#the 'ready - fight' being offset from each other is EXACTLY what i was hoping would happen

[golden-x-mage]

bujin sword got added to the flash belt and a huge win for me personally is that if you start the geats ix and bujin sword henshins at the same time, the jingles sync up like this:

dynamite boost!/black general!

geats ix/bujin sword

ready-

ready...

fight!

fight~

[deluluass]

hi

could yoy do please some yandere kuroo and kageyama headcanons? 💕

nsfw is welcomed 😊

My first headcanons 🤞🏽

Yandere! Kuroo Tetsuro

Content warnings: markers of a toxic/emotionally abusive relationship; dumbification; daddy kink; sex toy(s); mild public play/exhibitionism

😇SFW😇

This boy has a fascination for messy people.

And by "messy", I mean that Kuroo has a soft spot for those who put up some sort of front. A performative mask to hide their crumbling psyche.

Oh.

Those are his favorites. (Especially when they're not even aware that they’re hiding something.)

Maybe it's because they're so easy to manipulate? (Or perhaps it's a mild case of schadenfreude?)

It's the instigator in him.

He knows which buttons to push and at what time to exactly do it.

Kuroo lives for being that guy who causes a full blown fight by simply dropping a backhanded comment or two.

For being the final straw that eventually breaks the proverbial camel's back.

And then slipping back into the shadows to watch the Drama unfold.

So it's not unlikely for him to form an obsession for someone who's so emotionally vulnerable.

Someone who has the weight of the world on their shoulders; who has everything locked up inside to the point of bursting.

Because then it won't take much to have them falling apart and unraveling before him.

But he's also a caretaker, you know.

He's opportunistic and covertly callous and mischievous, yes.

But you've seen how much he tends to those close to him.

So when you do fall apart, you will do it in his arms.

He will take care of you.

He'll say everything you've always wanted to hear.

You're beautiful and wanted and loved and you don't have to be brave anymore.

Kuroo's here and he understands you.

From the barest changes in your inflection to your most subtle facial expression.

Other people won't catch it.

To Kuroo, though? Tell-tale signs that you're hiding your feelings again.

He understands you in a way that no else had; that no else cared to try.

And eventually that’ll be the very thing that you’ll hold onto.

Never mind that his every word has become an indisputable fact (when it shouldn’t be).

Never mind that the line between Kuroo just being a mindful boyfriend AND Kuroo disregarding your boundaries has become too blurry that it’s impossible to tell which is which.

Never mind that your entire world has narrowed down to just him and you.

Because all your friends have, one by one, made their way for the exit.

They tell you that they're so tired.

They've warned you- begged you, actually- to end this insidiously suffocating relationship.

"I know he's only been nice to you and to us, but there's just...something wrong about that guy," they say.

But until they pinpoint, exactly, what that "something wrong" is; and until you see it for yourself, you're sticking by his side.

Damn whatever people say.

So.

Kuroo's not the yandere who'd chain you up in his basement or something.

Not that he's above it, but because he doesn't really need to.

Not when he has you bound right where it really matters.

😈NSFW😈

Kuroo has perfected being a dom down to a Science.

He knows exactly when to be mean and hurtful and sweet and kind and giving to you.

Kuroo's very generous, methinks! But only if he believes you deserved it.

So you better prove that you earned it!!

He'll having you cumming and gushing into his hand if you pleaded just enough!!

Looked into his eyes all pouty and teary and pliant to all his wishes.

Very into treating you and talking to you like you're not capable of comprehending words.

Oh, darling. I know I'm hurting you. I know I am. But you like it, don't you? That's right. Fuck yeah, you do, you fucking slut.

That's because you're just a dumb little baby, aren't you? You'd be happy as long as daddy makes you cum?

And you'd nod and say yes so obediently as he pounds your little hole even though you can't hear him over the sound of your own moans.

ALSO!!!

HE IS A TEASE!!!!

A FUCKINGN!!!!!!!!! TEASE!!!!

Every seggsy time is edging time!!

Has a thing for slapping your ass until your cheeks are bruised and tender under his palms.

And for sticking a vibrator inside you while you're out in public.

Just to teach you a lesson whenever he feels like you're not learning enough.

"Do you want me to come back until you're ready?" the waiter droned, obviously suppressing the urge to roll his eyes when all you did was grip the napkin in front of you.

You couldn't even look at poor kid; couldn't even make out a sound. You're too busy stifling the tingling within your walls, prompting you to cross your legs beneath the table and squeeze your thighs together.

And Kuroo's just...scanning the menu. Sitting idly before you. He's resting his chin against his open palm, long fingers brushing under his nose, while you're practically grinding down the chair.

You feel yourself leak into the crotch of your underwear, sticky liquid squelching against the crack of your ass as the toy continued to vibrate, burning you up and melting your insides, the buzzing a white noise only you could hear.

His indifference was unflappable. Kuroo even managed to call out, "Excuse me. Sorry about that earlier. We're ready now," so smoothly despite your desperate attempts to catch his attention. Then, he recited a bunch of dishes that you didn’t have the appetite for. Like you’re not outright writhing and earning a few disconcerted looks from the table next to you.

All you wanted was for him to put an end to this. You've learned your lesson. You're not gonna disappoint him again.

Instead, you watched in agonizing fear as he reached for his pocket. And immediately, without a warning, you felt the toy shake violently inside you.

"Ah!" you cried, sharply folding your arms and legs, making the plates and utensils clink against each other as your wrists chafed against your hard nipples.

Your boyfriend halted, leaned closer, and looked at you in a convincing display of concern.

"Are you alright, babe?" he muttered, caressing your knee, his nails pressing down just a tad. Not too hard. Just enough for you to hiss in a heady mixture of pleasure and pain.

You managed a small, quivering "uh-huh" as you begged him with your eyes. Conveying as much message as you could.

"Daddy, I'll be good for you. I swear. I won't lie anymore. I won't make you angry. I won't do anything that you wouldn't be happy about. Everything I do from this moment on will be just for you, daddy. I promise, daddy-"

But Kuroo only huffed out, a small, faint grin tracing his lips as he turned back to the waiter and said, "One cream pie, please."

Yandere! Kageyama Tobio

Content warning(s): rape/noncon

😇SFW😇

Fourth wall break, if you will: thank you, anon, for putting these characters together because I Believe that they’re each other’s foils in terms of yandere-isms. And this is gonna be an interesting contrast to see (at least, I hope it would be).

So Kuroo’s all subdued mind games, right? Like, you have to do a whole routine of mental gymnastics if you want to dig deep and analyze how he had your head spinning. 

But Kageyama? 

Kageyama says fuck that.

Kageyama, genius though he is, is about as subtle as a metal bat to the head when it comes to his darling.

He has no qualms about tying you to his bed once the opportunity presents itself to him.

But it didn’t start out like that.

At first, perhaps Kageyama was just an aloof classmate whose entire life revolved around volleyball.

The one who couldn’t even take a time out of his day to hang out with the rest of the class on a weekend.

Though Kageyama has a knack for attracting hostility from other people, there comes a time (rare it may be) that it is offset by people who are sympathetic to his idiosyncrasies.

His darling falls under the latter.

That's what draws Kageyama to you.

Hearing stuff like "D'you know what they used to call him before? King!" and "King because he's an arrogant dickhead who thinks he's better than everyone" are not new to him.

But hearing these are: "Stop that. It's rude to talk behind a person's back."

"Kageyama's passionate about volleyball. More than anyone we've ever met. Ok so it's alienating for us! Whatever! But isn't it admirable that he's doing his best at a thing that he loves?"

Kageyama did not get it.

You're not his teammate.

You're not his..anything.

You had no cause to try and be nice to him and defend him and..understand him, really.

So the rest was history.

The beginning might have been awkward.

Every time he tried to talk to you, Kageyama, for some reason, always blurted out the wrong things.

But you didn't mind. You just liked being his friend.

And Kageyama liked having you by his side.

Kageyama liked it, especially, when you're in the sidelines and cheering him on. (This caused quite a ruckus in Karasuno.)

It should have been weird. Kageyama had not known anything else besides volleyball.

Your presence should’ve been that of a stranger encroaching on someone else’s property.

Somehow, though, you fitted in so perfectly.

Like you’re made to be there.

So he tells you: “You’re free, aren’t you? You should be watching me play by now” and “You should be waiting for me after class” and “Stop making excuses. You’re not tired. You can still drop by practice” 

You’ve tried to reason with him. (Even contemplated about ending your friendship.)

But it’s not like you’re ever gonna shake him off.

Besides, you know that he wouldn’t accept anything less than perfect.

😈NSFW😈

His darling was his first sexual experience. 

And like any beginner, Kageyama was pretty...uh..bad at it ngl.

Add that to the fact that he’s on the bigger side and your first with him wasn’t consensual.

At that time, all Kageyama knew was that he really, really wanted to touch you and kiss you and fuck you senseless until you acknowledge that there’s no running from him. 

Trust, though, that Kageyama will not settle for being bad or, heaven forbid, mediocre at it.

Nope.

Not. a. chance.

Doesn’t matter that you’ve spent the entire day fucking.

Kageyama will not rest- not let you rest, until he drags out a moan from you; until you’ve ruined the sheets with how much he’s made you cum; until he has you begging for more. 

Will experiment a lot.

Will test out how fast and hard he has to fuck you to get what kind of reaction he wants from you.

Very attentive even to your quietest gasp.

If you so much as show a sign that you’re finding whatever it is he’s doing to your body pleasurable- curl your toe or arch your back- Kageyama will amp it up to the point where you’re screaming.

He’ll have this haughty, shit-eating grin while doing it too.

“Yes, you can,” Kageyama growled. “Spread those legs and show me how you do it.”

You shook your head, your body protesting at the slight movement. You’re already on the verge of blacking out. And you don’t have to check the ticking wall clock to know that, by now, Kageyama, too, should be knocked out and dozing off beside you.

But he only grabbed your wrists, making you howl in pain as soon as he touched the cuts and bruises across the skin. Remnants of the nylon rope that bound them together not too long ago.

“Touch yourself,” he repeated.

Kageyama’s voice is a rasping noise to your ears, his hot breath causing goosebumps all over you as he pressed his lips against the shell.

“No-no more, Kag-Kageyama,” you forced yourself to say, though your throat was dry and aching from all your screeching. 

He clicked his tongue. 

You flinched.

And you didn’t think it possible for Kageyama to be more frightening than he already is. Until you’d done as he’d told and, like a wolf patiently waiting to pounce, Kageyama zeroed in on how you moved your hands, his own reaching for his cock.

He didn’t take his eyes off of you, groaning as you trembled and mewled under your featherlight touch. Kageyama stroked himself, grinding into his fist until pre-cum dripped from the head.

“That how you like it, huh,” he croaked.

Before you could even reach an orgasm, Kageyama had already pushed you on your back, mimicking the way you pleasured yourself. Only this time it was rougher, more unforgiving, and indifferent to your cries of “Stop! Stop it, I can’t- Enough, Kageyama!”

[mrsgiovanna]

The Request (Don Giorno x Fem! Reader)

I don't really know what to call this, it's just an idea that's been living in my head for a while. Kind of disorganised... Just like my thoughts in general 💭😅

TW : possessive, somewhat yandere Behaviour, part 5 spoilers.

The sharp clattering of your heels against the exquisite marble floor was the only sound to break the silence. You walked briskly, a woman on a mission no doubt. Today would be the day you try and pry back a morsel of the freedom you lost when you took up residence with your overbearing lover all those years go. As you make your way to your destination you wonder how you got to this point, you couldn’t fathom how such a small request could require as much effort and preparation. This is definitely a far cry from when you first met the green-eyed charmer. Falling for him was as simple as falling asleep, it happened slowly, softly, being lulled by his velvety voice, and then all at once.

By the time you realized you were pulled into a dream, your surroundings morphed into a nightmare. Not the kind with hideous monsters blatantly chasing after your blood, no, this was the more dangerous kind- the eerily beautiful kind without anything to swiftly jolt you awake.

You’d finally reached your destination on the east wing of the mansion, a large, ornately carved mahogany door, with golden accents on the vines that decorated its frame. You paused, in part to compose yourself, but also to think about whether or not you were ready for the consequences that would follow this conversation, if you could even call it one.

“Come in”.

 You steeled yourself, briefly gazing to your left to look at yourself in the gold-framed mirror that took up most of that wall. You smoothed down your hair, and made sure your expertly applied makeup was still in place. A quick adjustment of your designer dress and a stern glare into your sparkling eyes gave you the courage you needed to knock on the door.

“Good morning amore mio, its rather early for you to be awake and that dressed up. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

It was all the invitation you needed as you opened the heavy door and slowly walked in. Greeted by your lover’s soft smile, you felt your heart waver, but your resolve returned when you noticed that that smile had not reached his emerald eyes.

You were taken aback by the tenderness in his voice, wondering how he could sound so gentle while his eyes looked so intimidating. You were jolted out of your reverie as he softly cleared his throat.

“Giorno, I … I was hoping to speak to you about something… its rather important.”

You’d slightly grimaced at your choice of words, feeling your resolve slowly dissipating, you had come here to make a demand but ended up phrasing it as a tentative suggestion… but the door was opened now, and you’d have to follow through. All the months of behaving and complying with the countless rules, all the subtle warnings, they simply couldn’t count for naught, not after being so careful.

Giorno had looked at his beloved and motioned for her to continue. He mused about what his wife would want to pick his brain about, in fact he knew exactly what she wanted but he put that thought to the back of his mind as it was the one thing he could absolutely not allow.

 “Gio, please let me go to the city, I need to see Paolo, he’s not doing too well and desperately needs my help… and I’m all the family he has left.” You tried to keep your voice from cracking but failed, speaking about your brother was always painful. Even though he was a year older than you, you had always taken care of him. You had even ended up joining the gang to pay off his drug debts. Despite numerous stays at the best rehab facilities that money could buy, he just couldn’t manage to stay sober. You had to admit that it hurt you to see the pathetic state your brother was in, considering how much you had lost when you helped Giorno betray Diavolo and usurp Passione to reform it.

Bruno’s death was especially difficult for you to deal with as he was the one anchoring force in a life filled with instability. You mourned the deaths of your friends for a long time, however, the one loss you found the most difficult to contend with was the one you hadn’t even been aware of until it was too late.

You stared hopefully at the man you so desperately loved, hoping against all possibilities that the answer would be a favorable one. His gaze shifted, he looked down pensively as you sat across him drinking in the ethereal beauty that Giorno embodies. He’s matured so much, you think to yourself, his face having lost that innocent quality, was now sharp and handsome, as if it had been sculpted by the gods themselves. This was offset by the luxurious mane that cascaded down his back and over his shoulder like liquid gold, favoring to wear his hair loose now, in stark contrast to the immaculate braid he worn when you had first met him.  His tailored suits hugged all the contours of his well-built frame, he was indeed a sight to behold, however, his eyes- his eyes unsettled you. You felt as if they stared directly into your soul.

It had been a few years after Giorno had taken over Passione that your friendship had blossomed into something more. Slowly falling, date after date, feelings intensified and it wouldn’t be long before you two were inseparable. Soon after, you noticed Giorno becoming a little more involved in your life, but that’s what happens when you’re in a relationship you reasoned to yourself, however, as time went on, his gentle grasp had turned into a vice-like grip. You blamed it on the traumatic events of your shared past, but there was something else there that you couldn’t quite fathom.  So you had stayed silent, slowly losing more and more freedom until you were completely under the Don’s control. You cursed your complacency for letting it come to this, however, you loved Giorno, and you would never, ever want to hurt him, regardless of how his actions may have hurt you.

“Bella”, the sound of his voice brought you out of your thoughts for the second time this morning.

“As much as I’d love to let you go, it’s simply too dangerous to be anywhere near a place like that, nor can I allow him anywhere near this safe haven I’ve painstakingly created for us.”

 You were just about to interject with the argument you’d rehearsed so many times, when his sharp glare had silenced you. You recoiled back into your chair, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Upon seeing this, Giorno’s heart broke. When had you become this afraid of him? Had all his measures to keep you safe from harm manifest in him becoming your biggest threat? All he had ever wanted was to keep you safe.

He had lost so much... precious allies had been violently ripped away from him, he was fully aware that fate could be a cruel mistress. Losing you as well was not an option. Being the Don of Passione came with many perks, he basically held the entire of Italy in the palm of his elegant hand. Only the best was good enough for his principessa, and he was able to give this to you. But every fairytale has to have a villain, or in this case, a series of villains, sent to weaken him or eradicate him altogether. When these people had realized it was virtually impossible to counter his stand ability, they found other ways to attempt to bring him to his knees, and that involved hurting you. Numerous attempts at both his and your lives successfully thwarted without your knowledge had only further cemented Giorno’s belief that the only way to keep you safe was through isolation.

With the finality of his tone, you gave up on your little mission and melted into his embrace. You mentally chided yourself for not putting up more of a fight, but there was something in the way that Giorno held you that fractured your already fragile heart. The slight tremble of his arms and the uneven breathing were evidence enough that he was extremely conflicted by something, and that his decisions were not made from malicious intentions... Perhaps... You just wished he would let you in, that he wouldn’t shoulder this burden on his own. You wanted to close the gap between you two, and with that you made a silent promise to yourself and him, that you would heal your fractured hearts, no matter the cost.

“I’m sorry amore mio, I know I’m being cruel, but… there are many things at play… one day you will understand.”

Giorno knew his words sounded condescending, he knew that with each time he refused your small requests, the divide between you two grew larger, but he was determined to protect you, no matter the cost. All he could do was savor this warmth and the way you clung desperately to his form.

 The last thing he wanted was for you to be unhappy or scared, so telling you about these affairs was not an option… perhaps until now. Seeing the tears pooling in your eyes was almost too much for him to bear, he needed to comfort you despite feeling guilty for being the reason you’re in this state. He slowly made his way toward you, seating himself next to you, he wrapped you in a warm embrace. That action only encouraged your tears to flow freely, being soaked up by the expensive fabric of his suit. With each soft sob, Giorno felt his heart would shatter.

[buckysbabygorl]

Pin It

Summary: Reader will fight Barnes until she wins. Bucky isn’t complaining, problem is he can’t resist pinning her to the floor.

Pairing: bucky barnes x reader

Warnings: sexual innuendo, mild swearing

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Y/N’s heart pounded as she scrambled to free herself.

Her arms wriggled against the restraint of his palms. She flailed her legs in an attempt to escape.

But she stood no chance.

“And that’s time.” Steve called out.

“Damn it!”

Y/N stopped fighting and dropped her head against the mat, she’d lost once again.

Bucky smirked as he straddled her hips and pinned her wrists down to the ring floor.

They’d been at this for nearly an hour, Y/N was determined to finally beat Barnes after countless sessions of combat. But so far, no luck.

