#that said I’ve definitely fallen off the wagon

[shego1142]

My friend and I challenged ourselves to drink 80 Oz or more of water daily (which is below the general average but we’re both starting from a place of ‘dehydration is our norm’)

And we just kept talking about how pissed off we were that our skin felt better and our acne wasn’t as bad and etc

fucking hate it when the stuff everybody says "actually works" does actually work.

hate exercising and realizing i've let go of a lot of anxiety and anger because i've overturned my fight-or-flight response.

hate eating right and eating enough and eating 3 times a day and realizing i'm less anxious and i have more energy

hate journaling in my stupid notebook with my stupid bic ballpoint and realizing that i've actually started healing about something once i'm able to externalize it

hate forgiving myself hate complimenting myself more often hate treating myself with kindness hate taking a gratitude inventory hate having patience hate talking to myself gently

hate turning my little face up to the sun and taking deep breaths and looking at nature and grounding myself and realizing that i feel less burdened and more hopeful, more actually-here, that i am able to see the good sides of myself more clearly, that i am able to see not only how far i have to grow - but also how much growth i have already done & how much of my life i truly fill with light and laughter and love

horrible horrible horrible. hate it but i'm gonna do it tho

[bernieanderson]

Clear your Inbox (The Easy Way)

In was early in the year 2002.  Sometime after New year’s resolutions and all that.

I sat in my office surrounded by stacks of books and papers and sermons and mail. I felt like a hoarder. But I didn’t want to be a hoarder. I had an email inbox that looked pretty much like my office, except inside the matrix.

It was a terrible day of overwhelm and feeling like a failure for not having the ability to keep up with stuff. 

If I had a do-over for that day, I would be much more gracious to myself. We were entering into new territory regarding information.  The digital age was fully upon us. We didn’t have the tools to deal with the deluge. We didn’t have the systems to harness the pixels. 

I just sat there feeling bad about myself and about my lack of ability to deal with the aftermath of the World Wide Web. 

 Thankfully my good friend, Joel, was dealing with the same issues as me in those days. He was an entrepreneurial knowledge worker, before said jobs were quite as ubiquitous. I can’t remember which of us heard about David Allan first, but we read Getting Things Done together. It was one of the most game-changing books I ever read. (I’m pretty sure Joel found it as helpful as I did.)

 What David Allan Taught Me

I sat in my office, cracked open the GTD book and implemented as I read. It took me about a week. But when that week was over, I had (more or less) wrangled everything. My inbox was clear. My office was clean. I had to-dos and projects organized in lists. It was the first time I felt in control in years. It was fantastic.

Don’t be deceived. This isn’t a “happily ever after” story. I’ve most definitely fallen off the productivity wagon lots of times since then.  But here the things that stick with me 21 years after reading David Allan for the first time:

1.    You gotta have a system: Without a system for “stuff” — “stuff” takes over everything. Especially when your “stuff” is digital.

2.    The system must be one that your brain trusts: If your brain doesn’t really believe it will find the impotent stuff, the stuff that really matters, you will go back to keeping everything on the best or in your inbox, so you don’t lose it.

3.    Think in terms of action: The key questions is always “What do I do with this?”  This eliminates your options. (More on the practicalities below.)

 This is way a lot of people keep thousands of emails in their inbox, and that it would be inconceivable to clear that stuff out. The ever elusive “Inbox 0” is a pipe dream. 

I get my inbox to zero at least three times per week, most of the time every day.

I don’t lose emails, and if you email me, it will get answered and will not get lost.

Here’s my system that I trust:

First a few general email principles:

Use Email for What It’s Good At. Don’t Use Email for What It’s Bad At.

Email is great at:

●      Non-urgent communication across time zones

●      Non-urgent communication to teams

●      Document sharing

Email is a bad at (I would say VERY bad at):

●      To do lists

●      Scheduling

●      Hard conversations

 Process Email During Specified Blocks of Time

For me, it’s mid-morning, mid-afternoon, and before quitting time. There’s no “right time” however. Depending on your context, you may need to process more frequently — or even less frequently.

 Have Separate Email Addresses for Work Roles/Personal

This has to do with the cost of context shifting. Most people just have personal and work email. I have an email address for two different work roles, personal, and my website. The key is to separate, so when you due process email, you can focus on one area at a time. Context shifting between various roles at work and your personal life takes a toll. It will make you tired.

Get to Inbox Zero Regularly (At Least Once Per Week)

This will assure your brain that there are no snakes in the grass, lying in wait to bite you.

 Finally, the good stuff. Here is my system for inbox zero.

Open a single inbox.

Open a single email (I usually start at the top. But you can start at the bottom.)

 Ask this question:

Is there any action I need to take with this?

The answer to this question for most email is, “No”.

Then your next action is quite simple.

Delete it.

Or you can archive it if you’re not comfortable with deleting things. The point is to get it out of your inbox.

 Great, there’s a sale at Best Buy. But I’m not buying crap at Best Buy this week.  Eliminate that bad boy from your life. 

 Is there an action I need to take that will take two minutes or less?

Do it.

Now.

The two-minute rule is a principle I learned from David Allen that I still employ today. Can I get this done in two minutes or less? A quick reply. A quick read. Two minutes. It’s done. You’re done. The email is gone.

 Is there an action that will take longer than two minutes?

Get that on a list.

I use Asana for my task lists. I break down my tasks into these categories:

Brainstorms (Ideas that need clarity/projects that need to be broken down into steps and tasks)

Bullies and Bulldozers (tasks that need prolonged focus or Deep Work)

Busywork (generally administrative tasks)

 Some people also have a “waiting for” list when you need a reply from someone. I tend to snooze the emails I want to follow up with. If I need a conversation with someone, I don’t send an email, except to maybe schedule an appointment using Calendly. This eliminates 752 back and forth emails.

 Almost every email that needs a more than 2-minute action will go on this list.  Get it on your list and archive the email.

 Is there an action I want to take on this at a specific time?

Simple solution here. Pick a day and put it on a calendar. Archive

 Is this something I don’t want to decide on right now?

If so, I snooze it. My email app is called Airmail for Mac. It has a beautiful snooze feature. Gmail has a snooze feature as well. Use this. It will make your life so much better.

 Is this information I would like to read later?

I use a tool called SaneBox, and create a folder called Saturday morning. This puts the email (usually a newsletter I’m interested in) into a folder, and it magically reappears on Saturday, when I have the luxury of reading such things.

 I will also forward such things to my Instapaper account to read later as well.

 This is the basic plan I follow, and the tools I use. My inbox is cleared out most days. If there’s an ongoing, current project, I will occasionally leave a couple of emails in my inbox for a few days. But part of my Friday ritual is to decide on everything and get to the pretty little Inbox Zero icon. 

 You can do this.

You need a system that your brain trusts. My brain trusts my system. And I rarely miss anything.

If this topic interests you, there are a couple of things you might be interested in.

1.    I am doing a webinar for Global Trellis on Tuesday, at 9:00 AM EST this week. This webinar is designed for cross cultural workers. But I will be going through the information above and showing you exactly how I use these tools to keep my email cleared out with relative ease. Sign up here, if you’re interested in joining.

2.    Growability® Coaching includes robust tools and training for time management, if that’s something you feel like you need help with.  Set up a quick call with me if you want to up your leadership (and time-management!) game with some coaching.

3.    Also – SaneBox is an email tool I can’t function without. If you want an extra $5 bucks off, use my promo code here and check it out.

[yesokaythatsfine69]

Heavy Dosage (Levi Ackerman x reader)

Description: after getting hurt during a scouting mission, y/n is given quite a heavy dosage of medication. Will her secret crush on her squad leader remain secret?

Character(s): Y/n, Hangi, Levi, nurse, eren

Pov: 3rd person

Warning(s): pain, broken bones, kissing, no spoilers

A/n: hello! I took a little break earlier and recently I've been watching two new animes, AOT and Kakegurui (both r completely different lmao) so I decided to add more fuel to the fire that is the Levi Ackerman x reader tag. Don't worry there aren't any spoilers I just wrote a cute thing.

*none of the gifts used are mine. Full credit goes to the maker.

"Shit!" That was the last thing y/n had said before she disappeared from the view of her fellow squad members. Levi watched, fear causing him to freeze. One moment she had been calling him a "old slow poke", her smile dazzling and eyes brighter than diamonds- and in an instant she was gone.

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Pain had seared through y/n's skull when she finally landed from being thrown. The titan had grabbed a line of her odm gear and flung her, snapping the line and causing her to fall straight down and into a tree. Her body had tumbled through the branches, each branch snapping with the weight of her body and the force she had been thrown from.

Y/n was usually proud to say that Titan's couldn't touch her- she was fast, faster than almost any person in her squad- and that usually meant that she was untouchable to them. She was the one who helped the other members of her squad survive. Today, however, had been different and not even her speed had saved her.

The pain in her skull forced her eyes open. The area in which she laid was dead silent, but she didn't feel scared or worried. It was peaceful and almost poetic. She focused on her breathing, and tried to register where she had been hurt. Her head hurt, her back hurt, and her legs seethed, but she could at least feel pain.

She tried to move but only whimpered when the pain in her legs intensified. Her eyes watered. She couldn't get up and what she thought had been luck that she experienced from not dying from her tremendous fall- had suddenly become a curse. Now, she would be easily found by a titan and just as easily eaten.

"you've...got to...be fucking kidding...me." she wheezed between hot tears. Suddenly a zipping noise broke the silence around her and a small thumping sound caused her tense up. "Y/L/N!" Her eyes widened at the sound of her squad leader's voice. Then, Two arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up. Captain Levi was above her, on his knees before her- not in the ways she had always dreamed about either.

"What did you do, Brat?" His silver orbs narrowed as he searched her face. Any other time being this close to Levi would've been similar to Heaven, but now, it carried a strange and dangerous weight. "Captain Levi, I-" His expression cut her off. His face was blank, eyes were narrowed, mouth drawn up in a thin line. He was angry, she could sense his emotions beyond what he showed with his face. That had been the reason they worked so well together- y/n could read him like a book.

He seemed to notice she had been crying, and wiped away a stray tear. "I-I'm sorry, Captain Levi I-" He said nothing and hoisted her up in his arms, pressing her head against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat- constant and comforting in her ear. For several moments they trampled in the woods in silence.

Finally he spoke. "I'll get you to the wagons and you'll be okay, y/n, try to be still." His voice seemed tired and his movements were oddly weary. Y/n frowned as she looked up at him.

Somehow she felt like he had said these words not for her benefit, but for his own. He hardly ever used her first name, preferring "brat" and "y/l/n" to order her around with. Now, as his grip on her tightened, she buried her face against his chest, deciding it was best to leave her thoughts unsaid.

As she snuggled against him, he relaxed, his shoulders releasing the tension they carried since he saw that bitch titan thrown her out of his sight. Levi had been angry- but not angry at Y/n. Angry at himself for not protecting her, angry at those fucking Titan's for taking away the people he loved from him. He felt y/n adjust slightly and that's when he realized she had fallen alseep. Her breathing evened out, and she seemed limp against him.

When he reached the clearing Petra ran up to him. "Y/n! Is she okay?" Levi said nothing, and Petra watched in worry as he pushed past her.

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Sometimes lines get blurry. The separation between two distinct things gets combined and those two things once so distinctly different are now seemingly the same. Y/n stared straight ahead, boards on the walls combining and shape shifting. They had given her medicine for her pain, that fact was that her leg had been broken, along with a fractured skull and a few other twisted and mangled bones, so anything was deemed worthy to give her.

The medicine, whatever it was could definitely be considered "that good stuff". She giggled, watching as the nurse adjusted her covers. "You're trying to tickle me!" "Y/n?" Y/n's head slowly bobbed to the side, where Hanji was standing. Her arms were crossed, but a smile shown on her face.

"You look better than I was expecting." Y/n smiled widely. "It's the drugs!" Hanji mimicked her smile. Y/n, was for the most part a lively a fun person. She wasn't anywhere near as loud of bouncy as Hanji herself was- mainly because y/n had a better sense of timing. Now however, Hanji noted that her personality seemed to come on quite strongly.

"I just came to check on you, considering what I heard had happened you are very lucky." Y/n only giggled. "lucky-smucky. Luck had nothing to do with it. It's a skill to hit every single goddamn tree branch in the world and still be kicking." To empathize her point she kicked out the leg that wasn't broken.

"woah, maybe you shouldn't move too much." Hanji put her hands up. "It's okay I don't feel anything!" Y/n lifted her hand up and smacked herself right upside the head. "No pain!" Hanji smiled, "Right, I'll be sure to tell Levi how well you are doing."

Y/n shot up at her captains name. "You should tell him to come see me! It's been too long since I've seen that hot piece of ass!" Hanji frowned. "I- um... I don't think that's for the best...you seem pretty uh... preoccupied." Y/n opened her mouth to most likely say something else unexpected when the nurse reappeared, nodding to Hanji.

"I better be leaving y/n, I'm glad you are doing well. I'll see you later, yeah?' y/n nodded excitedly and Hanji let herself out.

She laughed, nodding her head. "Hot piece of ass...Levi Ackerman?" She snorted. Then, quite quickly the pieces for together and she stopped. "Oh no. Oh no. I should...wait a second, this could be quite an interesting experiment..." She smiled and turned in the direction of the lunchroom.

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"She is doing very well. So well infact she told me not to send you, she doesn't want you to worry. She'll be out before long." Hanji spoke gently to Levi who stared at his tea, his face expressionless. "What do you mean she doesn't want me to visit her? I'm her squad leader." Hanji shrugged and smiled.

"She's doing very well. You'd be wasting your time. She'll be back before you know it." Levi's eyes flashed to his friend, narrowing. The rage he had experienced when he had found her broken body...the way her teary y/c/e looked up at him... He could've exploded with rage. but he needed to stay with y/n, and that's what he had done, making sure she was safe...And now he was being told to stay away from her? His fists clenched.

Hanji seemed to see the conflict. "Why don't you try and take of yourself now? You've done enough for her." Levi only stood up, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor caused those in the lunchroom to look up at him. Leaving his tea, Levi, in his own Levi way, stormed out of the room. Hanji sat there, stirring her tea.

She raised it to her lips and smiled.

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Levi's feet practically moved on their own to the infirmary, each step more angry than the last. In angry flashbacks he felt her head pressed against his chest, her warm breathe tickling his neck, her warm orbs searching his own icy pair- he felt all of that and more...and yet she didn't want to see him?

Had those affectionate moments just been something he wished had happened instead that had actually happened. No. It couldn't have been. But the why would she try to shut him out?

He pushed open the door to the infirmary. He stood in the shadowy doorway for several seconds doing what he did best- watching.

Y/n had spent four consecutive hours counting each board- one by one. Every time she got to twenty though, she got distracted and had to start over. "Twenty-one!" "Y/l/n?" Slowly y/n's left hand, which she had used to count the board, lowered to her side. "Damnit! Lost count! At least I got to twenty one this time." Her head slowly turned to the side where her sexy captain stood, peering down at her. He looked absolutely peeved and y/n giggled.

"Well hello beautiful? Long time no see!" Levi's eyes widened the tiniest bit- but he quickly played it off. "You didn't want me here? Your own captain? Unless you forgot-" Y/n purred. "Damn you're sexy when you're mad! I don't have a clue what you're talking about but-" she shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time!" She reached up and tugged him closer.

"I- y/n-" a finger placed itself over his lips. "Shhhhh..." The finger lifted then hit him again. "Shhhhh...shhhh." y/n stared up at him with a dazed, but delighted expression. She gently stroked his face, reaching up and flicking her hair from his eyes. She smiled at his slightly dazed expression.

"how'sithangingbabey?" Levi blinked out of his daze and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand back from his mouth. "What is wrong with you?" His eyes were fairly wide and his stared at her in both worry and confusion. "I'm in love baby!" She shouted. "In love with youuuuuu!" She sang out flailing her arm and hitting him in the head.

"tch! Ow! Will you-" He paused, his brow furrowed. "You...love me?" She giggled and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhh. Don't tell Levi." He stared at her. "I am Levi, you brat." Her eyes widened. "Whoops!" She laughed. "My bad!" Levi opened his mouth to speak when the nurse appeared. She gasped upon seeing him. "Captain Levi! I didn't know you were coming!" Y/n lifted her head up to look at the young nurse.

"hey, layoff! This Raven haired beauty's taken!" She yanked him forward. The action caught him off guard and he had to catch himself before he fell. Levi grumbled before detaching himself from her. "I'll speak to you later, y/n."

"You're leaving!?" Gently he ruffled her hair, and in the most soothing voice he could muster, he said, "I'll be back later, don't worry brat." Levi Nodded to the nurse to walk him out. As the nurse turned to follow him she glanced at y/n who mouthed aggressively "he's mine!"

At the door he turned to the nurse, "y/n was in large amounts of pain, so we gave her some medicine to dull it. It seems to have a worked a little..." The two turned back to y/n who had restarted counting the boards again. "Too well."

"tch, right." The end of lips upturned into almost a smile. "Keep me updated." The nurse nodded, "Right, sir."

Casting one last glance he left the infirmary, humming a new tune softly to himself.

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Y/n sighed happily. She had finally been released, given a brace for her leg to help her walk till she was 100% and around fifteen get well cards. Her first move was definitely to go to her room. She missed her room.

She visited with Petra and the other members of her squad, making sure to show off her cool ass brace. She also made sure to say hi to Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Jean. She hadn't seen Captain Levi yet but she figured she'd find him soon- or he'd find her. The nurse mentioned that he'd visited a few times, none of which she remembered- but the thought that he cared enough to do so warmed her up.

Y/n entered the lunchroom, coming face to face with her captain and his fellow squad leader, Hanji. "Oh hi Hanji! Hello, Captain!" Hanji immediately jumped up and hugged her tightly. "Y/n! Congratulations!" Y/n smiled brightly, and hugged her back. "Thank you! I'm feeling pretty good!" Her eyes turned to Levi, who had been watching her intently. He nodded. "The squad has been waiting for your return, y/l/n." Y/n smiled. "Well, you guys won't have to wait much longer. The nurse said just a little while longer then I'm ready to go."

Levi nodded, his expression remaining stern. "I am pretty excited to finally get some sleep in my own bed though, so I'll see you all later." She turned, but a hand wrapped itself around her wrist. Levi had stood up, and was behind her. "I'll walk you there." Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, but she nodded. "The more...the, uh, merrier."

With curt goodbyes the two began their walk to y/n's room. Hanji had watched the interaction without surprise, sipping some tea.

She laughed to herself as the two went out of view, pushing up her glasses. "This experiment- a definitive success."

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"How do you feel?" Levi matched his pace with y/n, careful to make sure he wasn't moving too fast so that she wouldn't have to walk faster on her leg. "I feel good, itching to go back out there." The two stopped walking and turned so that they were right in front of each other instead of side by side.

Levi only made a clucking sound at her response. "Be sure not to push it, brat. You may be feeling fine now but-" He stopped talking when she put a hand on his chest. He frowned slightly and looked up at her from where his gaze had been.

"Thank you, for everything. I- I'm sorry I wasn't more careful. Next time I'll-" He placed his hand over her own. "Tch, there better not be a next time you stupid brat. If there is I do not I think I could handle it."

Her cheeks darkened. "Captain-" "Just Levi." She smiled at him. "Okay, just Levi." The slight upturn smile Levi had worn vanished at her bad joke into a frown. Lifting up his index finger he placed it directly over her lips.

"shhh..." She tried to speak. "shhhh." Y/n raised a brow at him. "I have lost enough in this life, y/n." Her eyes widened at the use of her first name, and his finger remained on her lips. "But, I cannot lose you, too...please." Her eyes glistened a, a familiar wetness clouding them. Slowly, Levi lowered his finger, and soon as he do so she pounced, pulling him into the tightest hug she could administer.

"You couldn't get get rid of me even if you wanted to." He hugged her back. "Good, because I do not want to." She pulled back. It was now or never, and this maybe the only chance she has left. Braving up, y/n swallowed thickly. "Hey...erm, uh Levi...I-I love you, okay?"

Levi smirked, his eyes twinkling with something close to mischievousness. "I know...you, kind of...told me already." Y/n pulled back. "No I didn't." "Tch, you did, y/n." She rolled her eyes. "I think I would remember telling someone I love them."

Levi frowned. "Are you calling me a liar?" Y/n laughed sharply. "Well, I'm not calling you a truther." She turned and began to walk away. "Even if I did, you could at least say it back you jerk!"

With reflexes faster than a blink of an eye, Levi had pulled her back and into his arms. She stared at him, wide eyed. They were mere inches apart now. Never had she been this close to him, and she could clearly see every inch of his face. The silver twinkle of his eyes, his long lashes, the pretty pink of his thin lips. He was so beautiful, like a statue of a god. Y/n blinked, realizing she had been staring a bit longer than innocent and met his gaze.

Levi only raised a brow, seemingly unaffected by their closeness. "I love you too, brat." He said finally, and Y/n relaxed into his arms, much like before. "Good, good. It makes doing this a lot easier." She placed her hand to his cheek, closed her eyes and then she closed the gap.

He sighed into her, clutching her tighter to him. It seemed as if he had been waiting almost as long as y/n had because it was if the flood gates had opened. She dipped her head to get to more of him and he grunted softly, easily letting her. She reached up, finding his soft undercut. She ran her finger threw his soft locks (just as soft as she imagined) and gently tugged. Levi opened his mouth a bit more in response, and she quickly took advantage of his action. Her tongue slipped in, and despite himself and who he was- he gasped.

Maybe this was all a bit quick but hell, she'd been around the man for going on a year now with nothing but this to show. It was quite upsetting, especially because it seemed as if Levi had no idea his effect on women, especially y/n. You can bet on your life, however, she was going to take advantage of it now and teach him exactly what he meant.

He grunted again and pulled his arm to her neck, clutching it softly. She hummed into his mouth, biting his lip and pulling. She loved him, everything about him, and almost as much as that- she wanted him. Now, in almost every way she could've imagined, she had him.

She was so wrapped up in him, y/n put her unbraced leg around his waist, trying to get somehow even closer than before but unfortunately she neglected to remember that her braced leg couldn't handle that much pressure yet and it collapsed under their weight. It sent both her and her lover crashing to the ground.

"oof!" "Tch! Hell!" Levi landed on top of her with a thud. The two shared a look. Levi had messy unkept hair, flushed cheeks and red, abused lips- all thanks to y/n. But she doubted she looked much better. "Are you okay, brat?" "Yeah, sorry. Looks like you made my legs weak." She smiled crookedly.

Levi only sighed and lifted her up. "Tch', Keeping you alive will be much harder than I expected." Y/n laughed and wrapped her arms around him, she was beginning to enjoy him carrying her around bridal style. "What can I say? I wasn't built for the weak."

"No," He hoisted her closer to his chest. "No, you are not."

They resumed their journey to her room. "But at least you are mine, brat."

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A/n: whoo! That was a lot more than I expected to do. I hope y'all like it and don't forget that comments and critism are always welcomed. I tried to make this to where it doesn't really involve any timeline and it's just kind of an extra thing. Thanks for reading!

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[ren-c-leyn]

The Shackles of Time Chapter 24 - The Stormy Road Ahead part 7

 This is definitely the longest arc of the series so far. We’re past the halfway mark, though, and our heroes are finally on their way to get the heck off this road.

 This chapter turned out to be 1,706 words long, so it’s a shorter one.

 As far as trigger warnings go, this is an angstier chapter. We touch up on Merle’s backstory again, so there’s hints of a past death and violence, but no actual deaths of violence occur in the chapter. There’s also 1 mention of blood, but no one is bleeding, it’s connect to the implied death. Beyond that, there’s nothing I can think of. No swearing, no flashy fights, ect.

 Looking for a previous chapter, the next chapter, or just want to start from the beginning? No problem! Click here for the chapter masterlist.

And with that, happy reading~!

 Merle sat in the front seat beside Elduin. It was strange, seeing the forest from this angle. This had been Arlen’s seat for the entire trip, until now.... Now he was in the last wagon with Glenn and Zephyr. Unconscious, but alive. Night had also changed places. She was sitting beside Sig now, casually sharpening her daggers while they shot her wary glances.

 Perhaps they still believed her to be a ghost? Merle found the thought vaguely amusing. Only vaguely. As low as her spirits had sunk, there wasn’t much humor left in her.

 Darkness had fallen thickly as night descended. The air had cooled and the dampness from the storm drove that chill down into her bones. It reminded her of melting snow running down the mountains. Refreshing for a moment and then biting and miserable. The clouds lingered with the cold, blotting out most of the sky. There was only a hazy dimness where the moon was hanging on the horizon.

 The storm had mostly quieted, as though being lulled to sleep by the stars. Though every once in a while, she caught the low grumble of thunder or saw a distant flash of lightening. Nature’s small protests and struggles to resist sleep’s call.

 It all felt surreal, almost like a dream.

