#they’re best if you delegate them to just being ��for fun” though

[ghostlycod]

oh won’t someone write an olderboyfriend!price x inexperienced!reader but reader’s not a virgin, she’s actually been with one guy before, but it was her asshole ex that treated her like shit and didn’t give a fuck about her during sex, never got her off, never even cared. treated her like she was nothing special at all, honestly kind of had to coerce her to get her to do anything for him by the end of their relationship, and that made her hate having sex so much she never really wanted to do it again— but then there’s olderboyfriend!price and he’s so hot and he’s patient and he’s kind but mostly he’s hot and he takes his time getting her to open up to him, teaching her pleasure with his fingers first, then his mouth, working her up and teasing her until she’s begging him to use his cock on her and fuck her the way a pretty girl like her deserved to be fucked the whole time.

he gives the best aftercare too (something her ex definitely never did). cuddles, soothing words, preparing a warm shower for her and laying his clothes out on the bed for her to wear after, making her favorite meal to eat, eating it as they lay together on the couch in his finely decorated apartment to watch one of the old shows he’s been dying to show her.

[notdoneintentionally-blog]

Atypical friendships: Lisa-Niragi

Notes:  Okay, remember that in Lisa’s game out of all the players she could’ve chosen to be the ONLY person who’d die after it ended, she chose a seven-year old kid. Tell me that’s not something Niragi would do. Also, creating a game where she’d have her own team of people to command? Also something I’d see Niragi doing. These two would be best friends fr. I’m tagging @niragi-of-bitches as Niragi so they can tell me how many I got right!

If you want to see the other parts of ‘atypical friendships’, look under this tag in my blog. So far, I’ve got Kuina-Kuzuryuu, Chishiya-Usagi, Ann-Aguni and Yaba-Mira. 

- If she’d been at the Beach the militants would’ve been 10 times scarier, because Aguni might have been able to control Last Boss and Niragi, but he sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to control Lisa. She’d do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

- More often than not, this means toying with people. This girl already knew who Arisu was BEFORE he appeared in her game, so you bet she knows absolutely every piece of gossip circulating the Beach, and uses it to break friendships and relationships alike just because she’s bored. 

-Niragi deeply admires her, but he would never say it out loud. The most he’d say is: ‘Your skill set is being wasted on these idiots. If you and I joined forces…’ And she’d reply: ‘Then my skillset would be wasted on another idiot’

-The pure definition of competitiveness. They always have to be one-upping each other. Remember the game where for every animal you killed you got a certain amount of points? They were LIVING it. Niragi ended up winning but Lisa was unphased. ‘I won by a twenty point margin’. ‘And with a gun! How cute of you’

-They’d tear up the dance floor at the Beach’s nightclub. The only day the residents of the Beach know peace are the days where they’re off in a game. The rest of the nights they’re the first to arrive and the last to leave, and there’s always an incident for which they’re directly to blame. Lisa will never let Niragi and Last Boss forget that she can pull more girls than both of them combined.

-Lisa taught Niragi how to do his eyeliner, after she did it on him one night while they were both drunk and Niragi decided it looked badass.

 -Even though they continually tease each other, they would NEVER underestimate the other. Lisa knows Niragi is actually pretty smart, and if they’re ever in a diamonds game together, she delegates the decision-making to him. If any other player makes a comment on how they think Niragi is wrong, Lisa immediately shuts them up with a fist to their face. She trusts Niragi’s skills enough to know he’ll find the solution. And he always does. 

-They would never judge each other. They know that, at their core, they want the same thing: freedom to do as they please. They both share that slight sadistic tinge, that desire to be above others and mess with them as they see fit (again, Lisa choosing THE KID AS THE ONLY PERSON WHO COULD DIE IN HER GAME). So, in a way, even if they’ve never said it out loud, they understand each other. 

-Imagine them spending lazy days together at the Beach, with Last Boss too. Lisa and Last Boss sparring while Niragi practices his aim with the rifle. Wolfing down the food at lunch and going to the pool to mess with whoever’s there over a few cocktails (Last Boss doesn’t like drinking, Lisa likes daiquiris, and Niragi claims he doesn’t drink ‘girly drinks’ and orders a Bloody Mary even as he enviously eyes Lisa’s daiquiri and takes a few sips when she isn’t looking). Lisa laughing her ass off every time Last Boss and Niragi are pulled out of the fun because they have yet another executive meeting to attend and she can continue lounging by the pool. Crazy nights they only ever end up remembering half of, blurry scenes of someone saying ‘Lisa’s on the first floor and she’s going to jump to the pool!’ And Niragi and Last Boss simultaneously yelling ‘DO A BACKFLIP’ (she does two and they’re howling and cheering the entire time). The three of them feeling like they’re unstoppable together, without knowing one of them holds a terrible secret.

-Unlike Kuzuryuu and Mira, Lisa would stay during the Ten of Hearts, helping with the massacre, and leave only after it’s finished. She’d wait at first, watching all the chaos spread, and then join in the fun. 

-Lisa runs to Last Boss but she’s unable to save him after the Ten of Hearts. However, she does manage to pull Niragi out of the Beach before the fire consumes him. She drops him somewhere safe before she has to leave with Mira and Kuzuryuu to prepare for the second stage.

-After Niragi wakes up alone somewhere far from the Beach, he can more or less piece in his head what happened to get him there. And after Mira shows she’s one of the game masters, he can guess where Lisa is too. It... affects him. It’s not something he simply shrugs off. 

-He doesn’t go to the Queen of Spades because he’s in no state to take out Lisa, and frankly, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t want to either. On the other hand, Lisa took into account that Niragi could decide to try out her game, and, well. That might’ve influenced her decision to make her game have teams. They could’ve been on the same side one last time, chasing down others like they were still at the Beach messing with people by the pool.

[nagirambles]

Do you have any idea what the guild would be like if Laxus became the next master (in the 100YQ)? For example, how would he manage the guild, or what would the atmosphere be like? He's a bit of a softie now, so I can see him having the same presence as Makarov while keeping a strict approach regarding the behavior of some members.

Laxus, hmm... I think he’d pretty much stay the same as the kind of quiet, broody cool guy in the corner of the room, who’s occasionally fawned over by several people. Occasionally he’d chime in a plea to not be stupid, he’d be perfectly capable of stopping whoever wants to be too reckless for their own good, etc.  So he’d be pretty much like Master Makarov is now, minus the goofing around. So I think the vibe of the guild would be similar, albeit now they turn to judgemental big bro Laxus when they’re in trouble instead of wise-talking gramps. They don’t get words of wisdom anymore, they just get disgusted looks of judgement as Laxus figures out how to help you. 

I think Laxus becoming the next guild master would be an amazing peak for his character arc. Surprising for how he was first introduced, he’s incredibly patient in GMG, allowing himself to steam in silent, unnoticed anger until the perfect opportunity arose--- and then, he went all out and blew Raven Tail to bits. His composure is what I’d consider ideal for a guild master, because he’s capable of choosing when to fight and when to hold back. He’s mature enough now to understand that. So he’d be the hallmark of a good master in that regard. 

Is he a softie, oh, he definitely is. I do think pre-GMG Laxus would be rather strict on the rules like how Erza would be, but at this point, Laxus feels like an enabler, at least to me. I can see him just going about with everyone and letting them do dumb stuff because... well... Wendy looked so eager when she suggested trygin to eat the hurricane, who was he to stop her? He’s always here to catch them when it gets too crazy though, so no big deal. (They will both nearly die, get windswept really bad, and end up walking home together all ragged and disheveled and they will answer absolutely no questions. Laxus is definitely not going to admit to being an idiot.) 

I’d like to think that paperwork is never handled. Makarov burns complaints after giving a speech, but Laxus isn’t the speech type-- he’s a man of a few words. He burns them as soon as he gets them, in front of the messenger, and dares them to give him more with the most deadpan look on his face. They cry each time. 

He throws any important paperwork, eg reports or letters of apology or meetings, to his self-proclaimed secretary, Freed. Freed is more than happy to handle it all for him, to the behest of literally everyone who thinks Laxus isn’t respecting them enough to show up personally. (Cue Freed going off on these people criticising Laxus)

In the same vein, Laxus delegates these minor jobs to everyone around him, so all he does is sit or stand near the bar (or somewhere out of sight on the second floor) like the broody edgelord he is. He prefers to be alone, not in solitude, but surrounded by the cacophony of the bar full of everyone he loves. 

Following up on Laxus not being the speech type. I’d think new members would consider him incredibly intimidating, unlike Makarov’s fun little grandpa image. That’d scare a lot of people from trying to join, at least until Cana puts a party hat on him and try his best to convince them he’s not scary. I think there was a scenario like this in 100yq? Sorry, I don’t remember it much. But basically, that gets ten times worse because Laxus has to actually approve of anyone joining which means they have to meet him. He gets slightly insecure about how scary he looks. Attempts to look harmless turn into shenanigans as the guild makes fun of him for it. 

Of the people in charge of making sure Fairy Tail’s scary reputation is cancelled out by good impressions, Bickslow is in charge of appealing to kids, Cana is in charge of making people comfortable by talking to them at the bar, and Mirajane has her Sorcerer’s photoshoot. (With Evergreen, because seriously, why is Ever not a model? It’s right up her alley and in line with her personality??) Lucy is in charge of the journalist side of things. Anyways they all do horrible jobs and FT’s reputation continues to get scarier. Oh well, most of them like it like this anyways, and Laxus just sighs longsufferingly. He gives up very quickly.

You know, this made me wonder about something. If every guild had a ‘next generation’ master, I wonder who they would be? I think Blue Pegasus would be Ichiya, but even further than that? Hibiki seems like the obvious choice... but I think Eve, the youngest and most ‘innocent’ in personality while being the tentative smartest/strongest (in lieu of being former Rune Knight) would be an interesting option. It seems obvious to pick the most prominent character like Lyon, or Bacchus, or Kagura for the other guilds... but what if someone less important/strong, but more responsible did it? Like... Yuka, for Lamia Scale? 

We could even have one joke one, for example, Sabertooth being too traumatized/stigmatized by the idea of a strong Master, so they have Frosch be the Master in name. Frosch would have ‘bodyguards’ or ‘secretaries’ accompany him to guild master meetings, so the guild would still be able to get the official proceedings through, they just have a catfrog as a Master and they all love the way this works. They all chip in to run the guild, without a real figurehead-- just held together by the power of Frosch’s cuteness. 

I think that’d be a fun idea. 

[absolutepokemontrash]

Could you do the dateables with a hyper literal mc? The ones with the brothers were so hilarious!

Yay! Let’s do this!

The Side Characters and an MC Who Takes Things Hyper-Literally

Diavolo

This human is… confusing. Diavolo had seen Mammon use a simple expression, a quite common one at that, why did the human look so concerned?

“Oi! MC! When I said get out of here, I didn’t mean actually leave!” “Oh haha whoops.”

He honestly finds it quite cute. Though, Dia is worried that one day MC will end up in trouble due to their complete inability to detect hyperbole.

“Diavolo, Belphie said his homework would take fifty years to finish… I uh… don’t think I’ll be able to get it done before the exchange program ends…” “MC no-”

Diavolo tries his best to explain, but when MC remains confused, he just sighs and tells them they don’t have to finish that particular assignment…

Barbatos

MC isn’t the weirdest thing Barbatos has ever had to deal with, but they’re up there.

Barbatos didn’t mind taking the extra time to explain things to MC if needed, he’s an expert in dealing with bullshit (tm) after all.

When MC kindly offered to help Barbatos with cooking and cleaning was when the problems started.

After explaining to MC that a “dash of salt” did not in fact mean, grab the salt and then sprint around the kitchen, Barbatos delegated MC to dishwashing duty.

Solomon

:)

“Time to mess with my fellow human being :D”

Poor MC, they’re in for a world of confusion… but also, success?

Many weird ingredients to potions have names that should be taken literally, and MC made for a perfect assistant!

“MC, can you hand me the baby’s breath?” “This bottle of misty stuff?” “No MC, baby’s breath is a flower-” “Nope, the bottle of misty stuff is exactly what I need.”

Thanks to MC, Solomon’s weird experiments take half as long to complete! That leaves so much more time for trying to get the other brothers to make pacts with him! :D

Simeon and Luke

Oh poor little lamb… the human is just so confused…

Now, Luke is a good Angel. He would NEVER purposefully tease MC. He needs to protect them from anyone who might try and tease them!

…Simeon on the other hand-

Sexy shoulder Angel lovingly teases MC as much as he can, but not too much. The real problem with MC’s inability to understand that not everything is literal is that Simeon can’t read them anything he’s written without needing to painstakingly explain every single metaphor.

That really takes the fun out of writing romantic poetry…

[ziskandra]

10. How do you decide what to write?

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

10. How do you decide what to write?

It's usually the AO3 matching algorithm that chooses for me, given that most of my fics have been for fanwork exchanges! 😌

A less tongue-in-cheek answer: when considering the pairings and tropes I'll offer for an exchange, I’ll usually look for one of the following: - inspiring requests for fandoms I've written recently - open-ended prompts that would fit with something I already wanted to write - old fandoms of mine I would enjoy reviewing (when I have enough time on my plate to do so)

Even when I’m not doing exchanges, most of my other fics have been created for some challenge or request or prompt. I usually just need something to spark an idea, and if the first little bit of fuel is provided by someone else, the creativity process feels a little less lonely.

Conversely, it’s very rare for me to spontaneously write a fic because I felt the desperate need to share a story! I recall only three periods of my life when this has happened: when I first discovered fanfic as a kid (so many weird HP AUs…), when Mass Effect: Andromeda came out and I finished the game in two days in some sort of fugue state (writing near 10k of Rydam fanfic in a week), and … now with the Meresino. Two cakes and all that, but I think there’s a part of me that’s uncomfortable with writing something unless I know it’s not been written before? And I can’t guarantee that unless it’s a very small pairing or very new lol. Much to think about!!

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

I don't really strongly disliked any tropes, but I never really understood the appeal of omegaverse until I read some excellent Ace Attorney ones that dug more into the gender roles and worldbuilding tropes of the genre — after I took that plunge with some trusted authors I was like oh I get it now. It’s still not something I seek out frequently, but I don’t automatically discount it now!

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

I know I’ve told you and others on twitter about this before but Meresino train controller AU. I have a lot of the characters’ respective roles planned out and a few different arcs I think it would be fun to explore.

Meredith is a train controller and Orsino is a signaller, of course. They both think the network would fall apart without them, and they’re right, but they also are yet to truly appreciate just how vital they are to each other’s roles.

Basically, train controllers have more responsibility when it comes to managing liability: making sure the signallers under their direction are given the information needed to do their jobs, and responding to emergency situations. BUT at the end of the day, it’s actually the signaller at the controls, and they need each other, even though they might hate each other times. … There’s a lot of tension, both sexual and otherwise!

(There’s even rumours that in other countries the signaller and train controller roles have been combined but Meredith’s just like ‘sounds fake but okay’)

Anyway, in terms of supporting characters, there’s Hawke, the beleaguered union organiser who used to work in the aviation industry. She’s dating Anders, who is doing a lot of grassroots organising around improving the transport system (and hence doesn't loop Hawke into his plans because he doesn't want to undermine the work she does in the union). Cullen is one of the department's current union delegates and is basically being punted back and forth by management and Hawke like a football. He is very out of his depth but by he is trying his best! Anyway, it's chaotic and everyone is trying so hard but they all have very different definitions of success, and what sacrifices they're willing to make to achieve it. And Kirkwall is a mess, like usual. Some days, the city's rail network is brought down by errant dragons. Some days, it's brought down by a nug nibbling through essential wiring.

Questions for Fic Writers

[elvish-sky]

The Grumpiness of Uncles Does Not Outweigh the Drunkenness of Nephews {Fíli x Tullaina}

A.N: Ok, so first of all I’m 15 (almost 16 though!) and I have no clue how alcohol or being drunk works. I also don’t know if cold water sobers you up but I decided for the purposes of this fic it didn’t! Also- I had a total blast writing this. Fili and Tullaina are one of my favorite couples, and I loved these prompts because I just got to have so much fun with them! I hope I wrote Tullaina okay, and I really hope you like this!

Requested by @guardianofrivendell for my 1K celebration: 💜 - 1 and 11 from the general prompt list with Fíli (can be x reader or an AU with Tullaina, whatever you prefer!) 1. "I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.” 11. "Did you know that you talk in your sleep?”

Summary: Fili gets rather drunk the night the elven delegation arrives. Shenanigans ensue.

Pairing: Fili x Tullaina, mentioned Thorin x Bilbo

Word Count: 1,318, because @guardianofrivendell picks the best prompts so I can’t resist writing longer stuff!

Warnings: Alcohol, Drunken Behavior

*****

The Grumpiness of Uncles Does Not Outweigh the Drunkenness of Nephews {Fíli x Tullaina}

“Fíli! What in Mahal’s name are you doing?”

Tullaina stood in the doorway of the best pub in Erebor, watching her fiancé- the prince of Erebor and heir to the throne- dance along the tabletops.