“You’re making this too easy, kid.”

He extended his arm as he stood, lifting Y/N up and settling her body in front of his.

“Shut it Barnes, quick break then we’re going again. I’m kicking your ass this time.”

Barnes laughed and shook his head, will she ever learn?

Nat had been watching intently from the sidelines, analyzing the fight. It couldn’t be helped; her second nature of taking in everything around her and storing it like valuable data. She loved to people watch, actually, she lived for it. Naturally her attention was set on her teammates; watching how they moved with one another, how they excelled and how they could improve.

Y/N was, oddly enough, a perfect match for Bucky in the ring. Both were skilled fighters with immense amounts of endurance and strength. Yet for some reason, Bucky had Y/N beat.

They both easily took down other members of the team in training: herself included. Though she didn’t care to admit it…

So what was it?

They had all analyzed each other’s fighting styles: was Y/N just off her game? Was Bucky really that unpredictable?

Unpredictable. She delved into the thought further; what was Bucky changing up, exactly?

Bucky was a strong fighter: 6 feet of pure muscle and brute force. His fighting style was aggressive as he had been trained to clear out his obstacles as quickly and powerfully as possible. He was like that with every opponent.

Then she realized, not with Y/N.

With Y/N it was smoother, carefully planned. He would do his best to dodge attacks passively and slowly work his way in. Like he was trying to get closer — why? It would be smarter to avoid your opponent. What’s the end goal there?

Nat replayed their last fight: a punch from Y/N leading to a grip of the wrist and an offset of her stance. It sends her off balance — one quick stride and he’s got her pressed up against the ropes.

A kick leads to a catch of her ankle, swiftly collapsing her knee, she’s down on the ground. He doesn’t strike then, but immobilizes her with a pin to the floor.

A sweep of Bucky’s legs sends him crashing to the floor, she moves to strike and he grabs her, pulling her against him and rolling over so she’s beneath him—

Oh.

It happened over and over again like clockwork.

He was like a school boy: having to pull the pig tails of the cute girl at recess for attention.

Nat had figured it out: hardly able to contain a laugh as Barnes neared her. She watched him as he snatched a water bottle from the floor, raising it to chug its contents.

She cleared her throat, “You know, that’s not your usual sparring style.”

Bucky finished his drink of water, bringing down the bottle as he looked at Nat.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started, “You’re usually more of a ‘one punch man’ type deal. Not so much for… a dance. Or overly complex.”

Bucky laughed, “Are you insulting my methods?”

“Not at all,” she nodded back to the ring, “just an observation. You’re a bit more, um, hands on…”

Bucky nervously fiddled with the lid of the bottle as she continued.

“Lots of lifts, less distance, a lot more floor work... pinning.”

Bucky coughed, stalling as he looked for an explanation.

“There’s nothing wrong with trying something new.”

“Oh, is that what that is?”

He shrugged, “Yeah. What else would it be?”

“Well considering it’s only with one person that you ‘expand your method’—”

Bucky noticeably avoided her gaze.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh, I mean the fact that you pin Y/N to the floor every chance you get.”

Bucky's face erupted with red, he looked around in hopes no one heard.

“You’re imagining things, Romanoff.”

“Really? I bet you can’t go 5 minutes in the ring without wrestling her to the ground.”

Bucky scoffed in an attempt to dismiss her, “This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah? Then take the bet. If I’m wrong it shouldn’t hurt you. Right?”

Bucky scowled lightly as he realized he’d been caught in her trap. Blow it off and he’s admitted something.

Accept, and he has to behave.

Bucky didn’t have to wrestle her to win, right? Powerful strike to the shoulder, strong kick to the side. Spar done.

“Alright, fine. What’s your wager?”

“Fifty bucks.”

Bucky rolled his eyes “Jesus, you that confident?”

Nat chuckled, crossing her arms as she turned back to the ring.

“I’m never wrong, you should know that by now.”

Bucky looked across the room, watching Y/N stretch as she chatted with Steve. She laughed at something Steve said, rolling out her shoulders and rubbing her neck.

Bucky paid extra attention to the dip of her shoulder, the crevice of her collarbone—

“Hey!”

Her call snapped him back to reality.

Y/N raised her hands in challenge, “we doing this thing or what?”

His nerves had his mouth run dry, and Nat laughed as she saw Bucky’s hesitation.

“Good luck tiger, hope you’re good for that money.”

Bucky huffed as he tossed his water bottle at her, Nat easily catching it as he did.

“Be ready to pay up,” he teased as he lifted himself back over the ropes.

“You betting on us now?” Y/N remarked.

“Something like that…”

They circled each other for a moment before settling into their fighting stances, waiting for Steve’s call.

“Alright, time starts… now!”

The seconds passing drew out in anticipation, both fighters waiting for the other to strike.

Nat watched eagerly from the sidelines. She neared the ropes, she wanted a good view when she won this bet.

But Bucky thought differently. He was too good at this: he knew all of Y/N’s weaknesses. He would win this easily, without pinning her down.

Y/N struck first, Bucky knew she would: she was never patient enough to anticipate a move.

They rallied hits back and forth, some making their mark and others easily defended.

Y/N then went to kick his right side, but instead of deflecting he gripped it against his side in a lock.

Bucky then motioned to pull her hips to his, followed by a collapse to the floor—

In that moment Bucky panicked, he nearly did exactly what Nat had called him on.

Nat could see the moment of recognition in his face, as her palms drummed the mat in excitement. She was right.

Quickly, he rejected his plan of action, tossing her away from him as they tumbled downwards.

As Y/N rolled to the floor and Bucky wobbled to his stance, she moved to kick out his legs from beneath him.

Bucky was sent crashing to the ground, landing on his back.

Y/N shifted over him and raised a fist, aiming for his jaw.

Bucky moved just in time, the blow being struck at his shoulder instead.

In one swift motion, he threw her to the side and mounted her easily.

Shit, Bucky thought. I did it again.

Bucky hadn’t yet pinned her arms and her free fist collided with his groin.

Bucky grunted at the pain; Y/N lifting herself and pushing him backwards as the hurt rendered him immobile.

Landing on his back again, he attempted to strike Y/N’s leg with a bent knee.

Y/N blocked the shot with an open palm and pressed his knee into the ground.

With Y/N closer to the ground; Bucky used his free leg to topple her to the side again, having her land on her chest with a loud thud.

In seconds he was on top of her, his hips pressing her down as his hands reached up to grab hers.

Caught up in the fight, Bucky hadn’t realized he’d done exactly what he wasn’t supposed to.

Steve started the count as Bucky held her down.

Through heavy breaths Y/N spoke to him, looking up through her thick lashes.

“Just can’t resist being on top of me, eh Buck?”

Bucky nearly choked.

In a moment of shock, his grip loosened on her arms.

Having her chance, Y/N twisted and reached behind him.

Placing her elbow around Barnes’s neck, she pulled him forward and locked his head against her shoulder.

She rolled them over, leaving Bucky on his back as her weight rested against his chest.

Having him disoriented, Y/N rushed to pin him down.

Y/N’s one knee pressed his metal arm against his abdomen while the other knee dug into his groin. She then reached to pin his flesh arm above his head, while her free hand clasped gently around his throat in a hold.

Bucky was hypnotized as sweat trickled down her jawline, her chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. She smiled tiredly, but an energy still sparked in her eyes.

“But you certainly look good beneath me.”

Bucky stared up at her, speechless. Only registering his loss when Steve called out “time”.

“Yes!”

Y/N cheered as she stood; fist raised in the air in triumph.

“I told you I’d kick your ass.”

She laughed heartily as she jogged over to Steve; eager for notes.

Bucky remained in his position on the floor, shell shocked at the transpired events.

“Damn, looks like we both lost that one.”

Bucky turned his head to the side, Romanoff’s head resting on crossed arms at the edge of the ring.

“What happened there?” She asked.

Bucky puffed out his cheeks, shaking his head as he looked back up to the ceiling.

“The girl just completely floored me.”

She laughed, “I saw that.”

Bucky’s head rolled to the side, looking at Y/N and Steve as she chattered on.

“Gotta watch out for that one, she’s unpredictable.”

Nat shook her head at Bucky’s state. Girl gives him a switch up, and suddenly it’s like he’s never fought before.

“You had her last time, what changed?”

Bucky hummed, not taking his eyes off his opponent.

“Call it a dynamic shift.”

“Interesting…” Nat let her word trail off, following his gaze.

Y/N childishly danced in victory as Nat met eyes with Steve, smiling back at her while he chuckled at her antics.

“So, you giving up?” Nat asked.

Bucky slowly tore his gaze away from Y/N to meet Nat’s questioning look.

“Oh god no.” he said, a glimmer of something mischievous in his eye.

“In fact, I’m just getting started.”

Masterlist

Hey guys! Working on some requests for @fandomsfallnomore @marvelrose @wintersoldierbucky28 and some new parts to my series, hope this will tie you over until I get the big stuff done! If you want to be in a tag list please comment or DM me. I had a small one written but I can’t find it!

[shedreamsofstars]

our fingers dancing when they meet

five times their hands didn’t touch and one time they did

i.

Kyo’s hand skated along the top of the metal railing as he walked down the school steps. It was late, and despite the balmy weather, the metal was stone cold to the touch. He glanced around him absently, more out of habit than actually looking for anyone, but his heart skipped a beat as he spotted a familiar figure standing below.

Tohru stood with one hand against the railing, her long hair floating breezily in the wind. Her ribbons flitted back and forth as she dug through her bag, searching for something he had no hope of making out from his distance.

She hadn’t noticed him yet.

That wasn’t too much of a surprise to him, especially when he considered how she spent most of her days happily oblivious to her surroundings. It was a wonder she had made it through another day unharmed.

His eyes were drawn to her fingers, clinging to the same railing his own hand rested against, and his body stalled at the only natural thought in his mind.

If he kept his hand on the rail as he approached, it would eventually end up alongside hers.

Kyo could almost imagine the warmth of her fingers as they touched his, could almost see her panic as she realised what had happened, could almost feel her pull back with a hundred apologies on her lips.

He considered the idea for a moment.

It would be so easy to play it off as an accident, his hand sliding into hers in a purely distracted state, his fingers curling against hers in involuntary attempt to fight off the cold.

He blinked hard.

He took a deep breath.

He shoved both hands into the pockets of his trousers and carried on walking.

Casually jumping the last few steps, Kyo landed beside Tohru, who true to form, startled at his sudden appearance. “Hey,” he said gently, attempting to offset his brusque entrance.

“Kyo-kun,” she called back happily as she straightened up, her hands fluttering behind her back as she gave up on whatever she was searching for. “Are you ready to go home now?”

Kyo frowned, something strange and warm blooming in his chest. “You were … waiting for me?”

“Of course. Yuki already went on ahead, but I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Tohru’s eyes were bright and brown and so plain to read as she smiled up at him. Kyo’s fingers twitched in his pocket. He twisted them into a fist as something akin to regret simmered at the base of his throat.

“Thanks,” he said, doing his best to ignore it. “You didn’t have to stay y’know.”

Tohru shook her head lightly. “You’re so silly. Of course I did,” she said, her smile widening ever so slightly.

Kyo was quiet a moment, transfixed. Was there anything that smile couldn’t fix, he wondered.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, deliberately knocking against her shoulder as he passed, hands still firmly placed in his pockets. He took a few steps before slowing his pace, waiting for her to catch up to him with that same bright smile on her face.

 ii.

“Having bigger hands doesn’t mean you’re stronger,” Yuki grumbled half-heartedly, his face hidden behind a textbook.

“It does too,” Kyo said stubbornly, his hand slamming down onto the table between the two of them. The teacups clattered at the impact as the red-headed boy turned his attention to the only other person in the room. “Right, Tohru?”

Tohru sat on the edge of the table with her homework spread out before her, her pencil stuck mid-air as both boy’s attention fell to her. Her gaze bounced between the two of them, her nerves frazzling by the second at the untamed energy simmering in the air.

Yuki was the first to speak.

He let out a reserved sigh, his mop of grey hair and piercing eyes appearing in full as he lowered the book. “Miss Honda, you don’t have to answer his ridiculous question.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Kyo countered defensively. “My hands are obviously bigger than Tohru’s and I’m clearly stronger than her too. So why don’t you just hold up your hand you damned rat, so I can prove I’m stronger than you too!”

Yuki raised his brows warily, his expression somewhere between serene and disinterested.

“It doesn’t make any difference if my, or even Miss Honda’s, hands are bigger or smaller than yours. We’re both stronger than you where it counts.”

Kyo leaned into the table, flexing his arm muscles as he glared at Yuki. “Oh yeah, and where’s that you stupid rat?”

As much as Tohru would have loved to hear Yuki’s reasoning, Kyo’s response or even just attempt to cool down the argument that was brewing in the air, her mind found itself fixated on one thing and one thing only.

My hands are bigger than Tohru’s

Her brows crinkled into a small frown as she stared at Kyo’s hand spread against the dark grain of the wood table. How could he possibly know that?

From what she remembered, the two of them had pretty similarly sized hands. Sure he had grown taller since they’d first met, but she hadn’t paid any particular attention to his hands.

Perhaps she ought to have, she wondered.

Tohru wanted to test his words against the truth, and for a brief moment the thought of asking him flickered in the back of her mind.

The image of him pressing his palm flat against hers seemed so real that she found herself holding her breath in anticipation. She wondered how his orange eyes would look when they bounced along the tips of their fingers to measure the distance between them.

Curious?

Affectionate?

Tender?

Her head tipped involuntarily to the side, shaking her free of her reverie.

“Huh … what … happened?” she said, stumbling over the words as she finally focused enough to see Kyo and Yuki looking at her with matching looks of concern.

It took her a disoriented moment to realise it was because someone had knocked her gently. It took another for her to realise it was Kyo and that those same orange eyes she had been imagining were now burning right beside her.

“Are you okay Miss Honda?”

She heard Yuki, but his words didn’t really register through the tendrils of her muddled thoughts. All she knew was a warm burnt umber and the feel of fingertips pressed against her own.

Kyo leaned in towards her with a concerned frown. “You were gawking at the table for ages,” he put bluntly, diving for the ground with a growl as Yuki sent a book flying at his face.

“What he means Miss Honda, is that you got lost in your head there for a moment. You must have had some pretty interesting thoughts.”

Tohru blushed wildly, trying to forget the images she’d conjured up in her mind. But one look at Kyo as he sat up with that flame eyed gaze of his had them flickering on the fringes of her vision.

She rushed to her feet, feeling completely hot and bothered. “I’m fine,” she squeaked, attempting to look anywhere but at the two boys who she knew were watching her with worried gazes.

“I …” she started, searching for any excuse to leave. “It’s so late! I need to get started on dinner.” And with that, Tohru made a beeline for the empty kitchen.

It would be a good long while before the rosy hue on her cheeks disappeared, and a good while longer until she could remember her daydream without blushing all over again.

 iii.

Kyo stood in the doorway with a glass of water in his hand, craning into the room with an air of curiosity. He had only meant to pass through on his way to grab a drink, but the sight of Tohru doing – whatever the heck that was – gave him pause.

“What are you doing?”

Tohru glanced up at him, the look of concentration on her face melting into a welcoming smile. “Oh, this?” she said, gesturing to the small pink bottle on the table. “I still had some of mum’s nail polish and thought it would be fun to put it on.”

Kyo stepped fully into the room, eyeing up the bottle on the table with open mistrust. “Is that stuff safe?” he asked, the smell of chemicals strong in the air. His hands involuntarily tightened on his glass.

“Of course, silly. And it’s really pretty too, look,” Tohru said as she held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers playfully.

Kyo idly glanced at the pale pink that decorated her fingers. Even he had to admit that it did look pretty.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said gently, turning to leave.

“Oh, actually Kyo-kun,” she called after him, knocking her knee against the table in her hurry. Kyo glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Are you busy right now?”

He swallowed the urge to say whatever would get him out of the situation, a habit he’d been trying to work on kicking. “Not really,” he said, turning back around to face her.

“If it’s not too much bother, could you paint my other hand for me?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with a guarded hope. “I’m not that good at applying it with my left hand.”

“Oh,” Kyo said, a little stunned at her request. Painting Tohru’s nails seemed like it required a steady hand, and he wasn’t exactly known for being … delicate. Still, before he knew what he was doing Kyo was shuffling towards the table.

He placed his cup of water down, biting back a smile as Tohru expertly slid a coaster under it before it could touch the table. He picked up the bottle, twisting the lid off and pulling out the brush.

“Thank you,” Tohru said brightly, placing her right hand on the table and spreading her fingers across its wooden surface.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he warned warily, not fully trusting himself to be able to do a good job. As carefully as he could, he lifted the brush and applied the polish to her bare nails, his hands moving slow and cautious.

Weirdly enough, it really did feel like painting. Kyo wasn’t much for art - though he did like to make things with his hands - but he found that the repetitive motions were strangely soothing as he worked methodically along each nail.

As great care as he took to try and keep the polish from her skin, he took even greater care to keep himself from touching her – a thing every sane part of him screamed to do.

Or, every insane part rather.

It was hard to do with their hands in such close proximity, but Kyo managed it well enough despite his desire to do otherwise. A small while later, he found himself placing the capped bottle back down on the table with a glassy thunk.

He had rushed a little towards the end, nerves starting to get the better of him, but as Tohru lifted her hand to blow against the wet polish she seemed happy enough with the outcome.

“Thank you,” she said softly, examining the plain pink on her nails like it was some famous masterpiece or something of the like. He wanted to grab a hold of that hand, to feel her soft skin against his own calloused palm, all under the guise of examining his work.

“You’re welcome,” he said, standing up quickly and heading for the door before he could change his mind. “See ya.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Tohru open her mouth as if to say something, but Kyo kept walking. He was already in the corridor before she could even have a chance to speak and he didn’t stop until he reached his own room.

He pushed thoughts of Tohru from his mind as he dropped onto his futon. It would lead to nothing after all, so he resolved to do nothing about it.

His glass of water stood forgotten on the table beside that bottle of pink polish.

 iv.

Tohru’s elbows pressed almost painfully into the counter as she leaned against it, but she barely even noticed. Her gaze was fixed on the window, or more specifically, at the bright sun that she could see rising just beyond it.

The near silent bubble of the rice cooker lulled her into a state of calm in the dusky dawn light, spreading through the kitchen like a warm mist. Her thoughts were peacefully empty as she breathed in deeply.

She spent several minutes that way, gazing out at the slowly waking world illuminated in a beautiful golden glow that would die down as the sun rose fully. She didn’t look away until the sound of soft footsteps shuffling down the stairs drew her gaze.

A ready smile sprang to her lips as she spotted a shock of orange through the doorway. “Good morning, Kyo-kun,” she beamed.

