery to a time of joy and growth!” Entrapta smiled while Perfuma spoke, waiting for her to finish, but she stopped abruptly. The silence lingered.

Entrapta checked the data pad.

“Hold on, I think there’s a lag. Can you repeat the last part? I missed your explanation.”

“Um.” Scorpia and Perfuma looked at each other.

Clearing her throat, Scorpia said, “It’s uh, basically a big party to celebrate summer. There’s flower crowns and food and music. Perfuma says it’s a lot of fun. I was hoping you, um, might want to come too?”

Entrapta’s hair curled and twisted. “Are a lot of people going to be there?”

“Oh, yes.” Perfuma smiled widely. “People come from all over the region for the festivities. We’re hoping all members of the Princess Alliance—“

“And their partners!” Scorpia added.

“—will be able to attend.”

“Oh.” Her hair knit itself into anxious hands, the psuedo-fingers laced together. “I don’t know....” She looked away, thinking of all the people that would be in attendance. Would it be like the Prom or another formal party? Could she skirt the edges and just observe? (Would that be weird?) On the other hand, they’d specifically called to invite her, and this wasn’t like Princess Prom—they didn’t have to include her at all. Despite her concerns about the crowd, it was hard to pass up what seemed like an obvious overture of friendship. “Can I think about it?”

Scorpia blinked. She looked at Perfuma, scratching the back of her neck. “Um. Sure. Take all the time you need! The party’s in a couple weeks, so you’ve got time.” She smiled. “Hopefully, Mermista will let Hordak take some time off, so he can come too.”

Her hair frizzed. “Hordak’s invited?”

Scorpia nodded. Perfuma looked at Scorpia, who returned her gaze, eyes wide. After a beat of silence, Perfuma said, “Y...yes. If you come, he may...join you. As your guest.”

Entrapta couldn’t help but spin in place, her hair coiling under her to lift her high. She hugged herself, humming giddily. As she dropped back down to the ground, her hair formed a  large cushion to catch her. “Really?!”

Scorpia beamed, and Perfuma exhaled slowly, though she too smiled. “Yes. Really,” Perfuma said. She looked to Scorpia, who offered her the Scorpinoid version of a thumbs up.

“Well, that changes things. I don’t think he’s ever been to something like this before. I’d really like to bring him. He hasn’t had a lot of opportunities to engage in leisure activities, and I’m trying to get him to explore and experiment with activities he might find enjoyable. This seems like an ideal opportunity.”

Perfuma looked at Scorpia again, and Scorpia slung an arm over her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Yep. This would be perfect for that, right Perfuma?”

The other princess smiled, exhaling again. “Right. It’s definitely the perfect opportunity for the former—“

“My former boss!” Scorpia interrupted, “Yep! Perfect—perfect opportunity to see if my former boss can, um, relax.” She blinked, and withdrew her claw from Perfuma’s shoulders to press it against her chin. “Actually, that’s a good question. Can he?”

“In very specific circumstances,” Entrapta said.

Perfuma looked between Scorpia and Entrapta before saying, “As long as he behaves himself.”

Entrapta cocked her head. “I don’t really know what you mean by that; Hordak is very well-mannered.”

Scorpia was already reassuring her, though. “Of course he will! I’m sure we won’t even notice he’s there.”

“Oh, you’ll probably notice him. His height makes him stand out,” Entrapta said. “If that’s going to be a problem, I’m not sure how to fix it.”

“No! Nope—Hordak’s height is not a problem,” Scorpia said very quickly, watching Perfuma. “Well, anyway, I, um, I hope to see both of you soon. Bye!” She hung up before Perfuma could say goodbye. Entrapta didn’t mind. As soon as the communicator cut out, she called Hordak.

His image resolved a moment later. “Hello, Star—“

“Entrapta!”

Hordak’s ears folded back, and he glared at the back of Sea Hawk’s head. “Hi!” she told them both, waving. “I just got a call from Scorpia—“

“Ooh. What did she say?” Sea Hawk asked.

“Well...” She rolled the word around, bouncing a little on her toes. “Plumeria’s going to have a flower festival during the solstice, and we’re both invited to come!”

Sea Hawk’s eyes widened. “You are?”

She nodded, bouncing a little more. “Mmmh-hmm. Scorpia really seems to want us to come. And Perfuma too! Well.” Her hair deflated a little. “I think she was excited? It’s hard to tell.” Perfuma always seemed so nice...until she suddenly wasn’t.

The data pad twirled as Sea Hawk ran off with it. “You have to go—both of you. It will be the perfect setting for romance . What are you you wearing? Wait, don’t tell me right now. I’ll call you later, and we can plan. Don’t worry about Hordak’s wardrobe; I’ll make sure he dresses appropriately.”

She cocked her head. “There’s a dress code? Scorpia didn’t mention that.”

“Oh, yes. A dress code—for love!”

The data pad was snatched from his hands, and Hordak’s face appeared, though he was glaring off-screen at Sea Hawk. “That is enough.” He shook his head, ears back, then he faced the data pad. “My apologies, Starlight. I believe he is being overly optimistic as well as overly involved. Reconstruction will not be complete by the solstice, and I do not believe Mermista will give me to leave to attend—with travel, I would be gone for nearly ten days, and I doubt she would approve of that.”

“What makes you say so?”

“I conquered her country and essentially destroyed Salineas.”

“You think she’s still upset about that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

His ears twitched. “I will ask, of course.”

“Okay. I mean...” She looked away, running her fingers through her hair. “It’s all right. Maybe next year?”

“Perhaps.”

Off-screen, Sea Hawk yelled, “No! This is unacceptable! I will not stand by and allow such a travesty.”

Hordak looked at him. “You are being dramatic. This is not—“

“A travesty, I say!” The data pad jerked, then the camera lifted high—from the little she could see, Hordak was holding it overhead to keep it out of Sea Hawk’s reach. “How can you stand by and accept this? Are you not a man?”

“I am a clone, and I do not understand why my gender is important to the conversation.”

Sea Hawk made a wordless sound of mourning. “You aren’t willing to fight for your love?”

“There is nothing to fight! The treaty clearly stipulates I must prioritize the restoration of Etheria above my own personal happiness. Considering the destruction I wrought waging a completely senseless war—considering I brought Prime here, to the very doorstep of this world, I think those terms are more than fair! And considering that you yourself fought in both conflicts, I am stunned you are so determined that I break those terms.”