The issue wasn’t that he was a bad dancer. It wasn’t even the embarrassment this would cause him in the morning (he knew what would happen when he got drunk! It happened every single time). The issue was that, firstly, Fíli had a big meeting in the morning and would not do well hungover, and secondly, the elves were going to be arriving for said meeting any minute (Thorin had grumbled for hours about how Thranduil had “No respect for sleep,” and that “Some of us can’t stay up all night and then look fresh as daisies in the morning.”)

After the fiasco that had happened the last time the elves visited, which had involved Fíli, Kíli, several jugs of ale, and a game of catch, Thorin was determined to keep everything under control for this visit.

“TULLAINA!” Fíli exclaimed, jumping down from the table and drunkenly making his way over to her.

“I love you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Tullaina giggled for a moment, then shook her head and pushed him away. “Tell me that when you’re sober. Now c’mon. The elves should be here any moment.”

“ELVES! Where?” He crouched into a battle-stance and looked around warily.

Tullaina laughed, grabbing his arm and dragging him out the door. She rounded the corner of the pub, entering the alleyway behind it.

“Did you get it?”

“Yes,” said a figure, stepping forward out of the darkness.

“Kíli!!” Fíli greeted his brother with a wave. “Did you know I Love Tulls? I. Love. Tullaina.”

“Oh, wow. He really is drunk,” Kíli said.

Tullaina nodded. “Yup. Now let’s do this so that we can get to the gates and not have Thorin scold us.”

Kíli nodded, reaching down and grabbing a large bucket. Tullaina knew what was in it- ice cold water.

“Ready?”

Tullaina let go of Fíli and backed up. “Ready.”

Kíli hefted the bucket over his head, dumping all the cold water over his brother. Fíli starting shrieking as the cold water rained down over him, jumping and squirming and generally just not looking very pleased as his brother and fiancé both cackled while watching him.

Tullaina waited until Fíli had shaken most of the water off, then approached him. “You at least slightly clear-headed now?”

“Huh? Oh, Tullaina! Kíli, did you know I love Tulls?”

Kíli sighed. “Ok. That didn’t work at all.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Tullaina. “We need to figure this out.”

Kíli walked up to his brother, placing a hand on each of Fíli’s shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes.

“Fíli,” he began.

“Yes?”

“Yes, hi. It’s me. We’re about to go see Uncle Thorin and Uncle Bilbo, and we’re going to be greeting the elves. You need to act completely normal. Got it?”

Fíli nodded, suddenly looking very serious. “I’ve got it.”

Tullaina and Kíli let out simultaneous sighs of relief, each grabbing one of Fíli’s arms to frog-march him to the front gates.

As they walked, Fíli asked, “Do you think Thranduil will let me touch his ears?”

“No,” Kíli told him.

“Awwwww,” Fíli pouted. “But they’re so pointy. I want to touch them!!!!!”

The next morning, Tullaina sat on the window seat in her bedroom, watching F​​íli blink his eyes open in the spot he’d collapsed last night- spread eagle on her bed.

“Did you know that you talk in your sleep?” She asked.

“Tulls?” Fíli shot up to a sitting position, blinking his eyes in confusion.

“You collapsed in here last night because you were very drunk,” she told him. “Anyways, did you know talk in your sleep?”

Fíli looked wary. “I did not know that. May I ask what I said?”

Tullaina giggled. “Let’s see, there may have been a fully formed dream-plan to prank Thranduil’s son for revenge-”

“Did you write it down?”

“I- what?” Tullaina was confused by the sudden interruption.

“Tullaina. Focus. Did you write it down?”

She shook her head, and Fíli’s head sank back in disappointment.

“I remember it, though!”

Fíli’s head shot back up. “Great! We’ll discuss it later. What else did I say?”

“There was also a whole lot of grumbling about ‘the grumpiness of uncles,’ and how ‘ever since Uncle Thorin had married Bilbo he’d gotten supremely worse about manners.’”

Fíli groaned. “I hope I didn’t say anything like that in front of my Uncles!”

Tullaina smirked. “Well, you actually did a whole lot worse.”

Fíli shot out of bed. “What?! What did I do?!”

Tullaina sat back against her pillows with the air of someone who was taking entirely too much delight in telling someone else something.

“Well,” she began. “You started off an abysmal night by commenting on the pointiness of the Elven-Kings ears. In front of the whole elven delegation- and like ninety percent of Erebor.”

Fíli flopped back onto the bed in despair. “I really hate to ask, but… did I touch them?”

“Welllllllll, no.”

He sighed in relief.

“However, you did somehow manage to touch Legolas’s ears. And then Legolas caught a whiff of your breath and commented on how drunk you must have been. And then Thorin… well, let’s just say Thorin was not pleased. Especially not when you started yelling at Legolas.”

“What did I yell at Legolas about?” Fíli looked like he wanted to shrivel up and never be seen again.

The smirk on Tullaina’s face was growing. “You said, and I quote, “C’mon, Leggy!! Bros don’t rat out other bros for being drunk at a diplomatic thingy! And you! I thought you were a bro! How could you?”

“So that’s why I wanted revenge in my dream?” Fíli asked.

Tullaina nodded.

“It’s official,” Fíli declared. “I will never leave this room again.”

“I would say that was a good idea,” Tullaina said. “Except for the fact that as of right now, you are officially late to the ‘crisis management (the crisis being your behavior last night) meeting that Thorin scheduled for this morning. The one that all the elves will be attending.”

Fíli shot into the room where Thorin usually held all important meetings, skidding to a halt in shock as he saw the faces of the people inside.

It was everyone. All the elves, Thorin, Bilbo, even little Frodo! And- was that-

“Tullaina?”

Everyone in the room started laughing.

Fíli stood there in complete bewilderment. “What- what is happening?”

Thorin approached him. “Last night, when you were behaving so ridiculously, we figured out that if dwarven-elven relations could withstand that kind of diplomatic fiasco, we could withstand anything.”

Thranduil stepped forward. “Exactly. However, your Uncle still felt you deserved some punishment for last night. So, your all-too-willing fiancée stepped in.”

Tullaina gave Fíli a little wave.

“So- so I’m not in trouble?”

Thorin laughed. “No. We thought that the fact that everyone, until the end of time, will remember you asking to touch an elf’s ears was enough.”

Fíli was blushing like crazy.

“Fine,” he said. “But my retribution for this will be legendary! They shall mark this day as the day when Fíli, Prince of Erebor, came up with his greatest prank ever!” He spread his arms wide to punctuate the declaration.

And then promptly stopped, holding out his hand. “Now, c’mon, Tulls. I’m hungry. Let’s go to the kitchens.”

As the two left the room, Fíli turned around just long enough to yell one more thing.

“There will still be repercussions for this, never fear! There shall be RE-PER-CUSSIONS!”

The large double doors to the conference room slammed shut in their wake, and everyone in the room could hear them walking down the hallway on the other side, Tullaina giggling as she teased Fíli and him good-naturedly replying.

Everything tag: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny

Fíli tag: @laurfilijames @claraofthepen

[writingbeary]

Kingdom - To The World (pt.2)

Minyoung’s Outfit

Note:

Texts placed inside brackets are Kingdom’s show subtitles

Italicized texts are in English

Texts that are block quoted are interview cuts

────────── ♔ ──────────

Hongjoong went to the studio to gets ideas from Pirates of the Caribbean and writing down notes when a knock was heard. Pausing the movie, he stood up and unlocked the door to check who came.

"Joong-oppa! I brought you snacks and coffee. I figured you'd pull another all-nighter to brainstorm and a little sugar might help generate ideas." Minyoung entered with a paper bag full of snacks and a cup of coffee.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be resting by now? I thought you had a schedule tomorrow." Hongjoong frowned knowing how late it is, before taking the snacks thanking the younger girl for them before making himself comfortable on the couch.

"I accidentally left my script at the lockers this morning so I went to get it. I figured I’d drop by the studio and give you something while I'm at it. Don't worry, I'll get some sleep as soon as I get home and the shoot starts at 10 anyway so I'd get plenty of time before I have to leave tomo-.. later" Minyoung smiled plopping down next to Hongjoong

"Just try to get some rest soon. You're busiest among all of us with your drama on top of our promotions and Kingdom." Hongjoong reached out to pat Minyoung's head

"It's nothing I cannot handle! You know me, I can sleep whenever." Minyoung laughed as she look at the screen, recognizing the movie she turned to look at the leader excitedly “You’re watching Pirates? Are we continuing our Introduction Stage concept?” 

“I’m not yet sure but our group’s concept is mostly about pirates so we might as well stick with it.” Hongjoong shrugged taking a sip of coffee

“I always trust your decision oppa! Your ideas for songs and concepts have been all brilliant so far that I’ll follow you in whatever you plan on doing.” Minyoung declared making Hongjoong chuckle.

“I appreciate the confidence but I’ll also ask for your inputs once I talk it over with Eden-hyung” 

“Mhm. I’m just saying that if you tell me to do perform a stunt, I’ll do it. Or maybe even if you tell me to suddenly sing a ballad version of Fireworks or Pirate King, I’d do it in a heartbeat if you arrange it. You know what I mean?” Minyoung said seriously before laughing with Hongjoong. “I’m pretty sure the other members would tell you that too. That’s how much we trust you as our leader.”

“Got it. Thank you bun.” Hongjoong ruffled her hair smiling. “You should head back and get some rest. I’ll finish up here first before my meeting with Eden-hyung. I’ll see you during our meeting, okay? Did you come with manager-hyung?” 

“No. Don’t worry, I’ll just call a cab home. I’ll be fine, I’m already an adult. Geez! If it helps, I’ll send you a message once I’m at the dorms. Fighting oppa!” Minyoung pouted before waving goodbye to Hongjoong “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow!”

[What song did ATEEZ choose for their first round?]

“We just finished our practice and it’s almost 1:00AM” Hongjoong faced the camera as San and Wooyoung fiddle with the vitamins in the box with San being forcefully fed. “It’s good for your body.” Wooyoung chuckled as San looked at him in disbelief.

“We have to win first place after we eat this.” Hongjoong declared laughing

“Okay. First place? We can do it.” San nodded, trying to finish what’s in his mouth despite not liking the taste. “People say what’s good for your body, tastes bad.”

“Do each of these taste different?” Hongjoong asked as he force himself to swallow despite the bitter taste.

“Nope. They all taste the same.” Wooyoung laughed when Hongjoong confessed he might not be able to finish his before going off to get water.

“There is a reason why I made you guys eat this.” Hongjoong said as he took out his tablet showing them the division of the teams made in preparation for Round 1 of Kingdom. “So I need your ideas on what comes to mind when you think about pirates?”

San listed of things that first came into mind like guns, sword, and eye patch. Wooyoung adding in that they need the flags “We already have flags right?”

“But isn’t the ship the most important thing?” San asked as Hongjoong writes down all their ideas on the tablet for the KQ teams to check before their meeting tomorrow.

“Hey. Hey there. Park Seonghwa-ssi. Got any ideas?” Hongjoong called out to the him on the other side of the practice room. The three laughing when they noticed what is happening. Minyoung was clinging unto Seonghwa like a koala while the eldest just lets her do what she wants, patting her back repeatedly as if making her sleep.

Minyoung answered “Treasure! Pirates go sailing for treasure with their treasure map.” her sudden answer making the three in-front of the camera laugh.

“I thought you didn’t want to be in today?” San asked the girl who looked up at him from her position before shaking her head. “I’m comfortable here.” 

Seonghwa chuckled before answering Hongjoong’s previous question “Maybe like a compass, a trumpet, or a telescope.”

“You’re saying we should reuse what we used before? I like the idea.”

“Oppa, I don’t think we have the luxury not to use what we have.” Minyoung commented making the members crack up particularly with how she looked when she said it.

“Now that we’re discussing together, we’re getting lots of ideas.” Wooyoung noted as their concept grows clearer as they talk

Hongjoong looked at the growing list of ideas nodding “Yesterday, I watched all of Pirates of the Caribbean in the studio all night.”

“Did you get anything from it?” Wooyoung asked curious what they’ll adopt into their performance.

“I really want fog effects on the stage. You know how the ship appears with the fog? I really want to incorporate that to our performance.” Hongjoong explaining the scene to the members. Everyone agreeing that it’ll look great and cinematic which is perfect for the concept they’re going for.

The next day, the members sat around in their practice room to discuss the details of their performance with everyone. “Since our results for the Introduction Stage was a bit disappointing, we need to get ready for round one.” Hongjoong stated as everyone looked as determined as ever to rank higher this round. 

“Since we’re sticking with the concept of being pirates, it’ll be fun if we make it like a movie.” Wooyoung suggested

“Then Hongjoong-hyung will be Joongyi Depp.” Jongho quipped with Hongjoong playing along. “San will be a swordsman. San has to fight.”

“As for Wooyoung..” Hongjoong looked at Wooyoung trying to think of a role when Yunho suddenly said “Chef” making everyone laugh at the unexpected role.

“Oh! That’s true though. We all need to eat and someone has to be the chef.” Minyoung said through her giggles

“So when a war breaks out, he’ll be fighting with frying pans.” Hongjoong chuckled doing fighting motions as if he was holding pans in both his hands while Wooyoung just laughed in disbelief at the idea

“As for Yunho since he’s tall, he’ll be in charge of raising the anchor.” Yunho nodded before firing another remark “Seonghwa-hyung can be the parrot on the Captain’s shoulder!” At this everyone laughed imagining the it.

[Parrot Seonghwa, featuring Hongjoong’s shoulder]

“I’m..I’m not even a human?” Seonghwa asked laughing at the idea

“For Yeosang-hyung since he is smart, he can plan strategies.” Jongho continued on.

“What about me? What am I? Oh! I can be the doctor! I like Chopper!” Minyoung exclaimed making everyone crack up at the random remark.

“Okay that’s enough joking around. We can position ourselves and show something in terms of our gestures.” Hongjoong explained as the others nodded already thinking of what to do for the performance.

“We’re not ordinary pirates. It’s a contest in a way..so in order to look more fancy and grand, I think we need fantasy elements. For example, we can have the Kraken come out.” Yunho suggested

“So based on what we said so far, let’s scatter and talk to the professionals if these can actually come true.” Hongjoong nodded delegating tasks to everyone

[They split into the music team and the choreography team and continue the discussion.]

“The TF team was formed just for Kingdom.” Hongjoong explained to the camera while Minyoung and Jongho nodded. “All the members are scattered right now.”

"The reason we split up is because we cannot waste time. We still have our promotions on top of making preparations for Round 1. So I came here with Minyoung and Jongho to discuss the music" Hongjoong explained to their producer Eden

“Personally, I think of Jongho’s crazy high notes as one of our strengths.” Eden started glancing at Jongho as he explained his idea, then turning to look at Minyoung who looked at him curiously.

"I was thinking along the lines of showcasing our main weapon and the hidden weapon." Hongjoong continued as he tapped both of them on their shoulders

"Right. People already know about Jongho's strength but I think it's about time we unveil ATEEZ's hidden treasure. So I’m wondering if I should add 3 or 4 levels of pitch for the both of you and blast them away with that." Eden suggested with Hongjoong agreeing almost instantly when Eden declared “Nevermind. Let’s just go with four. Since we’re doing it anyway, we should go all out.”

Jongho shifted in his seat knowing there’s no backing out of this plan when Minyoung sat up and said in all seriousness along with a blank face "Ah. It is time for my death. You’re asking me to die” making everyone laugh at her antics.

Minyoung let out a sigh before smiling “Since my leader says so, I have to prepare myself thoroughly and execute it well. I'll do my best, at least enough not to drag Jongho down!"

"You'll do well bun." Hongjoong grinned already planning how to highlight the youngest two’s vocals for the performance.

[What did you mean by hidden treasure?]

"It's actually a bit of a shame for me to say this..but we haven't really had the chance to let Minyoung's vocals shine in our songs. Although, we've made her do the killing part of songs here and there but she is mostly highlighted for the dance. If I were to put it in figures... I guess you could say we were only able to show off 40% of her potential as a vocalist." Hongjoong smiled before continuing "You can definitely look forward to it."

[Are you feeling pressured for Round 1?]

"Of course! This time, I was given a very important role that could really make or break our performance. I'm nervous but I think the excitement overshadows that nervousness. I just want to show off what ATEEZ is capable of and give back to our fans who continues to support us." Minyoung answered with a confident smile

“Let’s not worry about anything else and make a movie out there.” Hongjoong looked at everyone as they gathered in for their group cheer before they head to the stage. All of ATEEZ nodding with a smile before they cheered “9 makes 1 king!”  

“Is that a ship?” Chan asked as he moved a bit closer to the monitor as the familiar sound effect was heard.

“Waah. That’s so ATEEZ.” Changbin nodded as the ship interior is shown before the music starts

“I guess their entire stage is set inside the pirate ship.” Q noted to the other members of THE BOYZ.

“Everyone has a story.” Eunkwang leaned in, anticipating the upcoming stage.

“I guess they’re going with the theme of Pirates of the Caribbean for this stage.” Jaeyoon noted finding the feeling of the opening similar to that of the movie.