The boy padded into the kitchen, glancing blearily in her direction. “Hey, you,” he said, voice still deep from slumber. The timbre rumbled through her and Tohru found herself suddenly standing up straighter.

Kyo rubbed at his eyes, attempting to chase away the last clutches of sleep. “Uh, Tohru,” he said, glancing around him as if searching for something. “You haven’t seen my phone anywhere, have you? I thought I left it in here last night.”

Tohru squinted in thought, knowing she’d seen it somewhere. “Oh. It’s right …” she said, swivelling around and biting her lip as she reached beside the fruit bowl. “Here,” she finished, holding it up proudly in the palm of her hand.

“Thanks,” Kyo murmured. His eyes lingered on it sitting in her hand, but he made no move to take it off of her. Tohru held it out anyway, wondering what was stopping him before realising that he was watching her a little more closely than normal.

Her heart thudded in her throat as she saw that indecipherable look in his eyes, swallowing nervously as she forced herself to look away. She turned her attention back to the window, realising with a start that the dawn’s golden glow had faded without her realising.

The sky was fully clear and a beautiful violet blue, but instead of seeing the beauty in front of her eyes, all she could do was anticipate the brush of Kyo’s fingertips against her skin, wait for the gentle sparks of his touch to flit across her palm.

But the feeling never came.

She felt the weight disappear from her hand, but when she turned to Kyo she found that he was no longer beside her. He was across the kitchen, standing beside an open fridge. He held a carton of milk in one hand and his phone in the other as he frowned at the boxes of leftovers.

Tohru startled as the rice cooker dinged loudly behind her. “I’m making rice and salmon for breakfast,” she announced hurriedly as Kyo glanced at her over his shoulder. As if the sound wouldn’t have already alerted him. “It’s almost ready,” she added quietly, trying her best to keep her voice casual.

“Okay,” he said, placing the box of leftover fish on the counter for her before turning to leave, the carton of milk still clutched in his hands. “I’ll go wake the others up.”

Tohru sighed at his retreating form as he left the kitchen, her heart heavy with an emotion she couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t regret, at least not entirely, although she was sure it definitely had something to do with the way she felt.

She tried to ignore it, but even as she distractedly plated the food, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what had made Kyo be so careful around her. So careful that he refused to touch her in the slightest.

It wasn’t the curse; she knew that much at least.

But then, what was it about her that repulsed him so much? She bit the inside of her cheek as she took the plates to the table, the thought haunting her for the rest of the day.

 v.

Kyo entered Tohru’s room cautiously.

He had permission to be there, obviously – he wouldn’t have dared walk in otherwise – but it still felt weird to be there when she wasn’t. He glanced around to take in the pristine room, tidy and organised just as he knew it would be.

He spotted her zodiac figurines sitting on a shelf across her bed, his lips quirking at the final cat she’d crafted herself to make sure he didn’t feel left out. He walked over to it, marking the small imperfections in her sculpting and appreciating it even more for it.

Turning back around, he reminded himself that he was here for an actual reason. Tohru, Yuki, Momiji and himself had been halfway to the mall when she’d realised she’d forgotten her purse at home.

She’d been working most of the week, and since Hana and Uotani were already waiting for her, he’d offered to come back instead of making her waste more of her time. It had been easy to play it off as needing some time away from Momiji and his antics, but Yuki had given Kyo a look he hadn’t liked in the slightest.

His grey eyes were so light and piercing that they almost seemed to pull some unknown truth to the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t been sure what the boy had been searching for, but it definitely made him uncomfortable.

Kyo was glad to be away from him.

Now, where had Tohru said her purse was again? The red headed boy frowned as he tried to remember something that wasn’t the quiet joy on her face when he said he’d go back for her.

In all honesty, his brain had been a little preoccupied with shutting down his own unwanted thoughts of her that he’d barely had any energy left to listen to the rest of her request. He remembered her saying something about the bed, so decided to start there.

He scanned the perfectly smoothed duvet for any signs of her brown purse, but nothing. He did notice a slight dip on the far pillow though and followed it. He found the object of his search on the floor beside it, clearly having slipped off at some point, and lifted it off the ground.

He ran his fingers over the worn leather, wondering how many times Tohru had done the exact same thing. It was a little weird he knew that but, holding something so precious to her, he could almost pretend he was holding her.

He was much too spinelessness to do that of course, the past few weeks of avoiding her as much as he could had been enough to show him that. He’d spent many nights awake during the small hours of the night, staring at the ceiling and wondering if she had noticed his reluctance around her.

She must have he’d deduced eventually – he wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety after all.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to touch her and hold her hand. In fact, he wanted it so much that the thought scared him more than just a little bit. He knew where his life was headed, a captive future laid out for him since birth, and that alone should have stopped his thoughts of her dead in their tracks.

But they only rebelled harder, persistent in their desire to know her.

He released a soft exhalation filled with unbridled wanting as he held her purse a little tighter. This at least he could hold without worry or false expectations. It wasn’t her, but it was the closest he felt he could get.

At least for now.

He kept a gentle grip on the purse the whole way down the steps that led away from Shigure’s house until he reached the mall where the others were waiting for him. He tossed it gently in Tohru’s direction, and though she stumbled and flailed, she managed to catch it with words of gratitude falling from her lips.

Kyo waved them away as he turned to the others, regretting his decision instantly as he caught sight of Yuki, that same look in his gaze that he had thought he’d evaded earlier. “Stop it,” the other boy said plainly. “Your cowardice will hurt her more than anything else ever could.”

The others had already begun to move on, leaving the two of them alone.

“What are you talking about?” Kyo grumbled, faking irritation to hide the fact that he understood Yuki perfectly. And that he was right.

“You’re going to have to decide what you want at some point. Make the right choice for once,” Yuki said cryptically, brushing past Kyo without waiting for a response.

Anger simmered within Kyo, but not for Yuki or even the truths he spoke. No, his anger was wholly for himself and himself alone. He knew he was hurting Tohru, he’d seen as much in her eyes every time he took the pains to avoid her outstretched hands, and yet he kept doing it anyway.

How much longer would he keep playing at this and pretending that he didn’t want to touch her every time she was near? Kyo turned to follow after the others, reluctant to face that question, let alone all the complications that would follow.

He still felt the ghostly feel of her purse on his palm, reminding him that he’d have to decide soon enough. But he already knew what his answer would be.

 vi.

It was a rare movie night when Tohru found herself sat on the floor sandwiched between Yuki and Kyo. Momiji lay sprawled out on the floor in front of them, his wide eyes glued to the television screen.

They’d ended up choosing one of the several movies the younger Sohma had brought along with him, the only stipulation being that it wasn’t scary. Nobody wanted a repeat of the haunted house incident, and as it stood, Tohru wasn’t sure her head would ever fully recover from that day.

Despite her initial excitement at spending the evening relaxing with her friends, Tohru found that she had no idea what was happening in the movie. From the moment Yuki had pressed play, or perhaps even before, her mind had been occupied by another thing entirely – namely, Kyo.

He sat right beside her, shoulder almost brushing against hers with one leg pulled up so he could lean back a little. He was glaring at the screen in annoyance, from being forced to watch the movie or because he was confused by it, Tohru couldn’t be sure.

What she was sure of was the fact that his hand was resting on the ground, just inches away from her own. If she moved hers just so she could tangle their fingers.

Even though she knew he probably wouldn’t want her to, Tohru couldn’t help but want to feel that he was there. If he didn’t react, then at least she could just pretend that she was trying to get comfortable and hadn’t noticed – although she wasn’t sure she’d actually be able to convince anyone.

With a soft breath and a burst of courage she wasn’t aware she had she slid her hand a little closer to his.

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she felt more than saw his eyes drift towards her as he noticed the slight movement. She dared a quick side glance only to find that he was frowning at the ground where her hand rested.

She curled her fingers inwards instinctively, wondering if she should pull back when Kyo’s own movement caught her attention.

His hand lifted into the air and covered his mouth in a disinterested yawn and Tohru felt cold disappointment wash over her as she realised her attempts had been futile. The emotion must have unintentionally crossed her face because Kyo’s lips twitched in amusement.

It took her a moment to realise that she was being weird and staring at him and she quickly dragged her gaze down to her hand instead, ready to pull it onto her lap and forget the last few minutes.

But before she could, Kyo’s hand came down on top of hers, warm and firm. She bit back the nervous gasp that threated to spill from her lips as his fingers dragged across her knuckles and came to rest on the ground beside hers.

Her murmured a soft apology.

Tohru only had to take a single look at him to know that the yawn was a ruse. The glint in his eye proved his actions were deliberate. She let a small smile work its way onto her lips as she turned back to the movie that filtered around her in waves of incoherent sounds and flashes.

He was closer to her now, so close that even if she wasn’t looking, she could stretch out her curled fingers and be able to feel his touch again. The fact that he had reached for her first and closed the distance between them once already made her bold and she did just that.

Slowly, so slowly that she wondered if she was actually even moving, Tohru reached out for Kyo until the tips of her fingers brushed against his. Her skin sparked to life at every point she met his skin and she couldn’t help but wonder that if the barest touch did this to her, what would it be like if he touched her fully.

Her heart flickered with warmth as Kyo tapped her fingers with his own. It became harder and harder to pretend that she was trying to watch the movie and she hoped that neither Yuki nor Momiji noticed. She really should have been more concerned that either of the two would notice her fingers tangled with Kyo’s but Tohru couldn’t bring herself to care.

Every living part of her was focused solely on Kyo and the way his fingers danced with her own, creating soothing words in a silent language that she couldn’t yet translate beyond a peaceful stillness.

If he would let her, someday she would do everything in her power to learn it, and him along with it. But for now, she was content with their furtive dance and their secretive smiles so long as it meant he was near.

- x - 

started writing this back in august. several mental breakdowns later, bon appetite. title from ‘this side of paradise’ by coyote theory

[mistymark]

the one with the ex boyfriend. [renjun]

summary: you and your ex boyfriend, renjun, take part in a video interview surrounding your past relationship.

based off of ‘the exes confronting each other’ seventeen series by @skydivingstars

[ex boyfriend interview series masterlist] [main masterlist]

[The video begins with a bare set. Both the wall and the ground are grey, save for the two black spinning stools in the middle of the screen, only a metre or two apart.]

[Two people walk in, from opposite sides of the screen, gently taking a seat on the stools. They make eye contact briefly before turning away from each other.]

[We’re currently doing a series on exes and past relationships. I believe your mutual friend asked you to do this? Okay. Well, we’ll just be asking a few questions. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, or if you just need a break, just let us know. We can skip a question or edit a section out if you would like. Ready?]

[Could you introduce yourselves and your relationship?]

[Momentary silence.]

Y/n: my name is Y/n

Y/n, unsure: I'm, um, renjun’s ex-girlfriend

Renjun, clearing his throat: I’m renjun... y/n’s ex boyfriend.

[How did you guys meet?]

[Y/n’s eyebrows furrow in thought, Renjun lifts a hand to the back of his neck.]

Renjun, feeling awkward, laughing: it was in middle school

Y/n: oh, yeah, probably

Y/n, laughing at the memory: we weren't friends back then

Renjun, feeling a little more at ease now, snorting: yeah, because I was ugly

Y/n, smiling as she scolds him: don’t say that!

[Y/n faces forward, but Renjun has turned his stool so that he’s facing her, his side to the camera.]

Y/n: renjun was adorable back then

Renjun, skeptical, raising an eyebrow: even with the teeth?

Y/n, turning to him, mock offended: especially with the teeth

Renjun, shrugging at the camera: y/n was really pretty in middle school

Renjun, nonchalantly: I remember because I had the biggest crush on her

[It is evident from Y/n’s face that she was not aware of this. Renjun tries to fight a smile as he looks down briefly.]

Renjun, grinning to himself as he unscrews the lid of his drink bottle: and I never stood a chance.

[When did you first realise you were interested in each other?]

Renjun, with a big smile at the easy question: middle school

Y/n: uh, I don’t know, end of freshman year? start of sophomore year?

Renjun, now laughing, teasing her: well, I'd hope so considering we started dating at the start of sophomore year

Y/n, wincing at her error: oh... right

[Zoom in on Y/n.]

Y/n, confidently: end of freshman year

[The camera pans over to Renjun, who’s smiling and trying to stop himself for laughing.]

[Why did you break up?]

Y/n: we -

Renjun, nodding: exams.

Y/n, sighing: yeah.

[What do you mean?]

Renjun: we were both really focused on our studies, and we agreed that it would be too much of a distraction to be dating during exam season

[You broke up in senior year, then?]

Y/n, nodding, a tight-lipped smile on her face: yeah, middle of senior year.

[But you still had feelings for each other?]

[They both nod. Y/n is still politely smiling, but Renjun is chewing the inside of his lip, looking at something on the ground in front of him, thinking.]

[Did you have the intention of getting back together?]

[Renjun looks up at the question, and turns to Y/n to answer.]

Y/n, sighing: truthfully, yeah.

Y/n: but we never did.

[Renjun nods in agreement.]

Renjun: at first, nothing really changed when we called it off - we were still best friends, and best friends hung out, right?

Y/n, smiling widely: but we didn’t just hang out, which was part of the problem.

Renjun, turning to her, confused by her wording: huh?

Y/n, explaining to the camera more so than Renjun: we used to make out. a lot. even when we were ‘just friends’ again - and do basically everything else couples would normally do

Y/n, counting on her fingers: go on dates, text each other all the time, not date anyone else - we were basically still dating

[Renjun’s watching Y/n as she explains, the faintest of fond smiles on his face.]

Y/n, continuing: eventually, we thought it would be best if we just... created some distance, you know?

Renjun, zoning back into the conversation: and then we just got used to being apart, I think

Y/n, softly: yeah

[Renjun looks to the side to see if she’s okay. Y/n offers him a smile and then turns back to the camera expectantly. Renjun follows suit.]

[What did you love most about each other?]

Y/n, happily: Renjun was the perfect first boyfriend

[Renjun’s eyebrows raise at her answer.]

Y/n: we didn’t have any huge fights or a massive breakup, so it’s a relationship I'll always look back on fondly

Renjun, nodding along to what she was saying: actually, yeah, I think so, too.

[When you were dating, though? What drew you to each other more than anything else?]

Y/n: oh, you meant while we were dating

Renjun: y/n was... well, she was really beautiful

[Y/n’s lip twitches up at his comment.]

Y/n, having a sudden realisation: oh, yeah, we were in middle school when he started liking me. guess that makes sense.

[And Y/n?]

[Renjun recognises he doesn’t have to talk for this part so he bends down to his drink bottle, lifting it up for a drink.]

Y/n: renjun... renjun had this aura of self confidence around him

[Renjun almost spits out his water. It’s clear he doesn’t agree.]

Y/n, looking at him, simultaneously confused and amused: what?

[Renjun coughs excessively while Y/n looks on with wide eyes, still confused.]

Y/n, rolling her eyes: maybe self-confidence wasn’t the right word

Y/n, shrugging: he just knew exactly what he wanted and he studied really hard to get it - he was very mature

Renjun, joking, in a funny voice: she thought it was sexy

Y/n, looking upwards: why did I date you?!

[Renjun’s mouth drops down; he’s smiling but he’s acting offended.]

[Renjun leans over and playfully tries to push her off her stool.]

Y/n, attempting to maintain her balance: h-hey!

[What did you hate most about each other?]

Y/n: um, I'm not sure.

Renjun, cocking an eyebrow: you’re biting your lip. you have something to say.

Renjun, turning to the camera, explaining: she bites her lip when she’s holding back.

[Y/n is still thinking about whether or not to say it; she doesn’t acknowledge Renjun’s comment.]

Y/n, shaking her head once: no, it sounds bad.

Renjun, smiling encouragingly: say it.

Y/n, to the camera, actively ignoring his gaze: the fact that he was so focused on his studies.

[Renjun is clearly taken aback by this answer; silenced.]

Y/n, quickly explaining: don’t get me wrong, I was the same. but, if we weren’t so academically-minded we probably could’ve kept dating...

Y/n, biting her lip: I don’t know, it’s probably not true

[Renjun makes a face, confused, a bunch of question marks surround his head.]

Renjun, smiling to himself: I hated the fact that she agreed we should spend some time apart

Y/n, laughing: what?

[Renjun turns to Y/n.]

Renjun, teasingly accusing her: if you had said no, I probably would've caved!

Renjun, in a more serious tone, to the camera now: after we’d officially broken up, and stopped spending time together, I missed her a lot, and I hated the fact that she agreed with me

Renjun, softly: if one of us had disagreed, we probably could’ve worked through it

[Y/n bites her lip, before her eyes snap up to look at something off-camera.]

[Would you say you were in love?]

Renjun: ... we were so young

Y/n, biting her lip: yeah...

Renjun, confidently looking up at the camera: but, yeah, I'd say I was in love,

[Y/n turns to looks at him, shocked. He knows she’s looking, though he doesn’t look up to see. He shrugs.]

Y/n, quielty: I think... you were the closest thing I got to love

[Y/n, you’ve dated since?]

[Renjun turns to her expectantly, waiting for her answer.]

Y/n, humourlessly laughing: yeah, I went on a lot of dates, actually.

Y/n: none of them came close to Renjun

[Renjun smiles at her response, but she quickly adds on:]

Y/n: close to what I had with Renjun

[Renjun’s smile falters slightly, and it slowly morphs into his resting face.]

Renjun, offended, looking around the set: how come I didn’t get asked if I was dating anyone?!

[Zoom in on Renjun.]

Renjun, looking at one of the producers: is she still really that much hotter than me?

Renjun, settling back into his seat when the staff don’t respond: ouch.

[The camera pans to show Y/n, crouching on the ground beside her stool (she almost fell off it from laughing so hard), clutching her stomach as she tries to stop herself from laughing. Renjun looks to where she’s sitting and a grin starts to grow on his face, but he turns back to the staff and shakes his head, still smiling at her reaction.]

Renjun, mumbling: it’s seventh grade all over again

[He looks up with wide eyes when someone offside laughs]

[Last question, you guys. Would you give it another shot?]

Y/n, nodding: it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other

Renjun, smiling, pointing at her: but you’re nodding

Y/n, rolling her eyes: yeah, I'd give it another shot

Renjun, focusing back on the camera: same

[And that’s a wrap! Thank you so much for participating, guys. You’re free to go now.]

Y/n, smiling and bowing her head slightly: thank you!

Renjun, following suit: thank you so much

[The staff begin talking and the sound from the mics begin to waver. Renjun and Y/n step off their stools and grab their waters.]

Y/n: did you really mean that? ab-

Renjun: I meant all of it... lol

[Y/n laughs at this.]

Y/n: you regretted the fact that we ended things?