“It’s just ten days!” Sea Hawk said, “Besides, you haven’t taken a day off since you got here and that cannot be healthy.”

Entrapta blinked. “Hordak, is that true?”

As if abruptly remembering she was still there, he turned the data pad so she could see them again, though he was still scrupulously keeping it out of Sea Hawk’s reach. “Well. Yes. I do not require—“

“Hordak! I know you know that taking breaks is important—the Horde soldiers were allowed time off.”

His ears folded back. “Of course they were—Etherians are not very productive if they aren’t permitted unstructured free time periodically. My Force Captains insisted this was true and research seemed to prove them correct. But I am not Etherian. I do not need—“

“That’s ridiculous!” Sea Hawk said, “Everyone needs to take time off.”

“Clones do not. Even when at rest, we were put into stasis pods and our neural networks were used as relay stations for the hivemind.” He cupped a protective hand over the back of his neck, and Entrapta slammed her welding mask down, trying to keep out the thoughts of Prime and what had been done to Hordak and Kadroh and their brethren. Hordak noticed. “It was not that bad—“

“Don’t.” She exhaled slowly, voice shaking. “Don’t minimize what he did.” Through the mask, everything took on a soft teal tone. It made everything feel distant and ethereal, like she was looking at a world encased in glass. The tension in her chest eased, though the pit in her stomach lingered.

“Fine,” Hordak said, his voice soft. “The fact remains—I do not require time off to maintain productivity.”

With her mask on, she could hear her own breathing, steady and strong, and her voice echoed faintly. “Etherians do not regard time off merely as a necessity. It is considered inhumane to force someone to go without for long periods of time.”

“Yes. Because it is a necessity. I understand that—“

“You clearly don’t.”

He shut his eyes and his ears folded back. He exhaled slowly before saying, “I will ask Mermista.”

She lifted her mask a little. “...I just want you to take better care of yourself.”

“I will ask Mermista, but I don’t want you to be disappointed when she says no.”

“If she says no, then I’m coming over there. And we’ll go to the beach. And get ice cream. And maybe go swimming, if the salt water won’t damage your ports.”

His ears twitched, and his features softened. “Though I am uncertain of the swimming, I would otherwise be amenable to that.”

“Okay. Promise?”

His mouth twitched a little. “If it pleases you, then yes; I promise.”

She pushed the welding mask up the rest of the way. “Excellent. I’ll speak to you later, then. Unless there’s something else?”

“Nothing for now. Goodbye, Starlight. We will speak soon.”

Sea Hawk waved. “Bye, Entrapta! Never fear—I will use my masculine wiles to seduce my lady love, and convince her to release your...um—to release Hordak to you!” Hordak shut his eyes, and though it looked like Sea Hawk had more to say, the feed suddenly cut out.

Entrapta smiled to herself and resumed working on the prototype.

-

The next morning, a robot delivered a small package with her breakfast. Seeing that it was from Salineas, she made a high-pitched, happy sound and tore it open. Inside, she was surprised to find several sea shells, along with a note that merely said, “The shells are for Kadroh.” Among the shells, she found a data chip that was surely for her.

With a happy hum, she plucked the chip from the package and set the box aside, attaching the chip to her pad to see what he’d sent. It contained two files. One was her research notes. The other was her procedure proposal for their Intimacy Log. Seeing that, she had to get up, pacing and using her hair to flip and twist as she completed a circuit of her suite of rooms—her excitement simply couldn’t be contained, though she cautioned herself aloud, trying to minimize her expectations. After completing a third circuit, she finally felt settled enough to actually read what he’d sent. “Okay. Okay. Let’s do this!”  She shook out her hands and settled back on the bed, opening her proposal.

She smiled a little, reading his notes. She wished he was here; she would have loved to demonstrate how she would ‘reward him for good behavior’—and to test out the newly revealed sensitive spot behind his ears. In fact, she could demonstrate the former by showing him how much she appreciated his willingness to reveal the latter to her. She hummed again, reading his response to her question about biting. It wasn’t a ‘no’, and she was eager to see what he might mean by a “strong reaction”, though she would wait until he was ready for such a step, of course.

Then she saw the short paragraph he’d written at the end.

‘I do not think it would be wise to extend your study to my genitals at this time. I have limited knowledge of them myself; I’m not even sure if I am capable of penetrative sex, though I understand that is not necessarily a requirement. I know enough to be certain that my genitals differ from all standard Etherian configurations. I would not want to subject you to anything unusual or surprising without forewarning. For this reason, it would likely be best if I were to conduct some private research first, then we will discuss the possibility of mutual study.’

She leapt to her feet, using her hair to guide herself through a midair somersault. She began pacing her rooms again, punctuating her circuit with various acrobatics and occasionally humming to herself when her thoughts grew too loud.  She fumbled for her recorder, talking fast as she said, “Intimacy Log, personal notes, number 12. This is so fascinating! Hordak has revealed that his genitals are not Etherian in nature—which is unsurprising—and that he has limited knowledge of their form or function.” Something unpleasant itched at the back of her mind, but she just started to pace faster, burying those thoughts.

“I cannot begin to speculate on either. I have every reason to believe Hordak is what we would classify as a mammal—the presence of nipples implies his species at one time nursed their young, and he is quite warm, suggesting he does not have to rely on external heat sources to maintain his body temperature—but he is still an alien. These mammalian traits may be evidence of convergent evolution, rather than a common ancestor, though I still believe the bipedal body type suggests that our species are not entirely unrelated. Nonetheless, none of that necessarily implies so-called ‘sexual compatibility’. Hordak already seems to know that penetrative sex is not a necessity for a sexual relationship, but I will also endeavor to reassure him that our genitals do not need to be ‘compatible’ for sex to be satisfying. I should also relay that I am not put off by his confession. If anything, I am excited by the opportunity for discovery!”

She performed another somersault, shaking out her hands as she landed. “This is so exciting!” she hissed under her breath. To the recorder, she added, “He’s said that he would like to experiment on his own so as to avoid surprising me, but I would be very interested in experimenting with him. Query—has Hordak decided to experiment solo primarily out of concern for my comfort or his own? If the former, then he may allow me to at least witness any experiments he performs on himself—though I would welcome a more hands on approach, if he is willing to wait. However, if he is uncomfortable including me because...”