 Unfortunately, it was not. She was exhausted, muscles sore and shield arm bruised from staving off the troll’s savage attack; Arlen and Cherrenth were wounded, the horses were tired and beginning to stumble, she could hear the calls of monsters and unfamiliar animals beginning to echo in the dark, and she could only see as far as the dull, sickly orange glow of the lanterns hanging off the wagons could illuminate. It was a dangerous situation, one that put them at great risk. Yet the wood was not yielding. If anything, it was thicker than ever. They had no good place to turn around, stopping in the middle of the night with the monsters so agitated would only bring more misfortune, among a dozen other reasons or excuses Elduin had told her when she had asked.

 That had been some time ago, and they hadn’t spoken since. Merle was far from being in a conversational mood and Elduin’s attempts at starting conversations had been slowing considerably with his own stress and exhaustion.

 “Is this still better than dealing with the merchant’s guild?” she ask at last, head resting heavily against her spear while her eyes kept scanning the treeline.

 “It’s about even now,” Elduin answered, voice dull and lacking the energy she had grown used to. “Have you ever dealt with a merchant’s guild before?”

 “I can’t say that I have. There isn’t one on the Auroral Mountains, or any where on the Ice Plains below. There aren’t many guilds in my homeland at all, not much of a use for them.” She paused, memories flashing through her mind like lightening. The next words she spoke were softer, but tired. “I’ve dealt with a bad adventurer’s guild before, though.”

 Elduin hummed, nodding a few times.

 “Perhaps you can understand, then...” he said quietly, as though he were speaking a secret to the breeze. His voice trailed off for a moment, eyes growing distant, before he pressed on. “Merchants aren’t all an honorable lot, not like the ones that risked danger to bring supplies to the people fighting in, or fleeing from, the Mad War. We aren’t all like my mentor. Where there’s gold, there’s Trouble and his Well of Sorrows, or so the saying goes. Some get overtaken by greed, willing to deal in dark deeds for coin, willing to help hurt people or even spill blood themselves, for coin. Some, however, crave something even more sinister: control. The coin is only a means by which to influence and dominate people, and people like those are the ones that run the merchant’s guild.”

 “And you don’t strike me as the sort to roll over for such people.”

 He flashed her a fragile smile.

 “Nor do you, if I may say so.”

 “I am not, and that’s why I am here.”

 He hummed and nodded, smile slipping off his face and into something thoughtful and tired.

 ‘It is why we’re all here, for better and worse. The merchant’s guild has obstacles and fees for every little thing, trying to push the rest of us out and make people dependent on them for goods.”

 “I’m surprised such things are allowed.”

 “In some regions they are not, and this one is tightening the reins on the guilds more than some, but there will always be ways around the rules for those who seek ills ends. Even if there is no legal grounds, they’d still find a way. It’s in their nature.”

 Merle let out a long sigh, the words striking a painful chord with her.

 “I understand all too well.”

 “I had a feeling you unfortunately would.... Adventuring guilds with no honor are similar to merchants with no honor, in their own ways, yes?”

 “Unfortunately,” she sighed again, too tired to even consider trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

 There was a brief lull in the conversation again. The creaking of the wagon wheels and swaying lamps felt like they were going to echo on forever. Then, he spoke up again, a cautious edge to his voice as it cut through the background noise.

 “Which guild was it? The one that came before the Dawn Isle.”

 She paused for a moment, eyes still glued to the forest.

 “The Howling Ice guild. If you find yourself in my homeland, avoid them at all costs. Even the bandits are better. They at least won’t sacrifice their own to Death for a handful more gold.”

 She heard a sharp inhale at her side. Shock, surprise, horror. The usual reactions. Soon would come the questions, none of which she had the energy to answer. She braced herself for the flood of them, preparing the cold tone to stop them in their tracks.

 “... Noted.”

 The one word answer caught her so off guard that she finally tore her gaze off the forest to glance at him.

 He had that look, that familiar gleam of curiosity and horror in his pink eyes. No doubt the questions were on his tongue, but he did not speak them. He didn’t ask her the question she still wasn’t ready to answer. No for him, not for Wyndulin or Bramble, not for Zephyr and Glenn, or even Night and Arlen.

 It was still too raw, too fresh, like the blood was still melting the snow. It was why she didn’t talk about it, didn’t talk about them. That den of treacherous wolves that had killed her mentor, that robbed this world of their voice and cut their glorious story short... She’d never forgive them. Never. Even when she was nothing but a half-remembered story told around a campfire out of nothing but tradition, she’d never forgive them.

 Relief washed over her when it seemed like Elduin was, indeed, going to keep his questions to himself. The groan of the rolling wagons dominated the conversation again. Whether he had seen something in her reaction to the probing, or was simply too tired to pry, she couldn’t say. She only knew that she was grateful for it.

 The wind changed directions, rustling the bows of the trees. For a brief moment, it felt like home. Almost smelled like home too, except for those lovely floral notes that the mountain couldn’t hold onto for long and this place lacked the distinctive scent of dragon stone. Merle breathed in deep, letting the night sooth her for a moment.

 “Will your friend be alright?” Elduin asked.  “Zephyr says he will, with time and rest.”  “You don’t sound so convinced.”  Merle sighed.  “I can’t argue with a mage on matters of magic.”  “But you still question.”  She shrugged, busying herself with scanning the treeline again.  “I suppose I am worried. Seeing him collapse...” she trailed off for a moment, feeling her mood sink yet again as the mental image of Arlen surrounded in strange-colored flames flashed through her mind again. “A mage would know better than me what magic can do, it’s rare on the mountains, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know serious wounds when they happen. You don’t collapse if it isn’t serious. Still, Zephyr says it’ll be fine. Something about magic exhaustion.... I don’t understand it, though, and it’s frustrating no know how bad it truly is or what happened, or even if there’s anything I could do to help him.”

 She couldn’t see him, but she was sure he was nodding again.

 “I believe I understand where you’re coming from. It’s frustrating not being able to do anything for a friend in trouble besides waiting and seeing what comes of it. Still, for what it’s worth, I believe he is in good hands. So, for now, let us hope that Zephyr is correct and your friend will recover quickly.”

Merle hummed her agreement, but left the conversation there.

 Time passed slowly, bleeding from one long moment into the next. She couldn’t quite decide which was worse, the waiting for something to go horribly wrong, for one of those shadows that danced through her vision to jump out at them; or the monotony, the rocking of the wagons, the squeaking of the wheels, the clomping of hooves and the tired, droning hum of the driver in the far back. It was all wearing on her, all fueling the frustrations and fraying her nerves. It all made her grind her teeth and cling to her spear like it was her last hope.

 Dawn began to cut through the sky, lighting the clouds ablaze in her vibrant colors. Merle watched the deep blacks and dull greys light up, as though catching fire. The oranges, reds, pinks, and yellows spread throughout them like wildfire as sunbeams began to tear through the storm clouds. Yet, the deep grays lingered, threatening to bring forth rain, lightening, and fury that both matched and defied the sun.

 The sunrise was beautiful today, at least. With Luck’s blessing, maybe it’d bring some good fortune their way. At least, Merle hoped it would....

~

Tag list, feel free to ask to be added or removed at any time -

@perasperaadastrawriting​ @queerlilchinchin​ @dragon-swords-prophecies​ @catinthesun2​ @talesfromaurea​

[samcrit]

if i still carried the mental scars from my brother calling me a vampire and threatening to kill me, when that same brother showed up with a new vampire bff i would do way worse than sending a trusted if admittedly unstable family friend to check up on him after murders matching his mo started happening. and i would DEFINITELY loudly gloat the moment said vampire bff showed up at a funeral which was implied to be for one of his new victims because he’d recently fallen off the wagon, just like i’d always predicted. but then i’m not sam, and i’ve always known sam is a better person than me 😌

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

[systlinsideblog]

Part 4

I still lived. 

I was, I thought, greatly in the minority. The woman Systlin had judged warrior after warrior, and warrior after warrior had met his end at a quiva's blade. 

A great many of the sentences were carried out by the hands of the freed slave girls of the warriors. The number of these astounded me, as did the ferocity with which many of the girls fell upon their masters. 

It is a Gorean saying that a woman cannot be free until she has been a slave. It is said that a woman wishes to be conquered, that she cannot respect any man save for the man who can reduce her to nothing. 

The girls fell upon their masters with a fury I have rarely seen, and blood flowed until the grass was slick and red with it. 

A few girls did not take up the quiva. These men, once sentence of death was passed, the she-sleen on the Ubar's robe killed herself. Her face was untroubled by this, unworried, and there was even a hint of vicious pleasure in those cold eyes as she swung the sword to remove their heads.

Those warriors who had taken Free Companions and who had children, the she-sleen ordered all material goods be split equally between the  Free Companions, the children, and the freed slave girls. There were many sour faces among the Tuchuk women at that, but to my shock many more who accepted it without question. 

When night neared, scarce three dozen warriors of the Tuchuk still lived, myself included. It was us and only us who had not admitted to owning slaves, and who had no slaves to call out our names. 

A very few men..two or three, in all...had been spared by the request of their slave girls. These men were whipped, and the she-sleen commanded ash be rubbed into the whip wounds. 

"I would have them remember." She had said, eyes cold and face passionless, even as the warriors held back cries of pain. "I want them to remember their crimes, and to remember me." 

Those of us who had survived the slaughter had been unchained and taken to wagons, and allowed to eat and rest. 

"So." Kamchak had survived the culling, and his face was set and cold. "We are free, then?"

"You are not slaves." Systlin had smiled a little, a cold smile that did not reach her eyes. "But if you seek to flee, or to move against me...well." 

Behind her, I could see women chaining hunting sleen outside the wagons. Each was given clothing to smell; I noticed with a start a discarded tunic of my own among the items. The sleen began to pull and hiss, eyes bright. 

"Say, rather, that you are prisoners for the time." Systlin continued. "I've much to do, and I've no time to be worrying about one of you burying a knife in my back in my sleep." Another humorless smile. "I'm not fool enough to think that all...or any...of you are paragons of virtue. I'll get the truth in time."

Kamchak spat. "You," he informed her, "Are the most disagreeable and wrenched wench I've ever had the misfortune to meet. There will come a day, where you meet a man to bring you to heel." A smile. "I wish to be there to see it."

I felt my heart sink; they were unwise words, but then Kamchak was Tuchuk. 

To my surprise, the woman Systlin threw back her head and laughed, as if at a wonderful joke. 

"Ahhh!" She wiped tears from her eyes at last, as I stared, stunned. "When I find my way home, I will tell Foicatch that." Another laugh. "A woman isn't brought to heel. We can choose to be a partner, or to bide our time and pretend until the time is right, but brought to heel? HA! You saw that, I think, today." Another terrible grin. "I saw your faces, when the women turned on your warriors. You did not expect that, did you?"

"Foicatch?" Kamchak, ever keen, inquired. 

"My husband." Systlin said this lightly, easily. "Father of my daughter."

"Good god, you are married?" The words were out of me before I could think better of them. I tried to imagine what bedding such a woman would be like, and thought to myself that it would be much like the risk taken by the male of the praying mantis of Earth; what sort of man would marry such a creature?

"Yes. Goodnight." She shut the wagon behind her. 

There was a moment of silence. Then, Kamchak spoke. 

"It is probably a bad time, Tarl Cabot," he said. "To mention that Kutaituchuk was not the Ubar of the Tuchuks." 

"What?"

 It was surprising, Systlin thought, how many of the Tuchuk women had been willing...eager, even...to take up weapons and stand guard at her wagon. 

Not to her. No. On Ellinon, the children of the Lady would have found the ideas of the men of this 'Gor' incomprehensible, unlawful, hearsay, and downright suicidal. But to many of the women of Gor themselves, Systlin thought, the sheer thrill that came when picking up a blade or spear was new. 

She tried to picture what would have happened had Stellead found herself in this shithole of a world. Death, absolutely; her aunt had little talent in any form of Power, but she had won her place as Arms Master of Stellas Keep and as a Commander of the Bloodguard through sweat and skill. 

Even now, Systlin could only best her aunt blade to blade perhaps two matches out of three. 

If anyone...man, woman, even the gods themselves...had tried to bring Stellead to heel, she'd spit in their eye and disembowel them. 

Systlin smiled to herself. It was a stubbornness and force of will that she herself shared, and that her aunt, mother, and father had always fostered. 

The women did not know quite how to hold a spear, of course. Systlin had tried to gently insist that she didn't need an armed guard, more because she knew full well that they'd not yet be up to a fight than because she believed that. But they had insisted, and in the end she had simply advised them to stick to knives for the time being. 

The rugs and cushions and furs in the wagon were quite comfortable, and she was quite tired, but sleep was elusive. 

All of this...the rugs and furs, the sound of animals outside, the sound of low voices from the camp, the smell of dried dung fires...it was too similar to her time with the Rabi, with Sura, before Sura had become Queen of the Sands, when she'd simply been the leader of her clan. 

Sura's laugh, bright as a bell, and the taste of pomegranate wine. The light of the brazier catching glints of copper and red off of Sura's black hair, which gleamed almost blue in sunlight. 

The rugs beside her were cold, and she suddenly felt very alone. 

Her throne would be empty. She'd held the North together through sheer grit, guile, charisma, and the edge of a sword, and beaten it back into working shape after the War of the Crown had nearly destroyed it. 

Her daughter was only a girl. Foicatch, dear Foicatch, would do his best, she knew, but he was at heart a soldier, not a monarch. 

Her sister would step in, at least. 'Sina was capable. But she didn't have the fear and respect of the lords of the realm and the love of the common folk the way Systlin did. 

"Why am I here?" She whispered this in the dark, at the roof of the wagon. 

No one answered. 

"I have my own place. People who will miss me." She scowled at the dark, and anger rose hot and furious. "Responsibilities! I've not got time for...this!" She waved a hand randomly, indicating everything about this strange place. 

No one answered. But Systlin had met gods in her time, and she knew that if they cared to, they could hear. 

"Send me back!" She hissed this at the darkness, not sure who she was angry with. "Have I not done enough? Send me home! I do not want this!"

Nothing. 

Exhaustion, at last, won out, and she slept. 

She was, in her dreams, not surprised at her visitor. 

The Lady's face could never be seen. The most that could be gathered was an impression of poise, of stately calm. It was impossible even to place what color Her hair was, or her skin, though the hair floated around her like a cloud and she was nude. 

"You?" In her dream Systlin could still feel her anger, though it was a hollow ghost of what she'd felt while awake. 

Me. It wasn't a spoken word; it was felt. 

"I should have known at once." Systlin growled. "Have I not done enough? Can I have no peace?"

A laugh, chiming and musical, but which shook the very bones. You were never made for peace. 

And that was true. Systlin knew it, felt the truth of it in her soul. It was impossible to deny it, not before the Lady. 

She felt an answering whisper in her soul, as the slumbering power of what had once been the Lord of Night and Void, the God of Endings, the Fallen One, God of Conflict, Lord of Justice and retribution, stirred within her. 

Sister. The word was pointed, and almost mocking. Who denies still that you are. 

"I saved my world. It needs me; you know that damned well. I don't want to be a god."

Want. This word was definitely mocking. There is no want, sister. There is 'must'. My brother failed his duty, and corrupted it. You hold it now. In time, you will realize. Goddess of War, Goddess of Justice, Goddess of Protection, Goddess of Night, Goddess of Death, Goddess of Endings and rebirth. I do your duties for now, sister...but not forever. 

Systlin clenched her fists, and pointedly ignored this. "My people need me, damn you."

They are safe. 

Systlin closed her eyes. "You'll not send me back until I finish here." It wasn't a question. 

You could send yourself back whenever you wished, if you accepted your new place.

Systlin glared.

Another smile. So stubborn. No, I will not. Good luck, sister.

She woke. 

Within her, the power of the god she'd killed stirred again, and was once more silent. 

It was morning. She could see the sunlight under the door, and could hear the cheerful bustle of camp outside. 

"Gods damn it all to the pits." She muttered.

 The hardest thing about training the women of the Tuchuk in combat, Systlin soon found, was ingrained survival habits. 

Her aunt, in the long-ago days when Systlin had been a lanky youth still growing into her arms and legs and new to a training sword, had always said that the hardest thing about training older students was fixing ingrained and detrimental habits. 

Stellead had been referring to habits picked up from lesser arms masters...letting your shield drop, footwork that was less than flawless. Systlin wondered how her aunt would have dealt with this, as she interrupted a woman to correct her form and the former slave cringed and dropped at her feet, begging forgiveness. 

"I am sorry!" The woman was almost tearful. Systlin had been angry since she came to this cursed place, and she felt that knot of red rage flare. "I am sorry, I forgot..."

"It's all right." Systlin squatted, propping her elbows on her thighs. "Hush. It's all right. Here now." She offered her hand, and the girl hesitantly took it. Systlin stood, drawing the girl back to her feet, and then bent, picked up the dropped wooden sword, and offered it back hilt first. The girl took it. 

"Do you know," Systlin said, keeping her voice light and conversational, "how long it took me to become good with a sword?"

The woman blinked. "I...no, Ubara." 

"I started training at thirteen." Systlin smiled fondly in memory. "I first killed a wraithen at nineteen. I first killed men in battle at twenty five. that was two and a half decades and three wars ago." She tossed her own wooden sword in the air; it spun precisely one turn before she caught it again by the hilt. "Training takes time, and practice. You will make mistakes. I will never fault you for them; you simply correct them and keep training." 

The girl nodded slowly. Systlin had given the same speech to many girls over the last three weeks, but the habits learned to survive the men of this Pit of a planet went deep. It would be slow going yet; she knew that. 

"Fifty?" The question was unexpected. 

"Hm?"

"You are fifty?"

"Close enough, yes."

"Your world then has brews of youth as well?" The girl seemed curious. 

Systlin blinked. "I...no. But we're descended from the Lady, the goddess and mother of all. We live long." She considered the woman before her; she appeared to be perhaps in her late twenties. "How old are you?" 

"Oh. Sixty, I think? My masters have given me the brews of youth three times." 

The yawning pit of cold fury in Systlin's soul howled. 

"How many years of that," Systlin kept her voice carefully level. "Were you kept as property?"

"Since I was...oh, sixteen?"

The world went abruptly white before her eyes. The yawning spectre of the power she'd pulled from the soul of a slain god roared; goddess of justice, goddess of protection....

Fury, she was furious, and for a moment she knew, knew that it would be so, so easy, to rise on the wind and come down on the people who had done this. To become a storm, a furious reckoning, to scour this world clean in a night...

...No. No no NO. I will not. I have to teach them. They must take it themselves, for all I might lead them. Or it will all be for nothing...

By the time she fought it down and came back to herself she was on her knees, clutching the trampled grass with white knuckles. Sweat was soaking her, as it never did even if she fought all day. Her breath was coming short and sharp. 

"Ubara!" The voices were panicked, and she realized dimly that there were at least a dozen women around her, patting at her cheeks, offering water. 

She looked up, and saw worry, and fear, and as the god-soul inside her stirred, she saw more. She saw desperation, and so, so much pain, oceans of pain, seas of injustice, rivers of innocent blood spilled. 

And as the women of the Tuchuk looked at her, worried, she saw deep in their eyes hope. 

"Ubara?" It was  Sabra , the brave girl, who'd taken quite well to a spear. "Ubara?"

"I'm all right." She wasn't, not quite; her voice sounded rough to her own ears. "I'm all right. Keep practicing."

The hovered until she got to her feet, but once it was determined that the Ubara was not about to die, they slowly went back to their drills. 

Systlin moved a bit away, absently climbed the nearest wagon, and sat cross legged, looking out over the makeshift training grounds without really seeing. 

She'd always been a protector. Since they'd been children, and her sister's dreams had driven little 'Sina to cry and scream in her sleep. Since her father had nurtured that, and taught her that a Queen's people were her children, that her sacred duty was to protect and serve them. 

Since she'd torn the North back from the hands of the greedy and the corrupt, who'd sought to carve it apart for power and profit. 

Since she'd faced a god, putting her own body and soul between her people and the Fallen Lord himself. 

Since she'd faced a second goddess, and demanded the Lady return her daughter from beyond death. 

It was who she was, in the end. She knew it in her bones, even as she looked down at these strange people in this strange world, and felt it, that what she must do. 

"Pitting hells." She muttered this softly, and somewhere felt the Lady smile. 

 For some weeks now, the routine had been much the same; Kamchak and I, and the other men, were kept chained and carefully watched. Some men, after a measure of time should they demonstrate a contrite enough demeanor, had their chains removed and were allowed to move about the camp; they did so, casting their eyes aside from those of us who were still chained. 

I watched one man brush a bosk one evening, and oil its hooves. A slave girl should do such work, and he was clumsy at it. A girl was watching, wearing the leather trousers that had become fashionable among the women. Her hair, which was very long, was braided up and pinned in a coil on the top of her head; it was unflattering, I thought. She corrected him, and showed him how it was done properly, and he meekly listened. She smiled at him, and I thought that in silks and with hair loose she must have been quite a beauty. He smiled back, a bit tentatively. 

I snorted in disdain. There are always men that are so, those that are more akin to women than true men. 

She heard, and turned on me. There was a fierceness in her eyes. 

"See." She pointed at me, mocking. "He thinks himself better than you, Sarthak. He thinks himself too good for work about the camp, thinks it should be done only by women in chains." She laughed, and spit in my direction. "And yet he is still a prisoner in chains, while you are a free man. So who, then, is the better man?"

Sarthak grinned at me. He wore no scars, and scant weeks ago he had likely been unregarded utterly by the Tuchuk. 

"You speak true words, Lena." He agreed, and turned his back on me. She gave another laugh, and she turned back to their task. I realized with some surprise that the looks Lena was favoring the unscarred young man with were warm. 

"Disgraceful." Kamchak was chained to the other axle of the wagon, and he too was regarding the young man with distaste. "Have they made a slave of you already, boy?"

"He's a free man." Lena didn't look around. "All free men and women of able body must do their share of work. You shall too, should you ever be trusted and set free." 

Kamchak spat again, and leaned his head back against the wagon wheel. 

"It was a sad day," said the Ubar of the Tuchuk, "That that she-sleen came to the Tuchuk, Tarl Cabot." 

"Yes." I agreed. I wondered still how many she had slain in that night, through sorcery. The pyres had burned for two days and nights. 

We watched the girl teach the young man to grease the axles of the wagon. We had little else to do. 

As the evening meal was brought, we were finally given some surprise to rouse us from the deadly tedium that had marked the weeks. 

The she-sleen had a cloak now, made of red larl-hide. She wore it pinned at a jaunty angle, thrown back over one shoulder. She was wearing a leather vest over her strange scale armor today. She regarded us for a moment, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. I'd examined that weapon many times now, and I still could not place the make of it; it was no Gorean style I knew of, and the silver-blue of the blade was unlike any alloy I knew on Earth. It was somewhat shorter than most blades I had seen, perhaps thirty-six inches in all in total length. A great polished amethyst was set into the pommel, the most darkly violet stone I'd ever seen. 

It was viciously sharp. I knew this. 

"You." She said to me. The word was said in Gorean; she was learning quickly, it seemed, for all her strange magic did seem to translate for her. "You'll come with me." She nodded at the girl following her...I recognized her, I realized, it was the girl Dina I had seen around camp before, the slave reputed to be the best at the running game...and Dina brought out a ring of keys. 

Dina's hair was braided, as was Systlin's. Dina wore leather trousers, as did Systlin. Dina wore a quiva, as  Systlin wore her long dagger, and had stood and rested her hand on the hilt of the quiva in conscious imitation of the strange woman. 

It seemed to be a fashion, I noted, that many of the freed slave girls and even many of the Tuchuk women had taken up. 

I said nothing.  It had not been a request, of course, and I had little choice. My leg was healing, but I was far from my top form.

My chains were let loose. I stood, with some difficulty, and Dina's help. She was, I noticed with some surprise, quite strong. There were muscles through her shoulders that I'd never before seen so developed on any Gorean woman, and her hands were tough. 

I knew that well; my own hands were callused thus from the hilt of sword and the haft of lance. It was surprising that a slave girl had developed such in such a short time. 

I was led to the great wagon that Systlin had claimed as her own; the wagon that I knew, now, was not the true wagon of the Ubar of the Tuchuks. 

Inside, a meal of roast bosk had been laid ready for us. Systlin sat cross legged on the cushions; the maleness of the gesture still grated at my sensibilities. Seeing it preformed by one who might look quite well kneeling in silks was wrong, quite wrong. Dina helped me, somewhat ungracefully and with some pain, to sit. 

Systlin did not touch the food at once. She was watching me, and the gaze was keen and direct. I said nothing, but examined her in return. 

I am an observant man. It is one of my strengths. But I could gather little from her, save that which I had already deduced; she was strongly built, for a woman, all solid wiry muscle. Her hands were tough, those of a swordsman. Her gaze was intelligent, and I could not place her origin; the bone structure and shape of her eyes was subtly foreign, but not of any place I knew. She could have been beautiful, perhaps, were she arrayed instead in silk. She never, I noted, let her weapons stray far from her hand. 

She was used, I thought, to fighting. Used even to being attacked in the most secure of surroundings. She had said before that many men had tried to kill her; what sort of creature was this that sat before me?

"You're wondering why I brought you here." She broke the silence. Her tone was crisp, and it was not a question.