Renjun, scuffing his foot along the ground: yeah. did you?

Y/n, pretending to think about it, shouldering her bag and turning on her heel: Iiiiiii don’t know. did I?

[The sound from her mic fades as she walks offset. Renjun grins after her, picking up his water and walking after her.]

Renjun, calling out to her: hey! I'll pick you up at 7?

Y/n: be there on time!

[The sound cuts.]

[queen-of-bel]

some semi-structured ramblings about kaz and paz, and why their dynamic is probably my favorite relationship of any media i’ve ever consumed

I really really love the dynamic that Paz and Kaz have with each other for so many reasons.

First off, it highlights two very important personality traits about Kaz during the Peace Walker era. It shows off how warm and friendly Kaz can be, but it also demonstrates how overconfident and reckless he is.

He takes what he considers to be “calculated risks”, vastly overestimating his own abilities to offset any negative consequences. He invited a Cipher agent to their own home turf, all for the sake of expanding MSF. It was risky as hell, and Kaz knew that, which is why he kept it a secret from Snake. In his mind, he had a plan to negate the risk of any damage that Cipher could do to them-- befriend Paz and have her switch allegiances.

Kaz knew exactly who she was– a spy only a few years younger than himself. He also knew what her objective was from the beginning. This is something that he admits to Snake at the end of Peace Walker. And yet, he still struck up a deal with Cipher and invited her and Zadornov to Colombia anyway.

It really is heartwarming to see how much effort Kaz put into reaching out to Paz.

After Zadornov was first captured, “Paz” had nowhere else to go, as Zadornov was paying for her room and board. I put “Paz” in quotes, because that was the situation that the character of “Paz Ortega Andrade” was in, not Pacifica Ocean.

Kaz knew this, and the risk of having Paz on mother base, but he was the one who really pushed for Paz to live there regardless. To quote Paz:

“I told the man that with no more money from the KGB, I could no longer afford school. …He bought my story, and when I said I would be willing to work, he took pity on me and let me stay. For some reason Miller really plead my case. That was helpful, but the man is still a fool…”

Now, you can chalk this up to him just going along with the business deal that he struck with Cipher, but his actions moving forward indicate otherwise.

It’s undeniable that Kaz really went out of his way to give Paz a comfortable and peaceful life while at MSF. Her diary tapes highlight all of the sweet interactions that they had:

“What I have got is just a common cold. The medical team said I’d need a few days’ rest, so I’ve been restricted to my room and put on bed rest…  Miller told me to take it easy. “I will sing you a lullaby,” he said, then broke out a guitar and sang some incomprehensible song in Japanese. I did not need to understand the lyrics to know he’s an awful singer. Then he said, ‘You know what is good for a cold? Suppositories! Here, I’ll show you…’ He began to take off his pants, so I threw my tissue box at him to make him go away.”

“Every month, Mother Base throws a party for all the soldiers whose birthdays fall in that month… Miller seemed a little protective of me. ‘Hope they’re not being too crude,’ he said. ”

“‘C'mon, we even both have ‘peace’ in our names,’ said Miller. ‘And Zadornov - that old Russkie’s name has something to do with peace, too, right? Hey, as long as we’re having a day of peace, we ought to get an act together - The Three Peace Band!’ I thought he was joking. He then proceeded to share his idea without bothering to check with me, and now I am slated to sing. Apparently, he had heard me on deck one day and since then he’s wanted to form a band”

“With the lyrics finished, I was ready to show Miller. He does not often take things seriously, but all of a sudden he was saying ‘Paz, you have the soul of an enka songwriter.’”

(That last quote is technically from Phantom Paz, but nothing in PW states that Kaz himself was the one who wrote the lyrics for Love Deterrence, only the melody, so I’m going to go ahead and include this MSGV tape)

Of course, you could always make the argument that Kaz was just playing a role, that he was just going along with Cipher's lie and giving Paz special treatment because she's "just a teen", but let's compare his interactions with Paz versus his interactions with Chico, another youth at MSF.

Kaz's interactions with Chico were minimal at best. Not to say that he didn't like Chico, because he absolutely did. But there were never any special interactions between the two of them in the same way that he interacted with Paz.

In fact, Kaz never put that much effort into bonding with anyone else at mother base. Not Amanda, not Strangelove, not Huey, or even Cecile (or any other women at MSF that he would try to seduce). It’s clear that Kaz treated Paz differently than everyone else at MSF. Kaz is a very suave and charismatic person, and he’s used to charming his way into getting what he wants in life, with pretty minimal effort. Paz alludes to this in one of her diary tapes, scoffing at the fact that female MSF soldiers fall for his flirting "so easily".

Now, Kaz never tried to approach Paz romantically, but the success of his whole "let's get this Cipher agent to switch allegiances to MSF" plan rested on his overwhelming charm. Relying on his charisma has not failed him yet, and he had no reason to think that this situation with Paz would be any different. He thought that by reaching out to Paz, she would become loyal to MSF, effectively eliminating any threat that Cipher posed to MSF.

This is where his overconfidence comes in. He vastly underestimated Zero’s power, and how much of a grip Zero had on Paz. Paz absolutely despised Zero, but ultimately, she was terrified of betraying Cipher, calling the repercussions of that action “a fate far worse than death”.

Although, it's not as if Kaz’s efforts were completely wasted. Paz’s commitment to Cipher was wavering as time went on, and as she spent more time with MSF and everyone on mother base. However, it's important to note that Paz wasn't just grateful to the MSF staff as a whole. She was, but she particularly wanted to be close to Kaz.

In her diary tape when she was describing Kaz’s womanizing and his and Snake’s infamous sauna fight, she says something at the end that was really sad to me.

“But somehow I got the sense that for all his womanizing, Miller really only trusted one person, and that was Snake. There was no way I could ever come between the two of them. And at that thought I began to feel as if I had lost.”

We know that Paz had romantic feelings for Snake. She's suspiciously adamant in her third diary entry about her lack of interest in Snake, but her diary entries in the Phantom Pain were more honest about her feelings:

"[Snake] saved me, and I feel indebted to him, but I thought that was all he meant to me. Why does my heart flutter when I think of him?"

So going back to her diary entry in Peace Walker. When she says that she feels "lost", we know that this wasn’t her lamenting about Kaz’s womanizing habits, or what she calls his infatuation with Snake. What upsets her is her observation that Kaz only trusts Snake. She has this hopeless feeling that Kaz would never trust her in the same way.

Paz clearly wanted to be friends with Kaz. Not just friendly surface interactions, but she wanted to get to know Kaz more and bond with him on a deeper level. Unfortunately, it is this exact hopelessness that prevented Paz from expressing these feelings to him.

Of course, Kaz was blind to this inner conflict of hers. When you combine this with not only his underestimation of Zero's power, but his own overconfidence in his charisma, it's a bit of a recipe for disaster.

We see this testament to Kaz’s overconfidence after the ZEKE battle. He's actually shocked that Paz went through with Cipher's plan anyway. He really thought that his efforts to reach out to her worked, as he tells Snake:

“How could Paz… We were going to start a band together…”

At this point, Kaz has already come clean to Snake about knowing Paz's real identity. He no longer has to put up a front of "this is just a teenager". What this says to me is that these are Kaz's genuine feelings. He really was looking forward to starting a band with her, and performing with her on Peace Day.

I really like this moment because it shows that Kaz didn't just think of Paz as a way to expand MSF. He didn't spend all this time with Paz simply because it would benefit him. He felt a genuine desire to befriend and be close with her.

He’s clearly crushed that his efforts to befriend her failed. After the ZEKE battle, he admits that there was only one thing on his mind:

“After Paz tried to steal ZEKE from us, and we watched her get pulled beneath the waves… There was one thing I kept asking myself. Which was the real Paz? And which was the lie?”

What's interesting to me is that he’s not concerned about any damage to MSF that Paz may have caused, despite the fact that she hijacked ZEKE. He’s not even angry that she betrayed MSF, attempting to launch a nuclear strike on the east coast of the USA under MSF's name. He’s just dumbfounded and shell-shocked. Now, this is just my personal speculation, but I think his self-confidence really took a blow in this moment. He's always prided himself on his charisma and business acumen. For Kaz, to think that he so horribly and completely misjudged Paz’s character was a harsh wake-up call for him.

As time goes on, he does become angry, though. It’s mostly (misplaced) anger at Paz, but underneath it all, I think he’s mostly angry with himself.

In GZ, he asks Snake to bring Paz back alive, saying to kill her only if “worse comes to worst”. He uses the excuse that he wants her alive only because he wants to interrogate her and that she knows too much, but there are a couple lines of his during that mission that betrays his feelings:

“Paz is our only link to Cipher. If she’s still alive… …We need her on our side. If not us, who else is gonna rescue that bitch?”

I like that last line a lot because it really shows how conflicted Kaz feels about her. Yes, Kaz wants information on Cipher. Yes, Kaz is angry at Paz. But Kaz also wants Paz to be saved, by somebody, anybody. He just feels that MSF is the only group qualified to do so.

Now, I definitely don’t think that Paz’s well-being was the only motivation for Kaz’s asking Snake to bring her back alive. It’s just that underneath all the anger, Kaz is still clearly emotionally attached to her. In fact, Kaz even says:

“When we get our hands on Paz, intel on Cipher isn’t the only thing I want out of her. Putting aside her mission, her past, that sense of loyalty they drilled into her… I want to know… what she really thought of us.”

Ever since the ZEKE battle, Kaz has clearly been tormented with this question. At this point in time, Kaz is fully aware of what Zero and Cipher are capable of, and why Paz was sent to him. However, he recognizes Paz as more than just a Cipher agent. He wants to look past all of that– the “Paz Ortega Andrade” that Cipher had built up. He has to know what “Pacifica Ocean” truly thought of him and MSF. Whether or not his efforts to reach out to her were successful or not.

What makes this even sadder is that after the attack on mother base, Kaz incorrectly thinks that it was Paz who sold out MSF. He feels utterly betrayed, and his temper reaches a breaking point, lashing out at Paz, calling her a “spying bitch” and even attempting to attack her (which I firmly believe he would have if the medic hadn’t been holding him back).

Thinking about this from Paz’s perspective is also horribly depressing. She suffered so much torture at the hands of Skull Face, but she remained loyal to MSF, asking Skull Face to kill Zero if it meant it would save Snake. When Skull Face told her that he was planning to kill Snake as well, she pleaded with him to change his mind. Obviously, Kaz's plan worked. She did switch allegiances, betraying Zero in order to save Snake and MSF.

And yet, this is something that Kaz didn’t know. He thought that her loyalty ultimately laid with Cipher, which is why he was so furious after the attack on MSF. Paz likely didn’t even know that MSF was attacked, as she came to after Morpho had flown everyone away from base. The last experience of her life was nothing but pure rage and hatred from the person that she wanted to be closest to on mother base.

I don’t know, I just really love these two characters and their relationship a lot. Thinking about the friendship that they could have had, and the misunderstandings and tragedies that prevented either of them from knowing the truth was just heart-wrenching to watch throughout PW to GZ.

[cynicalrainbows]

Fanfic request! Anne is crying and Anna comforts her Or The queens discover that Anne is scared of thunderstorms and they have a bonding moment

So I sort of combined the prompts. Ish.

Written pretty quickly so not my best, but hopefully still ok.

I really like the idea of Anna and Anne being close- not just as chaotic-gremlin-partners-in-crime but as friends that fully have each others back and take care of each other.

Anna had always prided herself on being very, very good at entertaining herself. As much as she liked company, she didn’t need people with her to have a good time- she could watch movies, eat at restaurants and go out without anyone with her. Sometimes she picked up people on the way and sometimes she didn’t- the point was, she was very much self sufficient.

Which didn’t explain why she found herself feeling utterly bored one evening.

It wasn’t even just any evening, it was her evening off- something she looked forward to, as much for the chance to have the house to herself for a night as for anything else.

Not that she was entirely by herself- Anne was home too, laid up with a nasty cold that kept threatening to turn into something worse and she had called in sick at Cathy and Aragon’s combined persuasion (Cathy almost sitting on top of Anne to prevent her from getting up to get ready, while Aragon made the call to the theatre herself.)

She’d been left with strict instructions not to even approach Anne’s door without good reason Which she sort of understood- it wasn;t like Anne needed much encouragement to leave her sickbed- but then again, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t be trusted, she agreed that Anne needed to rest and it wasn’t as if she was just waiting for the queens to leave to lure Anne out of bed and into a pillow fight or something.

(The time with Kitty completely didn’t count. If anything, the pillow fight had cheered the girl up enough to actually acquiesce to spending another few days in bed, as per the doctors orders. That had been different.)

Still- checking that Anne had enough water and paracetamol was a good reason for disturbing her, surely? A totally unselfish reason. (And if Anne happened to need some distraction while she was checking on her...well, it wasn’t like she was going to refuse her. She wasn’t a monster.)

‘Anne?’

She tapped quietly at first, and then a bit louder. The storm outside had been getting louder for the past hour- she wondered if Anne had managed to stay asleep for it, or if she’d taken advantage of the noise to get up and do something more interesting, with the plan to use the ‘couldn’t sleep’ excuse if Jane or Aragon caught her out of bed.

Anna smiled to herself as she eased the door open, half expecting to see Anne with her switch in hand or at her easel.

Instead, the room was dark: through the dimness, Anna could just about make out the small figure curled up under the duvet, her back to the room.

She was just closing the door behind her- as quietly as she could, so as not to wake the obviously still-asleep queen, when a muffled sob gave her pause.

She stopped, her hand on the doorknob, wondering if she’d imagined it. A lull in the noise outside allowed her to hear more clearly- a very distinct sniffling, that was definitely not cold-related.

‘Anne?’

The noise stopped and she could see the figure freeze under the duvet- obviously the storm had also worked to drown out the noise of the door opening.

She came fully into the room, making her way to the side of the bed, kneeling down and reaching out to touch what she figured to be Anne’s shoulder.

‘Anne? What’s the matter?’

She felt her flinch slightly at the touch and tried not to feel hurt- she and Anne were usually so easy together.

‘-I’m fine, you can go back to bed’

‘It’s only 9pm Anne’

There was a silence- she wasn’t quite sure where to go from there. She’d had practise in coaxing Cathy into opening up more, but Anne was usually relatively open about how she was feeling, sometimes too much so.

‘Are you feeling worse?’

‘I’m really ok’

If it wasn’t for the fact that Anne’s voice broke on the last word, Anna might have been more convinced.

‘You’re really not.’

‘Please just go-’

Anne’s voice was very small but it hit Anna hard- she suddenly felt bad for pushing herself on Anne when she clearly wanted space. It wasn’t exactly surprising- they had their own share of trauma, they all dealt with it in different ways.

‘Ok.’

She stood up from the bed.

‘I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you need me ok? But you don’t have to talk about it and you’re allowed to have space if you want it. I love you.’

Leaning down, she pressed a kiss onto the upper part of the duvet and turned to go, an extra loud crash of thunder actually making her jump a little in spite of herself (she REALLY hoped it wasn’t affecting the show).

 As she pulled the door open though, she heard movement behind her:  she turned to see Anne sitting up in bed, the duvet puddled around her, her face red and hot and tearstained.

‘It’s- so stupid-’ She swiped roughly at her cheek with the back of her hand, her eyes on the carpet.

‘What is?’ Hurriedly, she resumed her place by the bed and reached out to rub gently up and down Anne’s shoulders. ‘I promise, grief is-’

Anne didn’t look comforted- if anything, she shrunk even further into herself, her cheeks flushing a bit, and mumbled something.

‘What?’

Again, her answer was unintelligible, even as Anna leant in.

‘Sorry?’

‘I don’t like storms, ok!’ Anne eventually looked up, half defiant, half teary and met Anna’s bewildered look. ‘I know it’s pathetic and I know it’s stupid and I know- I just know I’m being ridiculous ok? Just-’ Her scowl wavered and another tear slid down her cheek. ‘It’s really loud and being on my own makes it worse and-’

Anna was taken aback for a moment, having been expecting the revelation of some deepset trauma or PTSD flashback, not a simple fear of thunderstoms. Still, it was a relief too- she had to admit, she’d have had no idea how to best support Anne through something more serious, whereas this-

Unfortunately, her lack of response obviously had given Anne the wrong impression- pulling the duvet back up around herself, she curled back up on her side, facing the wall. Anna could hear her sniffling, even over the noise of the thunder.

‘Anne, no-’

‘It’s FINE, I know I’m being ridiculous-’ Her voice was muffled by the duvet. ‘Just go back to your room and you can make fun of me all you want with the others-’

‘Anne, no-’ Anna felt incredibly guilty- she really hadn’t intended to make things so much worse. ‘I promise, I don’t think it’s stupid-’

‘Of course you do- it is’ Anne curled up tighter.’ You don’t need to pity me, I’m fine-’

The anger in the words was slightly offset by the fact that they were being said through impossible-to-disguise tears and Anna’s heart broke a bit.

Climbing up off the floor, she settled herself onto the bed, wrapping her arms around the duvet-covered figure, pressing herself as close as she could to Anne’s back. She stiffened at Anna’s touch, but didn’t pull away either.

‘Anne, I promise I don’t think it’s stupid. I promise I’d never judge you for being scared of something- not ever, no matter what it was. I’m sorry I didn’t react right away, I was just thinking that I was glad it was something I could help with for a change.’

There was no response.

‘You’re always so amazing with me and… I feel like I never really thank you properly. Honestly, it sucks for you...but I was sort of glad I’d be able to repay you for breaking that guy's nose last week. Not that something like that can ever be repaid.’

There was a long pause.

‘Well… he shouldn’t have been an idiot….’ Anne’s voice was still watery but the fact that she was even replying made Anna’s heart lift and she tightened her arms around her.

‘Still- most people would have just said I should brush it off.’

‘He upset you- he ruined your evening-’ There was still a tinge of indignation in Anne’s voice.

‘No- he tried to ruin my evening. YOU completely saved it.’ Anna leant closer to Anne’s ear. ‘His face when you went for him- it just made my night babes-’

There was a pause and then Anne rolled over, turning herself to face Anna.

‘He did look stupid when he started freaking out over the blood getting on his tshirt didn’t he?’

Anna did a very fair imitation of a Liverpool accent. ‘This is Gucci, you stupid bitch!’

Anne gave a watery chuck and Anna pulled her closer, sitting up against the headboard and pulling Anne to lie almost on top of her, her head tucked under her chin.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t come in earlier-’

‘It’s ok- you didn’t know-’

Anne sniffed and Anna handed her a handful of tissues from the nightstand.