The unpleasant thoughts managed to break through, and she pulled her mask down securely. “While it is possible Hordak wants to experiment on his own in order to sate his curiosity in private—which would be completely understandable—I believe it is more likely that he’s uncomfortable sharing this with me due to shame and prior conditioning from Horde Prime, a suspicion reinforced by his lack of education regarding his own body’s sexual organs.” She flexed her hands, hair coiling around her limbs. “If that is the case, then I am unsure how to proceed. Hordak’s health, safety, and comfort are of primary importance, and I’m worried I’m not well equipped to make sure he isn’t harmed by our experiments. I’ve...never been good with people.” 

She shut off the recorder and cycled through her mask’s filters, trying to find a more soothing way of looking at the world. She settled on infrared, gazing at the smear of colors meant to represent variations in temperature. It was comfortably alien, and pleasing to place her hands on the metal wall and watch the colors change—like painting with her own body heat. She traced patterns on the wall and watched them fade as the transferred heat dissipated.

She took a breath and raised her mask when she felt settled enough to proceed, blinking as she readjusted to her surroundings. Clicking the recorder on, she said, “Hordak has consistently proven himself to be unlike anyone I’ve ever known. He seems to understand and respect my need for clear communication. Thus far, we have been able to prevent the kinds of misunderstandings I’ve had in the past simply by talking to each other. I have to assume I can keep him from coming to harm in the same fashion. When we next speak, I will—“  Her data pad signaled an incoming call. “Oh!” She clicked the recorder off, assuming that was him. “Hi, Hordak—wait. Sea Hawk?”

“Greetings, Princess!”

“Hi! Do you need something?”

“No. Not...not exactly.”

“Are you sure? People don’t usually call me unless they need something.”

“I don’t need anything, I just.” He winced. “I...may have...possibly...slightly overestimated my ability to convince my beloved to allow Hordak time off. And...vastly underestimated her vindictiveness.” His gaze grew watery and distant. “She is as magnificent and unforgiving as the sea.”

“Oh. Well, that’s okay. At least you tried. I’ll just—“

Sea Hawk held up a hand, shushing her. “Entrapta. Are you in a secure location?”

She glanced around her bedroom. “I suppose so.”

“Good, good. Now, tell me...how far are you willing to go to prove your devotion?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Do you want to take Hordak to Plumeria?”

“Well, yes—“

“How far are you willing to go to get him there?”

“What?”

He moaned, as if in pain. Before she could ask if he was okay, he leaned close to the camera and said, “Listen to me. I have a plan to get both you and Hordak safely and happily to Plumeria. But it may possibly be slightly illegal.” Entrapta cocked her head. “And by ‘slightly’, I mean ‘extremely’. So, how far are you willing to go to prove your affections?”

She snorted. “Sea Hawk, don’t be ridiculous; at least three of my current experiments are technically illegal. Breaking a few laws won’t prove anything. With that said—what’s your plan?”

“Well—wait. Technically illegal?”

She gestured dismissively. “Mystacor isn’t really equipped to oversee scientific studies, but my experiments are technically overseen by their ethics committee. Which is guided by a woefully outdated moral system and staffed by technophobes. I stopped asking them to approve my more interesting studies ages ago.”

“Oh. Well. I’m going to assume that’s not at all nefarious—“

“I guess that would depend on your definition.”

“—and tell you my incredible, masterful plan! First—do you by any chance own any strappy high heels? A low cut dress, perhaps? Preferably in black.”

“What?”

“Never mind! We can continue without, but I feel that ignoring the aesthetic shows a lack of commitment.”

She stared at him. “What?”

-

A/N: As always, I’m extremely grateful for all the comments you guys leave. I read them all, often multiple times. I’m not good about replying, but I am always intensely grateful.Thank you so much. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. ^//^

[kyndaris]

A Hero Lies in You

On April Fool’s Day 2019, a video was released showing the latest game in the Yakuza franchise. Many thought it was a prank. The reason why? The sudden change in combat. Gone was the brawler beat-em-up that was associated with the series. In its stead was a turn-based system reminiscent of role-playing games. Characters waiting for their turns before utilising special skills? In a franchise known for its hard gritty storylines about gangs duking it out in the streets of Japan? ‘Haha Ryu Ga Gotoku. You thought you could fool us, but we see right through you. This isn’t our first rodeo and you’re not Square Enix,’ was many a thought when the footage had been viewed by thousands online.

What gamers did not know was that this was no gag. Fast forward several months to August 2019 and it was confirmed that Yakuza 7: Like a Dragon, starring new protagonist Kasuga Ichiban, would actually incorporate turn-based battles. There would even be JOBS! 

As I had just finished playing through Kiryu’s story, as well as Judgment, in 2020 I was eager to see what new protagonist Kasuga Ichiban would bring to the table. From trailers, I could already see how much livelier Ichiban would be in comparison to the more stoic Kiryu. And, in contrast to Yagami, he was definitely more of an idiot. A lovable idiot, to be sure, but an idiot nonetheless.

Yakuza 7: Like a Dragon released in a huge week for video games. While I would have preferred to play it earlier, I had other huge titans to wrestle into submission first. Once I had managed to satiate my Ubisoft open-world needs with Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla, I dived head first onto the streets of Yokohama, ready to bust some heads.

The game opens on a play. For a moment, I thought I had somehow purchased the wrong game. But as the lengthy prologue progressed, it was very clear that this was most definitely a Yakuza game. It just needed to set up a little bit of the tale, starting with Arakawa Masumi - father figure and role-model for our erstwhile hero. It isn’t long before players are introduced to Kasuga Ichiban with his trademark ‘punch perm.’ Born in a soapland and raised by those that lived on the fringes of society, Ichiban, rather than being hardened by his experience, is empathetic and not afraid to show emotion. Tasked with collection, he interprets his orders in a way to benefit those that are struggling. His goofball attitude immediately makes him a character one can connect to. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a bit of a nerd, having played Dragon Quest during his childhood and likening many of the people around him to things in the game.