I said nothing. 

"The answer is because you are not of these people. I know that the Wagon Peoples usually slay outsiders. That means you are unusual, and I'm wagering it means you're quite skilled at arms." She examined me again, much as I'd examined her, and I saw her noting the callus of my hands. "Your accent is not like that of these people, as well. They say you are Koroban, wherever the fuck that is. I've heard that you have, apparently, traveled."

I said nothing. 

"That makes you potentially useful." She informed me of this without a hint of emotion. "I know very little of this world, and while I'm learning, I suspect that you know more than most."

I had heard her say such things before. I am quite well acquainted with such matters, of course, being once of Earth. "Of this world?" I said at last. 

"Of this world." A horrible humorless smile. "You know full well I'm not from here. This whole place is a nightmare and a travesty. You're lucky my aunt Stellead is not here; she’s less merciful than I. She'd have castrated the lot of your slavers and rapists, slow roasted the genitals, and fed them back to you a bite at a time. And to be honest, I did consider that." 

I could not help but cringe at the thought. 

"From what I have gathered," she continued, "No part of this world is not at the mercy of monsters who hold humans as livestock and use them as they please. It's that, I think, that I've been brought here to end. And you, Tarl Cabot, are going to give me information as I do it." 

The shock of her words was immediate. "Sent? The priest-kings...."

The wave of a hand, dismissive. "I've heard of them. No. Gods, no. I don't care a whit for them. If they interfere I'll deal with them. No, it's a power higher than them that's sent me." 

I blinked at her in shock. The priest-kings are feared and worshiped as gods on Gor, with reason. They are advanced beyond any human designs, and are exceptionally powerful. Yet I saw not a trace of fear in her. 

"They are very powerful," I said. "And your powers may bring their wrath yet." I hoped it, of course. They can burn a man to ashes on a whim.

A laugh. Another cold, humorless laugh. "Maybe." She said. "But I've slain gods before. What are a few more? No. You are going to give me information, Tarl Cabot, on this world. And then I am going to conquer it. Every last damned corner of it."

I stared at her in horror, and she simply smiled in return.

[peachnewt]

Midnight Snack - Gingerbread 1

Merry Christmas, ya’ll!  

I wanted to do something for the holidays involving my slow burn boys.  Somehow, this rose to the top.  Here is the first taste of Louis and Will switching places in the pred/prey relationship, while in a fantasy setting.  ^_^

Midnight Snack - Gingerbread

by peachnewt

Part 1

Once upon a time, a mountain in the West grew so tall that it's peaks, covered in icy snow, would reflect the sun's light like a candle, lighting the valley with a golden glow an hour after sunset.  Thus, the mountain was called the Lantern Pillars and the inhabitants of the valley benefitted from the extra hours of light to store away supplies for the harsh winter and pursue artistic endeavors. Buildings and towers stretched like candles ever upwards, bearing banners and stained glass that could be seen in any blizzard.  The valley, called Wax Wake, became the jewel of the Pillars, a destination for many nobles and merchant passing through the mountains with their exotic goods.  

But one area of the Pillars lay in the lee of the various crags and slopes in the mountain range; a rocky, forested area called the Greyfells.  In that dim and cold stretch of land lived a giant name Louis, the Grey.

Louis was an imposing figure, standing almost eighty feet high with wide shoulders, ice gray eyes, and a silvery blond mane of hair.  This wasn't a "fee-fi-fo-fum" giant that barreled around the countryside in rough furs, demanding maidens to keep his cave tidy, or oxen to feed his hunger, or gold to upkeep his lifestyle.  His mother raised him and his two older brothers better.  He kept his cave in semi-chaotic order with baskets and hangers for his possessions, did his own laundry, varied his diet with vegetables and other forage-foods so he didn't need to spend as much money on meat, and he had a yearly stipend for protecting mountain passes from bandits and clearing out rubble for merchant caravans.  

But Louis still wore rough furs.  Why wear fine wool or linens when they would tear on the slopes?  Plus it was cold up there.

And Louis did have a temper. While he didn't boom "fee-fi-fo-fum", he did grumble like a storm when the local coffee house didn't count out enough beans to last until his next monthly grocery run.  It was basic math, take the normal about of coffee a person needed and scale it up by sixteen.  

When one passed through the mountain trails they saw deep pits from fists, slashes of red, and the strike of an axe blade bigger than a wagon. Sometimes, at night when the Lantern Pillars had dimmed the townsfolk could see sparks flying in the Greyfells, an axe hitting stone.  They heard tale of blood-thirst and violence from a surviving bandit that surrendered himself to the authorities in Wax Wake after the band he had been allied with had been destroyed.  

At one point in the early Autumn, Louis left for a week.  "Visiting family", he said to those left in charge of the mountain pass. When he came back, he had dark bags under his eyes, a large sack over his shoulder, and a posture akin to a starved wolf.  

"I'm working on something important," he growled at the human guards.  "I'll do my rounds, but don't expect anything else unless it's an emergency."  

It had been customary for Wax Wake to hire the giant to help clean the stain glass of their towers, since he could reach them so easily, and hang the new banners for the winter celebrations.  They dared not ask this year.  Louis stayed in the Greyfells.  

No One with any brains or sense of self preservation wandered near the Greyfells, or pried into Louis the Grey's business.  

***

"If I had any brains I would have stayed with a caravan and waited until morning," William hissed to himself and the blizzard.  His booted feet sunk into another snowdrift.

William had been traveling with a group of builders and craftsmen on their way to Wax Wake to peddle their wears and skills.  It was a rite of passage to try their hands in the jeweled city.  But their wagon axel broke halfway down the mountain.  They hadn't the supplies to repair it and civilization was half a day away.  William had offered to find help, and went off in the direction of Wax Wake.  Except a blizzard had descended; white, blinding, howling, turning him around until he could not tell north from south.  

Night had fallen.  William, still lost, squinted for any sign of light in the darkness.  He tucked his hands under his armpits, sinking his chin into the scarf around his neck.  

His nose, not his sight, had been his salvation.  William smelled cloves, ginger, and cinnamon on the breeze.  Cookies? William thought.  Spicebread? He hadn't eaten since noon and his stomach growled, bidding him onward.  

He saw a faint light in the same direction as the scent.  Shelter, he hoped.

William wove through the trees and scratching branches until the bramble broke into a clearing pure white. The wind died in the circle, the snow and moonlight pristine as it lit up a lopsided brown shack caked in bits of white.  William didn't care how badly made the domicile was, it was shelter from the cold, hopefully occupied with someone that could help him, and feed him.  

"Hello?"  William trudged on towards the shack.  Warm spice hung in the air along with the overwhelming aroma of sugar.  And the snow under his feet felt different, more like sand.  

He peered into the shack. A stub of a candle, as big around as his thigh, had been lit and took up the majority of the wooden floor.  No furniture, no people aside from him.  

"Anyone home?"

What an odd house, he mused.  Stepping inside, the smell of gingerbread surrounded him, yet the only piece of gingerbread he saw was a stale hunk the size of his fist to the side of the candle.  If no one was home, they wouldn't be grudge him a bit of gingerbread from the floor.

While chewing on the hunk of gingerbread, delicious, he examined the rest of the rough house. The vaulted roof had gaps filled in with a white paste burned from the candle.  His eye followed the wall, attached to the roof with a tilt, leaving another gap filled in with white paste.  The house wasn't hewn from stone, brick, or wood.  Was it wattle and daub?  Clay?    

Will tested a ragged, brown wall, scratching it with a cold fingernail.  "It's gingerbread?"  

The tiny scratch, however, was enough to test the structural integrity of the shack and find it wanting.

Down came the walls, burying William in giant slabs of gingerbread, snuffing the candle.  

---

Will woke stuck between a pool of slowly cooling wax and a slab of gingerbread pinning him across his stomach.  Will gasped, trying to fill his lungs.  Despite its confectionary nature, the slab of what had once been a roof, or perhaps a wall, could not be shifted no matter how much he struggled.  Pinned as he was, he couldn't eat his way out either.  He would either freeze to death, or suffocate.

Will bleated out into the night for help until his throat felt like sand and the wax under him had hardened.  Then he heard a rumble, vibrating the ground and making the edge of the roof dig deeper into his belly.

An avalanche?  

Instead Will heard of roar of frustration and the slab over him was lifted as if it was light as a feather.

A giant face, bearded, blond, and full of icy fury stared at him.  The whispered giant of the Greyfells dressed in furs and breath of frost.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?!"  

***

Louis had stomped through the forest towards the protective circle he had set up for his project.  He carried a bag of red candies and a pot of icing with a small trowel.  If he could get all of the decorations up tonight then he could sleep in the next day. When he arrived, he saw a set of footprints in the pristine snow, and the gingerbread house collapsed.  Of course when he lifted the roof he'd find a meddling human.  

"Are you fuckin' kidding me!?"  Louis snapped.  

"What?" breathed the human.  

Louis tossed the gingerbread roof to the ground where it broke into four pieces, and then pulled the brown haired human out with one hand.  He stared at little menace, eye to beady eye. "I've been trying to keep this damned house together with sugar paste and a prayer, and then you come along and nibble on it like a fuckin' mouse until it falls?!"

"It was an accident!" yelled the human, pawing at the large hand that held him with his one free arm.  The tips of his feet, sticking out the other end of the giant's fist, twitched.  "I was lost and looking for shelter and food. And the shack wasn't stable, I barely touched it!  And the only piece of gingerbread I ate had already fallen from the walls!"  

"Shack!?" Fury lit up the giant's eyes like lightning.  He squeezed the human just enough to make him wheeze.  "I worked all day on this house and you call it a shack?"  

"S-sorry, but by definition it was a shack.  Though a delicious one.  I'm sure you can build a better one in a few hours."  

Louis didn't want to admit that the fallen shack had taken him two days, and had been his best effort out of seven.  

"I'm out of patience, out of my mind, and out of coffee," growled Louis.  He felt cruel and liked it, tapping into the reputation giants had gained as blood-thirsty ogres.  "You picked the wrong day to piss me off.  Cause I also haven't eaten in the last five days."  

Will gulped, suddenly nervous at seeing the giant's perfect grin.  "There is something admiral to be found in fasting in protest or in pursuit of a passion.  Why break such a streak?  Why not six days?"  

"Oh, I don't know."  Louis let his growling stomach speak for itself, causing the human to blanche.  "Maybe because it'll make me feel better."

"I'm sure we can talk about this in a reasonable manner!" screeched the human as he was pulled closer to the giant's mouth.  

"Reason left long ago."  Around the same time he had left to visit home and got saddled with this ridiculous task.

"There is always time for reason.  Starting with introductions!  I'm William James Rowe from Brex."  William stuck his hand out in the giant's directions, as if expecting a handshake.  "And you are?"  

Louis unclenched his jaw and breathed in the smell of sweat, sugar, and fear.  "Hungry."  

Part 2 

[just-jordie-things]

5 from the kiss prompts w/ sokka please!

prompt 9: angry kiss ___

“This is your fault, by the way” Sokka hissed, sending you a nasty glare

“Excuse me-?”

“Well, if you didn’t need your precious groceries, we wouldn’t have needed to go into town.  And if we didn’t go to town, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now!”

“Precious groceries?” You repeat, narrowing your eyes.  “Do you mean the food and soap that we needed-?”

“Look, kids, do you mind shutting up for a few minutes?”

You and Sokka turned your heads, looking at the man who had captured you both and chained you up a few minutes ago.  He’d caught you in the streets on your way to the market, and before you could fend for yourself, he’d knocked you out and chained you up.  You came to after a few short minutes of him dragging you back to his wagon.

Ever since you’d regained consciousness, you and Sokka haven’t stopped arguing.  And your captor was starting to think that he was being tortured more than you two.

“Spirits you two talk a lot” He said gruffly.

“That’s mostly him” You muttered.

Sokka opened his mouth to retaliate, but then your captor stood up abruptly and grabbed hold of the chains that bound your hands.

Unfortunately, you were not only handcuffed, you were handcuffed directly to Sokka, which was probably the cruelest thing anyone could have done to you.

“You know what? How about I turn you into the Fire Nation right now for the pretty penny that’s on your heads?”

The man ran a grimy hand over your face before grabbing you by the jaw.

“Try running that mouth after they decapitate you, sweetheart”

Sokka fought against his restraints, but with his hands behind his back and cuffed to yours, he didn’t exactly intimidate your captor.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to defend you- even if it did make your heart flutter a little- and decided to make a move to defend yourself.

You reached out and bit the man’s hand before he could pull it away from your face.

The man screeched in pain, but Sokka let out a yip as well.

You turned to look at him, your brows furrowed.

“Why are you yelling, dumbass-?”

“You bitch!” The man in pain hollered, and roughly grabbed at the chains between you and Sokka.  “I hope they burn you to a crisp!”

You just snickered while stumbling over your feet.

“Great, now he’s gonna be rougher” Sokka grumbled, before you were both thrown into the back of his wagon.

The man slammed the door in your faces, before attaching a large and heavy duty lock on the door.

“We’re his prisoners, Sokka, he was never going to tuck us in,” You snapped back at him.  “Besides I’ve got this handled, so just- calm down”

“Oh, you’ve got this handled?” Sokka repeated in disbelief.  “What part of us being handcuffed together do you consider handled!?” He screamed.

“Hey! You keep it down back there!” Your captor called from where he sat above the wagon, before kicking roughly at the wood to make his point.

“That’s it, I’m done entertaining this idiot” You grumbled, and clenched your fists, and with ease, the handcuffs on your wrists crumpled like paper, and you could break free.

“What the-!?” Sokka’s eyes widened as you were suddenly free from him, his jaw on the floor as he caught sight of the mangled handcuffs.  “How did you-!?”

“Shh!” You hushed, before covering his mouth with your hands.  “Toph taught me a new trick, now shut up and let me save you”

He wanted to argue with you some more, but he was still too awestruck at the fact that you’d just used metalbending- which he hadn’t known existed- to try to put up a fight.

Without another word, you grabbed at the chains around his hands, and repeated the same motion that Toph had taught her, and just like that, the cuffs fell from his hands.

“You got that boomerang still?” You asked, to which he scoffed.

“Duh”

“Great” You grinned, and Sokka thinks it might have been the first time you ever smiled at him.

You had only met about a month ago.  You were an earthbender friend of Toph’s and she’d begged you to come with her on her travels with the Avatar.  You’d only made it to Ba Sing Se, and you and Sokka had argued since your meeting.  You weren’t sure why, he was just always off with you.

“When I break this open, you throw it right away, alright?” You ordered, standing directly before him, and raising your arms until your hands were pressed against the wood paneling of the roof.

“What? You’re standing in the way!” Sokka hissed, boomerang in hand.

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll bust it open, duck, and you throw it,” You clarified.  “Do I really need to walk you step by step through this? You just gotta knock the guy out so we can get out of here!”

“Well with your plan, I’ll be knocking the both of you out, because you’re standing in the way!”

“Sokka! For once can you just listen to-!?”

Your question fell short as the paneling above you was ripped open, and only then did you realize the wagon had stopped moving, and now your captor was staring menacingly down at you.

“We fucked up” You barely registered Sokka’s mumble of defeat, before a pair of hands were reaching down for you, and snatching you up like a ragdoll.

You screamed on instinct, thrashing in your captor’s hold, but no matter how much you kicked and punched at his chest, he didn’t seem to budge.

“Let her go!” Sokka hollered, rearing his arm back, ready to throw his weapon if the man didn’t release you.

“You two are so goddamn annoying!” The man complained, not caring about the young Water Tribe boy threatening his life.  “I definitely don’t need the reward for both of you.  One will do” He decided, and carelessly tossed you off the wagon and onto the rocky ground.

You grunted at the impact, wishing you had been quick enough to use your earthbending to soften your landing, but at least it hadn’t been a long fall.

“(y/n)!” Sokka shrieked, and without thinking, threw his boomerang with all his might, hitting the man in the forehead and buying himself enough time to pull himself through the opening of the wagon, catch his boomerang, and catapult himself over the side of the cabin.

“Get back here you heathen!” The man howled, one hand covering the mark on his face as he jumped off the wagon after you.

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, and raised one arm with great force, sending a column of earth jut out from the ground and hit him in the gut.  And then you sent another to his face, making him crumple to the ground like he was boneless.

“Shit, are you okay?” Sokka asked, wrapping his hands around your shoulders as he helped you up.

“I’ll be fine,” You said, wincing in pain at the soreness in your back.  “I should have taken care of that idiot back in town, I’m sorry”

Just as your eyes met Sokka’s, he seized forward, smashing his lips to yours.  You barely even had time to close your own eyes, much less process that he was kissing you and it was a very nice kiss- albeit a little desperate and aggressive- but that you’d very much like to kiss him back.

When he pulled back, you blinked, your eyes as wide as the moon and a blush dusting your cheeks.

Sokka did not share the same look of whimsy, instead he was furrowing his brows at you angrily.

“You idiot,” He scolded you, dropping his hands from your shoulders to gently smack at your arm.  “Don’t ever do that again.  Next time some guy tries to kidnap you, you earthbend him seven feet under the ground, got it!?”

He sounded more panicked than angry, but you silently and shakily nodded your head back at him, still reeling from the kiss he’d just laid on you.

“And if for whatever reason you’re trying to prove a point- spirits (y/n) don’t let us get kidnapped just to spite me!”

“Just to spite you!?” You repeated in disbelief.  “For fuck’s sake Sokka don’t flatter yourself-”

“Oh please, you coulda’ taken care of that guy forever ago! Why didn’t you?”

“He caught us off guard!” You argued.

“You’re a master earthbender!”

“I was unconscious, you dipshit!”

You both argued the whole way back to camp, and then argued some more when the others asked why you hadn’t gotten any of the supplies you were sent out for.

But that night as everyone set up their sleeping bags, Sokka placed his a little closer to yours than necessary- but it was shocking enough that he’d even set up next to you.  And you didn’t complain, or mention it at all.

And later, after you’d thought he’d fallen asleep, his hand reached out and grabbed onto yours.

Again, you didn’t say anything.  Just tangled your fingers between his, and wondered if something had changed, or if there had always been a spark between you and you were just too clueless to notice it.

It was an answer that you’d have to wait until morning to get, but it still kept you up most the night thinking about. ___

might just have to write a part 2 to this

xoxo ~ jordie

[timelordthirteen]

In All Things 28/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: Belle goes on her ride, has a bit of a revelation, and later Gold has one of his own. ;)

Notes: Takes place immediately after the previous chapter. Continue to enjoy the fluffy cuteness before I start drop angst bombs on things.

[AO3]

Belle waited until she was out of sight of Thornhill to bunch up her skirts and sling her leg over the saddle.

After a moment of adjustment, she settled the fabric and made certain her cloak covered her legs to the tops of her boots. Then she nudged Philippe into a canter, and let out a delighted laugh as the rush of air blew her hood back. The thick braid she’d used to constrain her hair flopped against her shoulder in rhythm with her horse’s hooves, loosening some of the strands on the sides of her head so that they blew against her cheeks as they rounded the corner of the road.

There was a gap in the line of trees, and she slowed Philippe back to a jog, directing him through it and onto the path that would take her around the eastern edge of the estate. It seemed to be a well traveled lane, but free of ruts from wagon wheels, unlike the main roads. She followed it into the trees, heading north along the far side of the property, marveling as she looked around at the snowy landscape. Patches of bold green and deep browns broke through here and there, and she could see open spots among the trees where in the spring there might be flowers or other plants. The edge of the path was littered with dead leaves and branches, but it was easy to imagine the thick growth that would narrow it come summer. There hadn’t been time to truly explore Thornhill and all its grounds, and while she knew the break in the weather wouldn’t hold for long, she looked forward to getting to know these woods and hills as well as she did the ones around Avonlea.

Philippe slowed to a walk, picking his way over the remains of a fallen tree, and Belle breathed deeply, drawing in the cold, crisp air, reveling in the calm and beauty of nature around her. There was a sharp crack to her left, and she held fast to the reins, keeping her horse steady as she looked in between the uneven rows of pines to spy a large stag. She pulled up and stopped Philippe, wanting to watch what the deer would do, and also wanting to make sure there was no one out hunting that she needed to worry about.

The deer dipped his head, rummaging along the ground for something, bulky antlers clipping against a few low branches. When he raised up again, he seemed to be looking straight at her, and Belle felt as though she could see, hear, and feel everything. She took a slow breath as she watched the animal look one way and then the other, catching the scent of wet earth and pine. A light breeze crept up the large sleeves of her cloak, raising goosebumps on her arms, as somewhere nearby a creek bubbled and rolled along.

The stag looked at her again, holding for a long moment, until he suddenly flinched and bounded off through the brush, disappearing into the shadowed depths of the trees. She let out the breath she’d been holding, and smiled widely as she leaned over Philippe’s neck, patting him gently for staying so still and calm. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she shook her head.

This was what it must feel like to be free, she thought.

She would have never had this with Gaston, nor if she had stayed in Avonlea, but here she did. She was making friends, and had people she cared about, Bae, Jefferson, Grace, and Cameron. She had a sense of purpose and a future where she would be in control of an estate and her life.

That was what her marriage had given her.

Feeling that if she dwelled on it too much, she might be overwhelmed, she nudged Philippe onward. A little further ahead the path split, with one track continuing north through the woods and the other cutting back west towards the house. Not knowing how much time had passed, but seeing that the sun was lower and the horizon was alight with an array of pink and orange, she chose to head back towards the house.

It curved up a slow sloping hill, giving a glimpse of a valley beyond the next line of trees. She wondered if it was the valley in which the village of Lamton sat, and smiled as she thought about riding Philippe there to visit everyone who had been at the solstice ball. It would be so nice to spend the long summer afternoons in the company of friends, and to see what little shops and markets the area had to offer.

Soon they came out of the woods onto a wider path covered with the same fine gravel as the front lane of Thornhill. In the distance she could see a small building set back from the lane, and, curious, she tugged Philippe in that direction. The building became a cottage as they drew closer, with a fence that ran around the front and one side, marking off what looked like a garden of some kind, though one plot was all tall, bare trees instead of the remains of winter vegetables.

“Hello there?” came a loud, gruff voice.

“Hello!” Belle called back.

She stopped on the path at the spot where a dirt walkway from the cottage door met the gravel. A short, stocky man came over from the side of the house where a large stump was set next to a wood pile.

“No one ever comes down here to visit me.”

“Leroy?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the setting sun with her hand.

“Lady Gold,” he gasped, halting midway down the walkway to give her an awkward bow. He was holding an axe off to one side. “Forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.”

Belle shifted on the saddle until her right leg was pulled up and she was sitting properly again. “No need to be sorry. I hadn’t planned on interrupting your wood chopping.”

He shrugged and came closer. “I could use the break anyway, m’lady.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Please, call me Belle.”

Leroy gave her a small, crooked grin. “Then good afternoon, Belle.”

“Good afternoon,” she echoed. “Though not for much longer I’m afraid.”

He nodded. “Indeed. What are you doing out this way?”

“Oh, I just went for a little ride on my friend, Philippe.”

“Hello, Philippe.”

The horse whinnied and Belle laughed. “Do you live here, Leroy?’

“Yes, ma’am. This was the original farm house before the estate was built. When I started tending the gardens, Ms. Potts was always hollering at me for tracking mud and leaves into the house.”

Belle smiled. “That sounds like her.”

“Gold got tired of it, so now I live here.” She frowned, and it was Leroy’s turn to laugh. “It was my idea, actually. I told Ms. Potts that I couldn’t track mud on her floors if I didn’t walk on them.”

“Everyone’s happy then,” she replied., ginning. “And is that your garden?”

He beamed at her. “Yes ma’am. You should come see it in the summer. I have some apple trees that should finally be old enough to produce something this year.”

Her eyes went wide. “An orchard?”

“Hardly enough to call an orchard now,” he said. “But maybe someday.”

She smiled again, somewhat wistful for the rows of trees back in Avonlea. “I will definitely return, now that I know where you find you.”

“M’Lady.” He gave her another smile and a half bow. “Would you - could you tell your maid Astrid that I, um, send my regards?”

Belle bit her lip in amusement and nodded. “I certainly will. Good day, Leroy.”

He waved as she rode off, pushing Philippe back into a quick trot. The sun was nearly set, with only a dark pink glow to light the way, and she was anxious to be back at the house before it was completely gone. Fortunately, it took only a few minutes to see the wall of the gardens and Thornhill beyond it. A warm yellow light shone from the windows, and she smiled as Philippe made his way along the gravel path.

Having left Philippe in the stables, with promises to see him tomorrow and bring carrots, Belle entered the house through the front door. She left her cloak on the round table in the foyer along with her gloves, and headed straight upstairs to her room where Astrid was waiting.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back,” said Astrid, hurrying over to Belle’s side. “It kept getting darker and darker outside, and I was afraid you’d gotten lost.”

Belle waved a hand. “I am perfectly fine, and now I know my way around one of the trails. The woods are so beautiful here, so many pine trees, and I think there’s a little river not too far off.”

Astrid could hear the pleasure in Belle’s voice and smiled. “I’m glad you were with Philippe at least.”