‘Still- I sort of like to think I have a sixth sense for these things-’

‘You usually do. You sort of did tonight-’

Anna shrugged. ‘Meh, I mostly was hoping you’d be awake so we could have a chat, I was getting bored out there on my own-’

‘Oh’ Anne tucked her head down, scrubbing at her red eyes and attempting a faux-light tone. ‘Sorry- bet you wish you’d just stuck to Netflix-’ 

‘No.’ Anna didn’t try to banter back, she just held her tighter. ‘I’m really glad you’re letting me be here.’

‘I’m glad you're here too.’ Anne’s voice was quiet. ‘Thanks….for not laughing. And staying.’

Anytime babes.’ Anna pressed a kiss to the top of Anne’s head and smiled as she felt her lean into it, so much more at ease than she had been earlier. ‘Any time.’

[belmontsfate]

MoF - Awakening: Ch 1

Back against the wall, Simon let his body slide to the floor, breathing heavily as he caught his breath. He was in a living nightmare. No matter where he went it seemed there were monsters everywhere, relentlessly getting in his way. It seemed like days had passed since he crossed the threshold into Dracula's Castle, and yet the ever present moon told him otherwise. The sun had yet to rise… It was still the same night as he had come.

"I need a break. A lot of good it'll do if I drop dead from battle fatigue before I even reach Dracula," he muttered to himself.

Once his breath had evened out, he got back to his feet, his hand reaching for the whip hanging at his side. In his haste to get away from all the monsters, he had rushed into the first room he found, not bothering to check and see if the room was even safe.

The room was circular in shape with stained glass windows, offset by statues of angels adorning the walls. Much like the rest of the castle, the room was covered with cracks and dried blood stains; a sign of previous battles or a previous meal. There was no way to tell the difference in a castle filled with vampires. Either way, there were no monsters to be seen.

Then he noticed the room's sole furnishing. Standing in the middle of the room was a massive stone sarcophagus.

The sarcophagus stood on a low pedestal shaped like a star. At the base of it were four dragon statues with glowing red eyes; the symbol of Dracula himself, and along the sides were the figures of four weeping women, each looking identical with long dark hair and brown eyes filled with tears.

"Can it be?" he wondered aloud. "Is this the tomb of Dracula?"

It was clear to see that a lot of work and care had gone into crafting it. Surely such a burial had to have been made for someone important. It made sense for the lord of the castle to have such an elaborate resting place. Yet, for some reason, he got the feeling that wasn't the case.

Reluctantly he approached the sarcophagus, climbing up onto the pedestal to get a better look at the lid. What he found left him confused. Written on the lid of the sarcophagus was a name, but it wasn't Dracula.

"Alucard?"

It didn't make sense. Who was this Alucard and why did he have a sarcophagus with the symbol of Dracula carved into it? Was he a high ranking vampire in Dracula's ranks?

He was still racking his brain, trying to understand the significance of the tomb, when he felt the lid begin to move beneath his hands.

Letting out a startled yelp, Simon leapt back. He cursed himself for becoming so taken in by the sarcophagus. This was Dracula's Castle, he reminded himself. He was going to get himself killed if he stopped to ponder every grave he stumbled upon.

With his whip out, ready to defend himself, Simon watched as the lid was pushed aside. After a moment, a figure arose from inside. His eyes widened in awe as he took in the sight. Standing before him was a man, tall and broad-shouldered with long white hair and glowing yellow eyes. There was no doubt about it … He was a vampire.

Climbing out of his sarcophagus, the white-haired vampire started towards him, staggering as if he was drunk.

"Get back!" Simon exclaimed, retreating a step back.

Much to Simon's surprise, this seemed to startle the vampire. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, raising his hands up in surrender.

"Forgive me if I startled you, but you seem familiar to me. Do I know you?" the vampire spoke, his fangs briefly peeking out from behind his pale lips.

Simon gave him a good look-over. He had to admit that there was something vaguely familiar about the white-haired vampire, but he couldn't put his finger on why or how.

"I doubt that. You wouldn't be walking this earth if we had met before."

"Have I done something to make you hate me?" the vampire asked. "If I have, I am deeply sorry."

"Your existence alone is enough to make me hate you, vampire!"

The vampire cokes his head to the side, giving Simon a questioning look, "Vampire? Is that who I am?"

Now it was Simon's turn to be confused. Was this vampire trying to mess with him? Was he trying to convince him that he was completely clueless? If he was, it was starting to work.

"You can't be serious… You mean to tell me that you don't even know what you are?"

The vampire shook his head. "All I know is that I just woke up inside a coffin," he explained. "I can't remember anything before… I had hoped that you knew who I was, seeing as you were there when I awoke."

Simon could see honesty in the creature's eyes. His golden orbs were filled with nothing but sorrow and confusion. He hadn't thought it possible, but he actually felt sorry for a vampire.

This man had clearly just been turned. Simon didn't know much about vampirism, but he knew enough to spot a newborn one. The man seemed weak, stumbling about, gripping the side of the sarcophagus for support as if he would collapse at any moment.

It made him wonder… Was this how all vampires awoke; Sad and unable to remember who they were before?

He shook his head. That couldn't be the case. He had heard tales of vampires coming back for those who had wronged them in their previous lives to have their revenge.

No, he got the feeling that this was a special case. This man looked like a vampire but he didn't really act like one. He could have lunged at him and ripped his throat apart by now, but he hadn't. He either wasn't thirsty or possessed a great deal of self restraint, especially for one who just awoke.

"I'm afraid I do not. I stumbled upon this room by accident, but judging from the name inscribed on the sarcophagus, I'd have to guess that your name is Alucard."

The white-haired vampire turned back to face the sarcophagus. Slowly he approached the lid, crouching down and running his clawed fingers over the name.

"Alucard… The name doesn't sound familiar, but I suppose it could have been my name."

After a few moments, the vampire, Alucard, stood again and began to gaze around the room.

"I feel like I've been here before… I-I think this was the room in which I died…"

Simon had figured as much. Though he was still puzzling over the significance of the sarcophagus and its significance. If this man had been killed and turned by Dracula, it seemed unlikely that Dracula would place him in such an elaborate tomb without reasoning. Could it be that this man was somehow special to the Vampire Lord?

"Does the name Dracula ring any bells?"

At the sound of the name, Alucard's stopped dead in his tracks. His shoulders tensed and his fists clenched as he slowly turned back to face Simon. The dark look on his face said it all.

"I don't know why… But when you said that name, I felt a rush of overwhelming anger flow inside of me," he said. "I do not know how I know him, only that I want to kill him."

"Well then, sounds like we have a shared goal. I too have come to Dracula's Castle in hopes of killing him. Perhaps if we team up, we might have a better chance of doing so."

Simon wasn't sure if the idea was wise. Joining forces with a vampire wasn't exactly something he would ordinarily do. He couldn't explain it, but he felt this connection to Alucard; as if they were meant to find each other. It was as if they knew each other somehow… As if they had always known each other.

Alucard nodded his head in agreement, extending a hand to him. "Might I know the name of the man I am to be fighting alongside of?"

Reluctantly Simon took the hand offered and shook it, being careful to not be scratched by the claws. "My name is Simon Belmont."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Simon Belmont," Alucard smiled. "I hope I can be of some help to you."

Through the windows, Simon could see that the night was starting to lift. For the moment, that was good. It would give them a bit of time to prepare. He could get some much needed rest, and Alucard … He doubted that the vampire needed rest … No, he assumed that what the vampire needed to recover its strength was to feed. The thought made him tense. He hadn't thought of how or who his accomplice would be getting his food from.

"Don't worry, I won't drink from you." Alucard assured him as if he had just read his thoughts. "You can rest here and I'll stand guard outside the door to make sure nothing disturbs you."

Simon let out a sigh of relief. Ordinarily he would have been more on guard, especially around a vampire, but for some reason he believed Alucard when he said he would keep him safe. He trusted him to guard him. It was truly bizarre, but he was much too tired to try and fight it.

"I'd appreciate that."

With a final nod of the head, Alucard staggered out of the room, closing the door behind him.

A part of Simon worried that his new friend would be too weak to take on any monsters that came his way, but he quickly shook such concerns away. Alucard was a vampire. He'd be fine. He needed to focus on himself for now.

Casting another glance around the room, he searched for a place to lay down. He briefly debated over trying the sarcophagus, but ruled that out soon after. There was no way he was going to sleep in the bed of the undead. Instead, he settled for a relatively clean spot on the floor in front of one of the many windows.

Laying down, he did his best to get comfortable, using part of his fur pelt to cushion his head. Secure in the knowledge that Alucard was standing guard outside and the sunlight that would surely wash over him while he slept would offer him more than enough protection, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. He was gone within minutes.

...

Alucard collapsed almost as soon as the door was closed. He needed to feed. He knew nothing else. There was blood everywhere, slowly closing in on him and threatening to overwhelm him. He had done his best to hide it from the red-haired man, but the truth was that he had been sorely tempted to drain him dry.

He didn't know who he was, but still he hated himself, or rather the vampire that he had become. Somehow he knew deep down that he hadn't always been this way. He had to have been human before, meaning that someone had made him this way… Someone had turned him, selfishly stealing him from the life he knew before, and judging by the hatred that bubbled inside of him at the mention of this Dracula, he suspected that he was the culprit.

If only he could remember who he was. Did he have a family somewhere outside of this castle? Were they missing him? Did they think him dead? That, he couldn't answer.

Then there was the issue of his name. Alucard… Was that really his name? It didn't fit as he felt it should. There were several names that sounded familiar, but Alucard was not one of them.

Simon Belmont, on the other hand, was a name that sounded so familiar to him. In fact, everything about him was familiar, yet he couldn't place why that was. He had this unexplainable desire to protect Simon from all those who would wish harm on him. Which is exactly why he fled from the room when he did…

Alucard knew that he was going to have to get his strength back if he was to be of any use, and the only way to do that was to sate his thirst. He was determined not to hurt his new friend, or any other human beings for that matter, but that didn't leave him with a lot of food sources.

That was when the beasts started to come. Dozens of dwarven hunchbacks came out of nowhere, running at him with wooden shields and pitchforks. They came to an abrupt halt in front of him, scratching their heads and mumbling something amongst themselves before continuing on with their attacks.

He struggled at first, unarmed and weak with thirst, but then he came across a strange cross-shaped weapon lying around in the hall. Without hesitation, he snatched it up and used it to fight off the hunchbacks.

Something deep inside him seemed to come into place. He felt somehow more whole than he had before. Like the weapon was an integral part of him that he had been missing for so long. From that moment on, he fought with ease. His body moved instinctively, as if it knew what it was doing on it's own. Before long, there was a pile of fallen hunchbacks at his feet.

"Who was I in my previous life?" he asked himself, staring down at the weapon in his hands. "Was I like Simon; a warrior who came to try and defeat Dracula?"

If he was, he had clearly failed. The nagging ache in his throat reminded him of such, but it also brought an idea to mind.

Crouching down before the pile of hunchbacks, he observed them for a moment, noticing blood dripping from the open wounds across their body. Their blood didn't exactly smell the most appealing to him, but it was there and so he scooped up one of the dead hunchbacks and sunk his teeth into its wrinkled flesh, draining the tiny body dry.

He did the same with four more hunchbacks, throwing them off to the side as he finished them off. Once he had his fill, he pulled back, wiping the excess blood dripping from his mouth with the back of his arm.

"Well, at least it did the trick."

Just like its smell, its taste left some to be desired, but the constant ache in his throat had lessened to a point where it was barely noticeable. Not only that, but he felt a bit stronger from it as well. He smiled. At least he knew that he had an effective substitute. He wouldn't have to worry about attacking Simon.

True to his word, he remained outside the door, listening to the slow but steady heartbeat of the man on the other side. Hours passed and though a few more hunchbacks did wander his way, his watch was uneventful for the most part.

Eventually, he heard Simon begin to stir, signalling that he was finished sleeping. He waited patiently outside the door, unable to re-enter the room on account of the open ceiling, until the door finally opened and the red-headed warrior emerged, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"As well as you can expect when you're lying on a hard floor," Simon said with a shrug.

It was then that Simon noticed the pile of hunchback corpses scattered about, eyeing them curiously.

"I take it you managed to find some food for yourself," he stated, glancing back over at Alucard. "I'd say it helped. You seem to be in a much better state than when you first woke."

Alucard nodded. "I also managed to find a weapon for myself," he held it up for Simon to see.

"It's a battle cross!" Simon's eyes went wide. "May I have a look at it?"

Alucard handed it over a bit reluctantly, feeling a bit bare without his new-found weapon.

Simon examined the battle cross quite thoroughly as if searching for something. Whatever it was, he obviously didn't find it judging from the frown that surfaced on his face.

"Is something wrong with it?"

"No, nothing like that," Simon insisted, handing it back to Alucard. "I thought it might have been my father's old battle cross, but I was mistaken."

Alucard raised a brow. "Your father had a weapon like this? What did you call it? A battle cross?"

"Yeah, apparently it's still here in the castle. I hope to find it before I face the Dark Lord."

"Well, I'll do my best to help you in that regard," Alucard promised. "I seem to remember the basic layout of the castle from before. I might have seen it somewhere and just passed by."

"That would be much appreciated, seeing as my previous guide just up and vanished on me," Simon muttered bitterly. Clearly there was some bad blood between him and his so-called previous guide. "Anyway, we should get going. I've already slept for a good part of the day and the other night creatures will no doubt be out again when night falls."

Both in agreement with the idea, they started off into the castle's winding halls.

[bluepenguinstories]

Velvet and Coriander’s Honeymoon

New Earth, new me. That’s how it worked, right?

Yeah, I wanted to make the most of things, start a little fresh, brush my teeth more than once a week, all that jazz, but my sweet love and I were in a bit of a predicament: see, we were in the middle of a frozen wasteland with nothing in sight to hold us over. Well, if that’s how we would die...at least we’d die together (no, but seriously, I wish I had a plan or something. I miss my ship (and no, I don’t just mean the relation-ship, that’s going just fine, thank you very much) and being able to hack my way through problems. All this did was remind me how I was no good against the elements. Oh well, I wasn’t about to let it show how agitated I was).

“Hey babe, wanna make snow angels?” I asked my blue haired munchkin companion.

“Now is not the time,” she groaned.

“Right! ‘Cause you’re my snow angel!” I pointed finger guns. Shivering, shriveled finger guns.

“We’re going to die out here, you know,” she pointed out, as if it were a given. OK. So maybe it was. Just a little bit. But I didn’t want to think so. Going through all these lengths, raiding Area 51, defeating The Flashbulb, saving (one version of) the world, things couldn’t just end like that, could they?

“Nah, you’re going to die! From a snowball!” I crouched down and formed a ball, then threw it at her face. She wobbled over, but managed not to fall. That just shows how badass she’s gotten!

“Argh!” She stomped. “We’re both going to get frostbite and all our limbs are going to fall off and you want to have a snowball fight?!”

I shrugged. “Unless you have a better idea?”

She stared, all blank face. Not quite a poker face, more dumbfounded. Not to say she was dumb, though!

On the contrary, she scooped up a snowball and threw it, but I swerved out of the way and watched it fall just past me. She then wiped her hands and scoffed.

“All right, I’ve got an idea!” She ran up to me and wrapped her arms over my shoulders. “We’ll share body heat until we can find shelter.”

“Excellent idea, my blueberry comrade. I’ve read many a fic about this,” I gave her my sailor impression of approval.

“Can you please say something normal?”

I shook my head. “Negative, Captain. I’m only going to get more delirious the longer we’re out here.”

So we did. Yes, both of us. Choice quotes like:

“Chosen one? More like the frozen one.”

“I wouldn’t mind being a roasted marshmallow right now.”

“Nevada wouldn’t treat me this way.”

Anyone’s guess who said what. Our brains were more frozen than an ice cream addict’s overdose. If that even made sense. There was more than one instance where we collapsed over each other and shivered on each other. It was terrible. Kinda hot, not gonna lie, but terrible.

Lucky for us, salvation came in the form of some small, yellow lights. I saw it about the same time time Coriander did, but she was the one to point it out. She leaned on my shoulder and jumped up.

“Look! Look!”

“Ow, ow!” I replied, as if that was the only reply I could give to her.

We followed the light. Of course, for all we knew, it could have been a car or a train (ha, who ever heard of trains in a place like that?) about to run us over. Just my luck, right? But it was our best bet, and any form of luck was good enough for me. As we approached it with each stilted step and kicked back the snow in front of us, we noticed that it was a building.

Like one of those log cabins you’d find on syrup bottles, it had the whole chimney smoke and everything. We trudged on over and each step closer was a step closer to living for one more day.

“Maybe Santa lives here?” Coriander suggested.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe that stuff,” I shot back.

“You’re just being grinchy cause you’ve been naughty.”

“N...No…” My teeth started to chatter. Wind blew as we were almost there. “I’ve been sexy, there’s a difference. Besides, saving the world should, like, offset any bad thing I’ve ever done.”

When we reached the door, we both shoved our way in and collapsed on the floor. Right on top of each other. Both of us were numb and in shock. Meanwhile…

“Oh great! I just swept the floor, too!”

We both looked up and saw someone with flowing seaweed green hair and a little shorter than Coriander.

“Sorry, we, uh…” Great. It wasn’t like I could just explain “we hopped universes and landed here, oopsies.” I had to assess the situation, figure out where I was at, and then act accordingly. Just as I always did. If I knew one thing about how things worked, it was that a little bit of observation went a long way. So I shoved Coriander aside (lovingly) and wobbled on up. I was still in a bit of shock and felt all dizzy and sick upon standing up.

I winced. As I tried to look around, my eyes were full of static. Then came the uncontrollable shakes and shivers. Soon, the image of the place came into view; at first a blur, but then a wooden counter took shape, and my eyes darted around the room. People came into view, just a few, but it was something. Booths, tables, and that’s when I realized where I was at.

“Is this a tavern?” I asked, my voice came as more of a hurried breath as I tried to speak again.

“Close. I mean, we serve drinks. Here, just seat yourself,” the young woman replied before walking toward the back of the room. Before she could get far, Coriander also managed to pick herself up and call after her.

“H...Hey! What about a heated blanket?!” She was also a shivering mess. We both looked ready to turn into little icebergs, though too small to sink any ships.

“That’s not on the menu,” she replied, rather rude at that. Well, I’d say so, but that also made sense. Who would want to eat a blanket?

Both of us took our stilted strides to the nearest booth on our right and sat down next to each other. We huddled together and held each other, hoping it would alleviate some of what we were going through.

“Can’t believe how rude she was,” Coriander muttered.

“I don’t know. Kinda reminds me of you,” I said back to her, which I could tell by her face that she was quite offended by such a remark. I mean, it wasn’t that I disagreed about the rudeness, but for me it was just something I was used to dealing with.

“Look, we may have been lucky in the past, but that doesn’t mean everyone we meet is going to be nice,” I reminded her.