It’s not long before the plot escalates and Ichiban volunteers to give himself up to the police. Sentenced to fifteen years in prison, he inadvertently extends his sentence when his Patriarch is insulted by one of the fellow inmates. After nearly two decades spent in prison for a crime that he did not commit, Ichiban is released with little fanfare and no waiting convoy. Disappointed, he takes it in stride. The first thing on his order of business: to get his signature punch perm and reconnect with his second father-figure and Patriarch of the Arakawa family.

Along the way, he is dogged by a former policeman: Adachi. At first, it isn’t made clear why Adachi seeks Ichiban for help. After all, Ichiban had supposedly killed another yakuza in Kamurocho, Tokyo. Adachi, on the other hand, was a detective in Yokohama. Why would he have any interest in uncovering the truth behind what had put Ichiban behind bars?

After a few shenanigans are had in and around Kamurocho, our protagonist is shot and left for dead - waking up in a homeless shelter in the heart of Isezaki Ijincho. Climbing his way from rock bottom, Ichiban embarks on a journey to uncover the truth, stumbling upon a series of events and unearthing a vast conspiracy in which he was to serve as a pawn.

Many of the earlier chapters felt a little contrived. In particular was the death of Nonomiya. While it served to move the narrative forward, it was most assuredly a means to an end that didn’t highlight any significant character growth. Poor Nonomiya was fridged just to bring Ichiban into conflict with the Liumang branch of the Ijin Three.

It was only in the later chapters that the story picked up steam - with the confrontations with Bleach Japan and the encroachment by the Omi Alliance. Joined by a menagerie of characters like Zhao, Saeko, Han Joon-Gi, Nanba and Eri, there was a lot to keep track on as the plot barrelled forward at a breakneck pace, connecting Ichiban’s past with his current present and all the while setting up a juicy conflict between two men that could have been brothers. And honestly, the ending with Arakawa Masato and Ichiban got to me. I loved how that Ichiban was finally able to reach his old charge by being vulnerable and finally letting out a little of his resentment at the life Masato led, despite the fact that he could not use his legs.

The characters were superbly written and their motivations were a good reflection of the human condition. The themes of family and finding a home were evident, right from the start, even though a lot of it was glossed over by Ichiban’s desire to be a hero in a video game.

(I also really liked Seong-hui and would love to see her be an actual playable character in possible future instalments. On a side note, Arakawa...you cannot simply say: ‘See you tomorrow, Ichi,’ and expect to walk away. You basically wrote your own name into the Death Note with that line!)

As far as aping Japanese role-playing games go, however, Yakuza: Like a Dragon falls woefully short. While the Tendo twist was a good one - it was pulled a little too early. Worse, there was no world-ending threat. Everyone knows that a Japanese role-playing game MUST HAVE A VILLAIN/ EVIL GOD FIGURE THAT INTENDS TO DESTROY THE WORLD. Yakuza: Like a Dragon was too focused on old childhood rivalries to extend it further afield. I mean, yes, Aoki Ryo hoped to pull the strings of the Japanese government as chair of the CLP, but WHERE WAS THE METEOR HURTLING TOWARDS EARTH? 

Honestly, 1/10 for holding true to Japanese role-playing games.

Other than that, the summons with Pound Mates was amusing. As were the side stories. Honestly, there can never be enough side stories to flesh out the wacky world of the Yakuza franchise. So many old favourites made their return. From Pocket Fighter (now dubbed Dragon Fighter) and Gondawara Susumu with his baby fetish.

Also, I didn’t think I’d be so obsessed with it, but I think they cracked property management this time round. Ichiban Confections, later known as Ichiban Holdings, was a blast to manage and accrue juicy money for.

The bartender of Survive also looked very familiar. I mean...what with the huge scar across his face. My suspicions were confirmed when I searched up Kashiwagi up on the Yakuza wiki page and was awarded with the fact that HE MANAGED TO SURVIVE THE ASSAULT HELICOPTER FROM YAKUZA 3!!

Other than that, my few other gripes involved the implementation of the levelling system and the way area of effect skills were handled. In particular, the pathing for how characters moved around the battlefield proved, at least to me, a bit of a frustration. Often, characters would be blocked by a knee-high fence or a corner. Sometimes they would be able to go around, but other times the game (after several seconds of watching them fail to walk through a solid building) warp to the enemy that I had targeted to launch their attack.

And even though the combat is turn-based, most of the enemies tend to walk around the battlefield - either clumping together or distancing themselves from each other. What truly annoyed me was when there were moves that could be used as an area of effect, with the MP cost to go along with it, but were limited by their effectiveness when the enemy combatants were too far away. Yes, it makes sense, but golly gosh, how much of a pixel measurement does it have to be for it to not hit?

Besides that, the levelling was also a bit of a tedious chore. Were it not for the invested vagrants, I feel like I might have put the game down with how much grinding there was - particularly when it came to the various jobs. The biggest hill to climb was from 20-30. Without the exp (experience point) boosting items, it would have been a torturous slog. I know that in the original Japanese release of the game, the cap for jobs was level 30, but if you change it to 99, please, for the sanity of all the gamers out there, tweak the requirements to make it easier. And maybe give normal trash mobs a bit more experience points for the playable characters to munch on. 

Goodness, imagine having to grind on level 55 Ornery Yakuza and receiving a paltry 1000xp for each battle (when, in order to level up a job, you needed almost a million).

Yakuza: Like a Dragon is a break from the traditional formula that’s been a staple of the franchise for many years. Much like Ichiban, it’s a bit of fresh air to liven up the experience that might have gone a bit stale after I slogged through the whole Kiryu arc last year. With a few tweaks, and a few more Persona 5 CD soundtracks, I’m eager to see how the story evolves and whatever contrivances Ichiban will somehow force him into.

Although, to be fair, is it still appropriate to call this franchise Yakuza when the game literally saw the dismantling of the two biggest clans? Then again, Civilian: Like a Dragon 2 just doesn’t have the same ring to it. In any case, I hope the next one comes soon and we’ll be able to have Seong-hui in our party. I feel like she’d be wielding a gunblade.

(Did I just use a lyric from Mariah Carey? You bet I did! I had been tossing up the idea between this line and ‘I need a hero.’ Why? Well, I think that would be self-explanatory after knowing Ichiban’s proclivities. And it fits so, so, so well!) 