Belle let out a happy sigh as she sat down on the bench at the end of her bed. “Yes. I’m so glad to have him here. I’ve missed riding.”

Astrid knelt down to help her take off her riding boots. “Well, I have everything ready for you to wash up and change before supper. I laid out your favorite blue dress.”

“Oh,” she said, looking towards the bedroom door, “um, just help me get these boots off so I can put my slippers on. I have something to do before I change.”

Astrid tugged the first boot off, falling back on her heels, and then looked up at Belle. “Oh, alright.”

Together they got the second boot off as well, and then Belle wiggled her feet into a pair of soft leather slippers. She usually wore them around her rooms in the evening after her bath, but she only needed a few minutes to find her husband.

Gold was in his study, a room which she had never been in before, and she hesitated before knocking, unsure if he would be annoyed at having his work interrupted. He called out a second later, and she pushed open the door.

“Belle.”

She smiled at the soft surprise in his voice. “Were you expecting someone else?”

Gold shook his head and pushed back from his desk. “No. Jefferson and Bae are usually the only ones who disturb me here.”

“Oh,” she said, stepping back into the doorway. “I can come back later if -”

He had already covered half the distance between them when he reached towards her. “No, no, come in, please. You are always welcome.”

“Even if I’m interrupting your work?”

He waved his hand. “Of course, nothing that can’t wait. How was your ride?”

Belle smiled widely. “It was wonderful!” She came towards him, and then took hold of his hand, raising it to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it as had become their habit. “Thank you, so much.”

He gave her fingers a squeeze and shook his head again. “You have already thanked me.”

Then she took both of his hands in hers, bringing them against her chest. “Then you must allow me to do it again.”

Gold chuckled. “As my lady wishes.”

Her eyes met his and held for a long moment before she pushed up on her toes and touched her lips to his cheek. It was brief and impulsive, she knew that, but she felt she could take the liberty as she tried to convey all that she had come to understand on her ride and all that she was grateful for.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her nose brushing his jaw as she dropped back on her heels.

He swallowed hard and freed one of his hands, reaching up to brush a few strands of loose hair back from her forehead. “You’re, um, you’re very welcome. I should have done it sooner.”

Belle gave him another smile. “You did it at just the right time, I think.”

His lips curved crookedly, the little lines at the corners of his eyes showing more prominently, and she felt - something. It was a contentment, perhaps, with her situation in life, and despite what was coming for them in the next week, there was a lightness as well.

She stepped back and let go of his hand, brushing her palms over her skirts. “I need to wash up before dinner,” she said. “I’ll see you later?”

He gave her a small bow, still smiling. “Of course.”

As she turned to go, she spied something odd in the corner to the left of the fireplace. She moved closer to it, and then looked back over her shoulder at her husband. “Is that - is that a spinning wheel?”

Gold’s face shifted into an expression she couldn’t place, and he nodded. “Yes.”

Belle bit her lip and looked back at the wheel. It was a dark wood with a horizontal brass flyer and bobbin, that was at least a quarter full, and a brass plate on the treadle. On the floor next to it was a woven basket of carded wool.

“Do you - spin?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” came Gold’s soft reply. “Sometimes. It - it helps me think.”

There was something about the machine that intrigued her. It was obviously well cared for and used, and kept in a place where few would see it, as everyone seemed to know not to bother the lord of the estate when he was in his study. Everyone except those who were closest to him. Did that include her now too, she wondered?

There were questions on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them down. “I, um, I’ll leave you be,” she managed, pulling herself away from the curiosity of the spinning wheel and towards the door. She looked back at him one last time to find him standing near the wheel, in a spot that would have been just behind her, his eyes fixed on it. It seemed she hadn’t noticed him coming closer. “Thank you again.”

Gold met her gaze and nodded. “It’s no matter.”

Belle put the spinning wheel out of her mind as she cleaned up and dressed for dinner, by delivering Leroy’s greeting to Astrid.

Astrid blushed furiously and couldn’t meet her eyes for fully five minutes, which amused Belle to no end. She had suspected at the ball, that Astrid and Leroy had established some sort of friendship, and that there might be more to it than either of them was letting on. Now she had evidence of it, and was delighted.

“So,” Belle said as she sat down on the stool at her vanity, “do you - like - Leroy?”

Astrid paused, hairpin hovering over the back of Belle’s head, and met her eyes in the mirror, pink faced and wide eyed. “I, um, I - I might, yes.”

Belle smiled at her. “He seems to like you.”

Another fierce blush made her wonder if her maid was going to turn completely red by the end of the evening.

“Yes, he - he does,” Astrid replied, slipping the pin into Belle’s hair and busying herself with combing out the curls beneath it. “But I - I’m not sure how much I - I like him yet.”

“I think it’s very sweet,” Belle offered, fighting to hold back the almost manic grin that wanted to break out on her face.

Astrid finding love would please her greatly. She wanted nothing but happiness for the person who had been her closest friend for so many years, who had seen her through the worst moments, and into what she hoped would be some of the best.

“Do - do you...like Lord Gold?” Astrid asked, setting the comb aside to reach for another pin.

Belle looked up and caught Astrid’s earnest gaze in the mirror. “Well, I - I suppose I do, but...it’s not -” She took a breath and turned on the stool to face Astrid. “It’s not the way you like Leroy.”

Astrid stopped, the hairpin dangling between her fingers, and gave Belle an odd look. “How are they different?”

Belle frowned.

“Forgive me,” Astrid continued, “I know you said that the two of you have an arrangement, and that it’s - it’s not perhaps a traditional marriage, but -”

She stopped and clamped her mouth shut, and Belle stood. She plucked the hairpin from Astrid’s hand and set it on the vanity before taking her friend’s hands in hers. “You know you must always say what you feel, Astrid. To me.”

Astrid worried her lip for a moment and then sighed. “I’m just - I’m confused because I - I can see how you are with each other - how Lord Gold respects you and - and how you sometimes hold hands, and today you hugged him in front of everyone and -and, well, it seems like the kind of arrangement I might want for myself.”

“I see. Thank you for being honest with me.”

Belle pondered Astrid’s words as they went about dressing her in her favorite blue dress. She hadn’t considered how it must look to others to see these interactions between her and her husband, how what was simply amiable sweetness between two friends could be viewed in another light by those who didn’t know the real reasons why they were married. It didn’t concern her so much what others felt about her relationship with Cameron, but what she might feel about it. There was a genuine fondness there when she thought of him, and a kind of quiet pleasure in the time they spent together, but there was something else as well, something that she wasn’t sure she understood yet. It wasn’t love; she was not so young and naïve as to conflate her feelings in that way, but it unsettled her that she couldn’t name it.

Perhaps it would resolve when they had faced their mutual enemies and returned from the palace. Perhaps it was nothing more than her nerves getting the better of her again. With a sigh, she thanked Astrid, and headed downstairs for dinner.

The fire snapped sharply, its glow the only light in the room.

Gold’s foot moved steadily, the loud crack from the hearth failing to make the gentle whir of the wheel falter even the slightest. He didn’t need much light for spinning, not after so many years. His good leg could still keep the pace for hours if needed, and the slip of the wool through his fingers told him whether it needed more or less tension easier than seeing the fiber it produced.

He hadn’t been prepared for Belle asking if he could spin. It was the only part of his past that he had held on to, and that made it special, even sacred in a way. No one who hadn’t lived part of it with him knew, and he worried that in telling her about it he might damage the happy companionship they had built in some way, that it might alter her good opinion of him.

There were other things, however, that would ruin the peace he had finally found for himself far more than telling his wife how he came to spin.

Sighing, he leaned over and picked up another clump of roving, twisting and feeding it into the strand that was already forming, keeping the wheel turning all the while. The muscle memory was something he never seemed to lose, so long as he didn’t think too hard about it. His body remembered the long nights, the cold of the tiny cottage, the winds that blew so hard they whooshed down the chimney and threatened to snuff out every bit of warmth and comfort.

Gold shivered and let his eyes drift to the fire, still going strong and in no danger of being blown out. The golden glow reminded him of how the dining hall had looked on the solstice, how it reflected off of the decorations, and made Belle’s dress shimmer as though it were made of magic.

His mind wandered easily back to that moment when she put her hand in his, when he led her out in front of everyone, and they danced around the room. Though he was nervous to attempt spinning her, her laughter had been the most delightful sound he’d ever heard, and it had the desired effect of bringing her out of her head and back into the moment. From there it had been relaxed and easy, as if they did this very often, as if holding her in his arms was a common occurrence.

You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.

He heard her breath catch at his words, and felt the slight shift in her body. She seemed on the verge of a reply, when the music ended, the horns softly fading as the last notes were played out on the violin. They stopped in nearly the same spot as they started, and the second her eyes met his he had the most ridiculous impulse. She let him do it, let him lean her back just a little, her back arching slightly against his arm, pressing her chest forward. He held her firmly, and sensed that she trusted he wouldn’t let her fall.

It was no more than a second, a blink, a crack of the fire that he held her, but he couldn’t breathe as he pulled her upright again. Her hand was still holding his, the other on his arm to steady herself, but the motion had pulled her close, almost against his body. She looked up, her eyes wide and bright and the most brilliant blue, and his mouth started to gape open. Her expression was soft but surprised, and he could feel a strange dizziness wash over him as though they were still twirling around the room. She blinked, and then her gaze darted down to his mouth. He raised their joined hands, nudging the edge of her chin until her eyes were looking into his again, and then he caught it - the slight shift, the light gasp, the tensing of her hand against his arm as if she were trying to pull him closer.

Her breath ghosted over his lips a second before he pressed them firmly to hers, and -

The fire popped and Gold’s hand jerked, yanking on the end of the wool and pulling it too thin. The strand of yarn snapped, whipping passed the wheel as its rhythm stuttered. The treadle under his foot squeaked as he released the pressure too quickly, and the yarn went flipping round and round over the bobbin, unraveling on the other side as it slowed.

He huffed and shook his head, startled by the direction his little reminiscence had taken. Tugging the frayed end back towards him, he held it between his fingers and glared at it before dropping it to the floor. The small clock on the mantle chimed, and he looked up to see it was well passed when he should have been asleep.

With another shake of his head, he pushed to his feet and moved over to the fireplace. A small bit of glowing ash lay on the edge of the hearth which he stamped out with the toe of his boot. After replacing the screen, and throwing one last glower at the wheel, he shuffled off to bed.

[knight-queen]

𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐘𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐌𝐮𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 – (𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭)

[Chapter O2]  [Chapter O3]  [Chapter O4]  [Final]

Main CG used in this Route -

—

Yui: (I must have to get back my heart….!) 

Place:  山中 / Mountain / Yamanaka

Yui: (I must have to get back my heart….!)

Yuma: From now on, we gotta solve this problem, huh?

Yui: Sorry...Yuma kun.

Yuma: Haa? Why are ya’ saying that? The person called Earl or whatever, it’s all his fault, right!?

Don’t make such a annoyin’ face! C’mmon! La-u-gh?

*Yuma gets closer*

Yui: Ouch...I-it hurts…!

(I think he puts all his strength into stressing my face.)

Yuma: Hee? That face was also good...ha-haha!

Yui: Laughing like this….it’s not fair!

*Yuma backs off*

Yui: (By the way, what should we do from now on)

(I think I saw something in the dream...Maybe I can figure out something if I think about that.)

Yuma: ……..*Sighs*

Yui: (Why is he looking at me putting on such a scary face…?)

Yuma: Making such a stupid face for a while, I am saying that everything’s gonna be fine! HUH?

Yui: You are wrong...It’s not something like that…

Yuma: I am saying it, which means I am correct!

Yuma: Haa...Looks like I have to make you understand it thoroughly….haa!!

*Yuma hugs Yui*

Yui: Kyaa!

(He’s hugging me out of nowhere…!?)

Yuma: Don’t be so dumb. It doesn’t matter where we go so, hold onto me tightly!

Yui: Eh?! Gh! Kyaaaa!!

*They are flying*

*Sound of Wind*

*Screen black / Yui closes her eyes*

Yui: (This feeling...Could it be that we are…!)

*Opens her eyes / screen comes back*

Yui: (Flying…?)

(We’re just going up and up! At this rate, it looks like we will reach the Moon...!)

Yuma: Kuku! Make sure that you hold me tightly!

Yui: You have suddenly started to fly! I was scared, y’know?

Yuma: Even if I wouldn’t fly suddenly, you would be scared to fly anyway.

Yui: That’s true though…

Yuma: So? Can’t you think of anything other than scaring?

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: For example, shooting stars or the lights of the parade venue. What about those?

Yui: Yes, they are beautiful…

(I am seeing colorful lights far below...ah, there is an amusement park over there. That wagon is selling something, I think?)

(That was the parade venue from the earlier, right? It’s very lively and pretty.)

Yuma: No-w, where shall we get started? What ‘bout starting from attractive places all the way through?

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: Ruki said it, right? Earl Walter can be anywhere that we don’t even know.

If that’s so, that we should use our feet for searching without thinking about anything!

I think it’s best to ask people here about this world. There may be other information out there ‘bout being stolen of your heart.

((A quick reminder that Yuma is extremely rude, and I am trying my best to translate in his type language. But he is always RUDE! He is not formal at all))

Yui: (Definitely…)

Yuma: That’s why, let’s play & have fun while collecting the information!!

Ah! That amusement park will be a perfect place! We are gonna’ ride every single one!

Yui: Y-yeah…

(Looks like his main intention is to have fun rather than searching for information.)

(I also want us to have fun together, but…)

Ne~ Yuma Kun.

Yuma: Aah?

Yui: If I don’t get back my heart...I will end up dying, right.

It would also work if I don’t have this body...but that’s…

(It’s difficult to have fun while holding these feelings.)

Yuma: Oi, haven’t you noticed anything. I am not planning to have fun around by throwing out your main problems.

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: Tch! You are very poor at guessing!

I haven’t gotten any other choice but to yield, I guess?

It’s obvious to get depressed at the same time, but even if we don’t have fun, you’re gonn’ be anxious anyway.

That’s why I’m sayin’ that I am gonna make your face unconcerned just like I have!

Yui: (Yuma Kun is...thinking about me.) *Blushing*

(Yet, I was just concerned about me.)

I am really sorry...I wasn’t planning to doubt you or something…

I was just feeling washed away...I didn’t even watch my own words...as a result I ended up being teased by you

Yuma: Exactly.

Yui: (I was so depressed lately. I haven't fixed it. First of all, let’s keep in mind that I have to make myself cheerful.)

(Alright, beware of your smile...)

Yui: Yuma Kun! Can I company you?

Yuma: ….!?...

Yui: Yuma Kun?

Yuma: You, making such a face….damn! Don’t say cute things! *Blushing*

Yui: Eh? Ah…!

*Yuma undresses Yui*

Yui: (He embraced me, he’s digging fangs in my neck….!)

Yuma: Don’t think that I’ll stop if you say ‘sorry.’ Give me a thank you using your feelings. 

If I bite ‘ere, then those vampires won’t bother me.

Yui: (Could it be that, he was planning to fly for this….from the beginning…!)

Yuma: At first, I’ll do it from here….nh…*Licks*

Yui: Don’t…! *Blushing*

Yuma: Your makin’ such a face before I even dig my fangs. Don’t you still have some hope…!! (( He has used 期待 -> means hope or expectation.))

Yui: Please...don’t…!

*Sound of shooting magic*

Yuma: Hm? I have heard somethin’...HAAA!?

Yui: Eh?

(A black object is approaching this way!)

*Another sound*

Yui: (What a speed...we are going to collide!)

Yuma: A meteorite!? Why is coming straight towards us! Tch, as this rate —

*Another sound*

Yui: (We’ll get hit…!)

Yuma: Can y’ easily bum ito us...Aaaa!!

*Yuma aparts from Yui*

Yui: Ah!

(I am separated from Yuma Kun…!?)

Yuma: Yui!!

Yui: Kyaaa!

*Sounds of wind*

Yuma: *Unclear Voice*  Ugh! Extend your hand!

Yui: …!

(Can’t, my hand can’t reach him…!)

Yuma: Guh!...Damn! You’ll…!

Yui: (I will?...Die...I thought it’s gonna be positive with me….but)

*Screen black / closes her eyes*

(I am sorry Yuma Kun)

Yui: …..nh?

(—What...This touch...it is very soft….and sweet smell.)

Yuma: No good, I can’t control this speed!!!

UWAAAAAAA— —!!!!!!??

Yui: Nh!? Yuma kun!

Yuma: Ugh...what’s this...it’s hurting and...ugh…

Oi, can you move?

Yui: It’s… kinda impossible….

Yuma: Haa? What should I do then?

So, where’re we? I’know it's a parade venue, but...I can’t see anything like that.

Yui: You are right….

(It's a very noticeable place…)

Clown D: Haa...I was going to finish up today’s work. Are you guys substituting my candles or what?

Yui: Candles? Umm...what you mean —

Clown D: Oh my, oh my. You guys are festiving too much in the name of parade~

Yuma: Isn't it weird to hear something like this from a clown?

Clown D: It’s not weird~good grief! You are really a hopeless couple. Here, I will help you, gimme your hand.

Yuma: Yea, counting on ya’.

Yui: Thank you so much…

Place: サントノレパーク通り /  Saint Honoré Park Street

Yuma: Ha— we had face somethin’ awful!

Yui: (I am glad that everything was okay, but...)

(No way, it’s more likely to break a giant cake of the parade celebration.)

We are really really sorry.

Clown D: A—….It’s okay, it’s okay! I’d like to say...nope, I give up~

I will make it over again. Even though I’ve made the cake with great efforts, y’know~!

Yuma: Haa? It was you who cooked, huh? You have a great taste!

Clown D: Eh, Really!! Even though it’s not true, that makes me so happy!! But, A—aah~

Yui: (He’s feeling so down. I am sure that he was preparing that taking a long time…)

(A lot of people will be gathering here. If we don’t cooperate, he may not be able to finish making such a big cake….)

Umm…

Clown D: Hm? What is it?

Yui: I don’t know whether you’ll be able to make a gorgeous cake or not, but, we will compensate for you!

Yuma: Haaa—?

Yui: Because, it was all our fault after all. We must have to do something.

Yuma: I’know what you mean... but how can we compensate somethin’ like this?

Yui: That’s—…

(There should be a way…)

...Sorry, I can’t think of it right away.

Yuma: Anyway, my whole body is sticky and sticky for the cream, it’s unpleasant.

Sorry but I'm someone who’ll get tension for this, right?

Since it’s a parade, I am looking like a display object or something like that….Let’s go for the bath right away.

Clown D: Saying this means you’re planning NOT to come back, right~?

Yuma: Well, if I would be the only then I wouldn’t come back. But, if I do so, this good-person won’t forgive me.

Yui: Listen...Of course we will come back! We will absolutely pay back your debt, so please trust us!!

Clown D: Let’s see...— Um...I don’t have faith in this big brother, but I can trust this big sister!

Yuma: Aaa—? Tch!

Yui: Thanks a lot! By the way, would you mind telling us where we can have a shower….?

Clown D: I’ll lead you to a familiar hotel. If you like then, I may give you the tickets!

Yui: Eh, is that okay…?

Yuma: Is that ‘cuz there’s an acquaintance there and you keep an eye on us so that we won’t run away?

Clown D: Listen—…!

Yui: (But that way, we also can proof that we keep our promise, right?)

Yui: I got your point. Of Course we’ll come back. We were really sorry.

Clown D: Well—That wasn’t my intention. First, I will say that, don’t be slow~

Yuma: Got it. Let’s go then.

Yui: Yeah.

Place: ホテル・モーントシュタイン  バスルーム / Bathroom of Mortstein Hotel

*Without dress*

Yui: (Phew….)

(Nevertheless, we completely spoiled the cake…)

(I did something like this in a dream when I was a kid. I think I wasn’t happy at all for doing that...)

(Anyway, it’s Yuma Kun’s turn now)

*Turns off the shower*

*Puts on dresses*

Yui: (Okay, all I have to do is to just fix my fair. Shall I call him out?)

Yuma Kun, thank you for waiting. I am coming out, just a little, okay?

*Yuma opens the door*

Yui: Wah?

Yuma: I’m tired of waiting — Haa! How annoyin’. These clothes’re stuck with me.

gh...ugh...—I still can’t take these off...guh… *trying to take off*

*He takes off his clothes*

Yui: —! Kyaa!

Yuma: Aa? Shut up, why screaming, huh?

Yui: *Blushing* Wa-wait! Let me move backwards!!

Yuma: Why are y’ being damn noisy. Y’can move anywhere so be quiet!

*Yuma turns on the shower*

Yui: Uuh— I wiped my hair perfectly... I must get out…!

Yuma: ...Nh...What the hell is this, such a sticky! ...—Oi!

I can’t remove dirt from my hair, you gotta help me!

Yui: Eeh! But…

Yuma: I wrap a towel ‘cuz you’re such a noise! Hurry up and help!

Yui: (If it’s so...then I may lay him a hand.) *Blushing*

(To tell the truth, he had fallen down in the cake to protect me, right?)

*Turns into CG*

Yuma: —Ah...by the way, wash more gently there, and also the right side…

Yui: *Nod*

(Uu—It’s embarrassing….I must not look at him….)

Yuma: ...—What it could be that was hittin’ us during flyin’ in the sky.

Is that a meteorite?

Yui: May be...A—

Yuma: Uwa—Oi! Are you blind or what? Watch carefully!

Yui: Ah! Sorry!

Yuma: Whatta pain! Are you embarrassed for that! Usually, you used to be more close to me, right!

Just—like this!

*CG turns where Yuma’s sucking*

Yui: Kyaa!!

Yuma: It reminds me that I couldn’t suck during flying...kuku~ I’m gonn’ get it back!

….—Nh…..hn…*sucking*

Yui: Ah…

(His fangs are digged deeper….!)

Yuma: Kuku...Such a good face. Lemme taste it more.

Nh—...ha...nh…

Yui: (No...I am losing my strength…)

Yuma: Like always….your are having a sloppy face….hah….lean on me.

Yui: Ah...—Yuma kun,....I can’t—

(Even though I was done with bathing….I am feeling dizzy.)

Yuma: What now? Do you want me to suck from here? I’ll do it.

Haha, dropping tears...all I see is that you just want me to continue.

Raise your face…

Yui: Uh—…

(If he still continues….I will lose consciousness…)

Yuma: Nh…*Kiss*

Yui: (Lips...he didn’t...bite?...)

nh...Yuma Kun…?

Yuma: I am glad that you didn’t die…

Yui: Eh…?

Yuma: It’s nothing. C’mmon give me more. These blood’re just coming out. I won’t waste it.

Until I am satisfied...I won’t let y’ go...nh...nh...mn..

Yui: (Enough already...at this rate…!)

Stop...we have to go back to the plaza. We promised to Clown San…!

Yuma: Aaa?

Yui: (If he still continues sucking, we can’t keep our promise. I can’t allow something like that...!)

*Yui moved back*

Yuma: Aah? Wait!

Place: ホテル・モーントシュタイン  客室 / Guest Room of Mortstein Hotel

Yui: (I’m sorry for Yuma Kun, but it’s good that I managed to escape somehow. I must go back to that place, as soon as I can!)

Yuma: ….Oi! What’re you actually planning to do somethn’ for that big cake?

Yui: It’s obvious! It was your fault....If you wouldn’t fly then, we won’t have deal with something like this.)

Yuma: Aaa? It was those meteorites’ fault! You were expecting my fangs, didn’t you?

Yui: I didn’t! By the way, let’s go back to that place.

Yuma: Even if you say that. You’ve almost forgotten your most important work.

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: To remake such a big cake, how can you buy such an amount of time?

If you do it, then we may lose your heart!

Yui: Ah…

Yuma: Your face’s telling that you’ve completely forgotten...hah, as I thought, you should just lie ‘bout it.

Yui: *Nod* I can’t. When I imagine people’s sad faces out there, I just can’t do something like that.

(If we escape away, then I am sure that we’ll regret it later. More than that, I don’t want others to be disappointed.)

Yuma: Well, it’s true that I also did something horrible.

Yui: Please Yuma Kun, let’s go there together?

Yuma: It can't be helped. Then hurry up and finish making that cake.

Yui: Really?

Yuma: I can’t hear if you’re sayin’ something. ….That kind of attitude of you still hasn’t washed away, this stubbornness.

Yui: Not really. It’s very normal. 

Yuma: No, you are not normal. Hehe, you easily get swept away by the things that make you feel good.

Yui: —No, you are wrong!

Yuma: Hehe, you are red all the way to the neck.

Yui: (—! There are many things to say, but...it’s good that he accepted my favour.)

Place: サントノレパーク通り / Saint Honoré Park Street

Yui: (There’s a lot of traffic. People walking in the road also disguised themselves to have fun.)

Yuma: Oi...Don’t get lost from me.

Yui: Yes, Ne~ Yuma Kun. Did you remember about the carnival that we visited before?

Yuma: Huh? Very strange situation. It also remembered that. ...However, the situation right now is completely different from that.

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: At that time, it was a problem when those vampires got addicted to your blood, right?

Yui: If it’s so, then it’s completely different now.