“Still wouldn’t kill her to get us something to warm us up,” she grumbled.

Point well taken. For me, and the journey I’ve been on, I’ve learned to more or less take what I could get and sometimes that meant I got really lucky, but other times, it was just barely enough to get by. That wasn’t to say that life was easy for her, either, but through the course of my life, I just learned to be more pragmatic with my approach to things.

“Oh great, now there’s PDA,” I heard the complaint of little miss seaweed as I turned and saw her storm on over. She seemed to notice now the kind of condition we were in and jumped in place, then turned her head to the side.

“Look, uh...I didn’t really realize...jeez. Sometimes I don’t notice things, okay? So how about something hot to drink on the house?” She sounded real uncomfortable and as she looked away, I glanced and saw her slide a menu down at the table. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t any more comfortable than she was. Like, it’s not exactly paradise going through the stages of hypothermia, but what can you do, eh? Instead of some snarky remark, I just came up with the first thing to pop into my head.

“I’ll take a hot chocolate,” my words came out like a wheeze, just shy of hoarse. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, gimme coffee!” Coriander just about coughed up a roar.

“You get too energetic when you get coffee!” I reminded her.

“Do not! Anyway, I’ll have a mocha.”

That seemed like a fair compromise. Couldn’t really argue there.

“Got it,” she jotted down on her notepad. “One hot chocolate for Pippi Longstalking and one mocha for Blue Raspberry Starburst. I’ll have that out in a jiff.”

“Well, at least we know those things exist in this timeline,” I scoffed.

“Hey, you can’t just be talking about timelines willy-nilly,” Coriander scolded this time. “We don’t know what references we can and can’t make. What if we say something and it doesn’t make any sense to them?”

I shrugged.

“I’d be used to it.”

As we sat, I felt my body start to warm up a little. Taking in the atmosphere of the room, the warm and cozy air, I couldn’t help but be reminded of another instance where I was at a diner after almost dying from the elements. It seemed like I was a lot worse for wear back then. What with managing to escape a government facility within an inch of my life only to collapse from heat exhaustion. No friends to get me by, no idea where my ship was. If it wasn’t for being taken in by a nice middle aged lady I didn’t know if I’d still be around.

It’s kind of a funny thought now, because it seems like, at least on the surface, that the current situation wasn’t far removed from that time: I didn’t have an experimental aircraft to escape in, not anymore. I was ill-equipped for the cold, and most of the friends that I’ve made I’ve had to part with. But I think I consider myself lucky, that even if I had nothing else, even if I had been on the brink of death, at least I had Coriander with me.

The longer I thought of all that, the contrast between then and now, the whole trade off...I couldn’t help myself but lean over and give Coriander a kiss on the cheek. Even if my lips were cracked, and her cheeks already matched the color of her hair. As life returned to her, there was a bit of a rosiness, but it was clear it would take some time for both of us to warm up.

As soon as I pulled away she sunk her head.

���Here? Now? There’s people...and…”

“Worth it,” I stopped her, feeling rather triumphant.

I noticed someone approach, and I figured it would be Miss Seaweed with our drinks, but instead it was some tall buff lady with short, dark brown hair. She threw a blanket at us.

“I know what it’s like to be cold,” she told us, as if that wasn’t just some random act that required introduction. I should’ve been like “now do that again, but gently this time,” but I kept quiet. For my own sake.

We pulled the blanket down and I looked up. While she didn’t look like someone you’d wanna mess with, her overall look on her face was one of boredom. Or dejection? Exhaustion? Maybe it was just her Default Face. No shame there. I knew how that could be.

“Thank you, miss,” I did my best to be polite.

“Remora,” she informed me.

“Hm?” I was confused, but then I gave it some thought. “Oh! Your name!”

She gave a short nod.

“You can just call me…” I was gonna be real honest, I didn’t know how I was going to introduce myself to someone on a new Earth. It was a time to start fresh, so I could pick out a new name if I wanted to. “Plush?” I said at last, and figured that would suffice.

“Huh?” Coriander turned to me. “Oh, I see what you’re doing. Just call me Corduroy,” she told Remora. It worked.

As Remora turned away, I looked respectfully for a few seconds, then turned back to Coriander and sneered. “You should’ve said your name was Octillery.”

“Maybe I’m saving that one for a special occasion, you don’t know me,” Coriander defended, as if there was really anything to defend. Soon after, I looked down at the menu. There was the usual diner food. French toast, pancakes, hash browns, the like. But then there was some weird ones, like spaghetti and croque madame.

“I think I’d just like some eggs and toast,” I muttered. Weird as it was, my appetite just didn’t ask for much at the moment. Usually I could eat a truck load of fat, but maybe it was situation at hand that really made me not very hungry.

“How about this?” Coriander nudged. “Tartiflette?”

If only I had an encyclopedic knowledge of food, I’d have had an opinion. Instead, I suggested.

“Why don’t you order it and try it out?”

“No,” she disregarded. “I don’t want to order something and find out I don’t like it.”

“Then get something you know you’ll like?”

“No way! That’s too safe!”

I sighed. I couldn’t disagree, but I didn’t know what to tell her, either. Then again, I just realized one significant fact: neither of us had money.

“Psst, wanna dine and dash for old time’s sake?” I muttered to Coriander.

Before Coriander could answer, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I just about slapped that hand away, when I looked up and saw it was Remora.

“Don’t even think about it. If you need to pay for your meal, take this,” she handed me a stack of cash.

“Thanks. That’s really nice of you,” I blinked, as I flipped through the bills as if they were a deck of cards. Nice, but a little too nice. Like, who just gives away that much money?!

“Not really. It’s just less of a hassle than dealing with another redhead trying to rob the place,” she replied, as if that was some kind of regular occurrence.

I watched her walk away once more while humming what sounded like “Let It Go” or some bootleg version (or maybe on this version of Earth, their version was the superior one. Who’s to say?) of it.

Then Seaweed (that’s what I’d call her) came back with our drinks. We both thanked her, and Coriander took her cup and tried chugging it down before spitting it out.

“Ack! Too hot!”

“Why? Why would you just...who does that?!” Ol’ Seaweed over there balked. “Now I have to clean that! What a waste of a perfectly good drink!”

“Sorry about that,” I spoke on behalf of my other. “She can be a little impulsive sometimes.”

“Me?! Impulsive?! You’re the impulsive one!” Coriander protested.

“Not denying that, but I also know things.”

“Hey! I be knowing too!”

“Ugh...are you two ready to order or are you going to continue your comedy duo routine?” Seaweed groaned.

“I’ll just have some scrambled eggs and toast,” I told her.

“Yeah? Can I get a name for your order?”

Ooh. Should I have gone with Plush again or change it? Hmm...I wasn’t really committed to Plush.

“Parsley,” I said after some thought.

“Okay, what about you…?” She addressed Coriander.

“Yeah, so here’s the deal: I’d like to order a Gratin Dauphinois. I’d also like a BLT, and a turkey club, and a cinnamon roll. And just call me Cardamom.”

Seems the reason I didn’t have much of an appetite was because Coriander had stolen mine.

“Oh sure, do you want me to feed you grapes while you’re at it?” Seaweed scoffed.

“Not a bad idea,” Coriander snapped her fingers.

“Ugh...I bet those aren’t even your real names...but I can’t be assed to care.”

I nudged Coriander.

“Heh, she reminds me of you. Short and full of attitude.”

“No way! I’ve got a good few inches on her!” Coriander bragged.

Our gracious waitress chimed in with a groaned, “size doesn’t matter.”

Both Coriander and I laughed at that, while she went off to pass along our order to the cook.

While we waited, we had a good few minutes to collect our thoughts.

“Realistically, while it’s good to warm up and get some food in us, we will have to leave before too long,” I explained as I leaned forward. “We just need to figure out where we are, where the nearest landmarks are, and plan accordingly. If we can find a city, even better.”

“Or worse,” Coriander eyed me. “Sure, more people who could help us, but that also means more people who probably won’t. Sure, there’d be food and shelter, but more than likely, those things would cost money. Even with the money that Ramona gave us, that’s sure to run out before long. What then? Get jobs? Like hell. Plus, we don’t even got ID, so not even an option.”

I didn’t bother correcting her on that person’s name, and focused on the rest of the argument instead.

“OK, Sour Grapes. Maybe it’s good to have reality checks every now and then, but we’re also getting a nice meal and at the moment, warm. We’ve managed to last this long, so we ought to figure something out, right?”

“Yeah,” she slumped over the table and stretched her arms out across it. “But I don’t know what. We’re both the brains of this operation, but right now my brain’s got nothing.”

“That’s the thing, though: neither of us know anything right now. We don’t know what part of this world we’re on or what’s different about it than the world we’re used to. Let’s just ask the waitress a few basic questions, start from there?”

We agreed to that, and once Seaweed came back with our food, I started.

“Hey, what year is it?” I asked.

She leaned her head back and looked all confused. “It’s...the current year?”

“Oh, thank you. I know, obvious thing to ask, right? Like, who doesn’t know what year it is?” I peppered in. Under normal circumstance, such a question would never have come up.

At least now I knew that it was current year, and that was a start.

She set both our plates down. Then ran back toward the kitchen, grabbed a couple more plates, and returned it to Coriander.

“What about where we are?” I asked the waitress. “We’re, like, totes lost, dude,” as if that lessened the damage.

“Hmm...honestly, I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s like between Northern Canada and Greenland, but not really in either of those places. Kind of a gray area, y’know?”

Well, that didn’t help too much, but I at least had a general idea of the time and place.

Coriander dug into her potato thing, and then bowed her head.

“Finally, some good fucking food,” she sounded so relieved, then continued to chomp away.

Rather than eat, I couldn’t help but wonder a few more things. Even though I knew the waitress wouldn’t have a clue what I’d be talking about, I found myself thinking out loud.

“I wonder if there’s anyone I know in this timeline. There might be a Blanc, but I’m not sure where I’d even look. I also know there’s a version of Juniper here. I wonder how she’s doing.”

“Juniper? I have a cousin named Juniper,” our waitress replied to me. I was shocked to find her respond to my thoughts, but I was intrigued all the same.

“Yeah? I wonder if it’s the same one I’m thinking of…”

“Probably not!” Coriander chimed in, mouth full of gooey potato. She took one big gulp, then added, “there’s more than one person on Earth with the name Juniper. There’s at least, like, eleven people with that name. Probably.”

“Maybe more,” I agreed.

“Yeah, good point,” the waitress seemed to agree as well. “That was a little silly on my part. It’s like if someone were to talk about their good friend Dennis and me going ‘hey, I have a cousin named Dennis’, as if that isn’t a common name. I don’t have a cousin named Dennis, just so you know.”

“Cool. Lore,” I made a mental note. No Dennis. Got it. “What is your name, by the way? I’ve been calling you Seaweed in my head, but I feel like I ought to call you by your actual name.”

“Wow, I hate you,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m Demetria.”

“I mean, that’s close to Dennis, if you think about it,” I tried to ease the tension.

“Hm. I see your point. That, or I’ve stopped caring altogether.”

I shrugged in response, as if to say that I also couldn’t care less one way or the other. At least a mutual apathy could go a long way, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of relations. Now that we had a starting off point, I had to get down to brass tacks.

“Say, Lil D –” I began, before she interrupted me.

“Don’t call me that. And what?”

“I’m curious where your cousin Juniper lives. Think you could point me in the right direction?”

She seemed taken aback by the question. Understandable, really, but from how things have went so far, I knew she’d answer regardless.

“Look, I don’t know what your family’s like, but I’m not, like, close with my cousins. They’re distant relatives, why would I need to think about them? They only cross my mind when I think about how I have a gay cousin, but that’s it.”

Gay cousin. How interesting. Sounds a bit like the chipper and quite gay Juniper I knew, but then again, there could be other gay Junipers in the world. Then again, she could have more than one cousin. That seemed rather obvious.

“Why do you wanna know, anyway?” She peppered in that last question. It might have been the question I was waiting for, but now that she asked it, I wasn’t sure how to proceed.

My mind went through several avenues, most of which involved lying. My true objective was flimsy at best, as I was just going off of a hunch, and if nothing else, wanted a destination in mind for where to head.

“Tell me, Demetria,” my mind settled on deflection as the best method. “You’re a waitress for a diner in the middle of nowhere. What’s your story?” “Not really much to it,” she shrugged. “I just found this place and I work here.”

“Oh, come on, now. I can tell you’re not from around here, and no waitress in the middle of nowhere doesn’t have a tale to tell unless they’re from the area. You at least have to admit, this is a rather boring job, wouldn’t you say? Didn’t you ever have any goals in life?”

“I...err…” She started to tense up. Great. Sometimes conversations really did seem like a delicate process, like trying to crack open a safe. “My goals are far too complex. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

She looked around the room, then cleared her throat.

“Well, you see...I want to be swept up off my feet by a strong woman. Maybe body slammed, too. But not just any strong woman,” she looked around then lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Remora.”

I closed my and waved about my hands while giving off a rather smug smile.

“Say no more, say no more,” a certain Monty Python skit came to mind as I said those words. “I can relate. You see, there’s this lady named Juniper, and we go way back. You could say she was the one who got away. Now, your cousin may be some average June, but I’m willing to take my chances in order to see her again.”

That seemed to distress her, as she looked at Coriander, then back at me. Then back at Coriander.

“Aren’t...you two…?”

“Oh yeah. Totally. And I love her to death, but it’s more like, I want closure, y’know? It’s been years now, but every month of June, my heart aches, and I want to put this to rest.”

“...She’s got a wife, you know.”

My heart skipped a beat. I felt the hairs of my arms stand on end and little goosebumps formed. But this wasn’t a frightened shock, more of a “well, if this is the Juniper I’m familiar with, that’s wonderful news! I wonder who the lucky lady is” kind of shock.

“I recall something like that, actually!” I snapped my fingers. “She sent me an invitation to the wedding, but I never received it.”

“Weird. I figured you guys must not have talked for years or something,” she remarked.

“You’re right, though we talked briefly a couple years back, and she considered us still friends, I just wasn’t very good at getting back with her, and then I lost my phone, and haven’t had a new one since, so I can’t even be like ‘new phone, who this?’”

“That’s rough. I mean, not that I really know. I just cut ties with my only friend recently…”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she waved her hand aside. “I’ve never been all that good at the whole friends thing.”

“I consider us friends.”

“Stop. We just met.”

Well, it was worth a try. Now, back on topic.

“The invitation’s always open. If you need an ear, or a shoulder. The rest of me belongs to the one sitting next to me.”

‘Right, well, anyway, I don’t really know where she lives, so tough luck there. All’s I know is the city she lives in, and fat chance finding her in a big city like that.”

Oh, but my goal is the city itself, I thought, as if I were some evil genius.

“What city is that?”

“I’ll write it down for you, but I want something out of this too. I don’t work for free...well, actually I do, but I’d rather not think about that.”

Right. Disregarding that last bit, out of courtesy, there was the matter of a bargain. Squid pro quo, the like. At the least, I’d need to hear her out, even if I wasn’t going to be able to fulfill her request.

“What do you have in mind? I’d like to remind you we kind of don’t have anything right now.”

“Nah, that’s whatever. I just wanna know...how’d you end up with someone?”

I stifled back laughter. No disrespect intended, but I just wasn’t expecting something like that.

“Shit, I dunno. I just raided Area 51 one day and stole her along with a UFO.”

That explanation caused her to roll her eyes.

“Be serious. Tell me really.”

And that is why I usually don’t tell the truth. Stranger than fiction and all that bullshit.

“All right, you got me. We met at a state fair and bonded over…” C’mon, Velvet. Think, think. “Deep fried Doritos. She said something like, ‘I never met anyone as passionate about...doritos...as you’ or something like that, I’m hazy on the details.”

Coriander overheard and decided she wanted in on the elaborate ruse.

“Hey, I remember that day! I was pissed at you because you ran over my four foot possum’s tail with your dirt bike!”

“I swear, your possum’s tail was as long as a boa constrictor, no wonder it got ran over!” I retorted. Not gonna lie, I was having fun.

“That’s enough,” Demetria cut us both off short. “There’s no way I’m ever gonna be in a situation like that, so I think I’ll just stick to pining from afar.”

“Aw, keep your chin up. Those things can be unpredictable.”

“That’s for sure. Anyway, a deal’s a deal.” I watched as she took out a pen and flipped over her notepad. On a new sheet of paper, she jotted down the name of the city and tore the sheet off the notepad and handed it to me. Also at the bottom of the sheet was a price. In other words, the check.

I flipped through the stacks of cash gifted to me from tall, dark, and awkward and pulled out a few bills. After I handed them to Demetria, she left, and I turned my attention toward Coriander.

“Here’s our next destination,” I pointed to the name of the city on the sheet of paper.

“Yeah, but how are we going to get there?” She asked. Good question. Rather astute.

“There’s got to be an airport nearby. We just head there, and we’ll figure out the rest from there.”

“Okay, but where’s the airport?”

“Uhh…”

We wouldn’t have to wait long for our answer. Who approached us next was a slim man with a tuxedo and short, black hair. He strolled with careful strides, as if each step had a purpose. Before he uttered a word to either of us, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses, rubbed the lenses with a cloth, then put them on.

“Good afternoon, ladies. I hope your meal has been well. I am the owner, Ray Sunshine. Please let me know if you need anything.”

I waved my hand away.

“Yeah, Raymond? Can I call you Raymond? Look, this meal has been fab,” note: I haven’t even taken a bite of what I ordered. “But I’ve got a lot on my plate. Some bloke stole my rental car, and I was only renting it to get to the airport. Now, my body’s built pretty tough, I’ve eaten my spinach, but I’m hopeless without a GPS, so I’m a little unsure how I’m going to get to the airport now.”

He squinted at us, and then let out a soft chuckle.

“You guys can’t hustle me. Not only that, it’s unnecessary. There’s a hatch in the kitchen which leads to our basement. That’s where we brew all our ales. You’ll find a load of barrels down there. In the back of the basement, there’s a door which leads to a tunnel. You follow that tunnel all the way through and at the end of the tunnel is another flight of stairs is another hatch which leads to the airport.”

“Why do you have something like that in your basement?” I asked, though it was rather convenient. The whole thing reminded me of the set up I had when I lived underneath that university.

“Let’s say it’s come in handy when a few deals have gone sour.”

“I see. And you’re just gonna let us go through there. I mean, I appreciate it, but why?”

He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

“Maybe I’m feeling generous,” he walked away after that.

Soon after our meal, we got up and headed to the kitchen. Inside was a little kid stirring a big pot.

“Oh, didn’t expect to see any kids around here,” I remarked. The kid looked at me.

“No customers allowed! I’m making myself gumbo!”

An older woman, curly brown hair, tank top, and all muscle stood beside the kid.