[chaoticnerdreview]

Two Wo-men Power Trip: The Accidental Reboot

It was the year 2001, Stone Cold Steve Austin takes the risk of his career by turning heel and gets rewarded with the WWF title thanks to a newly forged alliance with Vince McMahon. Being one of his lackeys, Triple H asks Vince why isn’t a champion as well and, shortly after, becomes Intercontinental Champion. Forging their alliance with the gold of their championships and the blood of the people who stood in their way, the two won the tag team titles, thus beginning their short - but effective - reign of terror. (Full story here)

Fast forward to right now, June 2020, days after Sasha Banks - one half of the duo that holds the women’s tag team titles - challenged Asuka for the RAW title after claiming she’s “jealous” of seeing Bayley hold two titles of their own. For a year, I’ve been preaching that the two of them would break in a replication of the story that broke their idols - Eddie Guerrero and Rey Mysterio - but, given the recent developments, the build up to that epic culmination might take a different, perhaps even accidental, path. Call it destiny or coincidence but allow me to ask: Could a Two Women Power Trip be happening right under our nose? Let’s see. Step by step. If you’d follow me, please.

DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

In the original story, the moment Stone Cold Steve Austin crossed the line onto the “dark” side and shook hands with Vince McMahon, commentary announced it as a deal with the devil. As if Stone Cold had sold his sold for that championship.

If we fly back to Sasha’s return last year, while Bayley’s trajectory was heading there regardless of what Sasha did, the moment Bayley took the chair out of Sasha’s hand and decided to beat up Becky Lynch - our new age people’s champion and sacrificial lamb, the way The Rock was back in the original story-, it gave us the certainty that it was happening. The biggest babyface in the women’s division, the girl that had been called the female John Cena, the hero of countless children, was, in fact, turning heel.

And as if beating up Becky Lynch wasn’t enough, Bayley accepted Sasha’s chair once again, days later, to do the same thing with Charlotte Flair. By destroying two of the biggest pillars in the women’s division, Bayley confirmed that she too had made a deal with the devil and there was no turning back.

SCREW ALL OF YOU

After winning the title, Stone Cold told the fans that he didn’t owe anything to them and they could screw themselves. Does this... Ring a bell?

The haircut, the new gear, the murder of the Bayley Buddies, there wasn’t a single stone left unturned when Bayley walked triumphantly into SmackDown, the fire of her heelish confidence burning inside her. She got the title back from Charlotte and, afterwards, she muttered the iconic words no fan will ever forget: hey bitches, screw all of you.

BACKLASH 2001/2020

While Triple H held the IC title and Stone Cold the WWF title, it wasn’t enough for their power trip so at Backlash 2001 they wanted to dethrone the Brothers of Destruction. To spice things up, Vince McMahon added the Winners Take All stipulation and yet, the four title ended up in the hands of Triple H and Stone Cold. Just as as planned.

This is the part where things differ because, at the start - and end - of Backlash, Sasha and Bayley were already champions after dethroning Alexa/Nikki in the previous episode of SmackDown. However, during the match, we could see that Sasha and Bayley don’t see exactly eye to eye when it comes to strategy but they retained nonetheless. 

AFTERMATH

After Backlash, Triple H would go on to lose his title because Stone Cold cost him that match with a chair shot. They would then lose their tag team titles due to Triple H hitting Stone Cold with the sledgehammer, by mistake. And when things would get interesting, the stars didn’t align for Triple H to challenge Stone Cold for his title because, unfortunately, injuries don’t respect timing or plans or anything of the sort.

As for the, probably, accidental reboot of this story, we’re still building our pyramid so that the fall is bigger than the rise. Just the way we enjoy it, right, fellas? That being said, Sasha Banks just challenged Asuka for the RAW women’s title at Extreme Rules.

Now.

Two options are possible.

One - At Extreme Rules, Bayley costs Sasha the second title the same way Stone Cold did and, in the same night, they would lose the tag team titles. Destroying the friendship, destroying the best tag team in the world, and sending us on our way to Sasha become the biggest babyface anyone could ever dreamed on the build to fight the monster she created in Bayley.

Two - At Extreme Rules, Sasha wins the title and we have at the very least a full week of the Two Women Power Trip in its full glory until the card castle crumbles when one of them costs the other the first title and we arrive where Triple H didn’t: at the door of the champion, asking for the title on top of the golden pyramid.

Its WWE’s choice at this point and whatever path we get, we, the public, will be the real winners.

Bonus: after their partnership became public, Triple H and Stone Cold cut a promo calling themselves unstoppable. Ring any bells? Exactly. 

[nocompromise-noregrets]

Writers’ Month 2020 masterpost

1. “tattoo artist/florist AU”: On Arda Street, chapter 1: The Tattoo Artist and the Florist. Bard/Thranduil plus Sigrid, Bain, Tilda and Legolas. There’s a tattoo studio, and a florist’s shop, one on one side of the street and the other a few doors down on the other side, and the curious thing is that the tattoo artist has no tattoos at all - or at least, no visible ones - and the florist has more than a casual observer would be able to count at a glance.

2. “quarantine”: Quarantine with Hal and Jack, chapter 1. Hal Peacock/Jack Outlaw | Jack McQueen, plus Natalie Peacock (OCs from my forever-unfinished novel Two of a Kind). Jack is not coping as well with the covid-19 lockdown as Hal had thought he might. Luckily, Hal has an idea for something to take his mind off it. (not that, get your mind out of the gutter :D )

3. “magic”: Something Magical. Bard/Thranduil. Thranduil thinks about magic, and glamour, and illusion, and wonders if now he is under a different kind of enchantment.

4. “long distance relationship”: So Much To Say. Bard/Thranduil. Bard did not quite manage to tell Thranduil exactly how he felt before the Elves left Dale to return home.

5. “soulmates”: Who Else?. Elladan/Elrohir. The twins are not looking forward to the day of their majority, when they will find out how long they have until they each meet their respective soulmates. However, it appears the Valar already have something in mind for them.

6. “ocean”: Anchor Me To My Promises. Legolas/Imrahil. Legolas stands at the top of the tallest tower of Dol Amroth and looks out over the Sea to the West; sometimes the Sea-longing is almost more than he can bear, but Imrahil is there to ease it and to anchor him to Middle-Earth, for now at least.

7. “hurt/comfort”: All The Time That There Is. Melkor/Mairon. After the Ring is destroyed, Sauron falls.