(A human like me....no one is noticing me, even if I walk around them...It was a little mystery…)

Yuma: Perhaps….since your heartś replaced with a stone.

Yui: (I see...Earl has replaced my heart with a gem. For this, they are thinking that I am not a human, may be itś the reason for that…)

Ne, did the taste of my blood change?

Yuma: Haa...you’re looking so serious. Are you worrying ´bout it?

Yui: Huh?

Yuma: You said that you won´t feel comfortable like in the past, kukuh! Are you disappointed?

Yui: Itś not something like that…!

Yuma: Aah? It’s a bull’s eye y’know? But, don´t be worried. I don’t care ´bout taste or something like that.

For me, to make you feel better is more important than suking your blood after all, kukuh

Yui: Enough-...!

*Blushing* (Saying something like that...may me that’s a part of his kindness…)

(As I thought, I have to get back the heart as soon as possible.)

*After a while*

Yui: Ah, Clown San!

Clown D: Oh, you two huh~ Good to see that you come back after all~

Yuma: That was obvious. So? Did you make that cake?

Clown D: No way! I am just a clown out here, so I can´t make something like that~

Yui: You made it then?

Clown D: It’s a sweet shop-keeper~!

Yuma: What about getting that guy to make the cake over again?

Yui: Yuma Kun, it’s not fair to say something like this.

Yuma: Aah? But it's impossible to make it for an ordinary person, right?

Yui: That’s true, but…

Clown D: At first, go there and tell that ¨ I am sorry.¨ Spoiling such a huge cake, I can´t say something from my position, yḱnow~

Yui: Okay, we are going to apologize.

Yuma: Letś make it.

Clown D: I don't know whether it goes that easily, but good luck~!

Place: ザフィーア 菓子店 / The fear confectionery shop

Yui: (Waah! The sweets are lined up! How cute…!

(There’s also something called eat-in.)

Yuma: Oi! We haven't come here to eat sweets or something!

Yui: Umm...excuse me. I have heard that hereś the person who had made a giant cake in the plaza.

‘The fear’ store’s manager: Aah! That was my self-confidence work! That was a very splendid cake, right?

Yui: Aah...yes…

(Uuh, itś hard to cut out this topic…)

Yuma: Yup, that was tasty. The sweetness level was perfect.

‘The fear’ store’s manager: Aah, I am so glad to hear that! Come to think of it, who are you? How do you know the taste of that cake?

Yuma: Haa? By eating, ofcourse.

‘The fear’ store’s manager: Eeeeh!!??

Yui: That’s...many things happened and as a result, we broke that cake. We are really sorry!

‘The fear’ store’s manager:  Wawawa - What did you just say!? You broke that cake! That cake was specially made for the parade!

Do-do-do...Do you even know how much materials and time I had to spenk for that!!!! I won´t easily...forgive you!!

Yuma: Shouting like this, itś useless now to get angry for that.

‘The fear’ store’s manager:   What’s up with that attitude! You have broken my masterpiece cake...how terrible...uuuh!!

*The manager collapsed*

The fear confectionary assistant: Manager! Please hold on!!

Yui: Manager!?

The fear confectionary assistant:  Haah...first of all, I will listen to your conversation. Please continue if from the very first.

Place: ザフィーア 菓子店   厨房 / The fear confectionery shop, kitchen 

Yui: (Waah! The smell is very sweet. Thereŕe a lot of designers here! Everyone looks so busy…)

The fear confectionary assistant: Until recently, every members were just focusing on making a huge cake.

fear confectionery assistant: It has such a big size, so itś very didfficult to to arrange the materials, to bake and even to decorate…

This is why...when the cake was done, we were so happy that we held our hands in hands together.

Yui: Is that so...umm...we are really sorry.

Yuma: ….But, the paradeś is still continuing, right? That open place won look good if thereś no cake out there.

The fear confectionary assistant: We are getting so much advertisement from our customers...I want to do something.

Yuma: So, let’s start making the cake. Looks like a lot of workers are here. I am somehow excited.

Yui: Um..we will also help you out since we will pay your debt!

The fear confectionary assistant: Before the manager gives us the permission, I can make sure that we will be able to gather necessary ingredients.

Yuma: Haa? Are y'all gonn´ use rare ingredients or something? 

The fear confectionary assistant: It’s not like that. We are in the middle of the parade, so sugars won´t be available everywhere, and it will be harder to get.

When the sugar of our shop was out of stock, we were about to close the shop…

Yui: That’s…

The fear confectionary assistant: Did you notice that there are so many street halls, itś very unusual. There are so many…

Yuma: Well, I don´t get it well, but there's no other problem if you get the sugars, right?

The fear confectionary assistant: Yes...Flour, eggs and raw cream are still affordable.

Yui: (Sugar...I have no idea how much sugar we should get, but...we can´t give up.

We will manage the sugar but please make that big cake one more time!

Yuma: Haaa….

Yui: Please!

The fear confectionary assistant: Understood...I will pass your words to the manager. I am also requesting you to get the sugar.

Yui: Yes!!

Place: グリンマーストリート  表通り/ Glimmer Street, Main street

Yui: (Even though she told me the amount of sugar I have to get...but I didn’t imagine that they’re gonna need such a huge amount…)

Yuma: *Sighs* … … …

Yui: (He is being irritated for searching. Of Course the necessary amount of sugar is something to be shocked.)

Yuma: You! Y’re a completely stupid! Lastly ending up asking the necessary amount of sugar...what have you done, haa!?

Yui: Anyway, I want us to try out searchi individually  where sugar is available

Yuma: Haa? If we search individually, then the parade is gonn’ be over! Let’s steal those  from somewhere!

Yui: We can’t steal! We have to explain our situation and ask others!

Yuma: Damn! Y’ come up with such a lame idea!

Yui: I am sorry...

Yuma: We gotta finish up dealing with this. So? Where should we get started?

Yui: (Where should I say...)

SELECTION ー

Sugar House (Correct +)

Sugar making factory

Yui: What about Sugar House? Since it’s right over there, I am pretty much sure that there’s a lot of sugar stocked.

Yuma: Hehe, it sounds like a simple step.

But, those are very rare...don’t you think it will be a waste to ask them mashed sugars as they put such an effort?

Yui: You are right...maybe we should try going there...they will probably gonna distribute the unmashed sugars…

Yuma: Well, there may be restricted sugar which’s specially produced for parade.  ‘Kay, let’s go!

Yui: Mhm

Place: グリンマーストリート 表通りワゴン前 / Glimmer Main Street Wagon Street

Yui: (Phew...they didn’t understand our excuses pretty well, but they distributed sugars to us one by one.)

(People of this demon world are unexpectedly nice with me...may be because my heart is now a gem.)

(More importantly, Yuma Kun also helped me out...I also gotta do my best!)

Yuma: What’ are ya’ barging about, Sow? Watching me sweating while pulling the rear car, it’s funny to see, haa?

Yui: Y-you are wrong! I was about to thank you…

Looks like we are about to gather our target amount of sugar. Umm...next up isー

*Something sounds like wheel blusted*

Yui: (Hm? What’s this sound…)

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Aaah, that’s weird. I heard that it will get fixed by hitting, but I am not sure it will end up working or not…

Yui: “Cotton Candy���...I didn’t assume that there are such stores in the parade.

Yuma: This trouble...looks like I’m not the only one who’s experienced it.

Yui: Mhm…

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Oh, customers? I am really sorry for this...I am going to repair it right now.

Yui: Not really...Are you fine with it. We can help if you would like to.

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Oh, really? Thank you!

I heard how to fix it when I got this machine...but it’s making me scared now…

Yuma: Ah….As I thought, I know how to fix that.

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Eh!? Is that so? Can you help me out, brother?

Yuma: Kuku~ Leave it to me ….Haah!! 

*Yuma hitted the Machine*

*A huge sound of being damaged*

Yui: (This sound...could it be…!)

(Oh no...cotton candies just bounced and popped out from there…!)

Yuma: Ugh...Oi! Pick those up before more of those come out!

Yui: On it!

(He got such strength....anyway, let’s pick these up as much as possible!)

*After a they are done with picking candies*

*Repairing sound*

Yui: ….Hah..ha...Yuma Kun...I have reached my limit…!

Yuma: Tch! Get fixed already!!

*Yuma hitted machine more time*

Yui: Ah...looks like we did….

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Oh, looks like we’re done with repairing...Thank you so much!

Yuma: Np, I just hitted, that was all. Is that ‘kay?

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Fufu~ It was a great help. Take my cotton candies as a gift.

Yuma: That’s fine though, but if possible, we would like to have sugars.

Yui: For many reasons, we must have to gather some sugars...Please, can you accept this request?

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: But...due to this circumstance, if I finish up using my extra sugars, then it will get tough to recover the crisis...

Yuma: Oi! Who do you think you get rescued from this circumstance? If you’re grateful, then give those!!

Yui: Yuma Kun, dont! We are so sorry for being rude.

Yuma: You!

Yui: I didn’t really intend to help for getting thanks or something. It was just about hitting afterall.

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: I’m really sorry…

Yuma: ...ugh...Let’s go.

Yui: (It’s good that I convinced him. Now, let’s regain our mind, and go for the next step.)

Place: ザフィーア 菓子店   厨房 / The fear confectionery shop, kitchen 

Yui: (After all...we couldn’t gather the perfect amount..)

(But, we must do something...I should try out by requesting them)

‘The fear’ shop’s manager: I refuse!! I won’t make the cake unless I get the necessary amount of sugar, I told you, didn’t I?!!

Yuma: THIS - IS- WHY Make something using these, even though a small one!

The fear shop’s manager: No-no-n-n-n-o-! Stop speaking cocky despite being a lay, ‘cuz it’s just… The things can’t be done, means can’t be done!

Yui: Calm down Yuma Kun...But we still managed some sugars, right? Can’t you even barely make one?

The fear confectionary assistant: I know your feelings, but it’s still not quite yet.

Yui: But somehow…

*Someone Opens the Door*

‘The fear’ shop’s manager: Who’s there? Getting into the kitchen without my permission? What does that mean!

???: Oh, I thought there's a crisis of sugar in this shop...I get some sugar for you. Aah! It’s you guys.

Yui: Eh!? Why are you here…

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: That’s to you that, my shop improved a lot! You were really a great help.

I announced to all the stallholders in the acquaintance for sugar and fortunately, I managed to get some...Here you go.

Yuma: Haa? This is too much! You can use it for cotton candy or yourself!

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: I also thought about that for a while...Somehow I remembered that you guys were working so hard.

Yui: Really, thank you! How can I thank you? I don’t think I will be able to do anything for you…

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: It’s fine! You said earlier, right? “ We’re not helping to receive thanks.” Those feelings of you made me happy.

Yui: (Ah…!)

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Fufu~ Seeing this kind woman to smile...I am so glad to see it. 

*Yui blushes*

Yuma: ...Earlier...That was my bad.

Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Nope. By this, your problem has been solved, right?

‘The fear’ shop’s manager: Since, the perfect amount of sugar is collected, then we got no other choices but to make one.

Yui: This means…!

The fear confectionary assistant: Fufu~ Looks like we'll be busy for a while. Now, it’s time for the workers to get started. You guys, feel free to have some rest.

Place: ホテル・モーントシュタイン  客室 / Guest Room of Mortstein Hotel

Yui: (While waiting, they already prepared the cake…!)

*Sound of spoon*

Yui: This tart (French dish cake) is delicious! Ne, Yuma Kun, what ‘bout having a bite?

Yuma: No…

Yui: Eh? Kyaa!?

*He gets closer*

Yuma: You’re...really cool.

Yui: *Bushing* For any reason...?

Yuma: It was impossible. But...you made it possible at the end. Wonderful...As expected from my woman.

Yui: Embarrassing…!

Yuma: Then, I’ll make it more embarrassing...Nh..*KISS*

Yui: *Kisses back* Nh...nh… 

Yuma: ...kuku~....*kiss*...kiss*...I knew...you’re a perfect woman…*kiss*

Yui: (I am already embarrassed...But for now...I will be like this…)

Yuma: Gimme the tart. I want to eat it.

Yui: Here it is…

Yuma: Umm...tasty! Today, we have eaten only sweet stuffs *eats*

Yui: Yes…

Yuma: It’s fine in a while. Gimme one more.

Yui: (Today I was so exhausted but...I am so happy to have met with many kind people…)

— 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗼𝗳 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝟭—

[leapyearkisses]

Director’s Cut Commentary - Orbs Are Bad News Part 2

Second part of me blathering my thoughts all over this old story per the request of a very nice anon! I am still sleep-deprived, so yay~ Sorry, this commentary is probably way less interesting, since this part is just the sexy stuff, but if you have any particular questions, please send me another ask!

Happy to do any of my stories or just answer asks, whatever. I clearly enjoy reading myself talk XD

Comments in bold below the cut! This part is NSFW. Well, it’s all kinky but there’s also sex.

I forgot to mention this in Part 1, but the title of this story is because the homebrew campaign I ran for my friends involved magical evil crystal orbs. Hence they are bad news.

"Are you ever going to stop sneezing?" Remembrance asked.  At the same time, Cordes said, "One thousand blessings, Llewellyn, one for each."  The two of them were several yards ahead on the road, and only Cordes was looking back over his shoulder.  Right now, the four party members were the only travelers on this particular stretch, although as they got closer to civilization, they'd started to pass the odd wanderer, farmers with wagons, even a merchant or two.  The woods here were broken up periodically by stretches of arable land, clear-cut several decades ago and now waving with wheat, flax, or various vegetable leaves.  The fields were golden in the late sun.  Their shadows stretched behind them like taffy, rippling on the cobblestones.  The day was vanishing quickly, and Gerrit could sense his companions' impatience to move on even as he stopped again himself, drawing out his handkerchief in a now very familiar motion.

 Stick your people in a world. That’s my advice. Don’t have them just floating around in a no man’s land of generic scenery. (Also why I like period/historical snzarios and fantasy stuff, because reading about plain people in an apartment somewhere is boring to me.)

Llewellyn, for his part, could not answer them, face buried in his elbow as he ducked with another reluctant outburst. "Hahktschiu!  Hahh- happtsch!"

"Bless," said Gerrit, and he stepped in front of the elf to shield him marginally from view.  He laid one warm hand on the back of Llewellyn's neck and lifted the handkerchief with the other, capturing the next sneeze in the flannel folds.  He settled his fingers firmly around Llewellyn's nose.

This was an arrangement that had been born out of necessity three days ago when the party had raided a bandit camp's plundered stores.  Along with a good stash of gold and gems, they'd found a blue crystal orb, cursed perhaps, that had summarily become attached to both of Llewellyn's hands, rendering the sorcerer unable to do most anything... including take care of his cold on his own.

 On the last episode of Orbs Are Bad News...

Llewellyn blew his nose into the handkerchief, wetting the cloth and dampening Gerrit's fingers through it.  Originally quite opposed to such a display outside of the most private circumstances, the elf had been forced to put his pride aside and let Gerrit help him.  His fever had abated the previous day, but the frequency of his sneezing had increased, as if his body was insistent now on ridding itself of whatever illness remained.  It was a horrific prospect to Llewellyn to catch the resulting mess every time in the sleeve of his robes... so he suffered Gerrit to hold the handkerchief, even though they were walking along the road where any might see them.

Despite some initial teasing, Remembrance and Cordes had quickly grown accustomed to the practice and now cared not at all, except to complain.  "We're going to have to camp again," grumbled Remembrance.  "Five miles from Veigh and we're going to be stuck without a bath!"

 Is five miles a realistic figure here? No fucking clue! I frequently engage in excessive and specific research for my stories, but I didn’t look up how long one might hike for in D&D. Oh well.

"Is there anything I could do for you?" Cordes asked, somewhat exasperated.  The priest had made several herbal concoctions for Llewellyn over the past few days, but none had helped the elf's nose much.  Cordes's specialty was unfortunately not the curing of disease but the mending of bones and flesh.

 I will take any opportunity to make up an excuse as to why the snz cannot be contained. You’re welcome lol

"Ndo," Llewellyn growled, as fed up as the rest of them.  "I'm beyond heh- help. Hngtschiu!"

"Bless you, arimelda," said Gerrit, trying to keep his voice even.  He shifted the handkerchief so that Llewellyn could have a drier spot, trying to ignore a glimpse of slickness on the elf's face.  "Remembrance, Cordes, why don't the two of you go on ahead?  Find an inn, get a room, take a bath, whatever you want.  It might be prudent also to send a message ahead to the Mages Guild about the orb.  Will you do that?  Llewellyn and I will join you when we arrive."

 An elvish word appears! I researched this but not walking.

Cordes nodded.  "Yes, I'll draft a letter as soon as- Hey!"  Remembrance had grabbed his arm and was rushing ahead already.

"Let's go, man!" she said.  "Everyone loves a damn priest; you're my ticket to a good room, so may your god help you if you dawdle."  Her pointed tail swished as she practically jogged down the road.  Cordes spluttered but could no more stand up to her as to a tornado, so off they went.  It was a remarkably short time before the two of them were out of earshot, disappearing around a bend.

 And again, removed so that the main characters can bang, lol.

Gerrit sighed but turned his attention back to Llewellyn, who was blowing his nose again.  The handkerchief was running out of clean corners this late in the day, but the elf leaned back this time when he was finished.  "All set?" Gerrit asked.

"Yes."  Llewellyn rubbed his eyes on his upper arm, wiping away a spare tear from the effort.  "...My apologies."  He cleared his throat, refusing to meet Gerrit's gaze.  "We may arrive after dark."

"You're ill," said Gerrit, trying to fold the flannel in a way as to avoid his pocket getting wet.  "We'd move faster if you let me carry y-"

"No."

"Then I don't mind taking a more leisurely pace."  Gerrit smiled.  Even after everything, Llewellyn was stubborn.  Honestly, since they weren't really in a rush, he didn't really care when they reached Veigh; they'd only detoured here to try and remove the orb.  If Llewellyn, the most inconvenienced, didn't want to give up his pride and piggyback on... well, Gerrit found his noble hauteur inexplicably cute.

 Me too, buddy. Don’t worry, you can carry your elf later.

He also wasn't in a particular hurry because it was awfully uncomfortable to make any sort of time with his arousal pressed flush to his thigh.

A reminder that sex is usually going to be involved in my stories. The snz is not enough by itself.

Llewellyn coughed into his elbow and then started walking again.  Gerrit had pulled back his hood for him in the morning and braided his hair, and the crown of plaits caught the afternoon sunlight like an obsidian.  Gerrit tried not to let his eyes linger on the sorcerer's pale nape.  Or any other part of him.  He and Llewellyn had been travelling together for close to three years, working for their current patron in the capital, and in that time Gerrit had felt himself growing closer to the elf.  Wanting to be closer, anyway.  

Llewellyn shot a glance at him and caught him looking.  Gerrit flushed and turned his gaze back ahead to the road.

"You've been very accommodating during all of this," the elf said, tone carefully neutral.

Gerrit shrugged.  "It doesn't bear mentioning.  We're comrades."

"Comrades," Llewellyn repeated, an edge to his voice that Gerrit couldn't quite place.  "Is that all it is?"  He kicked a stick that had fallen to the cobblestones, sending it into the brush. Somewhere to the right, bumblebees droned over a meadow.

 Llewellyn is kind of a asshole and not super great at communicating with any level of affection, although he does get better.

Gerrit swallowed.  "Yes?  You and I, we've helped each other before.  I consider you to be a steadfast companion."  Eyes on the road.  Eyes on the dappled play of shadowed leaves and light on the ground.  "Why do you ask?"

"So shy," Llewellyn exclaimed, a tad mockingly.  "You've never been shy about taking me to bed, Gerrit."  Despite his short height, the elf seemed to find it easy to look down his nose at the much taller fighter.  "Has something changed?"

 Height difference is also personally sacred to me.

"Changed?"  Eyes on the road.

Llewellyn stopped walking.  "You called me 'arimelda.'  'Dearest.'  Did you think I wouldn't hear you over my sneezing?"  He couldn't cross his arms with his hands trapped by the orb, but the set of his jaw was determined and his firm brows were arched.  "I wasn't so distracted then as you seem to have thought."

Gerrit shoved his hands in his pockets.  He stopped walking but didn't turn.  "Apparently not," he muttered.  "Look, we can set it aside.  Doesn't have to mean anything – doesn't have to change anything.  I know a highborn elf like you wouldn't consider an official relationship with a half-elven bastard, and I've known that from the start.  For my whole life.  So... I care about you.  But it can just be as comrades, or whatever you want it to be."  Llewellyn was quiet, and after a long minute, Gerrit did turn on his heel, desperate to know what kind of reaction he'd provoked.

 The angst of the half-elven existence! Gerrit is a very typical half-elf in terms of D&D characterization, lol. Despite that, I do find these different-lifestyle pairings interesting, so they keep happening, cliche or not. There is a definite pathos in the elf/human relationship because of the different lifespans, of course - most famously depicted through Arwen and Aragorn, probably, although he’s not the exactly typical human. Anyway, it kind of varies how people like to determine elven and half-elven lifespans in D&D depending on the PHB and your DM’s weary forbearance lol, but Gerrit and Llewellyn will expect to live similar lengths because I’m a sap.

He saw Llewellyn standing with his eyes closed and head titled back, lips parted.  The elf's nostrils flared as he gasped.

"Are you going to sneeze again??" Gerrit asked.  He threw up his hands, then went for his handkerchief once more.  They ­did have an arrangement.

He strode back over to Llewellyn's side and tucked the cloth around his nose again, thumb and forefinger just resting on the elf's nostrils.  He started to rub Llewellyn's back.  "You have the worst timing, you know?  Here I am, spilling my heart to you and everything."  

 I laughed writing this part, too. You can’t always let things just be angst.

"Sh-hhuh-t up, I jh- just nih-" Llewellyn gasped again and gave in; he had no other choice.  "Hahktscht!"  He moaned and pressed closer into the handkerchief, thick congestion only aggravating the itch that remained inside.  "Hkktschtt!  Hngtscht!  Hahh- ah-- ankcxttschiu!"

 That sure is a bunch of letters crammed together!

"Easy... it's okay."  Gerrit massaged Llewellyn’s nose, tried to soothe the irritation.  He guided Llewellyn to the side of the road, and, in a moment of calm, settled him to sit on the grassy bank.  He followed, kneeling at the elf's side.  Llewellyn was tearing up again and his nose was twitching against the pads of Gerrit's fingers.  Gerrit felt electric all over.  He found himself wishing the handkerchief was gone so that he might touch the soft, heated skin of Llewellyn's septum, coax the elf to relax and loose his tension, sneeze into Gerrit's palm.  The mess didn't bother him; none of it bothered him.  He was supremely unbothered.  His cock was almost painfully hard.

It took several more minutes punctuated with more urgent expulsions before Llewellyn seemed to trust himself to speak.  His eyes were wet with unshed tears, eyelids tender and reddened.  His nose was brightly ruddy, running to chapped.  He had to take a shaky breath, collecting his thoughts.  "Gerrit."

 I’m a very visual writer. This kink is extremely visually-based for me. I wish I could draw as well as I want to so I could depict these scenes how I imagine them, but eh.

"Yes?"  Gerrit lowered the handkerchief, gently pinching as he did to clear any lingering moisture.  He wasn't ready to hear a rejection, nor did he feel particularly ready for a lecture or a tirade or even a logical exploration of why a relationship was a bad idea.  He wanted, if possible, to keep walking to Veigh, side by side, listening to the bees and dragonflies and songbirds settling in for the evening, feeling the light breeze on his face, replete with the scents of summer.  

"Kiss me."

Gerrit blinked, mental caravan bunching to a halt.  "What?"

 i am so funny omg

Llewellyn nudged him in the chest with the orb.  "Kiss me.  You're all worked up."  He cleared his throat.  "And judging by the state of you, you're not put off by my cold.  So?"  He tilted his head to the side, gently, closed his eyes.  "I want you to kiss me."

 An example of the B character not really forcing the admitting of the fetish but just kind of not caring. That is also okay, and I think it’s normal. People don’t just admit to all their kinks immediately upon entering a relationship.

Baffled, but feeling as though maybe all was not lost, Gerrit obliged, pressing their lips together.  His own eyes slid closed and he cupped Llewellyn's cheek, deepening the kiss, touching their tongues together, trying to convey how he felt.  Whatever had changed.  The kiss lasted for too short a time; Llewellyn broke away to breathe, eyes half-lidded, but he didn't lean away.

 I’ve never kissed anyone, but I consume media. I feel like I am pretty good at depicting things regardless of experience.

"I'm not going to dismiss you out of hand," he said.  "You or your feelings.  But I would ask for some time to think."  He looked up through his lashes.  "Are you feeling better?"

 Another thing I like in romance, even in kink short stories like this, is a more realistic portrayal of the confession than just “It was obviously meant to be~”

Gerrit could feel his pulse in every extremity.  "Not really," he managed, and he kissed Llewellyn again, this time sliding one hand under the elf's head and one at his hip and pressing him back to lay in the grass.  He moaned in his throat as Llewellyn kissed back, and when they had to break for breath, he started to kiss at Llewellyn's forehead, jaw, throat, wherever he could touch skin.  His hands roamed over the elf's body, smoothing over hip and thigh and belly until he could start to undo the buttons on Llewellyn's close-cut robes.