“Now Tigershark, Ray said it was okay,” she told the kid.

“Oh, OK! But only because the penguin boss said so!”

Heh. Penguins.

“Name’s Sunny, by the way. Shame we didn’t get more of a chance to talk,” she extended her hand toward me. I shook it, then looked at her respectfully before letting go. Coriander did the same.

We opened the hatch and began our way down. I waved to Sunny and Tigershark before I reached the bottom.

“Next time I’ll try your gumbo!” I told Tigershark.

“And we should have an eating contest! Or wrestle!” Sunny’s excitement couldn’t be contained by words alone.

After our long trek through the tunnel, we arrived in the airport and bought a couple of donuts at one of the airport bakeries. Then, we took our flight to the city where Juniper lived. We didn’t know what we’d find there, but it was a start. While on the flight, I turned to Coriander.

“Well, here’s to our honeymoon,” I smiled and spoke as if those were words of reassurance.

“That was a honeymoon? Wait. What’s a honeymoon?” She asked me.

Before I could answer, she fell asleep.

Look, I was tired. It was a long day, we almost froze to death, I ate my weight in food, I’m pretty sure anyone would be tired. Make sense? Good. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s skip the boring details. We made it to the city, bought more donuts once there, met up with the Trent of this new timeline (he was just as plain as ever. He didn’t know who I was, which I thought was quite rude until I remembered the whole timelines thing. After I explained a bit, he asked if Velvet and I wanted to play D&D, but we really didn’t. So he gave us directions to where Juniper lived, along with someone else, think he said West or something. I dunno), then headed over to where this Juniper person lived.

Considering we met up with Trent, it was almost guaranteed that this was who we thought it was, which was good news for Velvet. I couldn’t care less, as long as there was food and a place to crash. But she was cute, so I guess that’s a good enough reason, too. However, when Velvet knocked on the door to this Juniper’s apartment, instead, a different familiar face opened the door.

“Verse?” Velvet asked. “What are you doing here?”

Yes. In front of us was the same familiar tall aloof woman with terrible posture (seriously, that hunched look couldn’t have been good for her back). Shoulder length strawberry blonde, round glasses. Yes, I know. It could’ve been like, alternate version. But…

“Guys? How did you get here?” She asked, her eyes wide, all astonished.

Once Velvet heard the confirmation she needed, she got all excited and started jumping up.

“We did it! We defeated The Flashbulb! You were right, which sucked, we couldn’t save our world, but I mean, we accomplished one impossible thing, and there’s a new timeline somewhere out there now. We didn’t just wanna stay there, all lonesome, so we decided to look for a timeline we weren’t already in. Y’know, to not kill ourselves or whatever. I know you wanted us to protect Juniper, but we couldn’t take her with us, as there was already a version of her here, and really, it was her idea not to come along, so please don’t be too mad at her.”

She stood, stunned. Most likely trying to take everything in.

“Well, that sure was long winded,” Verse remarked at last. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Aw, c’mon! We missed you! Is that any way to treat your friends?”

“No, but, how did you find me?”

“Oh, we met Trent and he told us Juniper lived here, so we’re surprised to find you instead. Not disappointed, though.”

I glanced behind Verse and there stood Juniper, near the door. Same old chipper pigtail self.

“Uh…” I tugged at Velvet’s sleeve.

“Oh! Juniper’s here too!” Velvet waved with utter excitement, then turned back to Verse. “So Verse, what happened to seeing your wife?”

In the background I could hear Juniper snicker.

“Guys…” Verse began, but Velvet didn’t give her much time. That, and she looked rather uncomfortable, so I wasn’t sure if she would have said anything else anyway.

“Yeah, I get it. Relationships can be tough. So lemme guess: things didn’t work out between you two, but Juniper took you in and let you crash at her place?”

“Guys…” This time she sounded annoyed and she spoke through grit teeth.

Velvet got silent and everyone else was silent. But that silence didn’t last, as Juniper broke into laughter.

“I don’t know what’s going on but this is too much!” She had her hands on her knees and couldn’t stop. We all turned our attention toward Juniper. Verse as well, and she balked.

“Babe! Can’t you explain for me?” She threw her hands down and her face got red.

“Babe?” Velvet and I asked in unison, the both of us confused as hell. Then I think it clicked for the both of us at the same time. “Ohhh…”

“No, no! It’s okay!” Juniper continued laughing, then teased. “Verse.”

Verse, or whatever her name was, hung her head low and walked back into the apartment in utter embarrassment. Then, Juniper walked over and welcomed us.

“Hey, come on, in! Why not?”

We walked inside and I plopped down on the sofa. Arms crossed, I already made myself at home. It was a humble little apartment, dimmed lights, blinds down. Very little in the way of decoration or furniture.

Our embarrassed old friend sat at a chair across from me, her hands in her face. Guess it must’ve been too much to take in at once.

“So I suppose I should give you two the rundown. My name’s not Verse, it’s Ves. Short for Vesuvius,” she told Velvet and I once she composed herself. “Juniper and I are, well, you know.”

“Damn, that sure explains why you were acting so funky when we met you,” Velvet remarked.

“Well, there were other reasons for back then, too...sorry about that.”

“Eh, don’t sweat it,” Velvet brushed it off.

“You can make it up to us by letting us crash at your guys’ place,” I butted in. “Otherwise, we gotta sleep out on the streets and are you sure you want that?”

“Um…” I could tell how hesitant about it was, I mean, we just barged right in and decided it was our city now. I get it.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m letting these people I just met stay with us!” Juniper remarked.

“You don’t have to,” Ves argued.

“Oh, no. We’re gonna. Now, who wants quiche?”

So it was decided, and even though I didn’t know what ‘keesh’ was, I still accepted. Hell, it was cool that we got to sleep on a couch. True couchsurfing at its best right there.

Once the night came to an end and the other couple went to bed, Velvet and I slept on each other on the couch. She remarked about the day as a whole before falling asleep.

“You know, this isn’t the worst possible outcome.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

[thedistantstorm]

Close Proximity

The Vanguard | Hurt/Comfort | Nightmares | Friendship | Grief & Mourning | Mid-Shadowkeep (no real spoilers)

"She's trying to practice what she preached," Ophiuchus informs him.

He understands. Moving on is hard.

-/

In the aftermath of the Cabal's assault on the Last City, the Vanguard made a conscious decision to set up a residence for themselves and as many of their fellow Guardians who wished to reside atop the Tower. As such, the Vanguard themselves currently entertained living quarters slightly offset from the rest of the Guardian housing.

It's both ideal and stifling. Never far to go for a few hours of blessed rest, but sometimes it was hard to check work at the door when it's all around, all the time, and the people with whom they spend arguably too much time with already are only separated by too-thin walls.

Tonight, Zavala does not mind the close proximity of his fireteam, though he enjoys his peace and quiet and solitude. Tonight, his sensitive hearing is able to pick up the beginnings of distress from his partner. Tonight, he is through Ikora's door before Ophiuchus can call upon him, not that the mostly silent Ghost would, until things escalated much further. Tonight, proximity is a blessing.

Ikora sleeps even less than Zavala. She always has, her unmatched intellect and the blessing of Light keeps her going. Or, at least, that's what people thought. Ikora, at her core, is an insomniac of the highest order. Sleep, rest, while she argues that it keeps her from work, the reality is that she cannot switch herself off for a few hours to recharge, no matter how much she tries to. And when she does, usually she finds herself in waking visions, puzzling things out in her unconscious mind.

Never, in all his lives, would he be vocal about her fragility. That is not his way. But she is a Warlock, and a cataclysm of a woman in a glass case.

And sometimes, glass breaks.

The last time he'd been in here was in the week after Cayde's death. She'd woke screaming and he'd let himself in. They had access to each other’s quarters for emergencies. She cried and cried and wouldn't let him touch her, console her, and he knew better, at that point, didn't try to speak. When she'd gathered her wits about her, she'd cast him out, uncaring for what she called pity in his eyes, and unwilling to help him shoulder his grief in a similar way.

She had been selfish, and he, though disappointed and hurting himself, understood. Empathy was never her strength. She excelled at holding a grudge, which was way he’s surprised to find the door accessible to him at all, exactly as it had been before.

She does not like to be touched, and in this state she is far more dangerous than she would be if she were awake. He hears what might be words cross her lips - quiet, restrained (in her mind's eye, he's sure she's screaming) - sees how her fists glow beneath the covers (she's feeling threatened), the way her legs make tiny, stilted jerks (she's running).

Her head shakes from side to side, as if trying to avoid what she's seeing. That much happens far faster, is indicative of her subconscious' torment.

He sits on the edge of her bed, carefully. "You're dreaming," He tells her, loud enough that it's not a whisper, but not the echoing boom that his voice can be when instructing others. "It's only a dream."

That does not work. He repeats it several times, but the sharp, staccato sounds she makes aren't indicative of someone being roused from sleep. Whatever she's dreaming will not release her from it's clutches.

Which means it can only be one person. There is only one thing that can rattle her so, these days.

And, like clockwork, she forces out his name in a pained, guttural utterance. 

"Cayde-"

"She's trying to practice what she preached," Ophiuchus says, a soft, matter-of-fact voice at his right shoulder, when she jerks again - as if to shield herself from something - but does not wake. "The effort is-"

Zavala nods. He understands. Moving on is hard. Taking that first step may seem harder than the journey itself. He has lost much, but she does not build relationships like he does. Her social circle is brittle and complicated.

"The Moon did not help. She's," Ophiuchus bobs up and down with a sigh, "Incredibly sensitive to the energies there. Cursed for being so gifted."

When she cries out again, it's not to be ignored. Zavala does not bother with yelling. Her mind is strong - that too, is a curse. She likely believes herself deserving of the torture. Knowing he may very well regret it, he places a hand on her shoulder and her entire body seizes.

He feels the crack of her latent ability, the icy creep of the Void, ready to consume, but it’s inhibited. She hesitates. Another storm-crash of their fallen third’s name falls from thin lips, raw and pained. The Void lingers, though. But she could blow the both of them into the Void for all he cares right now. He will not allow her to suffer alone.

“Wake up, Ikora,” He bids her, sliding his left hand hand against the pillow to cradle her head, the right to her left shoulder, pulling her upright.

She wakes like she’s come up from icy water for air, eyes rocketing open, jaw unhinged on a harsh gasp, body rigid in his hands.

Before he can get the first syllable out, even begin to tell her that it will be alright, she’s sagging forward, hands brought up to her chest like it hurts. He doesn’t catch her so much as she slumps against his chest and the way she holds back her sobs, forces herself to swallow them down hits him hard.

But when he locks his arms around her, more aptly pulling her into an embrace, that restraint crumbles into high-pitched breaths that crest and break against him, desperately seeking release.

Zavala tries not to act surprised, tries not to tense himself and give it away. This is a first. Ikora has, to his knowledge, never sought out comfort before. Not like this. Not with anyone.  The shock wears off quick though, burning into a deep-seated affection for this woman. They fight, they are flawed, they do the best they can. They might not see eye to eye on everything - or even much at all - but, they are family and will always be.

He draws her in closer and her arms come around his back, slim, elegant fingers clutching the back of his shirt for dear life.

“I tell them that it’s time we move on,” She says, voice shaking from emotion, hitching on a sob. “I’m trying,” Her voice dips low, desperate. “But-”

“I know,” Zavala agrees. She doesn’t have to push herself. “There was just something about him. Even if he drove me crazy.”

Ikora sighs through what might have been an amused breath, sniffling and pulling back. For his part, Zavala does not try to keep her caged in an embrace any longer than she’ll allow. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it feels like an entire lifetime. “I woke you, didn’t I?”

“I was up.” He rises from the side of her bed, not wishing to impose upon her personal space any more than he already has. “I apologize for letting myself i-”

She holds up a hand, drawing back the covers and slipping from the bed in her night clothes, heavy robes to hold back the chill of the cool air. “Thank you.” She looks down, and away. “Even if you might have-”

“I knew what I was walking into,” He says, not quite smiling but amused. It bleeds into his tone. “I could suppress most of it, I’d hope.”

“You should get some sleep.”

“You should, too.”

“That was… enough,” She says, softer. Smaller. Still shaken. Her golden eyes flick up to his own, aware that she’s hardly convincing.

“Do you still keep chamomile tea in here?” He asks, innocently enough.

Her brows furrow. “Yes, but I don’t really-” He shrugs, almost imperceptibly. He knows she doesn’t like chamomile. It’s a thinly concealed tactic. “I’ll probably just watch some nonsensical programming until I nod off,” She admits, though she’ll certainly not fall back asleep tonight, of that she seems convinced.

“Would you like company?”

It takes her a moment to decide, but Zavala’s patient in a way that does not make it seem like she’s being put on the spot. Eventually, she gestures for him to go ahead, so he removes his shoes in the hall and heads to the lounge. An agreement, in not as many words.

He’d made her a beautiful violet blanket for the Dawning, the first one after the War. A piece of comfort, something to curl up with that lasts longer than a single book or a canister of tea. Something fond warms him to find it draped over the chair she reads in, not perfectly folded.

Used.

“May I?”

She nods, and he settles at the far end of the couch. For the second time tonight, he’s surprised when she pulls the blanket off the chair and brings both it and the tiny remote with her. “May I?” She echoes, informing him, “The couch reclines, if you’d like to get comfortable.”

When he’s leaned back, not quite laying down but comfortable, a pillow is pushed against his side and he can feel the weight of her head resting upon it. She drapes the blanket over herself and curls up. His hand finds the middle of her back, rubbing in soothing, even circles.

The weight of his hand grows heavy, and after a while, his sluggish motions stop as he nods off. But Ikora’s been snoring quietly for a while yet, one hand clasped over his knee, the other barred against his leg beneath the pillow. For the rest of the night she doesn’t dream.

[kariachi]

Chapter 6!! Candidate time!

~~

Finally, finally, Beirith gave permission for the candidates to come and see her eggs, providing they were polite, K’vin stayed there with her, and nobody made themselves look like a snack.

You would never. You apologized to the first wherry you caught, for Faranth’s sake.

They don’t know that though.

But hey, she’d agreed to let them come and look- which was liable to turn into touching, as these things did- which was a milestone all itself.

Sixty-seven. There were sixty-seven candidates, carefully chosen- and oh had the searchriders in his family been busy finding enough viable mutants- stood at the mouth of the Hatching Cavern, staring at Beirith and the eggs. Not him, he always fell to the wayside with these things. The only people who acknowledged him out of the group were his sister and nephew, who waved and grinned when he waved back. The candidatemaster was speaking, laying out the rules in a calm, clear voice.

“Thank the queen and her rider, then you can carefully move among the eggs. Only approach the gold egg if the queen lets you. Any roughhousing and you’ll be removed and barred from the hatching.”

And probably die?

Exactly.

If you say so.

K’vin tried to be as unintimidating as possible, to offset Beirith for once, as the candidates approached one by one, each thanking them for the honor and bowing in turn before heading off into the eggs. It was a little surreal, the age range. There were people older than him walking around- mostly women aiming for the gold who were at least polite enough to act like they were interested in the other eggs as well- and children hardly young enough to apprentice in a craft. Shards and shells, he could hardly believe he’d ever been so small, nonetheless that they were letting anyone that small stand.

Incoming, Mine.

The warning reached him about three seconds before Lizbet collided with him, arms wrapping around his middle.

“Hi big brother.” Immediately the rest of the class was staring, and while under normal circumstances K’vin would’ve been fine hugging his sister, not in public and not when he was being presented as a figure of authority.

“Hey, no,” he said, prying her off and taking her by the shoulders, “when we’re on the Sands, I’m not your brother, I’m Junior Weyrman, understood?” Lizbet was visibly displeased, but this was something she was going to have to learn- that just because she was close to somebody didn’t mean there weren’t circumstances where she would have to treat them with the respect due to rank and position. Still, she was his sister, and he loved her, so when she nodded he let her go and mussed up her hair affectionately, throwing out a grin.

“Good luck, brat. I’m thinking blue.” Fighting not to smile, she blew him a raspberry and turned to bow to Beirith.

“Thank you for letting us see your eggs.” And then she was off, Beirith’s eyes whirling with a new hint of blue in her wake.

Be careful, she’s as bad as me.

I like you though.

Your taste is already in question, don’t make it worse.

It felt like it took ages just to get all the candidates through the line, and the milling took literally forever. As soon as he was able, K’vin climbed up to his spot at the base of Beirith’s neck, scratching at an itch he’d have to oil later as he watched the hopefuls below. Some went around trying to see and touch every egg, some seemed to move between them at random, some clustered around certain eggs they thought likely to contain certain ranks (normally bronzes for some reason, he’d have been happy with another blue for the family collection

But you got me.

Yes I did, and you’re a million times better.).

He just never stopped being caught by how young some of them were. Lizbet, she was only fourteen (though who was he to talk, he had been too). And Jeson had only just turned twelve. It was some relief to know the dragons didn’t usually rise or chase before their riders were ready, Gwyn was the youngest he had heard of, but still. Dragonriders weren’t any more exempt from poor decisions than anyone else, they just did them in tandem with their dragons.

He worried.

Then he realized he sounded like Gwyn and laughed, quietly so as not to disturb anyone but Beirith.

I think they want my daughter, she said, eyeing the older candidates who, yes, were inching their way towards her and her precious gold egg.

They won’t touch if you don’t let them, K’vin soothed, laying across her neck. If you aren’t comfortable, then don’t. He could feel wheels turning in her head as she eyed up the women, then looked out over the other candidates. What precisely she was thinking, he didn’t know, those thoughts not quite hidden, but certainly not on the surface for him to see with a glance. The only clue he got was when she reached out her neck, nearly toppling him, and plucked Jeson up by the back of his tunic.

“Hey!”

“Bei!”

Without heed for them, she dropped him between her forelegs, beside the gold egg, and then went for Lizbet. Once both were where she wanted them, she settled back down over clutch and egg, whirling red eyes daring anyone to question her.

For a moment, K’vin intended to jump down and keep an eye on the proceedings, but something- maybe Beirith, even he couldn’t tell- stopped him. This was private. Between candidate and egg.

After several minutes, the massive gold lifted her head and released her ‘captives’, who hesitated before darting away. They paused only long enough to bow before heading back to the rest of the class.

“If everyone is done,” Candidatemaster G’rul said as if nothing strange had just happened, “I think we still have time for your next lesson.” Nobody even groaned, that’s how much they’d apparently been thrown off. Still, each bowed respectfully on their way out to where G’rul’s green waited, and K’vin tried to maintain a calm demeanor for them.

You, he said as soon as they were gone, are biased.

I told you they were the ones allowed, she answered, pressing into his head the memory of that first day looking over the candidates. So, he couldn’t even call her a liar, the traitor.

You realize G’rul will come by wanting to talk to us later.