8. “eight”: Not Right At All. Pippin. It isn’t right, Pippin thinks incoherently as they stumble away from the gates of Moria, blinking in the daylight, blinking back tears. It isn’t right, they were the Nine Walkers, and now Gandalf is gone and there are only eight of them.

9. “illness”: Susceptible. Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn, Legolas, Elrond, Erestor. The twins and Estel have caught something distinctly resembling the flu while out hunting Orc with the Dúnedain. Elladan is not happy about it, Elrohir is asleep, Elrond is trying to care for them, Legolas is worried about Estel - and Erestor takes charge.

10. “bunnies”: An Alliance With The Land. Tilda, Tauriel.  On their way to the Woodland Realm to visit the Elvenking, Tilda decides she doesn't want to eat rabbits any more, and Tauriel tells her about the Elves' alliance with the forest.

11. “light”: The Light In The Bottle. Sam, Galadriel, Celeborn. At Aragorn and Arwen's wedding, Sam scrunches up his courage to thank Galadriel for the Light of Eärendil which saved Frodo's life (and, he might reluctantly admit, his own).

12. “meet-cute”: A Man Of Splendour. Legolas/Imrahil, Gimli. Gimli likes to tease Legolas about how starry-eyed he got when they first met Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Legolas likes to deny everything, but he knows Gimli is right.

13. “music”: Quarantine with Hal and Jack, chapter 2. Hal Peacock/Jack McQueen | Jack Outlaw. Hal’s and Jack’s bands do a livestream gig...with a surprise at the end for the fans.

14. “metamorphosis”: How To Build A Boy. Hal Peacock/Jack McQueen | Jack Outlaw. Hal thinks about how much Jack has changed over the long years he's known him. Which is...a Lot.

15. “coffee-shop AU”: On Arda Street, chapter 2: The Last Homely Coffee House. Elrond, Celebrían and the kids, half of the population of Imladris, Thorin's Company, various hobbits and a few refugees from the Silmarillion. A little further down the street from the tattoo studio and the florist’s shop is a coffee house. The sign over the door says ‘The Last Homely Coffee House’ and everyone is welcome.

16. “history”: Tales of Glory. Pippin, Merry, Éowyn, Legolas, Glorfindel. At Aragorn and Arwen's wedding, Legolas introduces Éowyn, Merry and Pippin to Glorfindel, who is very keen to thank Merry and Éowyn for proving him right.

17. “cooking”: Birthday Cake. Hal Peacock/Jack McQueen | Jack Outlaw, Natalie Peacock. Natalie wants to bake her dad a birthday cake. Jack, slightly bewildered by the whole concept, helps out.

18. “myths”: Stories of the Past. Frodo. Frodo thinks about stories a lot, in the months after his return to Bag End.

19. “deaging”: A Little Less Than Safe. Bard/Thranduil, Sigrid, Tilda, Sauron. Thranduil takes Bard, Sigrid and Tilda for a picnic in the forest. The sorcerer of Dol Guldur sees an opportunity to have a little fun and teach the Elvenking a lesson.

20. “loss”: To Those We Have Lost. Legolas/Imrahil, Bard/Thranduil (past). After Imrahil's funeral, Legolas arrives back in Ithilien to find that he has a visitor, the one person in all of Middle-Earth who knows exactly what he is feeling: his father.

21. “family”: Room For One More. Legolas, Tilda, background Bard/Thranduil. Legolas finds himself travelling near Dale, ten years or so after the Battle of the Five Armies, and decides to see for himself how the city has changed since he was last there, which brings him news and a gift that he had not expected.

22. “pet store AU”: On Arda Street chapter 3: The Animal Café. Beorn, Sigrid, Tilda, Legolas, Théoden, Théodred, Éowyn, Éomer, Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Aragorn. One of the other shops on the street isn’t a shop at all; it’s an animal café and sanctuary for all sorts of animals.

23. “poison”: Complicated. Tilda, Tauriel, Sigrid, Bard/Thranduil. Tilda wants to know why the Elvenking was mean to Tauriel, when her Da seems to think he's nice, and Tauriel tries to explain.

24. “true love’s kiss”: True Love’s Kiss. Hal Peacock/Jack McQueen | Jack Outlaw, Natalie Peacock. Natalie is trying to explain Sleeping Beauty to Jack. Jack doesn't get it, and Hal steps in to try and help (and possibly demonstrate).

25. “drop”: Nobody Tosses A Dwarf. Legolas, Gimli. While exploring the Glittering Caves, Legolas and Gimli come across a place where the path has fallen away. Legolas can make the jump, but Gimli...can't quite.

26. “summer vacation”: Reunions. Legolas/Imrahil, Bard/Thranduil (past). In the fifth summer of Legolas' new colony in Ithilien, his father comes to visit him, and they talk about some of the things they now have in common.

27. “dream”: A Dream In The Green. Gawain (Cursed 2020). Tortured, gravely injured, barely alive, Gawain dreams. And the earth takes him back to herself, to heal.

28. “fantasy”: You Know There’s Another Three Movies, Right? Hal Peacock/Jack McQueen | Jack Outlaw. Hal and Jack watch the Lord of the Rings movies. Jack actually enjoys them, which is rather more than Hal had expected.

29. “high school AU”: On Arda Street, chapter 4: The Kids Are All Right. Legolas, Sigrid, Bain, Tilda, Bard/Thranduil. The children of the tattoo artist and the florist think it’s high time their dads admitted they like each other. Little do they know, their dads are some way ahead of them.

30. “joy”: Empty-Handed. Bard/Thranduil, Thranduil’s Wife (Auriel), Bard’s Wife (Maudie), Legolas, Sigrid, Tilda. Thranduil almost does not sail West at all, certain that Valinor will hold nothing for him, and when he does get there he begins to lose his already tenuous grip on life. But his wife and his son have a plan to restore his happiness to him.

31. “there was only one bed!”: The Fellowship Reunited. The Fellowship and friends. Everyone is very, very tired after the end of the War of the Ring, and when the Fellowship visit Frodo during his recovery, nobody can quite stay awake. Unfortunately there is only one bed...zzzzzz...

All works posted to my Writers’ Month 2020 series on AO3!