“I guess he’s the Captain. That so cool! He wore a fur coat!” Bobby noted already absorbed in the performance.

“This is a movie. Totally a movie” Chan commented as the scene played and changed into Hongjoong’s opening rap.

“I asked Minyoung what they planned to do for this stage and all she told me is that I’ll understand when I see it. I can see why she didn’t tell me anything now.” Jisung chuckled as Minyoung’s part played after the opening rap.

“They really prepared a lot for this one. So cool. This arrangement is totally my style.” Eunkwang confessed watching the performance intently.

Everyone was surprised when Wooyoung danced together with the bone-breaking dancers but even more when the Kraken came into the screen. Out of everyone, Bobby was the most excited at seeing the creature. “It’s the Kraken!”

“That’s crazy. How did they come up with this idea?” Jisung exclaimed, letting out an astonished laugh

When Seonghwa sang the chorus, everyone’s mouth was hang wide open and cries of joy were heard from the groups as he fired at the creature killing it. The excitement from that scene has not yet faded when the camera changed and zoomed in on both Jongho and Minyoung on the platform as they sang the bridge as if answering one another. They were also unprepared for when both the youngest members of ATEEZ suddenly pulled off a 4-level high note, leaving most of them speechless.

Minhyuk gasped at how high the notes were while Changsub and Eunkwang clapped in admiration, knowing how hard it is to hit those notes.

“Just how high are they planning to go?” Sangyeon laughed in awe at how the two were able to hit the notes clearly.

Inseong chuckled in disbelief before saying “I can’t believe they’re going all out right now.”

Jisung not expecting the high notes let out a laugh, amazed at both of his friends as he clapped for them. “Wow.. Hold on.” Changbin managed to say shocked at what just happened

Chani laughed astonished particularly towards his friend, exclaiming “Park Minyoung! You’re crazy. From the highnote, now you do this?” when Minyoung took center position during dance booster of the last chorus before passing the focus to Seonghwa for the ending.

After the performance, the groups couldn’t help but compliment the group as they showed off and proven that the title monster performers wasn’t a title without reason.

“They’re awesome” Junhoe stated while Bobby who was still excited with the Kraken and the high note agreed nodding endlessly.

(Comments after the performance)

SF9 Inseong: I was really impressed with Jongho-ssi and Minyoungie. They both hit four high notes. SF9 Jaeyoon: Right. I knew Minyoung-ssi could sing well but I never knew she could do it this well. SF9 Chani: *proud smile* Minyoung pulled a huge surprise attack. 

THE BOYZ Juhaknyeon: I was really surprised when they sang the high notes. Really. 

THE BOYZ Hyunjae: Me too. I thought it was over, but they hit another high pitch. It’s a lot more difficult since there are two of them who did it. *laughs*

iKON Jinhwan: When their performance airs on TV, this will be a legendary performance for them.

Stray Kids Felix: The moment the Kraken came out.. *sound of awe* Stray Kids Changbin: I’ll go see it in person. *stands up* Stray Kids Chan: Yah.

THE BOYZ Sunwoo: They chose the performance they could do well and show who they are the best and executed to perfection. 

BTOB Eunkwang: There were no flaws. Even as another singer, I thought it was really cool. 

Stray Kids I.N: When they got off the pirate ship, everyone danced as a  group. That was very impressive for me.  Stray Kids Han: I loved the Kraken. How did they come up with the idea?  Stray Kids Chan: Wahh. Kraken. Really. That’s all I can think about. Stray Kids Han: No wonder Minyoung wouldn’t give me any hints on what they prepared. Seriously.

iKON Bobby: I was so nervous when Kraken showed up. They defeated it. He shot his gun at the end. iKON Jinhwan: You were so happy iKON Bobby: I was so overwhelmed with the grandeur. It was incredible.

ATEEZ finally done with the performance thanked everyone as they made their way backstage. Minyoung hugging Jongho with tears in her eyes saying “We did it. We really did it.”

“You did well.” Jongho returned the hug, patting the girl’s back lightly. He knows how hard Minyoung had to prepare and how high the pressure she felt for this performance. He was really proud of her and glad that they can finally show off her talents through the show.

“This is why people love Kingdom.” Hongjoong grinned at the camera when it focused on him, Seonghwa adding in “It feels liberating.”

“We all had this feeling. After the performance, we had such a good feeling. I was satisfied with that.” Hongjoong explained when asked what he thought of their performance

As soon as the group is back in their waiting room, everyone commented how it felt liberating after they finished the performance.

“When we finished our performance, I felt so proud of ourselves.” Hongjoong confessed as the other members let out a laugh

“Didn’t you choke up?” Seonghwa asked chuckling

“Do you know who cried after the performance?” Wooyoung grinned teasingly and moving his hands to point towards Minyoung who was still a bit teary-eyed.

“Yah. Let her be. She did extremely well.” Yeosang reached out towards his friend patting his arm

“Who says she didn’t? We all did well but you have to admit, Minyoung had a higher hurdle than any of us.” Wooyoung stated defending himself. “I’m proud of everyone but right now, I’m most proud of Minyoung.”

(Phonecall with Chani and Minyoung)

Minyoung: Hello? Chani: Youngie-ah! What’re you doing? Minyoung: I’m at the broadcast station for our album promotions. Why? Chani: Is ATEEZ preparing well for round one? Minyoung: Are you trying to spy on us right now? *laughs* We’re still not done since we have to promote our album well too. Then what about SF9, are you preparing well? Chani: *laughs* yah. We haven’t even started anything. Minyoung: Ahh. That means you’re almost half way done right? What song are you going to do? <Fanfare>? <RPM>? <Now or Never>? Chani: *surprised* Why are you asking- Minyoung: Oh! So It’s one of the songs I said *laughs* so which one is it? Chani: Why did I even bother to call you? *sighs, chuckling* Minyoung: *laughs* Alright alright. Let’s just see each other’s stages during the filming.

[As expected, these two friends know each other so well]

(During SF9′s Stage)

“I talked to Chani last week and he said they didn’t get to practice as much but every time he says that, it always ends up something incredible. I don’t really believe him anymore.” Minyoung told her members as she focused on the monitor.

“That’s also what you told Jisung when he asked, no?” Jongho laughed as the girl shrugged

“It must be <Now or Never> given how they’re describing the song” San concluded

As SF9 started their stage, everyone wondered about what concept they’re going to show for this performance. 

“Omo. That was a mirror? Are they going for Snow White?” Minyoung asked outloud making Hongjoong look at her laughing “Why Snow White?” 

 “I don’t know. They’re wearing red outfits and Snow White has the Witch with the mirror. Don't mind me." Minyoung shook her head realizing how far fetched the theory sounded.

“Oh, I got goosebumps!” Jongho confessed as the song’s overall atmosphere was changed into a darker tone than usual, highlighting SF9’s vocal and acting abilities.

"What is Chanhee doing? Did he suck blood or something? Omo. Are they vampires? Is that what's happening?" Minyoung fired continuously, Wooyoung who was getting distracted by her comments reached out to place a hand over her mouth. "Shh. Let me watch in peace."

"I know I shouldn't say this when their concept is far from it but Dawon-sunbaenim looks adorable." Minyoung commented, trying to stifle her giggle, as Dawon's part came with a mirror on his back. "..it's like he is pouting"

San still focused on the performance pointed to the monitors and said "I have no idea what is happening but this performance screams SF9. It shows off their mature characteristics. It’s all sexy."

“Oh he took his heart.” Hongjoong noted as the music cut off for a second transitioning to a group dance sequence.

“Omo. SF9-sunbaenim. This is really sexy.” Minyoung mumbled with Wooyoung glancing at her, as the opportunity to tease her presented itself again, saying “Are you falling in-love right now?” Minyoung became flustered shaking her head, lightly hitting his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“SF9-sunbaenim really showed off their acting skills. Their expressions were really on point.” Minyoung exclaimed clapping when the performance ended.

“I really got goosebumps throughout their stage. Wow.” Jongho agreed still in awe of how the performance went.

“But really..they know what the fans want. The fans love concepts that exude these charms and well, they have every capability and the confidence to pull off this concept. They’re all so cool.” Minyoung explained her thoughts from before as the other members nodded in agreement that SF9 does fit well with the concept.

“So are mature concepts are your style? Sexy?” Wooyoung continued to tease her while Minyoung blushed but kept quiet knowing that answering him would only fuel his teasing. 

While this was happening the members of the Minyoung protection squad, as fans would call Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Jongho, looked at each other with a silent agreement: make sure Minyoung doesn’t get too close with the rest of SF9 if they’re her type. If she’s going to be dating anyone then they have to get through at least the three of them before anything else.

All of the participants gathered inside the studio while waiting for the production staff to tally the results of Round 1 for both the expert’s evaluation and group evaluation. ATEEZ were seated beside iKON, a wish granted for the group as they all wanted to interact and get closer to their senior.

“Later..What time are you going?” Chanwoo asked Seonghwa who was seating beside him. 

“We’re probably going to go straight right after this finishes.” Seonghwa answered truthfully, Minyoung who also heard the question looked over, piping in “We still have a schedule around 8 today.”

Jinhwan nodded before asking “How many weeks has it been since the start of your comeback promotions?” at this the whole of ATEEZ had their full focus on iKON, a bit giddy for being able to talk with their idols.

Wooyoung immediately answering “The first week has ended so it’s the second week now.” to which Hongjoong adding in “We came back around the same time as sunbaenims.

“Ah but the choreography for Fireworks is really intense, how did you have the time and energy to do two performances together?” Jinhwan praised them, in awe and curious how they could manage to prepare for the round 1 stage while having to promote with such an intense song. ATEEZ laughed understanding what he meant but offering no comment.

“Were you the one who did the high notes?” Bobby asked Jongho beside him the latter nodding “Ah yes. I did it with Minyoung” motioning to the girl who bowed to the rapper. Bobby was smiling looking over the two vocalists when Jinhwan explained “Bobby said he became a fan.” 

“Ah. Thank you.” Minyoung surprised to hear the revelation bowed in thanks.

“Yeah really. Those high notes were just out of this world, more than the Kraken. For real..you’ll be first this time.” Bobby smiled as ATEEZ thanked them for the compliment.

Yunho taking in the opportunity to talk with iKON confessed that during their trainee period, everyone watched iKON’s performances and practiced their stages a lot. “That’s true. When we were trainees, during our monthly evaluations, everyone here did at least one iKON song for the test. We all did <Apology> and <Rhythm Ta> together.”

“That must have been tough.” Junhoe chuckled, thanking ATEEZ for liking their songs.

“How long has it been since your debut?” Bobby asked curiously

“We debuted in 2018.” Wooyoung answered

“Ah it has been a while. But it’s tough, isn’t it?” Bobby recalled his own experiences when they first debuted while ATEEZ just laughs awkwardly as they cannot deny that it does get tough. “When do you rest then?”

“When the promotion ends..” Jongho started trailing off, Hongjoong finishing the sentence for the maknae “When promotion ends, we get our breaks then.”

The continued to talk regarding promotions when Bobby suddenly asked them where their dorms are with Wooyoung readily describing the place making Bobby in particular excited as it is also near his residence. San invited him to visit the company sometime while Bobby agreed that he’ll drop by when he can.

“If there’s some time, it would be great to get a meal together.” DK suggested as all of ATEEZ agreed, excited at the idea.

“I’ll get your number sunbaenim.” Wooyoung shyly said making the rest of iKON chuckle and agree saying they should get each other’s contact number before they leave the studio today.

“I already have Minyoung’s number though?” Chanwoo confessed making his group members look at him in disbelief. “Yah. You didn’t tell us that though?” while ATEEZ looked at Minyoung who suddenly felt shy with all the attention she’s getting from both her members and iKON.

“We met through SF9′s Chani.” Chanwoo added in as the girl nodded.

“Ah but..we haven’t really talked after exchanging numbers.” Minyoung confessed shyly, wanting to hide herself or use Seonghwa as a shield. This information made both groups laugh, iKON acknowledging Chanwoo as a true insider for having celebrity friends outside of their company.

“That’s true. Sorry, let’s grab a meal together with Chani.” Chanwoo chuckled an apology. 

“Now we’re going to announce the results of Round 1 that you’re so curious about.” the MCs started while all the groups waited with bated breath. The atmosphere in the studio suddenly becoming tense as no one knew what criteria the experts used for their scores or who the experts were. They also didn’t know how the other groups voted. There were a lot of unknown factor in the show made it harder for the groups to anticipate the ranking for the round, particularly so since this is only 50% of their overall score.

Minyoung suddenly feeling nervous, held unto Wooyoung’s and Seonghwa’s hands, trying to get some comfort. She felt as if she’ll faint the longer it takes to announce the results. 

“Today’s first-place team will be given the authority to select the bracket for round two.” MC Changmin announced as all the groups gasp and commented that points aside, it’s a huge advantage to be able to do decide the bracket.

“I’m curious who the experts are.” Seonghwa wondered

As the MCs announced that all of the expert evaluation scores will be announce all at the same time, Minyoung closed her eyes tight mumbling “I cannot take this. Can you just tell me what the results are? I cannot watch. I’m too scared.”

“I’ll look for you.” Wooyoung patted the girls’ hand, giving it a light squeeze.

[What’s the result of the expert evaluation scores?]

As all of the members gasp, Minyoung who had her eyes closed asked scared “What is it?”

“Minyoung-ah, you can look.” Wooyoung let out a relieved sigh as ATEEZ placed first for the expert’s evaluation scores. At this, Minyoung peeked and immediately hugged the male in her joy. “I’m..reading it correctly right? We’re currently in first?” she asked as if in disbelief

“I’m actually relieved and glad that the things we wanted to do were actually conveyed properly.” Yunho confessed during the group interview.

As the results for the group evaluation were announced, Minyoung immediately hid behind Wooyoung scared that the rankings would change drastically.

[What will be the results of the teams’ evaluation?]

“ATEEZ you’re currently in first place. You wouldn’t want to step down. Do you think the others rooted for you?” the MC asked the group everyone nudged Jongho to answer for the team

“The eight of us finished our performance today without any regrets. Well...I’m not sure.” Jongho let out a laugh nervously as there really was no way to know how the other teams voted. Kingdom is still, after all, a competition. Everyone could have voted strategically to secure the points.

The MCs continued on with the show and as soon as the results were all announced, ATEEZ finally felt like they were able to breathe. They kept the number 1 spot even as the group evaluations were added in. Minyoung bit her lip trying not to cry as she felt the pressure lift off a bit. Seonghwa noticing it, rubbed circles on her back smiling at her. Minyoung turned to him and placed her head against his arm as she took deep breathes to calm herself down.

When asked how she felt during their interview “It just..It feels like our efforts were seen not only by the experts but also by the senior groups. We felt disappointed during the Introduction Stages so we steeled ourselves to do better and rise up the ranks but to actually be rewarded with the top spot just made me feel overwhelmed. It’s like hearing everyone say ‘good job today’ after a long day of hard work.”

“The past two weeks were really hard on us. All of the members has many moments when we were exhausted both physically and emotionally. One thing I can say confidently now that the results came out is that it was really hard, but we did our best. I think I can say that now.” Hongjoong concluded nodding

“We did well. ATEEZ is so lovely.” San adding in making the rest of the members smile, even Minyoung who was trying to fan her eyes with Jongho patting her back in comfort.

“Since we won first place, let’s take this energy and work hard to prepare for a great and fun performance.” Hongjoong declared before they did their team cheer “9 makes 1 team. Let’s do it!”

────────── ♔ ──────────

ATEEZ Minyoung Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. Any portrayal of real people is a combination based on what we could see on cameras and imagination of the author. This is purely fan fiction written for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner

I seriously wanted to cry when I had to rewrite this because the site ate my drafted one. I don’t think I was able to capture the initial feeling anymore and it definitely got a whole lot shorter after rewriting but I tried to at least..make it a bit decent.  Again, I have already drafted posts up to the Reborn stage but Kingdom “episodes” would be slowly posted to avoid spoilers for the people who haven’t watched it yet. 

Thank you and I hope you enjoy reading this!

-Mimi

15

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 19

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 19

Chapter Summary: Just a bunch of random fluff for the time being.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, and so much tooth rotting fluff.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13} {Chapter 14} {Chapter 15} {Chapter 16} {Chapter 17} {Chapter 18}

“Faye?” Henry called out, wandering into the living room where she was lounging on the couch with Kal.

“Yes?” Faye asked slowly, lifting her head from the fluffy canine’s side.

“Would you mind looking this over? Tell me if you’re ok with it?” Henry requested, handing her his phone to look over his newest Instagram post in the making, several pictures lined up and awaiting her approval.

First, was one of his signature boomer selfies, his face and chest covered in pony and princess stickers, glitter shimmering on the planes of his face, almost shining as bright as his smile. Second was a snapshot of his feet, nail polish globbed on the ends of his toes, Briar’s tiny hands in the frame adding more onto the top of his foot. Next was another selfie, his curls now tugged up into random tufts, secured with bright glittery hair ties, another amused smile on his face. Last was a small video clip of Briar painting makeup on his face, chatting away about the differences between unicorns and pegasus’, Henry asking at the very end if he was pretty yet, only for Briar to very definitively tell him ‘no’ and continue brushing over his face with more eyeshadow.