"Gerrit," gasped Llewellyn.  He moved the orb between them, jamming it into Gerrit's sternum.  "You are not going to sleep with me on the side of the damn road!  Get ahold of yourself!"

 He has standards!

Gerrit growled at the quick pain in his chest, then shook his head and leaned back.  He flushed deeply and pulled his hands away.  "Oh.  Oh, fuck, sorry.  I-"

"Pick me up."  Llewellyn lifted his arms.

"What??"  Gerrit's brain was having a hard time keeping up at the moment, all of his blood being elsewhere.

"There was a thicker copse of trees back about thirty feet, on the left."  Llewellyn waved the orb at him.  "Pick me up.  We can lay down there."

 His standards are NOT that high! But he does have them!

So.  So Gerrit ducked his head into the circle of Llewellyn’s arms and picked him up, holding him securely and setting off down the road again, back the way they’d come.  The elf was right; there, about twenty feet back from the bank, was a thick copse of pines, all grown together with wild geranium and maidenhead ferns.  Gerrit pushed through, shoulder first.  Despite its proximity to the thoroughfare, the inside of the stand was quiet and shielded completely from view.  This would do nicely.

 Told you you’d get to carry him soon.

He set Llewellyn back on his feet and made short work of undressing him, first freeing the sorcerer from his pouches and bags, then undoing the silver buttons on his robe from his collarbone to his crotch.  The rich fabric fell open appealingly.  Next, Gerrit freed the elf from his boots and leggings.  A long white shirt, woven from the finest of elven angora, still covered him, but Gerrit pushed the fabric up over Llewellyn’s belly, leaning in to kiss the elf again and touching him intimately.

Llewellyn moaned and nudged Gerrit’s hip with the orb.  “Now you,” he said.  “I want to see your body.”

Gerrit complied, making quick time shedding his cloak, pack, leather armor, breeches, boots.  Two daggers, two short swords, caltrops, a bow and quiver, a glaive, and a spiked whip followed.  He pushed them to the side as Llewellyn rolled his eyes.

This is another funny trope lol, like when a hero or assassin or someone has to go through airport security and the metal detector keeps beeping because they’re carrying 18 knives on their person. Fighters are proficient in every weapon, so why not have one of everything?

"You can't possibly have a use for all of those," the elf said, and then Gerrit captured his mouth again.

He laid Llewellyn down on the soft carpet of pine needles, using his cloak to cover the ground and double as a makeshift pillow.  The elf was beautiful in the shifting shade, skin flawless.  He had the orb resting on his chest and it glowed intermittently in the inconstant sunlight.  The gold chain netting that encapsulated both the orb and Llewellyn's fine-boned hands glimmered.  "You know," said Gerrit, smoothing a hand down Llewellyn's bare thigh.  "You'd look pretty good bound up in gold chain."

"This isn't enough for you?"  He scoffed.

Gerrit laughed.  "It would be fun to tease you.  I love it when you fuss at me.  So cute."  He dodged Llewellyn's elbow and settled down on his stomach, hooked one of Llewellyn's legs over his shoulder, and nuzzled the base of the elf's cock.  "Ready, arimelda?"  His own cock was under him, pressed to his stomach in the confines of his shirt.  He could feel his pulse in the head of it, quickening with the scent of his lover.

"Yes, you prick," sighed the elf, and he moaned when Gerrit started to kiss him and lave his skin.  His fingers flexed on the orb, longing to wind into Gerrit's hair.

 Licking is kind of thing, and I love writing about fellatio so. Yay~

Gerrit took Llewellyn into his mouth eagerly, fingers curled over the elf's thighs, fingertips pressing at the sensitive inner surface as he sucked and teased and swallowed.  Like this, he could focus on Llewellyn's pleasure.  The noises the usually stoic and prideful sorcerer was making were enough to make Gerrit moan, mouth full, and rock his hips.  Nothing pleased Gerrit more than seeing Llewellyn undone, seeing the elf flushed and open and undone for him.  And he shivered, all over, when he heard the elf's breath catch and his tone go wavery.  He thought he could come from this, listening to Llewellyn sneeze while pleasuring him implacably with a heated, well-placed tongue.

 This is also VERY IMPORTANT. Caretaking to the point of like, partner worship idk. It’s good!!

"Aa, aa, ahh- ih- Gerrit, I-" Llewellyn drew his knee up, curling, heel drawing along Gerrit's back.  "I nih- need to snih- hh-"

Gerrit drew his head back, let Llewellyn's cock free for a moment.  He didn't loosen his grip on the elf's legs, though, wound up and desirous.  "Okay by me, melda, it's okay.  Feel all right?  Want me to stop?"  He was breathless himself, had to force the words past the distraction of his arousal, but he would abide.

 Consent is the sexiest thing.

"No, don't stop," Llewellyn groaned, then turned his head to the side.  "Hpptscht!  Hah- Haktschiu!"

"Bless, bless."  Gerrit kissed Llewellyn's thigh tenderly, then nipped it, drew his tongue over the hurt, sucked a bruise to mark its place.  He swallowed Llewellyn down again as the elf cried out in pleasure and then bent with another helpless burst.  Gerrit wondered if he could make Llewellyn come simultaneously with a sneeze and what that might feel like.  The fantasy set him alight.  His abdomen was tight, his cock like a brand on his stomach. He redoubled his efforts.

Gerrit felt it first, when Llewellyn came, in the tightening of the elf's thighs and stomach, then tasted the salt of his release.  His world narrowed down to taking it in, swallowing, milking with his mouth while Llewellyn cried out, going until the elf was pushing him away, keening, oversensitive.  He didn't wait to lift Llewellyn then into his lap, cradling him with one arm and stroking himself with the other hand, desperate to come as well.  Llewellyn pressed his face to the junction of Gerrit's neck and shoulder, tightly gripping the cloth of Gerrit's shirt as they rocked together.  The elf's nose was gently wet and he was panting, sniffling.  Gerrit came with a shout, holding him close, shaking with an overabundance of pleasure.  He let go of his cock and embraced Llewellyn fully.  He had enough presence of mind not to confess to anything, but he couldn't stop himself from murmuring how beautiful, how soft.

 okay. o__o There’s only so much I can say about writing the porn lol. I write what I want to read.

Gradually the world came back.  Birdsong, first, and the bees, the sounds of the trees swaying in the light breeze.  The lingering heat of the day, dampened by the shade and the growing dusk.  The musty smell of pine needles and the sharper hint of sap, the scents of sex, the pressure of Llewellyn astride his lap, the bite of uneven ground against his knees.  Llewellyn was touching his cheek, trying to say something sweet, failing because of his cold again.

 I tried to write this part so that it would not be immediately obvious to the reader, as it is not to the characters, that the orb is gone.

"Ah- hh- Ttschgktst!"

Wetness against his neck.  Gerrit wound his fingers with Llewellyn's and kissed his jaw.  "Bless you," he said.  "I'll find you a healer in Veigh.  We'll get you well again.  Right after we free you from the orb."  He laid his cheek against the back of Llewellyn's hand tenderly.  Then he paused. "Wait."  Straightening, he brought his hands between them.  The right was laced with Llewellyn's left.  "The orb is gone."

Llewellyn straightened also, looking down at his hands.  His hands with no orb.  He lifted them both, amazed.  And then wiped his nose on his wrist, sighing in pleasure.  Gerrit tried not to blush despite everything.

 Me too, buddy.

"Where did it go?" he asked, looking past the elf's shoulder.  "Why did it come off?"

"Who even cares at this point??"  Llewellyn had let go of him and was stretching, running his palms over his body, touching his own arms and face and cock, finally able to move and feel again after three days of magical bondage.  He wiggled his fingers and then clapped his palms together, raising a small flame with their parting.  "I have my freedom back.  I can cast spells again.  I can-" He smiled brilliantly.  "I can touch you, too."  He dropped his hands suddenly to Gerrit's lap, nimbly taking Gerrit's cock between them.

Gerrit lost track of the orb immediately.

 Me too, buddy.

---

It was dark indeed when the two of them made it to the inn in Veigh, but both were in high spirits.  Gerrit had relinquished handkerchief duty back to Llewellyn with a great internal mourning, but he could always fantasize about this again in the future (he did, frequently), and he knew that Llewellyn, despite his best efforts, would catch more colds on the road (he did, more frequently than he would like).

I would love to play a fetish-friendly D&D campaign, but it would be way too embarrassing, probably. My current PC has allergies, but I have never mentioned them in-game and probably never will lol. God help me if my DM ever remembers that I wrote them into my character sheet.

Remembrance and Cordes had only been able to secure one room, it seemed, with two beds.  Gerrit resigned himself, going up the stairs, to sleeping on the floor. But... it was apparent upon entering the small space that... well, their priest and thief had ended up taking up only one of the beds, together.  Gerrit and Llewellyn traded glances.

"I don't think I want to ask," said Llewellyn, going for the free bed.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Gerrit replied, joining him.

The untold story, lol

In the morning, Cordes, with great dignity sprung from embarrassment (the cause of which he did not volunteer) informed them that a letter had not been sent to the Mages Guild yet.  He was immensely relieved to find that one was no longer needed and quick to congratulate Llewellyn on his newly regained freedom.  Remembrance just chuckled from the bed and took her time buckling her armor back on.  

Already in Veigh, the party spent some time stocking up on medicines and liquefying some of the heavier treasures they'd liberated from the bandit camp.  Gerrit sent a message on to their patron to expect them back in the capital in a couple of weeks, barring disaster.  They purchased horses and set out, ready for the next adventure.

---

The orb lay still in the pine thicket, nestled like an egg among the ferns, waiting for the next hapless traveler. 

 Faust’s Orb of Rope Bondage. Make a Will saving throw [DC 15] upon touching the orb with any body part, wearing clothes or not. Upon a failure, the orb will find its way to adhere to the hand of the hapless adventurer. If both hands touch the orb, they will both be stuck. If two people fail the save, one of each of their hands will be stuck. The spell can be broken only if each attached party has an orgasm.

I GUESS

[constablewrites]

In Which I Give Way Too Much Thought to the Sex Lives of Animated Characters

I’ve fallen off the wagon on my weekly posts here, because ::gestures vaguely at 2020:: It isn’t that I haven’t had observations to make, more that I lacked the particular motivation to actually write them up. But there’s one thing that can always drive me to the keyboard: getting nice and annoyed!

Star Wars Rebels is a deeply irritating show, mainly because when it is good, it is truly excellent, but there’s a lot of meh to wade through to reach those moments. It seems to be aimed at a younger audience than Clone Wars, and lacks that show’s advantages of both the well-established characters from the films and its urgent newsreel energy (because who needs Act I when Tom Kane can just yell exposition at you). There are a lot of interesting ideas and setups in Rebels that just never get properly explored, but the one I found most disappointing was the relationship between Kanan and Hera.

(Major spoilers after the cut. Go watch the show, it’s not terribly long and, as I said, the good stuff is really good.)

I was surprised by how much Kanan’s character grabbed me. Maybe it’s because I find the concept--someone who knows he’s unfit to be a mentor but has no choice but to fake his way through--to be highly relatable as an elder millennial, or maybe it’s just that I glom onto protector characters. He has great chemistry with Hera, and I am a shipper of the highest order. So when the final season started focusing on their romance, it should have been catnip for me.

Reader, it was not.

Oh, the interrupted kiss when they’re trying to get out of the city on Lothal is solid ship-tease stuff, to be sure. But then you get to 4x7 “Kindred” (not gonna link a video because I couldn’t find a good one and the damn things always get taken down later anyway). Kanan asks if she’s ever thought about their future together, Hera demurs and says that he knows how she feels. He isn’t so sure, so after a bit of cockblocking from the A-plot, she kisses him for the first time (that we see). The exchange is brief and doesn’t quite fit the established dynamic, but it’s fine.

The problem is, immediately after that kiss, she gets on a ship and leaves for rebel command. The next time Kanan sees her is the rescue mission that kills him. So for the [Babies Ever After] epilogue to make sense, one of these things must be true:

Force ghosts can fuck

They find time during the harrowing escape to sneak away and hook up

Hera is already pregnant when she leaves Lothal

Not only do the first two seem unlikely, but the third point works with most of the rest of the series. A show with such a young audience was probably never going to state outright that two characters are doing it, so they just have to imply it in ways that older viewers will pick up on: Hera calls Kanan “dear” in the very first episode. They talk to each other about things they don’t talk about with the rest of the crew. And Kanan being squirrelly on Ryloth? That isn’t a guy meeting the father of his best friend or even his crush, that is [recognizably] a guy meeting the father of the girl he’s boinking.

I don’t have a problem with a kids’ show not getting into detail about the love lives of its parental figures, and I honestly think more media should feature healthy, established couples. But I feel like the writers realized that they couldn’t show the impact Kanan’s death has on Hera if their relationship is entirely off-screen. So they did finally make it clear that this is a romance--but they did it in a way that makes it seem like the romance started right there at the end, since Hera’s unhappy “We’ve talked about this before” gives the impression that she’s turned him down in the past. And that just doesn’t add up. (Not to mention the sudden ramp-up makes it pretty obvious that one of them is gonna die.)

But this isn’t Fandom Bitching Wednesdays. Was there a way to do it differently?

Potential fix: Cut the kid. Probably the most straightforward, since that’s what creates the out-and-out plot hole Issues: Also the most depressing option. Kanan’s son is the thing that gives him a happy(ish) ending, allowing a part of him to live on beyond just the memories of his friends. Plus, it makes their interactions in the early seasons kinda confusing if they were never supposed to be in a relationship at all.

Potential fix: They were in a relationship but were very private about it and avoided any PDA around the rest of the crew. Conversation plays out more or less the same, but Hera’s reluctance to talk is because she’s aware that the others are watching, and the kiss is significant because she’s choosing not to hide anymore. Issues: My vote for most satisfying option, but would still benefit from a scene or two earlier in the series setting it up. Also means that if you wanted to keep the bit at the fuel depot where Hera tells Kanan she loves him as a big climactic moment, you would definitely need to establish why she’s never said it before. (Especially because she calls him “love” during the evacuation of Chopper Base.) There are plenty of options for this that would fit in with her character--perhaps something about her own parents, or how they’re in a war, or how she just thinks it’s less complicated if no one knows--but you would have to pick one and show it.

Potential fix: They were in a relationship but it wasn’t “serious,” or perhaps was even a strictly friends-with-benefits arrangement. So when Kanan is asking about their future, it’s not a new thing but an escalation, and builds more naturally toward Hera saying she loves him. Issues: This is how I tried to headcanon it initially, because it’s the only thing that makes any of it make sense as-is. And it’s easy to see how Kanan would have initially been happy with that setup (more on that in a second), but less so for Hera, with her pet names and talk of how they’re a family. As above, her reason for putting up that barrier, and for keeping it up this long, would need to be clearly established.

Potential fix: FWB but reverse this scene: Hera is the one who wants more and Kanan is resisting. I mean, come on guys, the “Jedi are forbidden to form attachments” thing was right there. It’s a stupid rule, but you have the opportunity for Kanan to acknowledge it as a stupid rule and reject it. Kanan is also exactly the kind of guy who would try to ride out the loophole of “It’s okay that I’m in love with her if I never say it or call her my girlfriend.” Variant: they were in a typical relationship but Kanan pulled back when he trained with Bendu to control his emotions, so what Hera wants isn’t something new, but rather what they had before. Issues: The dynamic of “girl wants romance, boy can’t express emotions” is pretty played out. The fact that Kanan broaches the topic by asking what would end her involvement with the Rebellion further adds an interesting angle that builds on stuff that’s been brought up before--war is all she’s ever known so she doesn’t shy from it, while he feels like he’s already survived one war and wants to be done with it--and you lose that if she’s the one who raises the question. It also follows that he would then be the one to say “I love you” at the fuel depot, which somewhat dampens the power of his sacrifice to say that for him.

Perhaps the real lesson here is that sometimes there aren’t any perfect solutions to story problems, just a series of trade-offs. This is especially true in a serialized medium, where part of the story might already be out there by the time you realize you would need to make changes to it to properly set up where you want to take it. If you missed the chance to show us a very important conversation, the best you can do might just be to reference that it happened and hope (in vain) that your audience will just roll with it instead of being nitpicky bastards.

And maybe Force ghosts just fuck, I dunno.

[crazycrackersworld]

So today was hard but it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. My Uncle Jerry gave my mom some good news in regards to Tim looks like they're getting his oxygen levels close to where they should be in they're going to try a few different things which is good. Uncle Jerry is going to let Mom and I take him to the dollar store tomorrow that's good get him out of the house and stuff. Apparently my mom told him my adventure with the rat for my job today and it made him laugh so that's a good thing.

I am still worried about Tim I send him text messages and sometimes audio clips you know just reminding him to fight and get better and get the hell out of that hospital so I've kind of fallen off the wagon and bought a few packs of cigarettes last couple weeks and I've been doing the thing that I used to do back in the day where you pack your cigarettes when you open them you take one cigarette out you flip it upside down you put it back in the pack and it's here lucky cigarette you smoke that one last and then she lied it you make a wish. There are times in the last year where that wishes I'm sure as you all know focused on the redhead. Sometimes it's focused on my kids, but the last few weeks when I would have a pack of cigarettes and I wouldn't have the lucky cigarette that wish obviously was for my hand and I guess I'm going to switch it to Tim and I hope it works.

I did not get a whole lot of sleep last night Jackie checked in on me before I went to bed which was very nice and Tiffany talked to me for a while which was also nice but I only slept for like an hour or 45 minutes at a time and then I get up and I'd go outside and I'd smoke and I'd watch the rain and the lightning and it just wasn't a full night's sleep.

I did wake up to a message from one of those important people and I was happy to get it and it did touch me. Didn't even know I told myself that if I didn't hear from that person by midnight last night I was just going to act like they were dead, that didn't happen and I know why I didn't hear from that person last night and I'm going to take care of that problem personally. But it was still nice to hear from her today and it was nice to text back and forth and audio message back and forth because regardless of anything that has her will happen her voice is still one of the ones that calms me down and soothes me and I mean it really doesn't matter what she says she could read the phone book and I would smile. So yeah that made the day suck a little less after I went and did the rat removal which was nice that my boss called me and had me do that it got me out of the house and got my mind on something else the customers that I went to are regulars and they're nice people and I like them. So it was nice to you know see him on a day that I don't normally see them on interact with them they're very nice old couple just good people. the ones I got home from that and I got my work clothes back off and went into my room and actually at that point did finally get to take a nap I fell asleep for a few hours so I got some sleep. Which is good.

And now I'm in my room in the dark with my fans on and a very stiff moonshine drink to help me sleep and I'm downloading my day and my thoughts into this blog cuz it helps.

And yes I had my mom read what I wrote about my aunt the night that I wrote it and what I posted on Facebook about her this morning and of course you know the first thing my mom said if she didn't say it she just looked at me and I know the look and it's that look of how I should write a book or something.

And I think maybe when I get back from Wisconsin maybe I'll get a laptop maybe try start writing in different medium than here on good old tumblr. But I still also so badly want a camera I wish I knew someone had one or just didn't want one or give me one or sell me one for cheap I really want a camera camera I mean my phone takes good pictures but I want a camera because I'm really just looking at the world differently I'm really enjoying taking the pictures.

Because I kind of think I want to take pictures and then write stories or poems or verses that have to do with the pictures since a lot of times that's what inspires me anyways I don't know just throwing things out there.

So anyways yeah today was a hard day but it was easier than I thought it would be and I cried here and there I did and and I miss her I do I miss her already. And I do once again have to say thank you so the brown-eyed angel that reached out to me today didn't have to but did. And talking with that brown-eyed angel wasn't the only thing that made the day easier but it was definitely one of the things that did so thank you.

And so now I'm going to lay by these fans and try to cool off a little bit and hopefully tonight I get better sleep than I did last night and I'm looking forward to seeing my Uncle Jerry tomorrow and we'll just keep moving forward cuz it's all we can do.

[omgjasminesimone]

Masters of Sex Part 2

Bryce x MC

Follow up to this story as part of my 500 followers follow ups celebration.

Word Count: 2500

A week after Bryce and Casey’s hate sex session, Casey is approached by the last person she wants to talk to in the hospital hallway.

“Hi, Dr. Valentine, right? Can I talk to you for a second?” The pretty hospital pharmacist who slept with Bryce several months ago, who Casey thought was basically her boyfriend at the time, asks.

Casey gestures at the lab results she’s going over. “I’m actually really busy.” Casey claims.

“It will really just take a second.” The other woman insists, smiling gently.

Casey resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Fine.” She says shortly.

“Would you like to talk in the cafeteria?”

“Here is fine.” Casey insists, tapping her foot impatiently.

The pharmacist, Kelly, according to her name tag sighs. “Okay then. I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t know you and Bryce had anything going on, I definitely wasn’t trying to step into an existing relationship.” Kelly says softly, keeping her voice low so the doctors, nurses, and patients passing through the halls don’t hear them.

“You can have him if you want. Me and Bryce are done.” Casey replies, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

“Really? That’s not what he said when I ran into him at the gym yesterday. He said you guys were going to try to work it out.” Kelly reports. 

Casey rolls her eyes. Why would Bryce send this woman here to talk to her? Did he think this was going to help?

“Well, I guess he got his wires crossed, because we’re done. So, feel free to continue to sleep with him.” Casey insists. Casey turns on her heel and walks away before Kelly can respond. She’s fuming as she heads to the on-call room where she knows Bryce is likely napping between surgeries. 

She opens the door, and there he is, asleep on the small cot. She closes the door loudly enough to wake him up. 

Bryce starts as he wakes, reflexively checking his pager before he realizes that’s not what woke him up. His bleary eyes drift up to Casey. “What-” He starts, but Casey quickly interrupts. 

“Why did you tell the pharmacist that we were trying to work it out?” Casey asks, tone harsh. 

Bryce furrows his brow in confusion. “That’s not what I told her. I said I wanted to try to work it out.”

“Why would you even tell her anything in the first place? Did you want her to report back to me? Make me think that all of a sudden you’re going to act like you’re in a relationship?”

“Why would I have asked her to talk to you? It clearly just pissed you off.” Bryce retorts. 

“Then, again, why did you tell her anything?” Casey repeats impatiently. 

“Because, at the gym, she asked if I wanted to come by her place last night. And I told her no, and explained that you were mad at me for the last time I hooked up with her, even though we weren’t officially together, and then I said that I’m not sleeping with anybody else, because I want to work it out with you.” Bryce explains. 

Casey leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Well, don’t deprive yourself on my account. I’m done Bryce. Sleep with whoever you want.”

“I only want you. And I’m going to prove it to you.” Bryce responds with resolve. 

“What do you think you could possibly do to prove that?” Casey challenges. 

“Well, step one is the celibacy. And then…. I’m still working on the other steps to get you back.” Bryce replies, smiling tentatively. 

Casey rolls her eyes, turning towards the door. “Don’t hold your breath.” 

“Mark my words Casey, I’m going to make you fall in love with me, again.” Bryce calls after her.

...

..

“What the hell is this?” Casey asks when she steps into her room a week later. 

“Isn’t it romantic Casey? Bryce filled your room with roses!” Sienna exclaims, collapsing onto Casey’s bed, which has been covered in rose petals. 

“Who let him in here?” Casey complains. 

“Come on Case, the guy had $800 of roses in a wagon, I couldn’t turn him away.” Elijah claims. 

Casey picks up a rose from one of the many bouquets on her floor. “What a waste of money, he should have given me a Visa gift card.”

“Jesus, your heart is ice cold.” Elijah replies, shaking his head. 

“I told him this wasn’t going to work.” Jackie adds, moving a bouquet from Casey’s desk chair so she can sit. 

“I don’t even like flowers. Shows how much he doesn’t even know me. What am I going to do with all of these?” Casey questions. 

...

“Jackie told me you didn’t like the roses.” Bryce says, leaning against the desk as Casey uses the head nurse’s computer to look up her patient’s symptoms. 

“You shouldn’t have wasted all that money.” Casey chastises. 

Bryce shrugs. “I’m not worried about the money. I’m a surgeon after all.”

“A surgical intern.” Casey retorts. 

“Same thing.”

“Very different salary.” 

Bryce laughs at that, smiling at her. Casey quickly looks away. Damn him and that perfect smile. 

“Did you throw them away?” Bryce asks, rising from his leaning position when he sees Dr. Avery coming down the hall. He’ll have to head off to assist with her hernia repair surgery soon. 

“No, Sienna made them into potpourri balls. You know she’s crafty. Sold them at the farmer’s market. She made like $200.” Casey answers. 

Bryce laughs again. “Did she split it with you?”

“Yep, $100 richer. But that could have been $800 if you’d just given me the cash.”

“But I’m not trying to buy you Valentine, I know you’re priceless” Bryce replies with a wink before walking away.  

...

..