Huge thanks to the mods of @writersmonth for organising this event and to everyone who has read, kudos’d, commented and supplied ideas! I have had a hectic, tiring and incredibly enjoyable month, and have written and posted 41,307 words (phew!). Now I’m going to have a little rest...and then start working on the extra chapters some of these stories deserve! (and posting the story to which several of these serve as side-fics and epilogues...)

[aregebidan]

What’s your favourite (most likeable, most interesting, most fun to think about, whatever) Tolkien character and why? And do you have any headcanons about them?

Thanks for asking!

Depending on my mood / what day it is, my favorite character is either Maglor or Mairon. 

I have A Lot of headcanons about our dear minstrel, but the one I consider most important is that he has the gift of foresight, which he accesses via music (see this post for details.) Beyond that, my hcs for Maglor are mostly just little painful tidbits, like:

He’s kind to Elrond and Elros because they remind him of Amrod and Amras.

After the Oath, he becomes quite cold and cynical on the outside because he’s scared of what would happen if he loses control of his emotions again. This causes Caranthir, who’s known for being hot-headed, to dislike him. 

His songs weren’t very popular in Valinor because they always had a certain Sad Vibe about them, derived from his visions, that weirded out most of Tirion. It was only in Middle-Earth, where everyone had Sad Vibes and needed someone to express them, that he became known as a great musician.

He learned how to duel wield during his rebellious emo phase to spite Maedhros, who was always showing off his athletic skills at that time. “See Nelyo?? Anything you can do, I can do better!” *Nerdanel sighs in the background*

Spending so much time by the sea only enhances his “magic.” By the time the War of the Ring rolls around, even the Orcs know to avoid him. 

When Sam sails, Maglor protects him from storms and sings away the rough winds for him because even if he can’t go back to his friends and family, this precious child should be able to.

Headcanons for Mairon are more difficult to come up with-- I mean, he’s a millennia-old fallen angel who I first knew as a sentient flaming eyeball and I’m not even a legal adult. I still have a few though, which feature a lot of other characters:

His armor from the Battle of the Last Alliance isn’t made of plain metal, it’s made of the pieces of Grond that he found in Angband after the War of Wrath. Being surrounded by Melkor’s energy makes him feel a bit better. It feels like a hug

The dragons didn’t like him very much, which explains why Smaug didn’t ally with him in Mirkwood. I may or may not have thought of an entire conspiracy theory about why the dragons disliked Mairon, which revolves around Glaurung and Feanor, but it’s staying in my head for now. 

Before he joined Melkor, Olorin and Curunir hero-worshipped him and saw him as this perfect Maia. When he fell, Olorin had to go to Nienna to cope (Nienna being the resident Ainur therapist.) Curunir was too proud to go, which made it easier for Mairon to corrupt him later on. 

He hates being in Numenor as a prisoner because it reminds him of Melkor’s stories of when he was chained in Mandos. 

After Melkor leaves, Mairon practices his seduce-and-destroy act with  Celebrimbor mainly to understand him and how he felt when he was corrupting Mairon. Celebrimbor has a lot in common with pre-fall Mairon, which makes him a good subject. Later on, he accepts that he’ll never truly understand Melkor and it becomes a sort of hobby that he practices on Pharazon. 

Wow, that got out of hand. I hope you enjoyed it ;;

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Drunk Punch Love: Chapter 6

Pairing: FemShep and Garrus Vakarian (Shakarian)

Rating: PG-13 (with some tossed F-bombs)

Summary: Their awkward, badass journey through saving the galaxy and accidentally falling in love

Chapter 6: Savior of The Citadel

Anya Shepard doomed the council. And worse, she knew that others would call it a bid for human interests. But sacrificing the Destiny Ascension meant that more people could live, and those still trapped in the Citadel could be protected.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself as she stood next to Saren's bloody husk corpse and watched everything explode outside the window, hoping what she just did was worth it.

She didn't know if she could live with herself if her choices didn't mean something. There were already way too many graves tied to the decisions she'd made.

Like hell she knew this would be her fate when they were coming up the turbolift to fight Saren. It would have been harder to know she had something damning in common with the turian she was about to face, but she doubted he felt as much compassion and guilt as she did.

In all honesty, all she thought about on the way up was how much she wanted to watch the fucker burn.

Then those turbolift doors opened and she, Wrex, and Garrus darted up those council steps that she had a Pavlovian association with disappointment and frustration. Anya could feel it building up in her as they got closer and closer.

Taking that last step to the council's podium, there he had been. And that time, after all the damnable near misses, she didn't give him a shot. Much like he did to Nihlus, Shepard put on her Infiltrator cloak, stood right behind him, and fired her pistol.

Anticlimactic, but so damn satisfying to see him drop like a rock. He didn't deserve a grand fight. He deserved to fall down without the luxury of final words.

Well, then Anya turned around and everything outside was burning and they were asking her to make the call. Thousands of Alliance soldiers and Citadel civilians, or the hundreds of people protecting the council. All she saw were the numbers and the innocence and she made it.

But it was over. It had to be over.

Of course it wasn't fucking over, but she wanted it to be. Something grabbed her leg, though, and crashed her down into a lower decks area. The creature before her had Saren's face, but it was dripping blue blood and was now three times her size. It looked like a goddamn demon with the skin texture of as husk. Wrex and Garrus dropped down to help her and that's when a real bastard of a fight began.

Sovereign just had to go and play god with Saren, didn't he?

Shepard's mind started running on full adrenaline, dodging Saren's husk and protecting her team. Wrex got a wicked face slash and Garrus got thrown into a wall, but the asshole wasn't going to take anyone else from her.

She collapsed him under some pillars and hoped she'd make it out alive. Part of her wondered at the time if i'd be easier if she didn't; after all, her job was only going to get harder now.

But she pulled herself out of the rubble, even though her ears were ringing, and Garrus carried her back to them. Anya was struggling to keep her memory on track just walking back into the safer parts of the Citadel. She was pretty sure her ears were bleeding and everything was kinda blurry. It just was nice to have a trusted arm around her shoulder keeping her safe.

And now she was stuck in a very loud, very overwhelming meeting with Udina and Anderson and it felt like she was just floating above it all. The destroyed Presidium couldn't be real, right?

Hell, everything the past couples days felt so wrong.

"Shepard? Are you listening? What do you think?"