The post was captioned as:

“Girl Dad

#girldad

#glitterbomb

#amIprettynow?”

“That… that’s adorable.” Faye gushed, throwing her arms around his neck, his nervousness fading away. He had yet to introduce his fanbase to Briar. They had seen Faye a few times, different paparazzi photos surfacing of the two of them out together along with her accompanying him to the Witcher premiere. Neither of them minded Faye being photographed. She knew what she was signing up for, and Henry was always careful to only show her the good comments and headlines. The last thing he wanted was for her to be driven away thinking she wasn’t good enough again.

They had yet to reveal Briar’s presence, however. He had a Zoom interview later on in the week, and they had agreed that he could mention her if he was asked about family life. This was just him wanting to reveal his daughter on his own terms before people began trying to invade the child’s privacy. He could already see the feisty toddler chasing after someone with a camera, smacking them with her stuffed rabbit, Kal dutifully chasing after her.

Though, in retrospect, Kal may actually not chase after Briar to back her up. In the last couple of weeks, he had been by Faye’s side almost constantly. Not that he was jealous or anything, but he wasn’t exactly happy about now being Kal’s third favorite human. He’d raised that dog since he was ten weeks old, then Briar comes into his life and suddenly she’s the best thing ever. Now that Faye was pregnant, he split his time between curling up next to Faye and playing with Briar. The only time Henry spent with him was when he fed him, literally drug him out for a walk and at nighttime when he would lay on Faye’s legs all night. The poor dog was going to go crazy after the baby was born trying to split his time between everyone.

“So, is it ok to post?” Henry asked, shooing Kal from the couch so he could be closer to his fiancé. The dog was less than pleased to be uprooted form his spot, but relented and laid at her feet instead, huffing in annoyance as he laid his giant head on her tattooed foot.

“Well, nothing is showing her face, and I can tell you’re about to explode if you don’t tell the world about her soon.” Faye teased, gently kissing his stubbly cheek.

“I’m going to disable comments on it.” Henry explained, taking his phone back to finish the post and upload it to Instagram.

“Might be a good idea.” Faye agreed, peering over his shoulder as the images uploaded, hugging his thick arm to her chest. “I love you so much.”

“Aww. The baby’s making you all mushy.” Henry teased, dropping his phone onto the couch and wrapping his arms around her, kissing the crown of her head.

“Shut up.” Faye whined, leaning further into him, her face drawing into a pout.

“Please don’t cry, I was just teasing.” Henry requested softly.

“Sorry. Hormones are making me crazy.” Faye apologized, hiding her face in his chest.

“There’s no need to apologize.” Henry assured, squeezing her a little tighter.

“We’re going to have to tell Briar eventually.”

“We can’t just wait until the baby gets here and just be all ‘surprise! You’re a big sister!’?”

“No. She’s going to wonder why I’m getting so fat long before then. There will be questions. They might make me cry. Are you still going to love me when I’m huge?” Faye asked suspiciously.

“When you’re rounded out carrying my baby, tits full and just begging to be sucked on? I’m probably going to have a hard time keeping my hands off of you.”

“You can’t keep your hands to yourself now.” Faye teased, turning her head to look up at him.

“You aren’t wrong. I love feeling your skin on mine. In any way I can get it. Kissing you.” He whispered, gently kissing her neck. “Holding your hand.” He continued, tangling their fingers together as he nipped at her neck. “But best of all, I love being buried balls deep in that sweet little pussy of yours.”

“Bedroom. Now.” Faye hissed, Henry popping up with her in his arms, all to eager to carry her back to their bedroom, closing and locking the door before Kal had the chance to squeeze his way in.

~*~

“Just pull it off like a band aid, right?”

“Quick and easy and it’ll be over with.” Henry agreed, wrapping one large paw around her hip and pulling her closer.

“Briar, can you come here for a minute?” Faye called, resting a hand on his knee.

“Hi Mommy!” Briar greeted enthusiastically, practically tacking her mother as she launched herself into her lap, stuffed bunny still in tow.

“Hi.” Faye giggled, situating her daughter in her lap. “Briar, Mommy and Papa have something to tell you.” Faye started, Briar turning her wide innocent gaze up to her mother expectantly. “Henry?” Faye delegated, looking up at him.

“Princess, you’re a big sister. Mummy and Papa are having another baby.” Henry explained, Briar staring blankly up at him for what felt like an eternity, processing what he just said.

“Where?” She finally asked, Henry stifling a laugh at her innocent question.

“The baby is in Mommy’s tummy.” Faye told her, taking her daughter’s tiny hand and resting it on her stomach.

“You ate baby?!” Briar gasped, her eyes going wide as she frantically pulled up her mother’s shirt. “I get you out baby!” She yelled, poking at her mother’s navel, Henry unable to contain his laughter this time.

“The baby needs to stay in Mommy’s tummy until they’re ready to be born. They’re still too little.”

“How baby get there?” Briar asked, continuing to poke at her mother’s stomach curiously.

“Papa put the baby there so they can grow big and strong.”

“Big and strong like Papa!” Briar giggled.

“Yes, like Papa.” Faye laughed. “So, Mommy’s tummy is going to get bigger and bigger as the baby grows, just like when you were in my tummy.”

“I was in you belly?” Briar whispered in amazement. “Papa tummy get big too?”

“Yes, you were and no, I don’t see Papa getting a big tummy anytime soon.” Faye laughed.

“Nope, no tummy.” Briar confirmed after pulling up Henry’s t-shirt and taking in his still firm, furry abdomen.

“Thank you.” Henry chuckled, pushing his shirt back down and kissing the top of her head. “So, is that ok with you, princess? Would you like to be a big sister?”

“Yeah! I help with baby!” Briar squealed excitedly, hugging her stuffed bunny close to her chest and bouncing on her mother’s lap.

“Will you show Papa how to take care of a baby?” Henry asked, Briar nodding her head excitedly.

“Yeah! I show you!” She agreed.

“Ok, how do you hold the baby?” Henry asked, leaning down to look her in the eye.

“Like this!” Briar explained, cradling her stuffed rabbit in her arms.

“Ok, I think I can do that. How do you burp the baby?” Briar flipped the bunny up onto her shoulder, smacking it on the back and looking up at Henry to make sure he was paying attention. “Alright. What about feeding, how do you feed a baby?”

Without missing a beat, Briar pulled up her shirt and pressed the bunny’s face to her chest, Henry bursting out laughing along with Faye. “Very good, sweetheart.” Faye praised around a laugh, kissing the top of her daughter’s head. “Now why don’t you go play with Kal for a little bit?”

“Kal!” Briar called, hopping off her mother’s lap and running off to her room, the canine hot on her heels.

“I still don’t think I’m going to be very good at breastfeeding.” Henry lamented, Faye snickering and shaking her head.

“Yours are still bigger than mine.” Faye pointed out, playfully grabbing at his chest.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore.” Henry teased, resting one hand on the side of his chest she wasn’t groping and the other on Faye’s swollen breasts, pretending to contemplate as he shamelessly squeezed at her chest.

“You may have a point. The only bras that fit anymore are sports bras. I’m gonna need to buy more. Sports bras and swollen tits are not a fun combination right now.”

“You have my attention.” Henry purred, perking up at her declaration.

“Henry, I’m going to be getting ugly nursing bras, not sexy lingerie.”

“Why not both?”

“Really?”

“What? You’ve been pouncing me at least twice a day for the last week. How is me wanting to see my gorgeous pregnancy fiancé in something sexy out of line?”

“Ok, first of all, I haven’t been pouncing on you twice a day.” Faye started, Henry raising an amused eyebrow at her declaration. “I may have suggested we get closer a few more times than usual, but it’s not like I’m barging in while you’re busy to try and get some. I’m not some sex crazed maniac.”

“You barged in on me showering twice.”

“You do that to me all the time!”

“And I haven’t been able to complete a workout without you demanding I finish with a round of couples cardio.”

“Have you seen what you look like all sweaty with your muscles all pumped up? It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

“I also seem to remember you surprising me in the gaming room and riding me while I was on coms playing world of warcraft.”

“Ok, so like one slutty instance.” Faye scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“There was also that time last week when we went out for dinner. You had your hand shoved down my trousers before the driver even finished putting up the partition.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was bothering you so much.” Faye grouched, crossing her arms and scooting away from him.

“You’re not bothering me at all.” Henry laughed, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. “I’m just making a point. You can’t keep your hands off of me, and I’m loving every minute of it.”

“Wouldn’t mind your hands on me a little more.” Faye lamented, turning sideways on the couch and tossing her legs over his, leaning back to rest her head on the armrest.

“Are you hinting at something?” Henry asked, his fingers just barely skimming above the waistband of her leggings, a shiver following in their wake.

“Probably not what you’re thinking. My calves have been really tight lately. It would be great if my loving fiancé were to rub them down for me.”

“Are you sure that’s all you’re wanting?” Henry teased, his hands sliding down her legs to gently knead at her tense muscles.

“We’ll see.” Faye half yawned, already settling down for her usual mid-afternoon nap.  

~*~

“Faye.” Henry started out sternly, crossing his arms and raising a brow at his fiancé as she attempted to look innocently over her shoulder.

“Yes, my love?”

“What do you have there?”

“Nothing.”

“So, it’s not another cup of coffee that I’m smelling?” Henry challenged, crossing the room as Faye sat the cup down on the counter, spinning around to face him.

“But… the baby…”

“The baby is the exact reason you asked me to make sure you’re not drinking as much caffeine. Remember what the doctor suggested? Only one a day.” Henry scolded, gripping her hips to pull her closer.

“The baby wants coffee.” Faye whimpered, giving him her best puppy dog face.

“Then the baby will have to settle for decaf.”

“It’s not the same! Why are you being so mean?”

“I’m not. You told me not to let you drink more caffeine than you should, so I am.”

“Can’t you just leave me alone for two minutes? One extra every now and then is fine!” Faye growled.

“Of course I can leave you alone. I’m doing what you asked me to, so don’t yell at me.” Henry stated calmly, reaching past her to grab the pot from the coffee maker, dumping it out and taking it with him to his office, wincing at her irritated ranting. She had been very clear and adamant about him monitoring, and limiting her caffeine intake, especially coffee. Unfortunately, her most recent craving had been exactly what he had been told to keep her from. Why couldn’t she just crave normal things, like pickles and ice cream? No, she had to be obsessed with something she couldn’t have, and now she was extremely upset with him for doing exactly what she had asked him to do. He could almost feel more gray streaking through his hair.

He was just finishing up a phone call with a contractor when he could hear her again, this time strangled sobs and quiet sniffles meeting his ears rather than her ranting. He was up and out the door in a second, almost running into her when he found her loitering just outside the door.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Henry asked, holding her shoulders gently and leaning down to look at her more closely.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Faye apologized, looking up at him with red rimmed eyes.

“Faye, please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry, I just feel really bad. You’re just doing what I asked, and I started screaming at you!”

“Faye, darling, please calm down.” Henry soothed, pulling her closer and letting her cry into his chest. “I’m not mad, I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Faye, I’m not mad.” Henry insisted, kissing the top of her head. “There’s nothing to forgive. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Faye sniffled, wrapping her arms around his thick waist and squeezing him tight. “I’m sorry I was acting so crazy.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Henry repeated, rubbing her back softly. “The builders are going to be starting later on this week.”

“Really?” Faye sniffed, looking back up at him, Henry cupping her face and wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

“Yes. I told you we would get it done in time. It does mean we’ll have to watch Kal when he’s outside now, make sure he’s not getting into anything.”

“This doesn’t even feel real. I’m engaged to an amazing man, pregnant with his baby, living in a house with more than two rooms in it, and now we’re building a guest house out back.” Faye half laughed, reaching up to rest her hands on his wrists.

“Well, originally I wanted to move back to Jersey before we started expanding out family, but well… that didn’t happen. I don’t think moving out of a house we just moved into while you’re pregnant is a good idea, and we don’t have any family that lives close. Next best thing is building a guest house so family can stay without everyone being under each other’s feet.”

“Are you still wanting to move back to Jersey?”

“It would be wonderful if we could, but only if that’s also what you want. I just wanted us to be closer to family.”

“Maybe after I recover would be a good time. Kinda sucks that we’re building just to sell the house not long after.”

“We don’t have to sell it. Unless you’re not wanting to come back here at all.”

“Hen, you have to remember, I’m not the kind of person that owns multiple houses. I’m used to renting questioningly inhabitable apartments.”

“Never again.” Henry stated firmly. “Only the best for you from now on.”

~*~

Five minutes. They made it five minutes before being interrupted. Four minutes longer than he thought it would take. He gave Briar specific instructions not to come into his office until the door was open again. He never should have said anything. She normally never went into his office, finding the room ‘boring’ even after she put stickers all over the back of the door and window clings to the window. Now that he had told her not to come in, she was looking for reasons to do just that.

The interviewer had just asked him a question, and he opened his mouth to answer when he saw the door opening out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, Princess?” Henry sighed, smiling and turning his head to see her standing perfectly still in the doorway.

“Hi.” She whispered, quickly running over to him and throwing her arms around his leg. “I love you!”

“I love you too, Princess.” Henry replied quietly, gently removing her from his leg and shooing her off towards the door, “Papa’s busy right now, so you need to wait outside, ok?”

“Ok.” Briar agreed, sitting down in the open doorway and staring at him again.

“Can you close the door, please?”

“But I wanna see you.” Briar pouted, her face falling at his stern look, standing herself up and closing the door again. He could faintly hear her crying her way down the hall, his heart shattering at the sound.

“Sorry.” Henry apologized, shifting uncomfortably. He wanted nothing more than to go and apologize for pushing her away like that, but the interview wasn’t quite over yet.

“Was that your daughter?”

“Yes, it was.” Henry responded, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“When are we going to get a peek at your family? There have been rumors of you settling down.”

“Yes, I am settling down.” Henry agreed, “I have found the most wonderful, amazing woman. We don’t want the children to be drawn into everything, though. That’s a pretty big boundary for us.”

“Children? As in, more than one?”

“We do see more children in our future.” Henry skittered around the question. Faye had been adamant about waiting until they knew what they were having before announcing it to the world.

“Papa, I brought you something.” Briar’s small voice cut in, peeking her head around the cracked open door, holding up a sticker she had already peeled from its backing.

“Thank you, princess. Papa’s trying to work now.” Henry chastised softly, leaning down when she crossed the room to let her place the pony sticker on his cheek.

“Almost done?” Briar asked hopefully, batting her lashes at him.

“Almost. Why don’t you go get Kal’s leash on him? We’ll take him for a walk just as soon as I finish up here.”

“Ok, Papa!” Briar gasped excitedly, rushing out the open door again.

“That should give us about two minutes.” Henry laughed, turning his attention back to the screen. “I’m terribly sorry about all the interruptions. I would have come in person, but my fiancé isn’t feeling quite well, and I didn’t want to leave her.”

“It’s alright, I understand.” The interviewer assured, flipping through their notes again. “Last question, do you have any future projects in the works?”

“I have one movie that is in post right now, but I haven’t lined anything up right now for afterwards. I’m focusing more on family at the moment.”

“You’ve stated before that having a family was your dream. What’s it feel like to have it actually happening right now?”

“I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.”

Tags:  @weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay @packerfan43

[elen-aranel]

Golden/Alone

The Engineer’s Adventures

1-1 • 1-2 • 2 • 3 • 4

For: @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday. I am aware that today is Thursday; this was longer than I expected! Pairing: Captain Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: violence, references to violence, drug use (kind of), minor character death WC: 7.3k words Tag list: @jusvibbbin - to be added to my Pike x Reader Taglist please let me know <3 A/N: The Engineer is back! And why does she go on away missions? WHY? I genuinely had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy!

“If I were piloting, Number One, I would have flown us through the eye of that storm cell. We would have gotten here quicker,” Chris jokes to Number One as they unstrap themselves from the co-pilot and pilot’s seats, respectively.

“And that is precisely why I was flying and not you, Captain. We may have been slower, but I got us here in one piece.”

“Lieutenant, back me up here. My flying was great in that speeder on Eloma.”

“You kept us ahead of our pursuers, yes sir,” you say with a smile.

“And staying ahead of pursuers is not a valuable skill in an atmosphere like this one where we are not being pursued,” Number One states with some finality, as she presses the control to open the back of the shuttle and extend the ramp.

You are on Caylara, for what you hope will be a boring mission. The captain and Number One, along with security officer Ensign James, are here to open negotiations for Caylara to join the Federation.

You are here because of the atmosphere – it is notoriously difficult to traverse. You can’t transport living things through it, unless you want them to be merged, dead, or both, and even flying through it is a challenge because of the electrical storm layers. There are windows of time when it’s safer, when shuttles and communications can get through, and windows when they can’t.