He will.

And Kelleye will want to talk to us immediately.

So Toyamilth says. He sighed.

You think they’ll Impress?

Of course, Fireth Searched them.

True. K’vin sighed again and climbed down her side, stroking her and going to settle in by the gold egg.

After that display, they damn well better.

[aion-rsa]

The First Mission: Impossible Still Has One of the Greatest Action Set Pieces

https://ift.tt/3vanI04

It was a rare thing even back then. Inside movie houses across America, the silence was so acute you could hear a popcorn kernel drop—never mind pens. That was because on the big beautiful cinema screen, Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt was performing what 25 years and six Mission: Impossible movies later may still be his greatest stunt. And there weren’t any motorcycles revving up, nor was there a plane taking off. All we needed was an actor dangling from a wire over a glass floor. If you looked closely, too, out of the corner of his eye there suddenly would be a single drop of perspiration, which if it hit the floor meant game over. Trust us, Tom, you weren’t the only one sweating bullets that day.

This crackerjack sequence is the centerpiece of Brian De Palma’s first Mission: Impossible, and it remains a marvel today: an exercise in tension and a showcase of the benefits that come from letting a true master of his craft handle a summer blockbuster. It certainly became the calling card for Tom Cruise’s burgeoning reinvention of himself in the 1990s as an Übermensch action hero, and perhaps more importantly a movie producer. Indeed, Mission: Impossible was the first film Cruise produced with Paula Wagner via his new production company. It’s not a coincidence, then, that is where Cruise’s new clout began allowing him to work with auteurs who could rarely say no to his demands that he do his own stunts, sometimes at 25,000 feet.

Of course that more extravagant derring-do came later. In 1996, Mission: Impossible was all about the crafting of a sleek and wonderfully knotty thriller that tied itself up in circles while delivering perfectly calibrated thrills. Even for all the script’s high pedigree, with talent like Steven Ziallian (Schindler’s List), Robert Towne (Chinatown), and David Koepp at the peak of his post-Jurassic Park glow working on the screenplay, this movie only ever wanted to be a basic framework on which to hang one De Palma showstopper after another.

And the payoff of that approach is never clearer than in the buildup and execution of “the vault” sequence in the original movie. Narratively, there’s some mumbo jumbo reason for Mission: Impossible suddenly turning into a heist movie: Ethan Hunt (Cruise) has been burned by the CIA after a frame job suggests he killed his own team to steal half of the NOC List—a data file that comprises every undercover American agent operating in Europe. But for reasons that are never exactly clear, the list is worthless without its other half, which is stored in the belly of the CIA beast at Langley.

To clear his name, Cruise is basically going to have to double down by actually stealing the other half of the NOC list. If you’re wondering why, you’re asking the wrong question. The entire appeal of the Mission: Impossible movies is how. And the how is a wonder to behold here.

Five years before Steven Soderbergh got credit for reinventing the heist genre with his Ocean’s 11 remake, many of the conventions were implemented by De Palma first: a voiceover narration by the protagonist, listing the obstacles and worst case scenarios his team is about to face? Check. The film then cross-cutting the actual mechanics of the heist with the team still discussing how they’ll pull it off? Yep. And an emphasis on a mark whose life they’re about to ruin? Just look at that poor bastard played by Rolf Saxon, a nine-to-five schmuck who after letting himself be momentarily distracted by Emmanuelle Béart (it happens) spends the rest of his screen time vomiting in trash cans and being banished to the North Pole by superiors.

It’s all here, but most of all there is an almost giddy embrace of filmmaking craft and tension-building. For most of his career, De Palma has chased the long shadow of Alfred Hitchcock and his masterful cinematic games of suspense. While this particular Mission: Impossible scene doesn’t dabble in doppelgangers and murder—two other De Palma motifs taken from Hitch that recur elsewhere in M:I—he nonetheless achieves one of his greatest suspense sequences inside the CIA vault, and it feels wholly original.

As Saxon’s CIA analyst struggles with repeated emergencies in the bathroom, Cruise is forced to dangle from an air vent over a CIA vault with such high security that in addition to the floor being pressure sensitive, he must keep as still as possible or risk his body raising the overall temperature in the room. Meanwhile if a sound louder than a whisper is made, the computer Ethan is hoping to hack will be shut down, and all the exits in the building will be locked.

So Cruise dangles from the air for a grueling nine minutes, floating with graceful, willowy precision in a cold, sterile vacuum. With a binary color scheme of white walls offset by Cruise’s tight black shirt and silvery gray gloves, the visual palette is as intentionally muted as the characters’ lips. There is no score, almost no dialogue, and each time the decibel counter on Ethan’s wrist rises, or the temperature in the room increases by a fraction of a degree, the audience gasps.

In the same summer movie season that gave us aliens blowing up the White House in Independence Day, and a tornado roaring like it’s a goddamn lion in Twister, the restraint and intelligence of this Mission: Impossible showstopper was shocking. It still is, as the commercial side of the industry continues to go the other way—to the point where the idea of a blockbuster starring scientists chasing a tornado seems downright highbrow.

Similarly, action spectacle has leaned with an ever heavier hand on computer generated nonsense. Perhaps it’s a key reason that the Mission: Impossible movies remain a generally celebrated breath of fresh air in the Hollywood tentpole landscape. Twenty-five years since the original movie’s release, Cruise is still doing these Ethan Hunt adventures, and narratively they’ve only gotten better, with the most recent two written and directed by Christopher McQuarrie being the best in the series. Their commitment to in-camera stunts and sophisticated action set pieces that put the focus on Cruise doing dazzling feats, however, feels even more vital now than then, as action sequences costing tens of millions of dollars, with digitized superhero sprites fighting hordes of animated robots, has come to dominate multiplexes more than ever before.

By contrast, Cruise’s memories about the difficulties of shooting the vault scene in 1996 are illuminating.

“I wasn’t really balanced that well [in the air],” Cruise said in a junket interview at the time. “So there were a few times where you hit the ground and you’re holding that position. It was exhausting. Brian was ready to finally say, ‘Okay, I’m going to have to divide this into two different shots.’” Today, it’d be worse: they’d say they could do it all on a computer. Yet it was Cruise’s idea (at least by how he tells it) to turn his body into a proverbial scale, and use British currency coins as his counterweights.

“I had them hook me up, hang me, put a couple of pounds in each shoe to balance myself, because I kept falling and smacking my head on the floor,” Cruise said. “I couldn’t balance it, physically. Finally, when we did it and I got the balance right… it worked, and Brian just left me hanging there just to get all of it. We had three different cameras going.”

Read more

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Cruise and his director ended up skipping lunch that day so they could get every shot they needed of Ethan hanging over the pressure sensitive floor, operating the computer terminal, and even catching that lonely bead of sweat. The insistence by the star and director to get it in camera, to the point where Cruise was carrying a few quid in each boot, was a rarity then and is nearly unheard of now.

Here’s to hoping that Cruise work ethic, which carried him from that vault to genuinely scaling the world’s largest building in Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol, never touches the floor.

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[syndianites]

The Consequences of Your Actions Chapter 6

Ship: Syndianite (Tom x S1 Dianite)

Summary: Vampire AU! Dianite has had many lovers over the years. Some were mere playthings, meant to pass the time. Others were passionate loves, a fire raging until their inevitable demise. Very few were of the immortal variety, most searching for a power grab, others enthralled by his image. One was different, one was special. And he’d be damned if he was going to let him slip away.

AN: Okay, I told myself there would be pain, Tom playing with his vampy powers, and Tucker? Gotta stay to that… gotta… stay to that. No tangents. Already thinking of some. Carp.

@theshadowlord @syndcates @maiatanfallan-arts @maiatan-fallan 

Chapter 6

The sun was creeping further into the alley, its path arcing to see into it. But Dianite couldn’t bring himself to move. His arms were cradling his young lover, the anxious look on his face complemented by the subtle shaking of his form. He wanted so badly to right the wrongs for him, to do anything to make him feel better. But all he could offer now was his comfort, arms wrapped around him and fingers threading through his hair. It was aggravating.

He contemplated trying a series of short ‘jumps’, (really, it was teleportation, but it was too wimpy to be considered such. But the very ability to move oneself in any way was beyond impressive.), to get them away from the sunlight and into the security of their home. But he wasn’t sure how well the nearby humans would take that. Two people just appearing from thin air.

Burying his face in Tom’s hair, he sighed. “You know we can’t stay here.” His lover pulled his head away with a grimace. “Well,” he started, eyes drifting to the side, “I can’t just let Alice stay like that.” His gaze hardened, jaw set. “She needs help.” Locking eyes with the god he fell into a whisper, “But I don’t know how to help her.”

The Lord set his head back against the wall. Tom couldn’t stay out here, especially if he had been through Shadow territory. If he was connecting the dots correctly, Alice has been corrupted. And if she was corrupted, Tom spending too much time near her could lead to harsh consequences. As much as he knew Tom loved his sister, he was afraid he would have to let her go sometime. Dianite wasn’t sure he wanted to see that happen so soon.

Setting a soft kiss on his forehead, willing the wrinkles forming there away, he tried to send a sense of calm to the fledgling. By the begrudging way his shoulders relaxed, it seemed to have worked to some degree. “How about this,” Dianite mumbled against his skin, “We’ll go home and sleep off the rest of this wretched day. Then when it comes time to rise once more, we’ll look into this disease filtering through the area. I’ll try my best to find the best way to cure it, even though our resources are limited. And you, you will do your best to stay in the building, preferably near me. But,” he broke off with a sigh, “If you really can’t stop your free spirit from wandering once more, please just take someone with you? If I’m not terribly caught up in work, I’d be more than happy to go with you.”

Tom stared up at his love, going slightly cross-eyed. “How do you know it’s a disease?” The fledgling himself had felt little effect of the strange essence that seemed to float in the air over there. He had assumed the very ground had become tainted, and that was pulling and twisting the people within it. But could it be a disease spreading? Dianite frowned for a moment, moving back to see his beloved clearer, “I don’t. Most of what I know comes from the information provided by our look outs. However, it is worrisome that they didn’t know that this was coming here, and that they haven’t reported in almost a week.” Biting his lip, he pondered what could have happened to them. Tony and Josh were rather capable, but who knows what the Shadows could have pulled on them? They did report some figures being more intelligent than others.

Looking down at the man in his arms, he resolutely decided one thing: The Shadows were not going to touch his beloved. Standing up, he began to drag his lover home.

~

He was not panicking. Oh no. Tucker was very calm, the textbook definition of it. Sure, maybe they had fucked up their schedule a bit, and it was later in the day then they had planned. Maybe sunset was much closer than they could afford, but surely, they would have enough sunlight to creep through without problem? It wasn’t like there would be anyone head hunting a group of fledglings who were caught as unaware as they were?

Marco, on the other hand, was freaking the fuck out. Not that Tucker was getting more freaked out by it. No, no, no. Just because Marco was good at keeping it together, didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to have his breakdowns. And if they offset the rest of the group a little, I totally didn’t affect Tucker. Now if Hannah stopped asking him if he was okay, they could be well off right now, much closer to their destination than they were.

They were just going from west to north, a rather easy six miles. Sure, it was a bitch to walk on foot, especially with the sun tauntingly burning through their clothes. But it could be worse. They could be hunted down by angry Easterners, who were ready to avenge the bf of their Lord. Oh wait.

Tucker discreetly snuck a glance behind him, hoping the brim of his hat hid his eyes from his companions. Barely half a mile back, he had noticed steps almost mirroring theirs. It was strange to think about, but his enhanced hearing picked up on patterns rather well. (It wasn’t overly unique, but most fledglings couldn’t harness this until quite a number of years post change, the overwhelming sensation of their overpowered senses masking the ability). Though there wasn’t any particularly long pattern, the repeated motions caught his hearing. He hoped the others hadn’t noticed.

As it was, they had made it roughly four and a half miles. At five, Jordan promised that he would have people set to escort them the rest of the way. If his group could make the last bit of distance, they would be in the clear. But it was evident by the antsy movements he could vaguely pick up that they might not have that long. And as they approached a rather long strip of shade, he was proven right.

The only warning he received was the sudden rush of one set of footsteps, followed by the rest. He barely managed to hiss out, “Run!” before he was tackled to the ground. Hannah, already pulling a younger vampire away at a dead sprint spared a sorrowful glance at him before disappearing around the corner, the rest of their group following. Though he considered fighting his captors, a quick sweep around those still gathered around him made him just give in.

Only one had pursued his ragtag group, and he told each exactly where to go. They would be fine, so long as the one person running after them didn’t catch any. As for him? Lord have mercy.

~

Tom was trying his best. He had patiently snuggled up against Dia, adding what he could to his work. His love was researching this shitty corruption for him, though he was sure it had some benefit to his general worries, and he was determined to be a good little fledgling for him.

But even in his general comfort with Dia right there, was just so bored. Reading was a pain, as sometimes the letters would play tricks on him, deciding to be something different than they were, or his head just hurt with the amount of words he had to process. Who knew someone could make such lengthy reports. (Granted, he had seen Dia’s, and the Lord was definitely not one for them). He shifted with a little grumble.

Glancing over the mess of paper before them, Tom finally consented to his need to be doing something. Turning to peck Dia’s cheek, he slid out of his grip, not missing the pout the Lord sent his way. With a chuckle, he set about finding Nade.

It was well into the night, and he wanted to check out the city in his new night vision he heard vampires had. (He hoped that wasn’t some bogus legend, and actually a thing. It was hard to tell in the building). Many of the Dianite following loved to enthrall him with stories of amazing powers they had, from the various forms of pyrokinesis, to the super speed and strength (in comparison to humans), to some more individual ones, like being able to turn into smoke, or being able to see long distances. Those powers were random at best, downright impossible to tell what you would get.

And, well, he had promised Nade that they could check out whatever bullshit powers he got. First, they would try to see what kind of pyrokinesis he got. (It seemed inevitable for one of Dianite’s fledglings to get something relating to it, even if it was the opposite, like for Nade). Then, they could see if he got anything cool and special. (Tom made his friend promise to help get used to the weird enhanced senses and strength and shit, he was born human after all).

So when Tom walked into the more personalized office area, one meant for special ops and related people, Nade looked eyes with him immediately. The man threw him a smile, and gave a nod to his partners, who mostly rolled their eyes at him. Skipping over to Tom, he excitedly queried, “Are we going to test your powers now?” The fledgling nodded, reverently leading the way to elevator. Selecting one of the basement floors, they happily conversed through the ride.

“It would be so cool if you got the weird as fuck anti heat power I got. Then we could be day lighters together!” Nade was very set on the idea of not being alone in the sun. While it sounded cool, Tom decided the ability to set people on fire would be more fun. The two stepped out on the B08 floor, one designated for training whatever the fuck your powers were. Specifically, the floor for testing unstable powers. (For the most part, the only difference was extra padding and less expensive material. There once was a vampire who accidentally let out a sonic wave they didn’t know they had the ability for. Many things had to be replaced that day).

Striding into one of the empty rooms, Nade announced, “The most important question is can you make fire?” He picked up a block of wood from the corner stash, grunting as he dropped it a few feet in front of Tom. “So how I was told to do fire was to focus on making things hot. Well, it didn’t really work for me, because of obvious reasons, but I’ve heard it works for most people!” Stepping away from the target, her gestured to it. “Try it.”

With a frown, Tom stared intently at it, imagining it on fire. Nothing. Grumbling, he tried imagining it getting hotter, before sparking into flames. Nada. With an aggravated sigh, he focused on each fiber feeling heat, before crumbling to it, fire erupting from the weakened wood. This continued for about five minutes when Nade waved it off. “It’ll probably take some getting used to. I’m sure Dianite can explain it better.” If he was worried about his lack of progress, he didn’t show it.

Clapping his hands together, he continued, “We probably should go over the basic features of being a vampire, but that’s boring. Instead, we can search for your special thing!” He was silent for a moment, before slowly telling him, “I guess the best way to think about it is this, let your mind be quiet. I know, that’s going to be hard. But let your mind be quiet and reach out. Go farther than your Sire bond, then any bond you feel with anyone. Feel for something just on the brink of your mind, something that you didn’t know was there. And, I don’t know, grab it I guess? Try to get a grip on it.”

Skeptically following Nade’s instructions, he tried to block out the sounds around him. HE was painfully aware of their slow heartbeats, the unnatural rhythm. With a deep breath, he tried to focus beyond them. Though he was aware of more sound, he found himself feeling something else. Closing his eyes he focused on it. Faint thoughts filtered into his mind, and he understood what he reached, his Dire bond.

Rolling his shoulders, he lingered a moment before moving on, a small twinge of discomfort as he left the bond behind. For a while, all he could perceive was his immediate surroundings, though they seemed distant now. But then he brushed against something else. It gave off an unnatural, new sensation. And he grabbed it.

~

The world around her was broken, the lights and darks clashing horribly. She couldn’t remember when someone had last visited. It was hard to remember who even. Was it her fiancé, back from his business trip early? Or had it been her brother, concerned with how she missed out on their lunch? Someone had been here, but she couldn’t recall who. Weren’t there more than one the last time? Maybe.

Thinking too much hurt. The contrasting world around her gave her a headache, the sounds an eerie lullaby to her tired mind. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was aware that this wasn’t a good thing. Sleeping now could prove fatal, but she was just… tired. The days had blurred together, and she didn’t think she had ate at all. Perhaps sleeping would be for the best.

Someone was screaming at her to stop, stop, stop. Her eyes drooped. A shadow leaned over her. It stroked her cheek, a low chuckle sounding from it. “It’s okay, you can sleep. I know your tired. It’ll be all better when you wake up later. You’ll feel better, promise.” The voice, a soothingly light tone, was so inviting, but the screaming was still there. Why wouldn’t it go away? The mystery voice, sounding of a woman, cooed at her. She let her eyes fall shut. A couple minutes wouldn’t hurt. How long would she really be out before she couldn’t help but get back up from hunger?

As she let herself fall into slumber, her heart wrenched at the sound of sobs, broken and desolate. They sounded so familiar, but why? Who was crying, why? She wanted to help, really, but how could she help in such a tired state? She vowed to help the crying person when she woke up. Hopefully they felt a little better by then. Hopefully, she would too.

Once she slipped off into dream world, she missed the shriek that fought to be heard by a persistent cackling from the figure. “Sleep tight,” it whispered, moving towards her, “You’ll need the energy for when I take you for a spin.”

(AN: not so subtle foreshadowing! Any guesses as to what Tom’s Super Special TM power is? :D hopefully its not cliché, and somewhat fits with the general Dianitee thing. Maybe. I was going to do one thing, but that was too Ianite, and I figured it be best to reign it in a little more. I promised some hurt, and kinda gave it? Some fluff slipped in. Ooops)