Casey wakes with a splitting headache in an unfamiliar bed two weeks later. She glances at her bed mate. Shit. It’s Henry Johnson. A psychology fellow from Edenbrook. She’d gone out to Donahue’s the night before, danced and flirted with Henry, and when she was drunk enough, went home with him. 

She vaguely remembers the sex. Unremarkable. Nothing like with Bryce. 

Double shit, Casey thinks as she sits up, looking out the window. Of course, Henry has to live in the same apartment complex as Bryce. 

It’s not that much of a surprise, a lot of the hospital staff live here because they heavily advertise at the hospital and offer a slight discount. But it’s bad luck none the less. 

Casey checks Henry’s clock. 8:10 AM. Bryce should probably still be at the gym from his morning workout. She’ll just sneak out really quick, and not even have to see him. 

Casey slips out from under Henry’s arm, sliding back into her dress from last night. She catches her reflection in Henry’s bathroom mirror. Make-up from last night still on and smudged, her curls looking a mess. She sighs, preparing herself for her walk of shame. 

She gets into the elevator, glad to see no one else in it. She impatiently presses the button for the lobby. But the elevator stops on the 10th floor, and of course Bryce Lahela is standing there. 

He seems surprised to see her, but quickly schools his expression as he steps into the elevator. 

Casey can’t believe her bad luck. 

“Long night?” Bryce asks. He tries to say it with levity, but there’s underlying jealousy and anger there. Casey rolls her eyes. 

“I don’t owe you anything. We’re not together. I can sleep with whoever I want.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” Bryce responds, somewhat testy. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. “What kind of pie do you like?”

Casey looks at him incredulously as the elevator reaches the lobby. “Pie?”

Bryce nods. “I’m baking you a pie today. That’s step 3. The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.”

Casey walks out of the elevator, heading for the T stop. Bryce follows. “Why are you doing this? I told you we’re done. Maybe one day we can be friends again. But as far as a relationship goes, I’ve clearly moved on.” Casey gestures to her outfit from last night. 

“If it was any good, you wouldn’t be sneaking out of his apartment at 8 in the morning.” Bryce insists. Casey can’t really argue that point, so Bryce continues. “We’re good together Casey, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

Casey ignores that, splitting off from Bryce to head up the street. “I don’t like pie!” She calls over her shoulder.

“Liar, everyone likes pie!” Bryce shouts back.

...

The next day, Casey walks into the kitchen after her shift and finds her roommates all eating cherry pie around the kitchen table. 

“Bryce brought it over a little bit ago.” Sienna informs Casey as she pulls up a chair. 

Jackie cuts Casey a slice, handing it over. 

Casey chews thoughtfully. 

“So, what’s the verdict?” Elijah questions. 

“Hmmm...It’s not bad, but not amazing either.” Casey decides. 

“Come on Casey, you can tell he worked so hard on this. Don’t you see the indentations in the crust?!” Sienna presses. 

Casey shrugs, taking another bite. “He shouldn’t quit his day job.”

...

..

3 weeks later, Casey comes down with a nasty, highly contagious bug. She doesn’t want to infect her roommates, so she checks herself into a hotel south of Boston. She’s absolutely miserable, and pretty sure that she’s dying. She’s almost fallen into a fitful sleep when she feels a hand pressed against her feverish forehead. 

“Ahh!” She screams, rolling away and fighting to get from under the twisted covers. 

“Casey! It’s just me!” Bryce reveals, hands raised in a non-threatening manner. 

“What the hell Bryce? What are you doing here?” Casey asks when her heart rate has slowed down. 

“I heard you were sick.” He replies simply. 

“How’d you even get in here?” 

“Hotel concierges don’t ask a lot of questions when you just say, hey, I’d like an extra key to this room please, Casey Valentine’s.” Bryce answers. 

“That’s terrifying.” Casey mutters. 

“Well, in her defense, I look extremely non-threatening.” Bryce insists. 

Casey rolls her eyes. “Why are you here though? I’m in this hotel quarantining myself so I don’t get anyone else sick.”

Bryce waves off her concerns. “I have an extremely strong immune system. Haven’t been sick in like 15 years. So, I came to take care of you.” Bryce reaches to the nightstand. “Here, take these.” He hands her some medicine. “And drink this.” Some Gatorade. 

Bryce gets up from the bed, moving over to the couch and opening a textbook he pulls from his backpack. “Now get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll make you some soup.” Bryce instructs.

“You really don’t have to do this.” Casey insists, eyes drooping from the sheer exhaustion of being so sick. 

“I want to. Sweet dreams Casey.”

...

3 days later, Casey has recovered. And she hears from one of the surgical interns that Bryce is sick. She knocks on the door of his apartment. It takes him a while to answer the door, wrapped in a blanket and looking absolutely miserable. His expression immediately brightens when he sees her though. “Casey! What a pleasant surprise!” He greets, stepping aside so she can come in. 

Casey can’t help but give him an ‘I told you so look. “So, I guess your super immune system failed you?”

“This is some bug you caught Casey. Takes a lot to take me down.” Bryce insists, slowly lowering himself back onto his couch. 

“Have you eaten anything?” Casey questions. 

“I can’t keep anything down.”

“I know, but you have to eat something anyway.” Casey insists, pulling some warm vegetable broth soup from her shopping bag. “I also brought medicine, and fluids.” She reveals, sitting beside him and handing him the soup. 

“.... Did you think this would be the circumstances that would get you back to my apartment?” Bryce asks, chuckling weakly, but that quickly turns into a rumbling cough. 

“I had thought the only thing that could get me back here is more hate sex, but I owe you one.” Casey quips. 

Bryce laughs, taking a few small spoonfuls of the soup. He sets the soup to the side, leaning down to rest his head in Casey’s lap. Even she doesn’t have the heart to shoo him away when he’s so sick, especially when he’s sick because he took care of her. 

“Sweet dreams Bryce.” She murmurs as he falls asleep. She turns the TV on mute, watching it with subtitles. 

…

..

A few weeks later, Casey collapses to the floor of the supply closet as soon as she closes the door, tears wracking her small frame. She can’t believe she lost her. She ran so many tests, desperate to find why the young girl’s cell counts were so low. But she ran out of time, the child dying while Casey held her hand.

She knows who it is when the door opens, her suspicions confirmed when he gets onto the floor beside her and gathers her into his strong arms. She cries into Bryce’s chest, clinging to him desperately.

“Shh…. what’s wrong?” Bryce tries to comfort when her sobs show no sign of subsiding.

Casey just shakes her head, hugging him tighter as she continues to cry. Eventually, she’s all cried out. And then she tells Bryce about losing her patient.

Bryce wipes her tears away with his calloused thumbs, smiling sadly at her. “Do you want to know what I do when I lose a patient?” He questions.

Casey nods weakly, and Bryce stands, pulling her to her feet as well. He takes her hand, and gently leads her out of the supply closet, into the stairwell, and then up to the 6th floor. He walks her though the hallway and stops in front of the window of the nursery.

Casey looks at the newborn babies, all different shades and sizes. She can’t help but smile when she gazes at them, all bundled up in blue and pink hospital gear.

Bryce steps up to her back, speaking quietly behind her. “When I come up here, it reminds me that life goes on. It’s horrible to lose a patient, especially a young one, but you have to remember that you did all you could. And you’ll learn from this. And hopefully be able to save the next one. There’s always a chance to start over new Casey.” Bryce concludes.

Casey leans back into Bryce’s embrace, observing the room full of new beginnings.

…

..

After thinking long and hard about it, 4 days later Casey sends a text.

Casey Valentine: Do you want to get dinner? So we can talk about starting over new?

Bryce replies seconds later.

Bryce Lahela: Name the time and place, I’m there.

Tags:  @octobereighth  @akrenich  @lovehugsandcandy @regina-and-happiness  @brightpinkpeppercorn  @choicesarehard  @lizeboredom   @desiree-0816  @hellooliviaolivia @dreaming-of-movies  @friedherringclodthing  @weaving-in-words  @fairydustandsarcasm  @goldenjellyfish12   @pessimystic-fangirl  @mimikoasahina  @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl   @god-save-the-keen  @caroldxnvxrs  @cora-nova @emceesynonymroll @choicesgremlin @anxious-arliah @cordoniasmost @lahelable @ohsnapitzlovehacker @pixeljazzy @blk-girl-emoji​

[vintagedaydreams]

The Story That Never Ends (Part ONE-The Hobbit)

Alright, people! I have an absolutely freakin’ awesome person that is going to be collaborating with me on this Never-Ending Story. Give it up for @ramblingwritings​ who is awesome enough to be with me on this out of control wagon! This is just the first part of The Hobbit section– I am working on the other half and will have that updated soon! Once that happens, the next fandom install can be written and uploaded. 😊

This is going to be the story that jumps from Fandom to Fandom as the Reader dies in each. SO, it will be long and probably never really finished. Who knows. There are so many Fandoms to do this with!!

Enjoy!

(If you have a Fandom you’d like to see in it, feel free to drop a line! We have a list going already. But beware, you may be roped into writing some of it if neither of us are familiar with that Fandom! LOL)

Warnings: language, some violence/disturbing imagery (battle, wounds, etc), fantasy (is that an actual warning at this point?)

So without further ado…

@kettnerjanea​

  You were born as you, a human, lived in present time and had knowledge of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien.

You liked all the races, Elf, Man and Dwarf – and sometimes Wizard – but you had really fallen in love with all of the Company of Dwarves during The Hobbit storyline. One in particular!

You had been on your way home from a friend’s house where you had all binge-watched the movies, when a drunk driver hit you. You laid there, broken and bleeding and in so much blinding pain you were sobbing, before you felt darkness finally take you.

You jerked awake, a cry of pain on your lips, but saw that you were in a bed and a room that looked familiar but unfamiliar at the same time.

A dream. You just had a bad dream.

Then you heard voices coming from somewhere else in the house and you swung your legs out from under the covers to get up and saw…hairy feet?!

And then, two sets of memories came hurling at you.

Your life as you remembered: your job, your family, your friends, your slight Tolkien obsession, the walk home, the pain…

And then another set: your life as a Took, running wild with other fauntlings, climbing trees and having adventures, being thicker than thieves with one cousin of yours in particular – Bilbo, your second set of memories helpfully supplied, while the other side of your brain was floundering at the implications.

What was going on?!

And then you were bombarded by a male Hobbit – a Hobbit! – one set of your memories recognized as your Took father and you were bid to hurry up, your coming of age birthday party was that day and there was so much to do!

As you got ready on auto-pilot, you sifted through your memories and yep, you had the last 33 years all there as your life as Juniper Took.

Boy was that going to take some getting used to. No one seemed to be acting any different towards you, but you were definitely out of sorts which thankfully your family chalked up to your excitement of being of Age and able to go and do whatever with no one to ask permission of.

Uh, yeah, that was great too – considering that you’d felt that way long before you became a Hobbit. Thank goodness you “woke up” when you were of Age and not too long before!

And thank goodness you were a Took! That alone could explain away a lot of your oddities you were sure were going to pop up with double memories and the ridiculous amount of confusion you were feeling.

When Bilbo showed up at your party, himself a few years older than you, you were sad to say that you inner fangirled and actually had your favorite Hobbit worried and wondering what on Middle Earth was wrong with you.

You promised to visit him the next day and spent the rest of the party just listening to the instincts and memories of your Took self to not draw too much more attention to yourself. (Thank goodness the Juniper before you got two sets of memories already picked out all the presents for the Hobbits there. You wouldn’t know where to begin as confused as you were now.)

You wanted to listen to your Took side and fully embrace being Juniper Took, but how could you when you could still remember all of your life as a human? And you felt as if you’d been plucked from your life as a human to being thrust into being a Hobbit and how could you just…forget all of who you were and become a Took fully?

You’d lived through your life as human, but you only had memories of living through your life as Juniper Took. Didn’t that mean you were Y/N first and Juniper second?

You’d given yourself a mega headache by the time the party was over and even though you didn’t sleep at all, you were knocking on Bilbo’s door bright and early, worked up into a horrible state – even though your Tookish side was warning  you that it was far too early for any Hobbits to be up after the late hour of the party last night.

Bilbo had blearily opened the door, though both sides of you were pleased to see that his tiredness vanished in the wake of your -probably awful- appearance.

He’d invited you in, got breakfast started and then…then you’d broken down.

“Bilbo, I think I am…crazy.”

The proper Baggins’ blinked at you from the kitchen counter where he was slicing up tomatoes. “Juniper,” he snarked, and you flinched at the unfamiliar name, though he missed it when he looked back down at his counter, “all Tooks are crazy. You’ve known that since you were born – and the whole Shire is aware of it as well.”

Apparently, he was expecting some snarky remark – at least that part of your personality remained the same – but when none came, he looked back up at you.

“Juniper?” he asked and this time, he didn’t miss the flinch you gave. Suddenly, he was standing right beside your chair at the table.

“What is it? Why do you think you’re crazy? What happened?”

You looked up into warm, worried amber eyes and felt tears gather in your own.

“Does this have anything to do with how…odd you were acting yesterday?”

You nodded miserably, finding your gaze landing on the dress you were wearing. Catching sight of your large, furry – furry! – feet you felt a few tears fall down your face.

Who were you now? Not fully Juniper, but certainly not Y/N anymore. You really couldn’t fit in anywhere! Not with two sets of memories, one feeling more real than the other Tolkien one.

“Bilbo…I…” You heaved a sigh. “Perhaps it’s best if we just forget about it.” You didn’t need your close cousin, or one of your favorite characters, to shun you now. The rest of the Shire was only loosely mentioned in the books and movies – Bilbo was the only real tie to the life you knew before at this point!

“Jun—listen here, Favorite Cousin,” Bilbo said firmly, cutting off the use of your Hobbit name when you winced and changing it to the title you’d both bestowed on each other as young fauntlings years ago, “I can see that something is wrong. I’ve been worried since last night, though I thought maybe it was just you finally getting your freedom. But that obviously isn’t it. So tell me: what is it? What is going on?”

Taking a deep breath, you looked up and found both sides of your mind not able to help trusting the warm, gentle Hobbit beside you.

So you told him everything. It took all day and many meals, but you unloaded all of your past life, your present fears and how lost you felt at the moment.

Bilbo had responded by quizzing you on past memories you had of the both of you and you passed with flying colors. Though he looked just as heartbroken as you when you admitted, with a sob, that while you had the memories, you didn’t remember doing them. It was like watching a movie of someone else’s life, just with a lot more detail.

And then, you had to explain what exactly a movie was, which actually made Bilbo believe what you thought as a crazy story.

But then, no Hobbit, Took or otherwise, was able to come up with such things as the life and the technology you described from your…past life.

The thought of your past life made you start crying all over again.

You’d lost your friends, your family, your life, both figuratively and literally.

Bilbo seemed properly appalled for you and had done his best to comfort you.

And he really was good at that.

It wasn’t until you began to tell him that you…well, you knew what was going to happen, that he seemed to be a little less believing.

At first.

“Wait. What do you mean I am going to leave the Shire and travel with a company of Dwarves? Dwarves! And I’m going to go willingly and do what to a dragon?!”

You gave a slight giggle, swinging your now somewhat beloved furred feet as you both sat in the much more comfortable chairs in front of Bilbo’s fireplace.

“Exactly what I said, Bilbo,” you smiled, taking another sip of the delicious tea your cousin always had on hand. (That was one thing you were quite content to embrace about being a Hobbit – the seven meals a day thing was glorious.) “You meet Gandalf the Grey, or…re-meet him I guess?, then the Dwarves and agree to go on their Quest with them. It is an amazing adventure for you. I think…well, I don’t think you’d be complete without it to be honest.”

Bilbo just stared at you, mouth agape before he suddenly hummed and leaned back further into his chair.

“Alright. Say that…say that I believe you, Juniper.” Your flinch was much less pronounced now, though Bilbo still paused.

“There was another name you went by in your…other life, wasn’t there?” the observant Hobbit asked gently, and you found yourself sniffling a bit.

“Yes. But…I’m not that person anymore, apparently.”

“I think you are,” Bilbo said quietly after a moment. “You’re just as much her as you are Juniper. Maybe even more so. You said yourself that you had memories of us throughout the years, memories of your life here, but no memory of actually doing it. But…you remember doing all those things you told me of in your life as a Man, right?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. It feels…wrong to just embrace Jun-Juniper so readily when I don’t really feel that I am her. Regardless of how I look or where I am.”

There was silence before Bilbo suddenly jumped out of his chair, startling you.

“So! What do I call you?”

You looked at him in confusion, but before you could open your mouth he continued, “Your name in your other world. What was it?”

“Y/N,” you said after a hesitant moment. “It was Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well, I don’t think we could get away with calling you by your last name here, not with you being a Took all this time in everyone else’s memories, but I could definitely call you Y/N. No one would blink at a new name, we’ve certainly called each other all sorts of names throughout the years. This would just be another of our oddities.”

The Hobbit before you suddenly swept into a deep, polite bow. “A pleasure you meet you, Y/N. Bilbo Baggins, at your service.”

No matter what your Took side said, though it didn’t put up really any protest at all, you flung yourself out of the chair and into Bilbo’s arms.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you practically sobbed, the sound of your own name the only grounding thing you had here.

Bilbo had sent a letter to your family and had invited you to stay with him for awhile. No one questioned it – everyone in the entire Shire knew of the Took and the Baggins who had made a right nuisance of themselves since they met when you were born.

And wasn’t that an odd thing to think of? Bilbo was older than you but you knew about a lot of his life that not only had happened but that was going to happen.

An evil thought crossed your mind.  Perhaps… a little event changing would not be too amiss on the adventure you were going to wiggle your way into with the Company? By your calculations, you still had quite a bit of time left – Bilbo was only a few years older than yourself – a respectable forty to your newly christened thirty-three.

If the Company wasn’t supposed to come until Bilbo was fifty…well, that gave you ten years to try and make your gentle Hobbit a bit more burglar and less ‘grocer’. And if Thorin could find it in himself not to be a dick straight away, well, it’d make your job all the easier. Why couldn’t Bilbo stay in Erober? Why couldn’t the Thorin line survive the Battle of the Five Armies?

Besides, you’d been thrown into this Juniper Took’s body for a reason. And even though you didn’t remember Bilbo being close to really anyone other than the Gamgees in the book and movie, you and him obviously were still close, even before you got another set of memories.

So, if you were thrown here and were already this close to the main character, might as well change a few things up, right?

Right.

-----

It only took you two months to not only grow as close to Bilbo as you had been before you’d added more memories, but also to convince him that an adventure right now, when you weren’t on a time frame, was a really good idea.

You’d needed someone to confide in so much, you’d brought Bilbo into your confidence about everything. Minus your more radical plot changing ideas. It’d be better if he came to the conclusion to stay in Erober on his own.

But he now knew every detail of not only the Company, but the Lord of the Rings storyline too. And he was not thrilled about his coming nephew in the line of fire and danger if he could help it.

He’d agreed that once Erebor was retaken in a decade and some change, he’d help destroy the Ring he was going to pick up along the way.

You’d been adamant that some things had to happen, some bad things. Otherwise, if the Company wasn’t attacked by goblins, how was he supposed to find the Ring Gollum had?

(You’d also wrangled a promise out of Bilbo that he was take you with him, contract be damned, when the time came.)

But for the moment, you were off to see the Elves in Rivendell, as it was the closest.

You had a plan. One that you obviously told Bilbo about as well.

If you two could travel a bit, befriend at least some of the elves, men, what have you, that you’d meet up with on the way to the mountain, maybe the journey would be easier is some spots. Not just for Bilbo, (and yourself), but for the poor Dwarves who had been driven out of their home for decades now.

Bilbo had been almost beside himself hearing about the plight of the Dwarves and their lost home. You’d practically had to hold him back from leaving for the Blue Mountains to find this soon-to-be-king Thorin and start early.

You managed to talk him into not doing that, since it’d screw everything up. No, best to just familiarize yourselves with at least part of the journey’s roads and meet some hopefully helpful characters beforehand.

Though befriending Elves wouldn’t endear either of you to the Dwarves, especially Thorin, but…well, they were Elves and Bilbo was over the moon. Once you’d mentioned Elves, well, it was all you could do to make sure you both actually gathered supplies for the journey, rather than just run out the door.

If you knew that Bilbo’s excitement for the Elves would be this bad, (and you should’ve), you would’ve mentioned Elves two months ago.

Honestly – who was supposed to be the elder of you two? You or him?

You finally got everything situated and had only just left the Shire when who should you both come across but Gandalf the Grey.

His timing really was uncanny at times.

“Bilbo Baggins and Y/N Took. I should have known.”

You and your cousin, (that still took a little getting used to), just gaped at the older, wizened man.

“What….oh! You must be Gandalf then?” Bilbo asked first, (since he didn’t remember him at all from meeting him so long ago), while your brain was still trying to catch up to the fact that the wizard had called you Y/N, not Juniper.

Bilbo cottoned on to that too, because his brow furrowed and he leaned over the pony he was somewhat successfully riding to mutter to you, “That is a little creepy. Like you said. Does he know everything?”

“I am honored that I have been spoken about,” Gandalf cut in, eyes twinkling. “And no. Alas, I do not know everything, but in this case, I think, I may know just enough.”

You were aware you were an odd sight, a female Hobbit, Took or no, astride a pony in breeches and a blouse and vest, and gaping quite unattractively at the wizard.

But…he’d called you by your real name!

Well, it definitely made things easier if he already knew everything. There were still things you had probably forgotten to tell Bilbo – it was hard to remember every little thing between four books, six movies and all the years of your previous life. Not to mention the thousands of fanfictions.

Yes, there was probably something you had forgotten to pass on – Gandalf knowing everything already would be so much easier.

“Off to see the Elves?” Gandalf asked from his own horse and you and Bilbo both grimaced.

“Yes,” you muttered after a moment, “that is creepy.”

The wizard laughed.

“And yet, you know more than I about events about to unfold.”

“Yes, but I have a good excuse,” you said somewhat petulantly. “And I don’t have any idea what’s going to happen in the next ten years. Only when the Company arrives. Before that I’m just as lost as everyone else.”

“Then this will be good for the both of you,” Gandalf decided with another eye twinkle. He really was starting to remind you of Dumbledoore. Huh. Dying and ending up in the Harry Potter world would have been fun too.

“Perhaps you would allow a lonely old man to accompany you on your travels. It has been some time since I’ve seen my old friends in Imladris.”

You and Bilbo exchanged another glance and then you both shrugged in tandem. The past few months, you had been speaking with Bilbo not only about your life as human you and the story of what was to come, but also more in depth about the memories you had as Juniper.

You had never felt closer to anyone than you did you Bilbo. And, he’d told you one night, he felt closer to you now than he did when you were just Juniper with only Juniper’s memories.

Cousins, nothing. You and Bilbo acted like twins, despite the age difference.

“Sure, Gandalf,” you said with a grin, “we’d love the company. Might as well get to know you well know, yes?”

You three started off again and then Gandalf cast you a sidelong look.

“I assume you’ll be joining the Company then in a few years’ time?”

You gave as innocent a grin as you could with Took blood, “What on earth would make you think that?”

Gandalf chuckled yet again.

“Two burglars for the price of one. I think Oakenshield will find that acceptable.”

Gandalf’s eyes widened a bit when Bilbo didn’t react at all – no questions, no concerns, just a placid smile.

“He knows all about the Company and the…Adventure then?”

You gave a grin, not even bothering with trying to be Innocent. “Yup! Gandalf, I can’t keep secrets from my brother!”

“Cousin,” Gandalf corrected, though it was more a question and you felt something warm unfurl in your chest when Bilbo spoke up, “Brother.”

The three of you traveled slow and sedate, giving Bilbo, (and yourself), much needed practice on the ponies. It wouldn’t do for the Company to see you as burdens right off the bat. Better to lull them into a false sense of security first.

Gandalf was ridiculously helpful once he realized that you and Bilbo both planned to help the Company as much as possible.

You didn’t tell Gandalf all, but just enough for him to understand that the Dwarves were going to have a hard journey. But that you and Bilbo were determined to spend the next ten years trying to smooth the way as much as possible and learn as much as you could to actually be helpful. Right from the start.

Arriving in Rivendell was amazing for both you and Bilbo. While you had seen it in the movies, it was so much more magical and breathtaking in person.

Bilbo wasn’t fairing any better, being in absolute awe himself.

Lord Elrond came and greeted you by your human name as well and you gaped, once again, unattractively at the Elf lord.

Gandalf knowing made sense but how did – then you remembered Elrond’s gift of foresight.

“You saw me coming!” you pretty much accused the Elf lord, much to Bilbo consternation and Gandalf’s amusement.

“I did, Lady Y/N,” Elrond affirmed, his own amusement shining through. “Myself, as well as Lady Galadriel, saw what would happen to you in your own world and how you would come to be here in ours. I must say, you have shown remarkable adjustment to the situation. And much quicker than we had imagined.”

You flushed, but sent a very thankful, meaningful look to Bilbo.

“If it wasn’t for my brother, I wouldn’t be half as adjusted,” you murmured and gave a soft laugh as you saw Bilbo flush as well. What a pair you two were.