At Louvier’s instruction you had prepared a shuttle (and a backup – you don’t like to take chances) to travel through the atmosphere. Standard procedure for Caylara was to have an engineer accompany the shuttle to perform any repairs needed on the ground. You had tried to argue your preparations were good enough that you wouldn’t be needed, but Chris had seen straight through you.

“You find diplomacy boring and you don’t want a repeat of Eloma. That’s what’s really going on here, isn’t it?” His mouth had twisted into that smile you found irresistible, and even though you pouted, adopting your best puppy-dog expression, he had just laughed. “It’s all right. I won’t make you go to the reception. I won’t even make you wear your dress uniform. You can stay with the shuttle.”

You hang back as the captain and Ensign James pass you, Chris brushing his hand against yours as he passes. You smile a little, and get your tricorder out – you need to check to make sure the shuttle didn’t get damaged and will be all right to make the return trip. You look down the ramp as you scan, seeing the Caylarans for the first time as their delegation greets the away team.

They are very tall. You estimate the shortest is well over two metres and they tower above the away team, even over Ensign James who is tall for a human. But given the slightly lower gravity of Caylara their height isn’t surprising, you think. They have skin varying from very pale through to olive toned. Their faces are smooth but they have scales around their hairline extending down to the rest of their bodies. Well, their hands, at least. They are wearing long robes.

Your tricorder beeps as the away team starts to move away; there seems to be a charge buildup in one of the EPS controllers, but that’s all and it’s an easy fix. You pop the relevant panel and discharge it, without shocking yourself for once, and replace the panel.

Then there’s nothing left to do but wait. The reception is due to last two, perhaps three hours – short enough that you’ll be able to make your return trip through the atmosphere with time to spare before the current window closes.

You’ve brought some reading, of course, but first you want to get to the bottom of why the EPS controller picked up a charge. You take it as a personal insult, really – you were sure you had accounted for everything from the data you were given to prepare. However, when you compare the preliminary data with the scans the shuttle took as it went through the atmosphere you can clearly see the discrepancies. You’re puzzled for a moment – but of course you had enhanced the sensors to the latest specs when you adapted the shuttle, and you don’t know how old the original readings you were working with were. You almost wish Chris had piloted you through the storm cell; then you would have more data to work with.

You busy yourself combining the shuttle’s readings with your existing model, and calculating how much it was off by. After some time you are pretty sure you’ve got to the bottom of where the charge came from, and you modify the shuttle so that it doesn’t happen again.

You also think you may be able to make predictions with your new model, and perhaps refine your timings for the atmospheric windows. The Caylarans know the timings pretty accurately, but you aren’t at the stage of sharing data on that level as yet.

You run a new set of scans, and frown – there’s only ninety minutes until the window closes. You compare with the original estimates and—

Hang on. When did it get so late? You were supposed to be on the way back by now.

“Shuttle Hubble to away team? Come in please?”

Silence.

“Shuttle Hubble to Captain Pike?”

More silence.

Silence when you try to call Number One and James, too.

“Enterprise to Hubble. Come in, please.”

“Shuttle Hubble here, Lieutenant Spock. I was just about to call you – I have lost contact with the rest of the away team. They should have been back here by now, but they aren’t.”

“I have also tried to contact the captain but to no avail. Three unknown craft have appeared in the system, and have locked weapons on to us and the planet. They are not responding to hails. I have placed the Enterprise on yellow alert and raised shields. We cannot get a sensor lock on individual life signs through the atmosphere, and—”

“They’re firing some sort of energy weapon!”

“Taking evasive action!”

“Lieutenant, I—” Spock sounds uncharacteristically strained as he’s interrupted by what sounds like an overloading console.

“I understand. I’ll look for them. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Enterprise out.”

That’s it, you think.

You’re on your own.

You take a deep breath: what do you need? Communicator. Tricorder. Emergency medkit.

Phaser.

You put the medkit in a backpack, and since there’s space you add a water bottle and some emergency rations. You clip the tricorder to a utility belt, and holster the phaser, set to stun. Your communicator goes in your pants pocket; you’ve got your usual tools in your jacket.

Then you remember your terrible luck with communicators, so you grab a spare and shove it in your backpack. That should do it. You can’t carry the kitchen sink and you don’t have time to keep second guessing yourself.

Okay. Plan: find the away team, bring them to safety.

You exit the shuttle and shut the ramp – you don’t need strangers damaging it.

You take in your surroundings next. The shuttle has landed in the grounds of a large building, elevated on a hill in the middle of a city. It’s only three or four storeys high, but quite wide, and you think it extends back a long way. There are decorative metal accents spaced at regular intervals – lightning conductors, you realise, as you head toward the most important looking doorway – you see burnt grass at their bases. This building isn’t tall, but it is the tallest around; the atmosphere must affect Caylaran architecture, you think.

There’s no one around, which surprises you; shouldn’t there be guards?

You push the door and it opens with a whisper. Inside is the most ornate room you have ever been in. The walls are gold coloured stone, there are dozens of columns in mottled golden marble, and there are decorations finished with real gold leaf everywhere. There are bronze statues and hundreds of warm coloured lights. The ceiling is as decorated as the walls, and the whole effect is beautiful. Imposing. Stunning. Overwhelming.

But again, no one is here. You get your tricorder out, but you can’t resolve anything. Perhaps something is blocking the scan? You look at the stairs. The steps are high, designed with Caylarans in mind, and go up before dividing. There are flights down, too. There are corridors to the left and right, and you have to take a moment to weigh all your options. The largest doors are ahead, though, up the main staircase and over. Perhaps that’s where you would take guests that you wanted to impress?

You think back to what you read on Caylara in your mission briefing as you climb the stairs. Their head of state is Crown Princess Nanren, but although the title remains the same, a princess many generations ago passed laws to end the hereditary monarchy. Now a new crown prince or princess is elected for life when the previous one dies, and you think they have an elected senate too.

Beyond that, you don’t really know anything, you think as you reach the top of the stairs. You cross the landing, trying to stay aware of your surroundings. And as you look down the stairs, you lock eyes with the first person you’ve seen.

A guard is sitting on the ground next to the doors. He’s armed, and the stairs in front of him show signs of having been fired on. But he’s slumped back, his green-blue swirled eyes staring up at you.

“Why’s it so dark? I can see you in the dark. Why did you bring the dark with you? You shouldn’t—” he tries to lift his weapon, and you draw your phaser, but his head lolls and he closes his eyes, dropping the weapon in front of him.

That was unsettling.

You proceed slowly down the stairs, but he doesn’t move again. You kick his weapon away and get your tricorder out. You’re not a medic, this isn’t a medical tricorder, and you don’t know much about Caylaran physiology, but you do have field medic training and you can see that something is terribly wrong. You scan him, and then the air. It seems like there are traces of a molecule around that your tricorder program flags up as having features in common with known hallucinogens. It didn’t flag up on your general scan so it’s probably dissipated enough that it won’t affect you, but still you wish you’d put on an EV suit. There’s no time to second guess yourself now, though.

You put the tricorder away in favour of the phaser, and you gently push the next door open.

If you thought the foyer was large, this room is even larger. It’s all gold again, and should be as beautiful, but it looks like there’s been a fight in here and furniture is in haphazard piles on the floor. It makes you think of playing forts with your cousins in your grandparents’ house as a child. You’re not a strategist but you can easily see that these piles aren’t much better than that – they provide barely any cover.

You pick your way over gilded chairs and past carved wooden tables inlaid with gold, keeping an eye out. About a quarter of the way into the room, under a table with two chairs on top you see a Caylaran. She looks young, wearing what looks like it could be a staff uniform – it’s a plain warm toned brown dress with an embroidered hem, far less fancy than the delegates who had welcomed the others of your team. She’s staring straight ahead, hugging her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. She pays you no attention as you kneel down by her.

“What’s your name?” You ask, softly.

“My name is Lararen and I’m going to kill the queen, going to kill the queen, going to kill the queen. My name is Lararen and I’m going to kill the queen, then the Genai are going to kill me.”

She smiles broadly as she finishes her little song, still staring vacantly straight ahead, and you shudder. You shake her shoulder and she blinks, slowly, but she doesn’t move.

You straighten up, thoughtfully, wondering what the Genai are. Some sort of bogeyman, or an alien race? Not that it matters.

Next you find a pair of guards, asleep, holding hands. You move their weapons out of sight and continue through.

But then you find a dead Caylaran. He looks like someone important, but his red robe embroidered with a golden floral patten has a scorch mark right in the middle of his chest. You’re not sure if that killed him, because there’s a pool of blood beneath him too. Either way, you think as you close his grey-purple eyes, he probably didn’t deserve whatever it was. You take a moment to pay your respects before moving on.

You don’t find any more dead bodies in this room, but you find several more Caylarans, either sleeping or talking nonsense. One male asks you where your flowers are, and tries to give you some from a fallen flower arrangement, but most of the rest are just scared.

You think they probably have good cause, as you push another door open. You pick it because the largest number of guards were close to it, so you figure it probably leads somewhere important.

It leads on to a stair well, small but lavishly decorated with tapestries, depicting Caylarans standing in outdoor scenes, sometimes with animals you don’t recognise. They deaden the sound of your footsteps as you climb the tall stone stairs.

Then two things happen: you pause as you notice one of the hangings is moving a little at the bottom, as though in a breeze. And then you hear voices above you.

“She’s not up here,” says a female voice, annoyed. Lucid.

“Well she’s definitely not down there.” The second voice is male. Defensive. “I’ve got a message from Alara. She wants us to look again.”

“Fine. But I want it noted for the record that this is a waste of time,” the first voice says, sounding suddenly quieter – she’s probably passed through a doorway.

“Like anyone cares, Nerela,” the second voice says. You risk a peek up the stairwell. You don’t get a good look as the second person disappears through the door, but they are definitely not Caylaran – he has blue skin.

You lean against a tapestry. There are aliens here, separate from your away team. There are aliens in orbit, too. The odds are good that they’re the same species. And “she” must be the crown princess. But what are they planning?

Regardless, you still need to find your people. It’s been half an hour; you could get back to the shuttle faster if you went straight there, but there isn’t much time left in this window.

You eye the tapestry again. You’re definitely not going to follow the aliens, and this breeze must be coming from somewhere. You push it aside.

This door is the first plain thing you’ve seen in the building. It stands slightly ajar – hence the breeze – and it’s painted beige to match the stonework, but otherwise it’s featureless. It swings as quietly as all the other doors when you push it, but it has some kind of bolt on the other side. Interesting. You try to work it, but you can’t. You think of the tools in your jacket; you could probably figure it out, but no. There’s no time. You push the door to, making sure it’s as shut as it can be, and continue.

You must have entered the service part of the building, you think, as you walk along a corridor. This is functional and plain, like the door. You feel a little more comfortable here; if you’d been interested in fancy, you would have joined the command track. Or Diplomatic Corps. You get your tricorder out again, but it doesn’t show you anything still and you didn’t expect it to. But then you approach a door, and hear whimpering from the other side.

You have your hand on your phaser as you push the door open. It’s dark compared to the rest of the building; there is a small window but there’s not much light coming through the Caylaran atmosphere right now. You take a moment to let your eyes adjust, then head toward the whimpering.

The room is small; some kind of office, perhaps? There’s a desk in the room, and behind it—

“Number One?” She’s crying. Number One is sitting on the floor crying, hair a mess, dress uniform dirty, cradling Ensign James in her lap.

You can barely believe it, but you squat down, reaching for your tricorder. You can see James breathing, at least. You look around, but Chris isn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Number One?” You scan them both. They both have traces of the drug in their systems, but a lot less than the guard you scanned earlier. As your eyes adjust you can see though that James has hit his head; there’s blood in his hair and on Una’s uniform. He’s also been hit by a energy discharge, but to the side.

“Una? What’s wrong?”

“I failed everyone. I didn’t protect my captain. What first officer doesn’t protect her captain? They’re going to throw me in the brig. They’re going to court martial me. I lost my captain, and he’s dead, I—”

Suddenly you’ve had enough. You slap her, hard. “Number One!”

“Lieutenant! What did you just—”

“Oh my goodness! I’m sorry, I—you—” You breathe. “Are you all right?” You strip your backpack off for your medkit. You’re going to need to try to bring Ensign James round.

“I—I’m not sure. I don’t know what happened; everything was normal and then suddenly it wasn’t. I was so scared, Lieutenant. It was—I can still feel it. But it doesn’t feel like me.” She shakes her head, eyes still a little wide, and you pass her the water bottle. She takes a drink as you inject Ensign James with a hypospray. He starts stirring immediately, which is good, but you still think he needs a proper exam to rule out any brain problems.

“Una, you’ve got fifteen minutes to get back to the shuttle with Ensign James. There are alien ships attacking the Enterprise, and I’ve seen aliens here too. I think they may be called the Genai. You go down the corridor, down the stairs, through the big room, through the foyer, and out. Do you think you can do that?”

“Back to the shuttle. Genai.” She shakes her head again, blinking a few times. She squares her shoulders. “Yes, I think so. I can. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find the captain. You can tell the computer to run on autopilot, if you need to – I updated the climate model, so the computer should be able to handle it.”

Together you help Ensign James to his feet.

“Do you have your communicator still?”

“I don’t,” James is still groggy as he pats himself down.

“I do,” Number One brings her communicator out and opens it. “Number One to Enterprise, come in please.”

Static.

“I think there’s a blocking field throughout this building. The tricorder isn’t working for some things either. You’d better get going.”

“Good luck, Lieutenant.”

“Thanks. You too, Commander.”

You put your medkit away as Number One and James leave. You’re relieved that they’re both okay, and you’re confident in Una, now she recognises her fear isn’t hers.

Back in the corridor you check the door to make sure Una shut it. You push it, but it’s locked. Weird. You could probably unlock it, but you don’t want to go that way anyway.

You turn your back on the door and continue along the corridor. Number One had said the captain – had said Chris – was dead. But he can’t be. She wasn’t, and you think she only had blood from Ensign James on her uniform. But... what if he is?

If he is, you do your duty as a Starfleet officer first. Find his body. Survive. Get out of here. Then mourn him second.

You pass three locked doors on the corridor, but the last opens to more stairs. Still functional, but just going down this time. You go down, listening, hand on you phaser.

Back on the ground floor – you think, but it could be a mezzanine level – there are several rooms that are open.

You go into the first one, hand still on your phaser. It’s a bedroom, and there’s a Caylaran male cowering in the corner, wearing the service uniform.

“Have you come to end it?” He asks, staring past you. You don’t answer, but your heart aches; you think he means his life. The next room is empty, bed neatly made up.

You listen at the door to the third room, and you think you hear breathing. You push the door open slowly. You don’t see anyone at first, but as you head into the room you see the edge of a gold robe, protruding out of what must the en-suite. You think you’re getting a feel for Caylaran fashion, and this is easily the fanciest thing you’ve seen so far. The robe is made of gold fabric, whereas all the others you’ve seen have been colours embroidered with gold. This one has gold and silver embroidery, and multicoloured gemstones picking out the centres of the flowers.

“Crown Princess Nanren?” Your pitch your voice low. Gentle. You remember how Chris spoke to you on Earth in the past, when you were panicking, and try to convey that calm, that confidence, to her. And in that moment you know you can no longer focus on looking for him. If this is the crown princess, more hinges on you looking after her.

“Crown Princess? I’m a Lieutenant from the Enterprise. From Starfleet – the Federation. I’m not a dream or a nightmare. I’m here to help. Will you come out?”

“The Genai are here. They’re going to kill me. I—I can’t—”

“We will find somewhere you can call your people. I will look after you. We will call in your people and they will deal with the Genai.” General Order One doesn’t apply here, you think. Not if the Genai are already interfering. Not that you care about diplomacy anyway. You’ll do what’s right now, and face the consequences later.

“I don’t—Why aren’t they here already?”

“I don’t know, Crown Princess. But we will figure it out. Please trust me.” You put all your belief into your tone, all the hope you still have left... and she steps forward.

She looks every bit the princess. She is tall, even compared to the other Caylara you’ve seen, and her dress is as exquisite as you expected from the tiny part you’d seen. You wonder, briefly, how many she has like that and how many months, perhaps years, it took to sew. She has a gauzy golden cloak hanging behind her, also embroidered, and her dark hair is braided and pinned up into an elaborate style. The only things that are not Princess-like about her are her purple-blue swirled eyes. They are wide, and anxious.

You recall your briefing notes, and bow. “Princess,” you say, staring at the floor.

“Arise,” she replies, and there’s the ghost of a command tone there. Good.

You straighten, looking up at her again, and pause. This is not how you dress if you might need to make a run for it.

You exhale, surveying the room. It’s a bedroom – a staff bedroom.

“Princess, I can get you out of this, I think. But first... you need to change.”

You find staff robes in the wardrobe that fit her, even if they’re a touch short. And sensible shoes. You have to sit her on the bed to take her hair down, but, you reflect with a little smile that she can’t see, taking her pins out is not unlike taking tiny components out of a circuit board.

“You get used to it, you know,” she says as she stands after you’ve finished. “The pomp and ceremony. The robes. People expect it of their princess, and you get used to it.”