Anya's body jolted and she looked straight into Udina's very pissed off face. She ran a hand through her hair; during the Saren fight her normally immaculate bun ripped open and her hair was all over the place and probably matted with blue blood. Whoever the hell thought she was the most capable to answer anything must've lost their damn mind.

Still pressing a wet cloth to her split lip, Anya tried to salvage things. "No. Sorry. What did you ask?"

Udina rolled his eyes and made a disgusted noise like she was a petulant child, but repeated himself, "With the council gone, new leaders need to be put in place, ASAP. And with humanity at its best, we're going to be at the forefront."

"Okay? And how am I involved in this?"

Anderson looked pretty uncomfortable, but he kept his hands behind his back and looked at her seriously. It was at least nice someone treated her like an adult who deserved a spot at the table. She always appreciated that about Anderson; he looked at everyone that way. "With your new fame as the savior of the Citadel, people will look to your for guidance. So Udina wanted your vote on who should lead the council."

She didn't mean to, but Anya laughed so hard that her definitely bruised ribs hurt like hell. She even had to put her wet rag down on the railing to hold her sides so they didn't literally split. "Me? The closest thing I know to council level seniority are you two." Udina gave her a pointed look and her stomach fell through the glass floor. What made either of these men capable of the job? She adored Anderson, he was a mentor and a friend, but he was no politician. And Udina knew his politics, but he quickly fell into "humanity first" mindsets. And that shit wasn't going to be helpful for a galactic war.

And yet here they fucking were.

Running a hand through her hair again, and trying not to grimace when she definitely caught something in her fingertips, she tried her best to answer them, "While just picking between you two is the dumbest shit I ever heard, my vote would be Anderson. We're heading into a war, and we need people who can get our asses out of it at the helm." But with a deep, slightly beleaguered sigh, she added, "But don't go too far, Udina. I still think you should advise him and kick diplomatic ass. I'm sure Anderson will need a lot of help not clocking anyone."

While Udina didn't look happy, he at least looked slightly amused. "If you're sure. Now on the matter of the Destiny Ascension-"

"If the extranet's going to burn me alive, let them. I let them die out there. They should hold me accountable, even if the law never will."

Anderson furrowed his brow and reached for her hand. Anya didn't mean to wince away so quickly. Instead, he just gave her these sad, soulful eyes. They didn't make her feel any better. "Somebody had to make the call."

"Of course somebody did. And today, it was me. Doesn't make up for the people dead, though." Rolling her shoulders, Anya stood up straight, removed herself from leaning against the railing. It was time to soldier up. "Don't worry about me, Anderson. I can take it. Just make sure there's a damn good statue or something for Willaims, will you? Without her, no one would've made it."

They both looked like they had more to say, and even Udina looked concerned. Maybe they should be. She was now the first human Spectre who now had the galactic authority to name or kill councilmembers. That was fucking scary. But Udina just said, after getting serious frown face from looking at something from his wrist, "We will. Now, Admiral Shepard is on the extranet. Threatened to "sick her bear" on me."

The universe was damn bleak, but of course her mother could make it better with one sentence. Looking Udina, she let him in on the secret, "She means me. She calls me her baby bear. But a warning, if she'd told me to rough you up, I would."

Anderson chuckled, but Udina only did that awkward laugh thing where he really means that he hates soldiers and wishes he didn't have to interact with them as much. Anya couldn't really blame him. Picking up her helmet and holding it on her hip, she nodded and them both. "I'll be in your office using the screen to deal with mother bear."

After she got into Udina's office and left the men to, probably, argue, she let the neutral look on her face fall. She let her face go heavy; as heavy as it felt. Hell, it probably should be heavier. Today had been a long fucking day.

But she had one more thing to deal with: Oksana Shepard.

Anya inhaled deeply and then sat down at Udina's desk. One or two clicks and she was calling the infamous Admiral Shepard. Within seconds of starting the call, her mother's short, bright blonde hair, gray eyes, and scarred cheek. And somehow, on this dark fucking day, she was smiling. Trying to give her own best grin, Anya said, "Hello, Mama."

"Detenysh! My little one! Today was a good victory. You did good. How does it feel to have that rogue Spectre eating metal?"

Shaking her head, she always found it hard to talk straight in front of her mother. She was a warrior through and through. Sure, Anya was a warrior, too, but if there never was another war again and she was out of a job, she could probably live with that. Oksana couldn't. She answered as honestly as she could without starting a fight, "Good to protect people. Less good to know how many dead it took to take him down."

"They died honorably, Anya. That's all anyone can wish for." While she nodded, Anya couldn't help but wonder: is it? But then her mother continued, "I am so proud that my daughter is the savior of the Citadel. Your father would have been proud, too."

Anya didn't really know what to say to that. She'd never met her father. "I hope so. I made a lot of hard calls today."

"They are all preparing you for the great Admiral or General you will one day be."

A million old conversations swirled around in her head. "Mama-"

"I know, I know. You'll find your own path. It's just pure coincidence I was right about all of it so far."

The smug way her mom said it kinda pissed Anya off, especially with that smirk on her face, but she was going to let it slide today. "I'm just happy to see you."

"And I you, Detenysh. You're the reason all my men are okay and so many people made it out alive today. When they chose you for a Spectre, they chose right."

Feeling herself get a tad bit emotional, Anya rubbed her face and tried to shake the feeling away. "Shh. Enough of that." With a crash from outside and a loud yell, Shepard could tell Udina and Anderson were arguing again. She flashed her mother another smile before ending the call, even though she knew this might be the last she saw of her for awhile.

Happens when your mother's specialty always was undercover missions. "I have to go be a hero a little longer. I love you, Mama."

"I love you too, little one."

And then she was gone. Anya could get more emotional about it, probably even have a year's worth of therapy about how her mother often popped in to give her praise but never was a consistent parental force in her life. But she really didn't have the time for counseling right now, and at least her mother was okay. Honestly, Anya would take any good news from today that she could get.

Logging off, she stood back up and put back on her stronger face. It was time to play babysitter to the two men she just appointed to run the Council together.

Why did anyone let her make big decisions?

///

Author’s note: 

So happy a bunch of people enjoyed the last few chapters on here! I’m posting often to catch up to the story on other sites. 

Thanks so much for reading, and double thanks to my lovely patrons:

Danyell Jones

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