“Come,” Elrond said after a moment, “you are most welcome here, for as long as you wish. I have seen great things in store for the both of you.”

Bilbo looked at the Elf lord in surprise. “For the both of us?”

You snorted before Elrond could answer.

“Bilbo. I may be from another world, well…half of my mind may be from another world, but you are the main character! If anyone should be asking if we both have great things in store for us, it should be me. Not you. Besides, I already told you at least part of the great things you have in store for you.”

“Yes, Master Baggins,” Elrond said with a gentle smile, still with amusement dancing in his eyes, “great things are in store for the both of you. But before we get into any of that, you must be tired. I imagine that traveling this far, and on ponies, is different for you both. Come, let us show you to your rooms and get you settled.”

It hadn’t taken long before you and Bilbo were both settled, fed and asleep in your rooms. It had been a long journey, even though Gandalf had not been in any hurry and you had had frequent stops and rests.

The next morning at breakfast, Bilbo had laughed at how much he had appreciated a soft bed after only a week on the road. He admitted, as you agreed wholeheartedly, that it was a good thing you were both traveling now and getting used to this before the Company arrived.

Ten years sounded like a lot to the human half of your mind, but the Tookish half didn’t seen daunted. Ten years wasn’t much to a Hobbit and you had to use the next years well.

The journey to the Elves had given both you and Bilbo a yearning for more adventure and an excitement for the Company’s journey.

When Elrond suggested you stay for awhile in Rivendell to get familiar with it and its people, you and Bilbo both readily agreed.

After all, that was the point of all this traveling – to try and make the journey as easy as possible for your soon to be Dwarven companions.

“You and Bilbo are quite brave to undertake all of this extra journeying,” Elrond had said one day as he found you standing on the balcony of your room. Honorifics had been dropped the second day you were all there – mostly for your benefit. It wasn’t your fault that honorifics weren’t a thing in your world, or high in priority for the Took side of you either!

“I’m not sure brave is the best word,” you laughed, turning to the Elf lord beside you. “But I wasn’t sure I could stay in the Shire any longer. A few months was bad enough with my…confused state. And I’d been at Bilbo’s almost the entire time – we needed to get away. I couldn’t go…home.”

Because your home was worlds away.

A large hand settled gently on your shoulder.

“Galadriel and I have been watching you since before the day you awoke here in this world. You have shown remarkable bravery, Y/N. Your world is a lot different than ours and while the Took side of you is helpful in settling you here, we are aware of how torn you feel. How…unreal this body and the memories of Juniper Took are to you.”

The Elf lord paused for a few moments, though his hand did not leave you.

“I had elves ready to come to the Shire and take you here so we could help you adjust, but Galadriel had sent a message to tell me that she had foreseen your Took side’s cousin – Bilbo – helping you and becoming an invaluable companion. We were both pleased, though not shocked as we have come to know you before and after you awoke as Juniper, that you chose to use the next few years to help smooth the way for your Company. Erober is almost ready for its rightful ruler to return. It does our old hearts good to see how you and Bilbo are preparing yourself for the journey. You shall be invaluable to them.”

You blinked back tears, feeling a small piece of yourself settle. Elrond and Galadriel, they knew. Yes, Bilbo knew about your time, but only because you had told him. The two Seers knew of your time, of who you were because they had seen it. They knew you.

And it was a wonderful feeling.

You felt yourself get pulled gently into Elrond’s embrace and let loose a soft sob.

“I miss technology,” you muttered into his chest and the answering chuckle, the knowledge that Elrond knew what you were talking about without you having to explain it, made you sob just a little bit harder.

Elrond had escorted you to dinner, (seriously, best thing about being a Hobbit was the enormous capacity for food!), and then you and Bilbo had gone to the library to begin some research.

Just wandering around the whole of Middle Earth was not probable, especially with Orcs, Goblins and bugs out there, so you both needed to learn as much as you could bookwise. At least for now.

You also didn’t want Bilbo to be presumed dead, so no super long adventure yet. Hopefully, with you and Bilbo taking short adventures that turned into longer and longer adventures, Hobbiton would be used to Bilbo being gone and he wouldn’t have to chase down his silverware. (You were dying to meet Galadriel, Haldir and Thranduil, but you could be patient. …Probably.)

All of the Elves had been ridiculously nice and welcoming.

You and Bilbo had found kindred spirits in Elrond’s twin children; a bond that the majority of Rivendell looked on with good natured suspicion. You and Bilbo were terrors in your own right, but coupled with Elladan and Elrohir’s pranking…well. Rivendell was a bit livelier while you were there.

Being Elrond’s children, the twins knew of your…origins and had question after question for you. But they were also observant and kind enough to see when it pained you to speak of what you’d lost and they’d find excellent ways to distract you. (You felt kind of bad that Lindir was so traumatized so many years before the Company came, but as he seemed to have a soft spot for you Hobbits, you didn’t feel bad enough to stop.)

Both you and Elrond had felt it better that Estel not see you. At least, not at this time. He wasn’t even two decades yet, had a few more years to go, and really, you didn’t trust yourself around how adorable he was.

Being as small as you were, (and that was another thing that had taken some time to get used to!), it wasn’t hard for you to avoid the human young man. Though you couldn’t help but sneak a peak as often as you could without getting caught. You were right – he really was just too cute! Arwen was going to be one lucky lady.

You and Bilbo had been in Rivendell for almost two months when you decided that you’d need to head back to the Shire. Reminding Bilbo of the trouble he would have getting his stuff back from those who thought him dead after his trip with the Company, Bilbo quit arguing and was more than willing to head back. (He had to admit that your idea of slowly getting the Shire used to him being gone for months at a time would be beneficial in the long run.)

Gandalf accompanied you all the way to Bree and then you and Bilbo were on your own back to Hobbiton. You had already sent word to your parents that you were unofficially having adventures and now living with your honorary brother. Your parents, proud and adventurous Tooks that they were, were overjoyed that you’d come into your own adventures – and drug along a Baggins too! You secretly thought they were just thrilled he was ‘embracing’ his Took side.

“I think,” Bilbo’s voice cut you from your musings, “that we have had a very successful first two months of Adventuring.”

You gave a laugh, both of you so much more at ease on your ponies than you were when you first started. Elladan and Elrohir had been more than willing to teach you the Ways of the Pony.

“Yes, Bilbo. We did good. Very good. Those notes you took about the people and the copies of the maps in Elrond’s study – those will give us a good place to start for a game plan. Then, maybe in a month or two, we’ll head out again!”

“In a month or two?” Bilbo said, somewhat disbelieving. “I would have assumed you’d want to head out as soon as we found a good direction!”

You gave the Hobbit you seriously loved like a brother a small smile. “I’d love to, but…well, let’s ease into this just a bit. Not just for our sake but for the Shire’s. Give them a little time to get used to the fact that a proper Baggins has been corrupted by his Took relative. And a month at least will give us a solid foundation of where to go and a good rest. Neither one of us are quite used to this, Bilbo.”

The Hobbit riding beside you puffed on his pipe a few more times before nodding decisively. “Another brilliant idea, Y/N. Besides it will give me some time to see what I missed taking care of before we left last time so I can do better this next time around.”

You grinned, feeling the excitement that never truly left you, bubbling up again. Oh, to have such a willing travel partner!

You and Bilbo stayed in the Shire for exactly two months. In the beginning, you listened to your Tookish instincts and made yourself and Bilbo present all over Hobbiton. At the market, at the Green Dragon, everywhere you two could. It showed that Bilbo was still a respectable Hobbit, at least somewhat, and that you were still the wacky Took they all knew. (Even though you were more different than any of them could ever possibly know.)

After Hobbiton had gotten over your sudden disappearance and reappearance – and for such a scandalous thing as an adventure of all things! – you and Bilbo stayed in Bag End more often than not, pouring over his drawings and notes to see what the best route would be. You didn’t know every route exactly that the Company was going to take, but you did know major landmarks.

So you and Bilbo crafted a couple of routes that Company could possibly take and hit those landmarks, as well as a couple of routes the Company could take to avoid a few of those landmarks, (like the Trolls).

“I’m not 100 percent sure,” you murmured thoughtfully one day, puffing away at a pipe that Bilbo had gifted you with your first month here, “but I think that the whole journey only should take a few months. Frodo and Sam take about six months to get to Mordor to destroy the ring, and that’s with a few months stay over in Lorien and Rivendell.” You shot a grin at Bilbo. “Seems like a love of Elves is genetic.”

Bilbo snorted in amusement before turning back to the maps spread out on his dining room table.

“So, only a few months then to get to Erober for us as well?” You both looked at the maps before Bilbo suddenly looked up at you with a wide grin and sparkling eyes.

“We could potentially take the trip multiple times, on multiple routes before the Dwarves even get here!”

You blinked at the once respectable Hobbit – you had created an adventurous monster!

But…

“That is not a bad idea,” you mused thoughtfully, puffing away. Granted, it would be far too dangerous of a trek for two Hobbits by themselves, but if Gandalf, or even an Elf or two went with you…

“I wonder if Elrond would let his sons come with us. Or another Elf or two,” you continued to muse. At Bilbo’s furrowed brow, you started to point out places on the map.

“The Misty Mountains are far too dangerous for us to go on our own. And the Trolls,” you pointed to a spot marked by Rivendell, “doubly not good. Our soon to be companions are going to be a huge help, Bilbo. Alone, you and me? We’d not last more than a week. Especially not through Mirkwood.”

You gave a shudder. Giant spiders you could well do without.

Bilbo hummed in agreement and the two of you lapsed into silence.

A knock sounded on the bright green door and Bilbo huffed before he went to answer it.

“It’s not even tea time,” he grumbled as he passed you and you giggled at his surliness towards anyone the last few weeks that interrupted your planning.

You heard the door open, but nothing else. No greeting, so well wishes, no grumbling.

Feeling uneasy, you slowly crept to the doorway to the dining room so you could peak around the corner.

“Haldir!” you exclaimed, old fangirl tendencies rushing to the surface. Forgetting all propriety, (did Tooks even know what that was?), you flew passed Bilbo and collided with the Marchwarden’s legs.

Bilbo stared at you in shock, but thankfully, the Elf who’s legs you were embracing, just chuckled.

“I have never doubted my Lady’s word, however I must admit I was a bit…hesitant to believe. I’m glad to see my faith in my Lady was not unfounded. You are Y/N and you already know all about me and the Lady’s Woods, yes?”

You didn’t even let the blush that tried to work its way onto your cheeks see the light of day. So you were brash and literally just glomp attacked an Elf. Haldir. Marchwarden.

Who cared?!

“Yup!” you chirped, drawing a chuckle from Bilbo as well. “I do know you, Haldir.” You took a few steps back, getting a better look at Haldir and the small party of Elves standing a few feet behind him.

“Won’t you please come in?” Bilbo offered, taking a step back out of the doorway and grasping your sleeve to pull you with.

You went with him easily, still grinning. Sue you. You freakin’ loved Lorien’s elves. Especially this particular one.

“Thank you, Master Baggins,” Haldir said smoothly, entering past you both. The few other Elves followed and you and Bilbo shared a look that would have been followed by an excited high pitched squeal if you were alone without Elven visitors.

In no time, food was prepared, Elven guests were attended to and Haldir was finally explaining what he was doing in the Shire and at Bag End, when he had never met either of you before.

“We have an audience with the Elvenking Thranduil,” Haldir began, “but do need to see Lord Elrond before we arrive in Greenwood. As we had to cross the Misty Mountains anyway to reach Imladris, my Lady Galadriel suggested we stop by and see if you both would like to accompany us. She has informed myself and my small party here as to your plan for the next few years. It is admirable. My guards and I saw no reason to not lengthen our journey by a mere few weeks to come and escort you all the way to Greenwood, should you wish it.”

Thankfully, you were not the only Hobbit gaping this time. Bilbo’s jaw was also hanging down practically to his waistcoat buttons.

The Elves said not a word while they waited for your response, but you could feel the amusement radiating from all of them.

Clearing your throat, you squeaked out, “Yes! We would be honored to accompany you.”

Bilbo finally shut his own mouth, nodding along with your statement. Honored indeed – this was perfect! Just what the two of you were needing!

Haldir bowed his head in acknowledgement.

“Excellent. We would like to get started as soon as possible; as soon as you can set your house to rights.”

“Well,” Bilbo said, throwing a grin at you, “we’ll be ready by tomorrow morning then. We’ve been preparing this house to be vacant ever since we got back a couple of months ago.”

Haldir’s eyes twinkled as he looked from you to Bilbo and back again.

“We are glad to hear it,” he murmured with a small smile.

You and Bilbo just had a few more odds and ends to tie up, both with the neighbors and around the house before you got to packing for your journey.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, the Elves had slipped in to the Shire mostly unnoticed and so you were able to let the neighbors know simply that you off again on another adventure.

This time, few brows were raised, though there were some head shakes.

For the hundredth time, you were thankful you were shoved into a Took’s family line! How boring it would be to live all your long life in such a nice, but boring place as the Shire!

The next morning, right before daybreak, the Elves, Bilbo and yourself headed off towards Rivendell once again.

The Elves had mentioned that they were on foot as they were used to it with the close, tall trees of Lorien, though they mentioned that they could get some ponies and horses at Bree, should you both prefer it.

You and Bilbo had both elected to stay on foot – as long as the Elves wouldn’t mind the slightly slower pace.

At the elegantly raised brows, you had mentioned how often the Company would have to walk. Might as well get used to it on at least part of your journey at some point!

That started off some questions from the Elves and you and Bilbo both willingly answered them all. Elves were a calm race that you both trusted implicitly to not go and try to bungle things up. It wouldn’t hurt to have them know some of the finer details, and indeed, they actually contributed quite a bit of useful information.

Along the way, they all pitched in to help you and Bilbo learn of both edible and medicinal plants. Being Hobbits, (one of you perhaps more of a true Hobbit than the other), you and Bilbo took to learning more about plants like ducks to water. Bilbo, begin a Baggins, did have more knowledge than you did as a Took, but even he learned new things along the way to Rivendell.

Your stay in Rivendell was much shorter than last time. Only two nights while Haldir met with Elrond and you and Bilbo enjoyed the Elvish comforts.

Elladan and Elrohir found you the last night you were there, having just come back from Orc hunting. You were once again on the balcony of your room, looking out over the beautiful city.

“Y/N!” they greeted in tandem, making you smile fondly. These two did remind you of the Elvish version of Fili and Kili – you were getting more and more excited to meet the Company, even though not even a year had passed yet!

“Greetings, my Twin Terrors,” you grinned as they stopped in front of you, greeting you happily.

Elladan gave you the puppy eyes as his hands rested on your shoulders and with a good natured eye-roll, you nodded.

With a wide grin, the Elf reached down and picked you up. It was a habit they had formed the last time you were here – carrying you around and manhandling you onto chairs or tables.

Unlike Bilbo, you really didn’t mind being carried or helped onto ponies, beds, tables, etc. You found yourself still thinking you were your human height more often than not, especially now that everyone you spent time with called you Y/N instead of Juniper. So extra help to get front point A to point B, especially in a ‘tall folk’ city – that was perfectly fine with you!

Placing you on his shoulders, Elladan headed out of your room and down the hall, he and Elrohir pestering you with questions about what you were doing here.

As soon as you told them, they both ground to a halt.

“You’re going to Greenwood? Across the Misty Mountains?” Elladan gasped and you flicked him in the forehead.

“Elladan,” you started, sickly sweet, “I know you’re not about to protest that I can’t do it.”

“Well…no,” the twin hedged and you flicked him again.

“And I know that you’re not implying that Haldir and his wardens can’t protect Bilbo and I—”

“Of course not!” Elladan said vehemently and you grinned, wrapping your arms around his head.

“Good!” you chirped. “I am glad to hear it.”

“However,” Elrohir cut in, “you should still be prepared.”

You looked down at him from your perch on Elladan’s shoulders.

“What? Prepared? How?”

Elrohir and Elladan shared a grin before they announced, “A weapon!”

Surprisingly, it didn’t take much for both Elrond and Haldir to agree that you and Bilbo both should have some weapons.

You grinned at Bilbo’s face but causally just said, “Sting.”

Bilbo gave up his protests after that. Haldir and his wardens had already sworn to teach you as you travelled to Greenwood and it would give you all something to do while you walked that far.

Before the night was out, you and Bilbo each had weapons – Bilbo an Elven sword, (that you already claimed once he found Sting years down the road), and you with two Elven daggers.

You were actually quite excited to learn how to use them. You were not going to be useless when the Company came around! (And if there was a certain bald dwarf you had been thinking of the more you and Bilbo talked about the Company, and that same bald dwarf you wanted to show you could hold your own to, well, that was for you and you alone to know. Besides, it would be years before you saw any of the Company. By then, you’d probably forget what they all looked like with no visual reminders anywhere.)

You all left Rivendell the next morning, Bilbo up in front of the line with a few of the Elves telling him stories of Lorien, and you and Haldir more in the middle, enjoying each other’s company and silence. You were only a few hours away before Haldir finally turned to you.

“Y/N,” he said suddenly and you looked up at him with a grin.

“Yes, Haldir?”

“I noticed that in Imladris, last night, Lord Elrond’s sons seemed to…that is…,” the Elf trailed off and you frowned in thought before suddenly laughing.

“You mean they liked to carry me around? Yes, they found it incredibly amusing last time we were there a few months ago. Their favorite past time according to them.”

The Elf’s brows rose. “And that doesn’t offend you?”

You giggled – something you never did as a human. Must be a Hobbit thing.

“No,” you assured, “it doesn’t offend me at all. I am used to being much taller, you see, and especially in places made for taller folk, it’s actually quite nice to not have to walk all the way.”

You threw a glance at the back of Bilbo’s head with a grin. “Though, I think I may be one of the only Hobbits that feels that way.”

“And why, do you think, the Sons of Elrond found such delight in carrying you?” Haldir asked a moment later and you gave a shrug.

“At first, I honestly thought they were doing it be annoying,” you confessed, delighting in Haldir’s chuckle, “but…I don’t know. They just seemed to do it all the time the last few weeks were there and I guess I got used to it too.”

There was silence again for awhile before you felt a hand on your shoulder. Quizzically, you turned to look up at Haldir who was smiling down at you.

“May I?” he asked and you laughed with a nod.

You’d gotten some looks when Haldir first lifted you up, though instead of putting you on his shoulders, he carried you bridal style in his arms. Which was fine with you. It was much easier to talk and you could admit that you were still not used to traveling as much as you were.

Teasingly, you called to Bilbo to see if he wanted a ride as well, and when one of the Elves moved as if to pick him up, you all laughed at his indignant squawk.

Well, you and him did differ in a few obvious ways.

Haldir and a few of the other Elves carried you on and off and your trip to Mirkwood. You did try and walk frequently, but after all, you still had about nine years to get used to traveling. If the Elves didn’t mind carrying you, well, you wouldn’t mind being carried!

Bilbo was holding up very well. While the Elves set a decent pace, it wasn’t anything as rushed as what the Company would be doing later on, so it was easier for both you and Bilbo to get used to it.

It wasn’t until the morning after you all camped at the edge of Greenwood, while you were all packing up to enter the gloomy forest, that you approached Bilbo about being carried himself.

“Absolutely not,” he denied, curls flying with his shaking head. “I am not going to be carried like some—”

“Careful,” you sing-songed to him. “Don’t offend me now, brother.”

Bilbo fondly rolled his eyes. “I have absolutely no issue with you being carried. In fact, I think that pretty much every male you come into contact with has some desire to protect you or something and feels better about being able to carry you around. But, I am not going to join in!”

“Bilbo,” you said quietly, seriously, “we’re at the edge of Greenwood. Now called Mirkwood. You remember the awfulness I told you about that is in Mirkwood? This is not a place you’re going to want to walk. And even if it was, this is not a place we’re going to want to stay in any longer than we have to! The forest is not good, Bilbo. Not good. Please? Would you just allow yourself to be carried until we reach the Elvenking’s palace?”

You pulled out the puppy dog eyes you discovered you excelled at a month into knowing Bilbo. You only used them in very dire situations – you didn’t want him to become immune.

Bilbo glared at you for a moment before heaving a sigh.

“Alright,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “Alright. You haven’t led us astray yet, or kept anything from me. If you…if you think it’s really necessary, then I will let someone carry me.”

“Excellent choice, Bilbo,” Haldir said as he walked up to you both. All the Elves were ready to go and waiting. “We are ready if you two are.”

You finished tying up your pack before you were scooped up into Haldir’s arms.

Bilbo was still grumbling as another Elf scooped him up into his arms.

You tried to smother your giggle as Bilbo continued to mutter under his breath. You had meant it – it was good for Bilbo to not walk through Mirkwood. But…boy, were you still going to enjoy this!

It didn’t take long for Woodland Realm Elves to catch up with your procession.

Lady Galadriel had already sent along a message to inform King Thranduil that you and Bilbo would most likely be accompanying her Marchwarden, so you were not a surprise to the scouts.

However, they surprised you. One minute, you were in Haldir’s arms, looking around at the tall trees, dark they were, and the next, you were staring into the very close face of a very familiar looking Elf.

“Legolas!” you greeted with a large grin. The blonde Prince blinked, exchanging a glance with Haldir before turning his eyes back to yours.

“You know of me, Little One?”

You blinked too, for a moment. Oh. Seems Lady Galadriel hadn’t told them of you. Well, it was going to be different having to explain all of this again. And…how much to tell the Woodland Elves? After all, there was no love lost between them and the Company… And while Thranduil was one of your favorite Elves, he was actually the root cause of quite a few problems. Not to mention that the Company pretty much hated him…

Shoot.

“Uh, yes,” you said after a delayed moment. A very delayed moment that was a little worrying, if the tightening of Haldir’s arms around you was any indication.

Okay, you could admit it. The whole ‘let’s visit Mirkwood’ idea was actually not one of your better ones. Since Thorin and Co. never told Thranduil exactly what they were doing and where they were going, it stood to reason that you shouldn’t just blurt out their plans like you did to the Lorien Elves. Since Lorien wasn’t even on the way to Erober, they didn’t matter but Thranduil? Oh, he mattered.

Double shoot.

“Legolas, my friend,” Haldir’s voice brought you out of your increasingly panicked musings, “it has been a long road. Perhaps we may continue this in a more comfortable venue?”

Legolas spared you one more glance before nodding and saying something in Elvish and you all moved out.

‘Nice job, Juniper,’ you hissed mentally to yourself. ‘How the hell you gonna get out of this one?’

Maybe Haldir and his Wardens would play along – you and Bilbo could claim you were just here for an adventure! Of course, you know, you’d have to explain exactly why you’re tagging along with a Marchwarden doing his duty, and how you got invited along in the first place, since you’d never met them before… Hey! Now there’s an idea!

You can tell Thranduil about who you are, but just tell him that you took Bilbo along with you to explore the area you’d read about and seen in movies! No mention of the Company, no mention of Erober.

Perfect! Sorta. Granted, Thranduil would figure out you kept things from in in about nine years, but it’d be better than betraying Thorin’s confidence before he’d actually even given it to you. Hopefully Thranduil would be okay with you leaving out some information… You’d hate to have him turn against you in nine years. He really was one of your favorites.

Now, the only problem: how to get Haldir, the wardens and Bilbo to all follow your lead without actually telling them to follow your lead.

Legolas wasn’t stupid. Suddenly shouting to ‘not say anything except for the fact that we’re traveling for funsies’ probably would garner some attention.

Triple shoot.

Your mind had been in a whirl since you met Legolas, trying to figure out all the ways this could go wrong, (and there were quite a few), and then come up with a plan to bypass those ways. In this, you were less successful.

Thankfully, Thranduil was kind enough to have you all escorted to room to rest for what remained of the day before having an audience with the Lorien envoys and meeting his other guests.

You were able to corner Bilbo, as well as Haldir and the other Elves, and told them you’d like to run point on this. Haldir and his wardens agreed easily that your business here was your own – if the Elvenking wanted to know, he could ask you and Bilbo himself.

That part taken care of, you took Bilbo aside, (you were put in adjoining rooms), to quietly hiss to him that he was NOT to mention the Company. You and your origins, sure. And he could say that you and him were just traveling to the places that you’d read about, seen in movies, etc. That would, hopefully, be enough to satisfy Thranduil.

Bilbo was hesitant at first, (lying, even by omission!, to an Elvenking was not really good practice), but when you reminded him that Thorin did not want his quest known, and reminded him of the….slight bad blood between the Dwarf and Elf, Bilbo was suddenly very passionate about keeping all details of the Company to himself.

You had to grin to yourself at that. Okay, so maybe you had been talking up Thorin a bit to Bilbo. Nothing too personal, just enough that Bilbo was growing attached to him, his family and his plight. And hopefully wouldn’t be so put out by his demeanor.

This ‘manipulating the plot’ thing was actually going pretty well – and you still had nine years left!

You were brought dinner in your rooms, were able to wash up, and then you both turned in. You had been informed by Haldir, on his way to his own room, that King Thranduil was going to summon you both to meet with him the next morning. Neither Bilbo nor yourself wanted to screw something up because of sleep deprivation.

Early bed time it was.