“They are lovely,” you say, following her gaze to where her robes are hung up. “But we should get moving. Where can we call your people?”

“That sort of thing is in the wing on the other side of the Room of State,” she says. Right. The other side of that big room. Of course. And there’s a locked door between you and it.

Even so you retrace your steps. She’s much faster up the stairs than you, and you think bad thoughts about differing alien physiologies. But then, she would find the chairs on the Enterprise a bit small, you think. And the beds.

Soon you’re on the corridor with the door at the end, and you finger your jacket’s zipper as you get closer – it’s time for you to brush off your lock-picking skills. You hope the lock is easy like the ones on Eloma.

But the princess pushes the door and it opens with a whisper.

You can’t say anything. But you thank your lucky stars for small favours.

“Let me,” you say, as you approach the bottom of the stairwell. “If anything happens, go back the way we came.” You look the princess in the eye and she nods.

You crack the door open the tiniest bit, and you hear a voice.

You turn back to the princess, reach out and take her hand. You know it isn’t protocol but you squeeze gently, feeling the scales on her skin and a ring round her finger, hoping the touch will keep her calm.

You push the door open again.

“—everywhere. Yes. Me personally. I don’t care what you—yes I know scanners aren’t working. I wish you hadn’t got voice comms back. But she’s not here; she must be on your floor. Fine, Nerela. She could be in the south wing. No don’t come down here, you idiot. Go round. Ugh. Put Yaima on. Yes tell Nerela she’s being a pain. No, they’re still with our vessel, so she can’t be in the garden. It’s the storm cycle; of course we can’t—To the East, yes. I’ll see you there. But tell Nerela she’s done after this. No I don’t care. Alara out.”

You hear footsteps stalking down the room, getting closer. Your heart is in your mouth, one hand on your phaser, as you hold your breath. The steps falter slightly... and then they continue. You stay frozen until you can’t hear them anymore, then you give it a minute after that before you move the door.

The Room of State has changed since you saw it last; almost all the furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room, apart from a chair cushion in the middle of the floor; that’s what made Alara miss her step.

You take a step forward, and the princess follows, still holding your hand. She gasps, and you follow her gaze; at the end of the room are rows of Caylarans, lying on the floor. You look around, but the coast seems clear. You take your tricorder out one-handed, and you scan them. From here you can pick out their life signs – they may be unconscious but they’re still alive.

“They’re okay. They aren’t dead. Probably stunned with an energy weapon.” You feel the princess relax, and you drop her hand. “We can take care of them later. You need to show me where to go.”

She nods, and you follow her across the room and through the door on the other side. You have time to check on the way across: Number One and James aren’t there. Neither is the captain.

The stairwell on the other side is like the first, except this has paintings rather than tapestries, and your footsteps are louder as you climb.

“I don’t know who any of them are,” the princess says, looking at the paintings on your way up. “I suppose I should, but... they’re not my ancestors, I suppose. Just... predecessors. In a way.”

You resist the impulse to shush her.

On this stairwell a painting opens to the service corridor. You take the lead going through, but the corridor is empty. And when the princess shuts the door, you hear its lock click.

You walk along the corridor, listening carefully, but you can’t hear any signs of life. You have to hustle to keep up with the princess, but you push a couple of doors as you pass them. They’re both locked.

The stairs down at the other end of the corridor carry on further than they do on the other side, and your calves are beginning to ache when you reach the bottom. Your discomfort doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. It’s cooler down here, and you think you must be underground. Some kind of bunker.

“My real office is in my suite. My ceremonial office is downstairs, but this”—she opens the second door you reach—“is for emergencies.”

The office is dark as you go in, but she presses a control and it lights up. You close the door behind you and look around. Unlike the other rooms off the service corridors, this one is lavish once again. The wallpaper has gilded highlights, and the desk is made of a golden brown hardwood and is intricately carved. There’s no window since you’re underground, but the light fittings are made of bronze and remind you of the statues in the foyer. You realise the room is probably this nice in case the princess needs to do an emergency broadcast – her surroundings will still look the part.

The princess sits at the desk, pressing her palm to a sensor. A computer apparatus lifts up, and she enters some commands. You walk round the desk and stand a little way to her side, as a Caylaran man appears on the screen. His expression is blank, confused.

“Is this some kind of joke? At such a time? Using Princess Nanren’s—wait—”

He frowns, tips his head to one side.

“Your highness, is—is that you? The Genai—we were sure they’d killed you. That’s what they said. And the blocking field is on so we couldn’t scan—we had no idea—I—” He closes his eyes and bows his head.

“I am so sorry, your highness. I didn’t want to risk your people on a dangerous mission with no intelligence if you were already dead. But I should have trusted in you, and not believed the Genai without proof.”

Staff robe or not, Crown Princess Nanren straightens up and looks every bit the princess once again.

“Arise. Guard Leader Daymen, I am glad to see you. Please do not apologise; the time for analysing our decisions and learning from this situation is not yet here. First I must survive, and you must take back the palace. The Genai are still here; they have a vessel in the garden and people throughout the palace. Our people have been drugged; most are in the Room of State, but there are likely others dispersed through the palace.”

“They have three vessels in orbit too, I think,” you say, quietly.

“They have vessels in orbit too, although”—she presses a control, and a little data window appears—“they won’t be able to send any reinforcements through the atmosphere for a few more hours. What do you need to retake the building?”

“I will bring my guards now, highness. If you could turn the blocking field off it would make things safer, but—no. You are the most important. Enact the safe-room protocol, and remain where you are until we secure the building.”

“I may be able to lower the blocking field. But I shall keep safe. Do you have any news of our Federation guests?”

“Their shuttle left before the window closed. I was unable to talk to their ship at that time, but...” his expression goes thoughtful. “We use a limited range of communication frequencies. The Genai in orbit could have blocked them.”

You nod to yourself; the Caylaran frequencies had been in your briefing, and they were very different to Federation ones. The blocking field in the Palace was wide-band, but it would take too much power for a block like that over a bigger area. Much more sensible to just block the Caylaran frequencies.

“Thank you. May the skies protect you, Guard Leader.”

“May the skies protect you, highness.” He bows once again and cuts the connection.

“Lieutenant, thank you for all you have done for me so far. May I ask this last favour?”

“To take down the field? Of course, your highness. What do I need to do?”

She slides a ring off her finger and hands it to you. It’s a very narrow band of gold with a small red stone set on it. It’s big for you, though, so you slip it on to your thumb.

“You can use that to gain access to the systems. The security office is down the corridor to the right.”

“Lock the door behind me, your highness.” You smile as you turn to go.

“May the skies protect you, Lieutenant.”

“And you too.” You go through the door, closing it behind you. You hear a loud thunk a moment after you do; it sounds like more than a lock – probably blast doors. At least she’s safe, you think. Even if that means you’re alone.

You wonder about Chris, and where he could be. You have to hold on to hope, don’t you? You can’t think... no. You mustn’t. Instead you think about what he would do in your place. You think he’d be cautious. You’re nearly at your goal, but if you don’t succeed people could get hurt if the Caylaran Guard can’t tell who is who, or where they are. You’ve heard people complain about security officers being trigger happy; you think it’s probably the same for the Guard.

And you’re in a strategically important part of the palace; you don’t know how many Genai there are but they’ll probably find this area eventually. You draw your phaser, and make sure you walk quietly.

There is only one door left between you and where the corridor splits, when you hear a voice. The door opens a little, and you freeze. The voice is familiar – one of the Genai.

“—last time, no. I genuinely, and I am completely sincere on this, do not care what Alara thinks. Not even a tiny little bit! She missed this entire section! Yeah whatever, Yaima, you go tell her what I said. But when I find the Queen—Crown Princess, whatever, and she doesn’t, she’s the one that’ll get fired, not me! Nerela out!”

The door slams open, and Nerela stomps out. It’s her or you, but you are ready and she is not. Her black eyes widen as she sees you, and her weapon is in hand, but before she can aim you shoot. She grunts as she falls back, stunned.

Happily, Genai are shorter than Caylarans, although Nerela is wearing high heeled boots which make her look taller. You drag her back into the room she came out of, take her weapon and communicator and leave her lying in the recovery position. You shut the door behind you and it clicks a second later.

You shake your head; the doors are one mystery too many. You put Nerela’s weapon in your phaser holster, and tuck her communicator into your belt. Then you head to the right, toward the security office.

The first thing you notice as you push the door open are the screens. Dozens of them. The second—

“Chris?” He’s frowning, pointing a phaser at you. He looks at you like he can’t believe his eyes. Like you’ve stepped out of a nightmare.

“Chris it’s me. I’m real. I’m really here.” You take a careful step through the doorway, keeping eye contact with his bloodshot blue eyes, letting the door close behind you.

“You don’t need to be afraid any more.” You think about what Number One had said. “This fear... it isn’t really you.” You stoop down and put your phaser on the floor. You take Nerela’s weapon and put that on the floor too. And as you do, something clicks into place in your mind.

“Chris, you’ve been helping me, haven’t you? Locking doors to keep me safe? To help me get where I needed to go?”

“I’ve been so... afraid. I—I needed to keep her—to keep you safe.” He relaxes his grip on his phaser a little, and you reach for your tricorder.

“You were drugged, Chris.” You scan him. “Number One and James are safe, they got a lower dose than you.” A much lower dose, you realise, looking at the numbers. “I sent them back to the shuttle and they returned to the Enterprise. I’m going to end all this, get us home. But I need you to stop pointing that phaser at me.”

He looks at his hand, holding the phaser, then back at you.

“But is she—are you real?”

Your heart melts for him. You haven’t said these words, but you’ve felt it for a while. And—you worried, you genuinely worried, that you would never get to say them. This may not be the moment you planned, but he has to believe you.

“Chris, I love you. I’m real.”

“I—” he drops the phaser, and it clatters to the floor. The next thing you know you’re in front of him, arms around him, holding him. You can’t think; you can speak. You just hold on, letting your body feel his warmth, his solidity. You may not have been drugged, but you had been so afraid

. After a moment he puts his arms around you, too, and you just stay there for a moment more. Holding him. Letting him hold you.

As much as you’d like to forget everything else right now, you still have a job to do. You pull back, take hold of his hand, and look at the security console. You can see feeds of the Room of State, the foyer, the other rooms you’ve been in, and other places, too. Beneath the monitors is a schematic; this is how Chris was locking and unlocking the doors, you realise. But how did he have the credentials to do so?

You look at the desk and see a ring like the one the Crown Princess gave you, nestled in a groove.

“How did you get that?” You ask.

Chris frowns. “I was in that big room, but I was so afraid. I came through the door. Went upstairs. Along the corridors. Looking for somewhere safe enough. I got here and the Caylaran... we struggled, he tried to shoot but I took his weapon.” You follow his gaze to an energy weapon on the ground. “Then he ran. And I stayed. I could see everything. Not get caught out. And then I saw you.”

You squeeze his hand, and work the controls with your other hand. There is a glyph that looks like a shield; you turn it off. You check your tricorder – finally you can detect life signs. Both Caylaran and Genai. As you do, Nerela’s communicator chirrups to life.

“Nerela? I swear, if this was you—! You have the worst timing! The Caylaran guard are here. Put the blocking field back up immediately. That’s an order! Nerela? Nerela, answer me! Ne—”

It lapses into static for a moment. Then silence.

“The Guard are here, Chris. As soon as the atmosphere clears we can go home.”

*

When you return to the Enterprise you go to the captain’s quarters. You know he won’t be there, but you need the sense of his presence. His smell.

Chris had to stay on the planet to complete the original negotiations and help deal with the Genai; the drug’s effects had faded by the time the atmosphere was passable again, and you’d got some water and rations into him. Spock came down and stayed, but you had only left Chris because he ordered you to.

You have a shower, put on one of his sleep shirts, and curl up on the sofa under his throw blanket to write your report.

*

“Sweetheart?” You wake up to Chris kneeling in front of you, hand on your shoulder. His hair is damp and he’s out of his uniform. Your brow creases for a moment – you don’t remember him using that endearment for you before.

“Chris,” you say, stretching. Pushing the throw away, and leaning into his touch. “You’re back.”

“I am.” His mouth quirks into a smile. “There was a lot to sort out; it seems the Genai and the Caylara have a dispute over a world on a system between them. The Genai thought if Caylara joined the Federation, we would take their colony from them. They thought if they disrupted the negotiation and killed Crown Princess Nanren, either we would give up, or the Caylarans would be too afraid to continue.” He moves his thumb along your shoulder.

“Spock put the fear of God into the Genai in orbit. I’m not sure how,” he adds, at your incredulous look, “but they and the Caylarans have requested mediation. And now the Genai want to work towards joining the Federation, too.”

“I wish they’d chosen to talk to us first,” you say, frowning. Thinking of the dead Caylaran. “These breakthroughs always seem to come at such a cost.”

“They do,” he says, gathering you into his arms. Holding you against him.

You stay in his arms for a while, just breathing. But eventually he pulls back, and moves to sit beside you.

“You were amazing today. You’ll be getting a commendation, but Crown Princess Nanren wanted me to convey her thanks, too. You saved her life.” He reaches into his pocket, then leans forward and fastens a chain round your neck. It’s delicate, golden, and from it hangs the ring that she had lent you for the computer. That you had given back before you left. “She wanted you to have this. But she thought a necklace might work better.”

You shake your head, taking hold of the ring. “Saving her was as much you as me, Chris. Locking those doors.”

He looks at you, thoughtful. “I don’t think so. I—I have never felt fear like I did today. Now I look back at it I can tell it wasn’t real, but at the time, seeing you on those screens, moving with purpose, helping our people and the Caylarans... you gave me hope.”

He pauses, blue eyes meeting yours. Hand reaching out to touch your face.

“When we were down there... I remember what you said to me. I love you too.”

You lean forward, meeting him for a kiss, gentle at first but it goes passionate almost immediately, both of you pouring your feelings for each other into the connection between you. You didn’t know it could feel like this, you think, before he pulls you into his lap and thoughts flee away.

*

“Lieutenant, I want to thank you.” Number One says, sitting at her desk. “I was not myself down on Caylara, but you did yourself proud. You saved us.”

“You’re welcome, Commander.” You smile. “I’d say any time, but right now I’d be happy if I never left the ship again.”

“That being said, if you tell anyone—”

“If I tell anyone you were crying, I can expect to spend the next month of duty shifts degaussing the transporter with a microresonator?”

“Oh that’s a good one. I must remember that. Yes. You will be degaussing, Lieutenant.”

“Understood.”

[yunkiwii]

tattoos together | college au

Pairing: FWB!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff დ

Warnings: slightly suggestive, drinking, language

Word Count: ~3k

Requested: no, but you can see how to do so here if you’d like!

A/N: I recommend listening to tattoos together by lauv, since this is based on that song. ♡

Summary: (y/n) met Seonghwa in college and they quickly became close, ending up as friends with benefits. On a night out with some friends both of them ended up drinking a bit to much and well, I think we all know where this is going.

⇘

“Whereee shouuuuld weee go next?” (y/n) asked, loudly, as she grabbed Seonghwa’s arm so she wouldn’t fall, being tipsy from all the wine she had been drinking with her friends at dinner.

“You should probably head back home before you hurt yourself or someone else.”

“Don’t be a mood killer, sweetie!” (y/n) groaned back to Mia, pointing a finger to her way too sober roommate and best friend. "We still have a long long night ahead of us!" (y/n) stumbles making Seonghwa hold her closer to him.

Seonghwa wasn't nearly as drunk as (y/n), just tipsy enough to go on board with her crazy plans without thinking twice.

"So, let’s go find a party to crash!" the boy started walking away from his friends dragging a smiley faced (y/n) with him, both clearly more intoxicated than the rest of the group.

They hadn’t gone far, mainly because of how slow their feet were moving, when Hongjoong intervened.“Guys! Wait up!” they stumbled on their own feet when turning around to look at their friend. Their two friends were already approaching them. “Do you guys really think it is a good idea to just wander around like that?”

“YES!” both stated firmly at the same time before bursting into laughter.

“Well, I’m not in the mood and since you’re both adults you can take good care of yourselves.” Mia shrugged her shoulders and was about to leave when she remembered something else, “Please be quiet when you get home, and be safe.” She threw a warning look at Seonghwa when saying the last words. She knew how crazy her best friend could get with a couple of drinks and a party, and Seonghwa had a strong effect upon (y/n) that Mia never understood, and she only hoped he would use it for (y/n)’s sake.

“I’ll take you home, Mia. See you tomorrow guys.” Hongjoong did a little run to catch up to the girl. The other two friends bursted into laughter again when they saw Hongjoong place an arm around Mia’s shoulder.

“Now we know why they wanted to go home so badly…”

“Oh Seonghwa, they’re not like us. They will probably just cuddle for now. Let’s go!” (y/n) grabbed the boy’s hand and started her demand to find a party again.

“What do you mean they’re not likes us? We also cuddle!” (y/n) giggled at how offended Seonghwa sounded.

“Hm you know, they want a real relationship, we’re just friends having fun. Besides, our cuddles are never just cuddling.” She said it like it wasn’t a big deal and didn’t really think much of it. Seonghwa on the other hand got hurt, he didn’t quite understand why though. They agreed from the very start that this was a casual friends with benefits kind of thing, nothing more.

He shook these thoughts out of his head, thinking perhaps it was just the alcohol speaking.

In the meantime (y/n) uploaded a story of them on Instagram asking if there were any parties they could crash. That story led them to a new club that had opened recently, making (y/n) almost run there out of excitement. This was her first night out in two months, after being trapped between her room and the library to study for exams. Now she was finally free and wanted to live it to the fullest, Seonghwa not minding at all to join in.

Unfortunately, the excitement soon turns into disappointment. They get to the club, ID’s in hand, bodies already moving to the muffled beat leaving the building, but the security guard stops them from going any further. They look at each other and back at the big, buffy man, that blocked the entrance with his arm, with confused looks. They had already showed their ID’s, it didn’t make sense.

Then, the guard pointed at (y/n)’s clothes. She was wearing black shorts, fishnet tights, combat boots and the piece of clothing that seemed to be the problem, an oversized boyfriend style t-shirt.

“You can’t come in with boy’s clothes.” The big man stated, without an ounce of emotion in his voice.

“WHAT?” (y/n)’s posture changed completely; a defiant look marked all over her face, “That doesn’t make any sense! These aren’t boy’s clothes; these are MY CLOTHES! And even if they were boy’s clothes, we live in a free country, I can wear whatever I want!”

“Then go wear whatever you want somewhere else. You can’t come in like that, it’s the club’s policy.”

“Fuck the club’s policy! That’s so unethical what the hell?! I can’t believe people were recommending me this shit hole!” (y/n) screamed into the guard’s face, pointing fingers, waving arms and when she was finished, she spat on his shoes. Yes, she spat. Seonghwa grabbed her hand immediately pulling her out of there before they got into trouble, and ran away into nowhere, just wanting to get away.

“I’ll make sure to fill a complaint later.” Seonghwa stated after catching his breath from the unplanned cardio. “Also, I think this run sobered me.”

“I can’t believe that wearing oversized clothes is breaking club’s policy, what the hell?” (y/n) sat on the sidewalk still annoyed with the situation. “I’ve would’ve spat on his face if he weren’t to be that freaking huge.” Seonghwa laughed loudly sitting down next to her, making her laugh as well. “Thank you for pulling me out, he could probably smash me with one hand.”

“That’s what I’m here for (y/n), Mia delegated me the job when she decided to go home. But I got to say, you scare me sometimes.” He bumped his shoulder on hers lightly, making her look up at him smiling. “What should we do now? Go home?”

“I guess... the night is ruined anyway, and I also think the run sobered me.” (y/n) chuckled, leaning her head to rest on the boy’s shoulder. This simple gesture almost made Seonghwa forget how to breathe, starting to feel funny things in his stomach. He remained as still and quiet as possible, afraid that even the slightest movement would make her stand up and break the contact.

They stayed like that for a while, still recovering from the run. Until (y/n) noticed something right in front of them that made her stand up with a sudden movement, startling Seonghwa. She widened her eyes and looked down at her friend, as happy as a kid opening Christmas’ presents.

“What?”

“This night can still be memorable! I’m a genius!” she started crossing the road, stopping in the middle to look at her friend, still standing up from the sidewalk. “Come one! Hurry up!”

Seonghwa could not believe how a person could change their mood that fast. A few moments ago, she was pouty, annoyed, angry, and just wanted to go home. But now, she looks like a child and is ready for a new adventure as if nothing had happened before. He did love that about her. Love? Wait, no what? He liked her, liked, as a friend. He was sure of it. Or was he?

“How?”

“How what?”

“How are you going to make this night memorable?” that question made her smile even wider, grabbing his hand for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night, dragging him to a small shop with a neon light sign. As soon as Seonghwa realised what it was he stepped back.

“No, (y/n), no way you’re getting a tattoo here!” his face expression was shock, and nothing else.

“No, I am not. We are!”

“What do you even know about this place? Is it even hygienic?” Seonghwa glanced over the tattoo shop with disgust.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) shrugged her shoulders, “but we should get inside and find out.” She stepped in without a care in the world, a little bell rang when she opened the door.

Seonghwa walked behind her looking around, analysing every small detail searching for any red flags that would tell him to get the hell out of there. So far, everything seemed nice, it was organized, the store overall seemed clean, and the tattoo drafts hung upon the walls were actually aesthetically pleasing.

“This doesn’t look so bad… but what kind of tattoo shop is opened until this late at night?” The boy wasn’t yet convinced, and (y/n) knew it would take him a while, being as cautious as he is.

“Stop being so septic about everything, Hwa!”

“May I help you?” a voice coming from behind them made (y/n) jump. A tall woman came out of the side door, probably leading to where the tattoos were made, and greeted them with a smile. “Sorry if I startled you, love.”

“Oh, hm, we want to get tattoos! Together!” Seonghwa glanced over at (y/n) wondering why she was being so weird and flustered all of a sudden, so lost looking at her that he didn’t even corrected the together part. But he went back to reality when the woman spoke again.

“So, you want matching tattoos?”

“NO! We don’t, I don’t, I haven’t agreed to this yet! (y/n), a word please?”

“We’ll be right back!” (y/n) said all smiley to the woman, who smiled back at her while she was basically being dragged to the outside again. “What the hell Hwa? You could’ve been nicer back there!”

“You are all heart eyed looking at that tattoo artist!”

“So what? … are you jealous Hwa?”, (y/n) smirked, tilting her head sweetly, pleased with how annoyed the boy looked about the situation.

“What? No! I don’t have any reason to be jealous, this,” he pointed between them,” this isn’t a relationship, so no, I’m not jealous. You wish. And don’t give me that look!”

“You look cute when you get nervous, Hwa.”

“Shut up, let’s just go home!” he said as he started to walk away, but (y/n) was stubborn and wouldn’t leave without a tattoo so she stood in front of him so he wouldn’t go any further.

“We haven’t gotten our tattoos yet. And I really want a tattoo on my thigh and I really want to do it with you!”, she pointed her index at him touching his chest slightly.

“Why though?”

“Because I don’t have any thigh tattoo yet, duh..”

“And you should get one, there’s plenty of space for it.” He smirked glancing at (y/n)’s thick thighs, getting a soft punch on his shoulder as a response. “But why with me? Do I really have to make one too?”

“Yes! I really want us to have something ours, I have one with Mia as well and you’re my only other best friend and I don’t want to lose you.”

“And how will a tattoo help you with that, huh?” he crossed his arms looking down at (y/n) with furrowed eyebrows.

“When I get mad at Mia for some reason and I want to hate her, I look at the tattoo we made together and it just brings back all the good stuff and I know everything will be okay, because at the end of the day we still love each other and that won’t change over a stupid fight.” The girl gets embarrassed as soon as she realises that she just shared something that until now was only hers, making her look down at her feet. “You probably think it’s silly and that’s okay, we won’t do it if you don’t want to.” Voice quieter than before, barely audible but Seonghwa heard her just fine.

“Okay, let’s get thigh tattoos. Together.”

(y/n)’s eyes widened at the statement, and the looks of happiness and excitement of before came back to life again, making Seonghwa laugh at how adorable his friend looked.

“Really? Thank you so much Hwa!!!” she hugged his torso so tightly that he almost went out of breath.

“I have one condition though. To make it more fun, you know?” (y/n) nodded, indicating him to proceed, “I pick a design for you and you one for me, and we can only see it after it is already tattooed on our skin. What do you say?”

“Uhhh that does sound like fun! But don’t make it too big nor too dark, please!” he nodded in agreement and they went back inside to pick the said designs.

They shared their idea with the tattoo artist, who got really excited about it and took them, one at the time, into the other room to discuss their ideas and bring them to life. (y/n) picked a woman’s body silhouette, besides looking really cool it just made sense since their friendship started as something more physical than emotional. Seonghwa on the other hand chose a minimalist alien, it reminded him of when they first met and (y/n) couldn’t pronounce his name correctly and would just call him alien face, he also asked the tattoo artist to make it face her so she wouldn’t have to look into a mirror to see it properly.

(y/n) went in first to get her right thigh tattooed, so excited that she didn’t bother to take off her clothes, simply ripping her tights in the spot she wanted the tattoo.

“Hm ok, that was hot!” Seonghwa said softly, trying to control himself avoiding looking at (y/n)’s now more exposed thigh.

“Keep it in your pants, Mr. Park.” (y/n) laughed as she laid down to finally get the tattoo her dear friend picked, getting more and more anxious as the moment approached while Luna got her supplies ready. Seonghwa then pulled a chair to sit next to her and keep her distracted so she wouldn’t try to peak.

After a while, (y/n) stopped feeling the needle puncturing her skin and looked up at Luna, eyes wondering if it was already done. The other woman nodded, and she immediately stood up to see the result, a high pitch squeak leaving her lips as soon as she saw an alien facing her.

“Hwa!! I have your face on my thigh!!” her eyes wide, looking between her leg and her friend, a huge smile on her face and eyes almost tearing up at how happy she was. “I love it, I love it, I love it!” she wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck and gave him a kiss on his left cheek, squeezing him against her and holding him there for a few seconds before pulling away. “Now it’s your turn! Go, go!”

Seonghwa got up right away and started to take his pants off, making (y/n) look away.

“Please (y/n), as if you’ve never seen me naked!” he chuckled throwing his pants at her as soon as got them completely off, catching her off guard making her laugh.

They repeated the same process, now with (y/n) seated in the chair keeping Seonghwa distracted by making terrible puns and dad jokes. The needle puncturing his skin stang a bit but, just like (y/n), he already had a few tattoos, so he got used to it quickly. When Luna finished the second tattoo of this iconic duo, as she started to call them, Seonghwa couldn’t help but laugh at (y/n)’s choice.

“This will certainly remind me of you and make me hate you a little less if it comes to that.” He chuckled making (y/n) blush a bit without him noticing. “Thank you for talking me into this, it’s a memorable night for sure.” And kissed her cheek, not as roughly as she did to him, it was a soft kiss, his lips barely touching her skin, and yet it was enough to make her even more flustered, awakening funny feelings in her tummy.

After spending all that money on the tattoos, they decided it would be best for their bank accounts to walk home instead of getting an uber, making their way across town to (y/n) and Mia’s apartment in a slow pace, most of the way made in silence for they were too tired and sleepy, needing to channel all their remain energy towards their legs to be able to walk.

As they were approaching (y/n)’s building their pace slowed down, stopping right in front of the pathway, the girl already looking for the keys in her messy bag while walking towards the front door.

“See you tomorrow (y/n)” he says as they reach the door, (y/n) with the keys in hand already opening the door, and he places a kiss on her forehead not breaking the contact right away. (y/n) didn’t say anything until he was already halfway the pathway.

“Hwa, wait.”

“Huh?” the boy turned around, standing near the sidewalk.

“Why don’t you stay for the night?” she asked almost in a whisper, but Seonghwa heard it anyway and took a few steps closer to her.

“Oh (y/n), I would but I’m really tired and-”

“Just for cuddles, Hwa…” she tried to keep her eyes in his but the vulnerability her request showed made her instinctually look down at her feet.

“Just cuddles? Are you sure?” Seonghwa couldn’t hide his amusement, since (y/n) always made it clear that to her the benefits part of their friendship should be associated with sex at all times because, according to her, getting emotional and cuddle just for the sake of cuddling would turn this into a real and serious relationship, even though the boy tried to convince her otherwise multiple times.

“Shut up and get in before I change my mind.”

They went up to the apartment as quietly as possible, making their way to (y/n)’s bedroom right away and changing into more comfortable clothing, which to Seonghwa meant underwear and nothing more.

He laid on his back wrapping an arm around (y/n)’s shoulders as she laid her head onto his chest, embracing his torso and putting one leg over his. It was comfortable, warm, and felt safe, for both of them.

“This still doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship Hwa.” (y/n) groaned falling deeply into sleep.

“We could be though.” But (y/n) didn’t hear it.

♡MASTERLIST♡

net: @ateezlovenet

[fellhellion]

can you make a rec list of your favorite fe3h fics? if that's alright?

OF COURSE I WOULD LOVE TO <3 always happy to give my fave works a shoutout <33333

Though mind u this is going to be a LOT so ill pop them under a cut

from the heart in exile

TLDR: platonic hubert edelgard fic that haunts me. It’s extremely good with really well written character voices and focuses on these two characters trying to find out who they are beyond the war with their friends refusing to leave them behind

Summary: 

You can’t speak just yet to whether time—and age? experience? not that war or rulership have given you much of the latter, at least in the area of gardening—has made your thumbs any less brown, but the house in the Oghma Mountains is surrounded by so many growing things it hardly seems to matter. It sits at the edge of a forest, on the gentle lower slopes, and the people in the nearest town had all smiled to speak of it when they pointed the way for Hubert, the day you arrived. A number of them were old enough to remember what it had been like, years ago, in the warm and golden before, and to insist that it had not changed in the ways that mattered. It was still full of light. The air still smelled green.

In which Edelgard keeps a garden, Hubert learns to fly, and those they leave behind refuse to be left behind.

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

Watchtower

TLDR: platonic fic and amazing sylvain character study. Like genuinely one of the best i’ve ever read. If you’re someone who really wanted a deeper exploration of Sylvain’s feelings about Dimitri this fic is for u. 

Summary: 

When Sylvain is six and a half and climbs to the top of a tower with no one’s hand in his, he realizes that each and every one of the people he loves has been born as a gift to something else. Dimitri was born for Faerghus, and Felix was born for Dimitri. Glenn was born for the royal family, and Ingrid was born for Galatea and for Glenn. He realizes, too, that what they’re for decides their future. Dimitri will lead them into a better world. Felix will guide his path, and Glenn will protect his life, and Ingrid will bind her future to theirs.

And Sylvain, who was born for the border, will stand in a watchtower. He will see the enemy before it comes, and he will keep Dimitri and Felix and Ingrid and Glenn safe.

Dimitri reappears after five years. Sylvain knows it's his role to fix the mess they're in, but he doesn't know how.

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

little light

TLDR: really good exploration of flayn and seteth’s relationship (+ with his wife and flayn’s mother) pre canon (also post canon if i remember right) just a really good if heartbreaking family fic 

Summary: 

"She is beautiful, and she is perfect. It is foolish to say so, because the goddess herself says perfect beings cannot exist - but Cichol knows now she must have been wrong, because his daughter is perfect. They name her Cethleann. In the old tongue, it means 'light.'"

Cichol, Cethleann, what they lost, and who they became.

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conjure the wind, ease my mind

TLDR: this author in general writes FANTASTIC work so pls check out their whole repertoire. a platonic fic between holst and claude w an exploration of claude’s past that’s just so good....found brotherhood i am WEEPING 

Summary: 

“I’d like to know what’s wrong. I’d like to help if I can.”

Calculating green eyes lock onto Holst’s own, but this time they’re laced with something a little bit like resignation

Many people call Duke Riegan a liar, but Holst feels like he knows the young man a bit better than that. To call him a liar is wrong, you see, because all Claude has ever really done is master the art of giving up as little of the truth as possible. He keeps truth close, treats it like a valuable commodity.

“I have three brothers,” he says. “Half-brothers.”

***

Claude won’t spar with Holst and Holst wants to know why.

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

my fellow passerine

TLDR: same author as before and just...god this fic is so good. a platonic exploration of the relationship between Claude and Cyril. This fic has it all: found brotherhood, worldbuilding about Almyra, Claude character study, CYRIL character study. it’s just fantastic 

Summary:

Then the Alliance delegation shows up, and their offering strolls through the gates of the monastery like he already owns the place.

A reminder, for those who need it: Cyril is not an idiot. He has good eyes and he uses them.

An observation, for those who want it: The Golden Deer house leader is Almyran.

~

Cyril knows a lot more than he lets on, Claude is far less covert than he thinks he is, and messing with the guy your parents told you was a possibly-unkillable demon-prince isn’t usually supposed to earn you a lasting friendship but hey… life is already pretty damn weird.

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

Autotomy

TLDR: god this ferdibert fic just fucking...destroys me. i cannot get through it without crying at least twice and usually more. it’s basically a CF canon divergence with a heavy HEAVY exploration of ferdinand and hubert’s perspectives towards usefulness and how abelist thinking affects that in their efforts to find Shambala after Ferdinand loses his sight from one of Hubert’s experimental spells. All while falling in love. this fic is VERY fucking heavy, please mind the tags, it’s amazing but it’s subject matter is something you need to be very aware of. Also i would highly reccomend reading the prequel to this fic as it provides some critical context to Hubert’s actions that you don’t get through Ferdinand’s flawed pov. Basically this author is a master of character perspective.

Summary: 

Ferdinand von Aegir's war record ends in 1182. The war does not.

Or, blind man's bluff.

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

Coming of Age

TLDR: same author as before and god...just my FAVOURITE ferdinand character study. Takes place within the period Byleth is away. I don’t want to spoil anything but it’s incredible. Mines the fantastic character drama hook between Edelgard and Ferdinand that canon DIDNT rip

Summary: 

Ferdinand was a general. In theory. Edelgard had promised him continued command of his battalion, and a general needed a certain measure of wealth to supply his horses, his servants, his armor and rations and lodgings and, she’d promised.

But his father sat rotting in a cell, or worse, and it could be nothing more than a fable they thought him simple enough to believe. What did promises matter?

When the house of Aegir collapses around him, Ferdinand struggles to forge a path forward. He quickly discovers he can't manage it alone -- and neither, perhaps, can Edelgard.

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

Another Life

TLDR: same author AGAIN (can u tell theyre my favourite fjsdhfk). Ferdibert fic, a man loving his partner and trying to figure out the best way to support them as they silently wrestle with questions about their gender identity is something that can be so PERSONAL and make u CRY god. also dark flier hubert my beloved. 

Summary: 

Ferdinand notices things. He cannot say what he notices, precisely, because he has no one to ask, and if he were to ask Hubert it would damn well result in every questioned moment up and vanishing forever behind a new wall of prickly austerity. Ferdinand cannot risk that. The things that he notices stick in his chest, and he thinks only, but.

Hubert wrestles with unasked questions; Ferdinand wrestles with a pegasus.

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

Beneath the Sheets of Paper Lies My Truth

TLDR: Dimilix fic in my FAVOURITE fucking format of secondary in game historical sources exploring their relationship in retrospective.

Summary:

It was said that Duke Fraldarius’s grief at King Dimitri’s death was more potent than even the queen’s—but said by whom, and how, and why?

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

A Fair Day’s Work

TLDR: Post CF Canon ferdibert where Hubert and Ferdinand’s overworked aides desperately try to get them together so they’ll be too busy being uhhhh AMOUROUS to give them so much work. Very much a romantic comedy with very fun OCs as our protags. 

Summary:

“I may have some coffee in the place for you,” said Prime Minister Aegir. “Let me show you how much better I have become at brewing it to your taste.”

“If you insist,” said Minister Vestra but he sounded pleased. To Delarivier, who had literally made it her profession to attune herself to his tone (usually ranging from sort-of-murder-y to extremely-murder-y), Minister Vestra sounded very pleased indeed.

--

Ferdinand and Hubert's long-suffering aides figure out a way to work fewer hours.

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

Roost

TLDR: Dimilix post AM Canon with some pre canon moments. Basically an exploration of the complexity of their relationship with bird symbolism and extra Holy Kingdom lore. Gifting ur lover a vulture is something that can be so personal fksdhfsjkd

Summary:

Dimitri makes an affirmative noise. Then he takes a breath, voice leveling out into what Felix had long ago dubbed his 'future king voice', all steady explanation: “Long ago, the saying fledged right along with the nobles' and royal family's love of hawking, and it has remained a common phrase from one generation to the next. As adviser to the king, the duke is meant to be regal and strong, even deadly when required, from his place at the king's side. To always act as the most piercing, watchful eyes over the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and her sovereign."

He looks over to Felix as soon as his mouth snaps shut on the final word, as always seeking approval on his recitations.

Felix tilts his head, trying to look unimpressed. “I like eagles.”

A hand automatically comes up to cover the lower half of Dimitri's face, muffling the inarticulate sound of a snort of amusement. “That is good, since you are to be mine.”

***

They say an eagle watches over Fhirdiad.

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

A faint and faraway sound

TLDR: Ferdibert with an excellent Hubert centric character study....just so good...makes me warm and fuzzy...the mutual pining and ROMANCE of it all

Summary: 

Hubert learns to be a person, with a lot of help and complication along the way.

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

In golden light

TLDR: A really REALLY good ferdibert fic with ferdinand centric pov that focuses on him reflecting on his life as he prepares the Aegir house to become a boarding school. Ferdinand sibling exploration is ABOUND here and it’s great

Summary: 

When his family's summer home at Lake Aegir is set to be converted to a boarding academy, Ferdinand pays it one last visit and contemplates his complicated relationship with family, love, and legacy.

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

one three four three four zero

TLDR: the fic that actually got me into dimilix. VERY heavy character study and you NEED to mind both the general fic tags and the content warnings the author lists for each chapter but it’s incredible. Takes a very familiar trope and just. slams you in the face with over 60k words of amazing character study. 

Summary: 

“How are you going to get the One-Eyed Demon of Garreg Mach, the Boar Prince of Faerghus, smuggled past Dukedom soldiers? What plan could you possibly have to get a creature that incapable of even pretending it isn’t a bloodthirsty beast into Dominic without getting caught?”

The Professor gives him one of their steady, unreadable stares. They definitely do not and could not possibly have answered him, “You’re going to pretend to be married to him.”

or, How to Pretend to be Married When One of You Can't Stop Hallucinating and the Other One Uses Hostility to Cope

[min-sugar-7]

DAY 6: “Can I uncover my eyes now?” “No, stop being impatient.” + Humor

Read it Here on AO3:

 “Can I uncover my eyes now?” Merlin said, not two minutes after Arthur covered them. 

 Arthur rolled his eyes, but still got a jab in his stomach from Merlin. “I could hear that eye-roll,” Merlin grinned over his shoulder. 

 “Shut up. Stop being impatient, Merlin.” 

 They were outside, in the dead of the night, stumbling through the forest like lunatics. Arthur tried hard to make sure Merlin wouldn’t crash into trees, but branches are pesky little things. Merlin let out another hiss when a tree branch grazed his arm. 

 “You’re going to remove this blindfold, or I’ll burn it,” Merlin hissed, rubbing his arm. Arthur sighed, resigned. He was determined to keep the location a secret, to see Merlin’s reaction when he would realize where they were. 

 “Just a bit longer.” Arthur guided Merlin to a clearing, a familiar one. Not much had changed since the last time they were here. The river still flowed, the long grass still tickled their ankles, and the air still felt chilly and clear. Arthur had planned this right to the smallest details. He'd tried his best to recreate the night they kissed.

 Arthur untied the knot to Merlin’s blindfold, letting it drop. Arthur saw everything, every expression that crossed his face. First, it was confusion, then realization sparked his eyes like the stars in the night sky. A brilliant smile crossed his features, giving it a manic edge. Then his eyes turned soft, dark in the moonlight. 

 Merlin met his eyes, face almost glowing in the starlight. “Prat,” Merlin muttered, drawing Arthur into a soft kiss. It’s been a month, but it still felt like the first time. Merlin’s kisses were eccentric- the softness of his lips contradicting the feel of his calloused hands framing Arthur’s face. His touch sent the same sparks, same feeling. He kissed like a man struggling for air, but sometimes they were soft and chaste and loving. 

 Arthur pulled back, resting his head against Merlin’s, relishing the warmth his body provided. “There’s more,” he muttered after a while of comfortable silence. 

 “Oh?” Merlin asked, fluttering his eyes open. Up this close, Arthur could see the faint blue of his eyes and the dim gold that freckled them. The darkness made it harder to make out anything else. 

 “Yeah,” Arthur said, “only if you have the patience to wait.”

 Merlin’s lips twitched upwards. “The one lacking patience would be you, your royal highness.” Arthur shook his head because only Merlin could make it sound like “chamber pot.”

 “None of that.” Arthur slipped his hand into Merlin’s, intertwining them. “I’ll have you know I’m plenty patient.”

 “Funny,” Merlin smirked. “If I can recall correctly, you’re the one who unceremoniously crashed his lips to mine, instead of waiting until the laws were repealed, like we agreed.” 

 Arthur shrugged his shoulders. “Would you rather I had not?”

 Merlin immediately shook his head, saying, “nuh-huh, kiss me again.” Arthur was more than happy to oblige. 

 Arthur dragged him to the picnic blankets he’d laid out this morning. Merlin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Okay, which servant knows about us? ‘Cuz I definitely didn’t lay all this out,” Merlin said, sounding genuinely surprised. 

 “All me,” Arthur smirked, feeling proud. Merlin’s eyes widened, lips pressed in an impressed line. Arthur felt his pride soar. 

 “Impressive. Hard to believe, but impressive,” Merlin said and sat down. Arthur did the same. Arthur pulled out the fruits, bread, cheese, and tart cakes he packed from the basket. He laid it all out for Merlin to see. 

 “Are those apples and blueberry tarts? Who are you and what have you done to Arthur Pendragon?” Merlin narrowed his eyes in fake suspicion. 

 “The real Pendragon is rotting in my dungeons, Emrys. I’m here to kidnap you and make you my pet sorcerer,” Arthur lowered his voice for extra effect. Merlin gasped, his hands flying to cover his mouth.

 Merlin froze and then lowered his hands, face morphing into a thoughtful expression. “Will there be blueberry tarts?”

 “Plenty,” Arthur smirked.

 Merlin shrugged, reaching forward to grab some. “I see no problem with this, then.”

 They both stared at each other for a beat and then burst out laughing. Arthur loved moments like these. Moments where he could forget that he was King and Merlin was a powerful sorcerer, and enjoy the ridiculous company Merlin is. It was just them being completely, utterly, ridiculous. 

 “No, but seriously,” Merlin said, once they sobered up, “what do I owe this pleasure to?” 

 Arthur thought about it, “just for us. I wanted to show you something, but you have to wait.”

 Merlin smiled a soft one smile and shrugged. “As long as I’m waiting with you. What is it?”

 Arthur had to scold his heart for speeding up like that, especially when Merlin shifted over to cuddle with Arthur. His heart, obviously, did not listen. Merlin didn’t say anything about it. 

 “Well, you know that Astronomer that visited a few days ago?” Merlin nodded. He’d come with a visiting delegation from a kingdom of magic. Arthur had already made peace with the Druids. Now, he thought it was best to start with the neighboring kingdoms, too. Of course, the visiting delegation immediately recognized Merlin, and it was fun watching Merlin get all flustered and shy. 

 “He said a giant star would fall tonight, leaving a trail of ice. I wanted to watch, with you,” Arthur said and pulled Merlin closer. The night was getting colder. Merlin turned and gave a look so full of adoration, Arthur just had to kiss him again. “I don’t know how he knew, but…” Arthur trailed off, shrugging. 

 “He was a seer, remember? And he studies the sky for a living.”

 And so they waited. They teased, bantered, kissed, ate, and teased some more. They watched the sky, but Arthur spent most of it watching Merlin. Sometimes, if he turned a certain way, it looked like the stars were embedded in his eyes, twinkling and shining. Arthur loved him, so much, that it felt amazing. 

 “I’d seen this before, in Ealdor, I think.” Merlin burrowed his head on Arthur’s chest. Sometime during the night, they’d laid down on the blanket, too tired to sit up. Arthur tightened his grip around Merlin’s waist, pulling him closer. 

 “Hm?” Arthur hummed, telling Merlin to continue. Arthur buried his nose in Merlin’s messy hair, breathing in the comforting scent there. Merlin smelt like home- like the forests, crisp and fresh. Oh God, Arthur loved him.

 “I don’t remember much.” Merlin sighed. “But it was beautiful. I’m not sure if it’s the same thing.”

 “Can’t trust you to remember much, anyway. It’s a miracle you remember your own name.”

 For his efforts, Arthur got a mumbled, “shut up,” and a slap to the chest, followed by laughter. Worth it. 

 “As I was saying-” Merlin shifted, sliding his legs between Arthur’s, burrowing closer, “- it was a very big star, more like a chunk of rock or something. It left a trail of blue light behind, a long one. It was like a tail or something. It was beautiful.”

 “That sounds impossible. Rocks? In the sky?” They would fall down to the Earth. 

 “I know. But it wasn’t a star, I’m sure. It was too big.” Arthur stared dubiously because it sounded ridiculous. This led to a fairly stupid discussion (read: argument) on whether there could be rocks in the sky. Merlin thinks the Sun and Moon are rocks, while they’re obviously just big stars. Arthur said that this giant “rock” is just a hoax or something. 

 “I have faith. Maybe it’s true,” Merlin said, shivering. 

 “Cold?” Merlin nodded. Arthur went to the basket and brought out another blanket, earning a kiss from Merlin. They snuggled close, exchanging kisses and jabs.

 When the moon was halfway across the sky, Arthur gave up. It did put a damper on his mood, a big one, in fact. He wanted to show Merlin something pretty, something impossible. But it just didn’t happen.

 “Hey, stop pouting,” Merlin said, poking at Arthur’s lower lip. He wore a small smile and leaned forward to press another kiss. “It doesn’t matter-”

 “It does, though,” Arthur sighed. 

 Merlin’s eyes went all soft and adoring, his hands running through Arthur’s hair. “I’m happy, though. It’s been a while since I had this much fun,” Merlin confessed.

 Arthur had to agree. The past couple of months were hectic. He got crowned King, Merlin showed him a side of himself which Arthur never knew about, they fought, made up, almost kissed, decided they weren’t ready, and then kissed again because Arthur couldn’t wait. Then there were the countless meetings and delegations and feats. In the end, they were both worn out and tired. 

 But Arthur wanted to, perhaps, maybe, try doing something romantic. He failed, obviously, and it was disappointing. Arthur wanted to see Merlin’s brilliant smile, hear his melodious laugh, lose himself in his eyes. Arthur hated the fact that he’d gone all soft, but Merlin made it all worth it. 

 Merlin sighed, letting his head rest on Arthur’s chest. “Alright,” Merlin said, raising his head again. “I could show you what I saw in Ealdor as a kid.”

 Arthur considered it. If they wait for too long, they’d lose the night sky and won’t be able to see anything. 

 “How?” 

 Merlin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. He raised an arm and wiggled it, “magic.”

 Arthur chuckled, impressed. “I thought you said magic was to be used judiciously, or something like that.”

 Merlin frowned, shrugging. “I think I can make an exception.” 

 Merlin rolled away from Arthur’s chest, resting beside Arthur. Arthur turned his head so that he could see Merlin. He inched his hand closer to Merlin’s because he missed the physical contact. Merlin wordlessly held Arthur’s hand and closed his eyes. 

 Merlin said something Arthur couldn’t quite understand, but when his eyes opened, they flashed a brilliant gold. It reminded Arthur of sunsets. Merlin's face twisted, eyes narrowing in concentration and effort. His grip on Arthur’s hand suddenly tightened, making Arthur jump.

 “Merlin-” Arthur began to protest because Merlin’s grip suddenly slacked. Arthur’s stomach dropped, because what if Merlin hurt himself? He always pushes himself to his extent, poking and prodding at his limits.

 Merlin turned his head to the side, his eyes tired. The corners of his lips twitched up, smiling lazily. 

 Arthur’s heart dropped. Arthur pulled him closer, cradling him in his arms. Oh God, what if Merlin really hurt himself? Arthur should have known that it was a bad idea. Dammit. 

 “Watch,” Merlin slurred. Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off Merlin. He could not; will not. It was his fault, and Merlin isn’t telling him what’s wrong- “If you miss it, I’ll never forgive you.” 

 Arthur reluctantly tore his eyes away from Merlin, clutching him closer. And, oh, oh. It was large, larger than a wishing star, but smaller than the moon. But it left a beautiful trial of white and blue, glittering like a million stars crowded in one area. It moved across the sky, and in about a couple blinks, it was gone, leaving behind a trail of white dust. 

 Not a few seconds later, a wishing star passed by. Arthur knew it was childish and stupid, but he closed his eyes and wished a wish. 

 Arthur turned his head to where Merlin was still watching the sky. Something heavy bloomed in his heart, something spectacular, magical. Arthur wondered what he had done to deserve Merlin- someone so beautiful, so magical, so, so- Merlin. 

 Arthur was shocked by the intense wave of emotions he felt. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, content to continue watching Merlin watch the night sky. Merlin turned, and soon they were staring at each other.

 Arthur is very well aware that he looks like a love-sick fool, and for once, he doesn’t care. He wants Merlin to know, to understand, just how much he cares for him, how much he loves him. 

 So he did. Under the night sky, under the stars, right after Merlin did something that seemed so impossible, Arthur pulled him closer, delighted to have him in his arms. “I love you,” he whispered, and meant it with every fiber of his being. He’s never felt so deeply for anyone. He never let himself. But Merlin, sweet, loyal, impossible, Merlin, broke through every one of his walls and carved a Merlin-shaped hole in his heart. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

 Merlin’s expression changed from droopy to delighted, smiling wide and lazy. Merlin leaned forward but couldn’t get far. But Arthur understood. He pressed his lips against Merlin’s, nipping at his bottom lip, sucking it. Merlin’s kisses got sloppier, and Arthur pulled back. 

 “I lov’ y’u to-'' Merlin began slurring, but Arthur understood. He placed a soft kiss on his forehead, heart about to burst. He tucked Merlin’s head under his chin, bringing the blanket up to Merlin’s chin. He tucked him in, weirdly comfortable sleeping on the ground, but it mostly had to do with Merlin being in his arms.

[trashydemigodmess]

mcride for both 🤡

you really want to hurt me like this huh 😔

Who is more aggressive in bed? if you'd asked me this like four years ago I'd say wyatt but now??? both 😜 listen rae’s had a lot of time to learn and grow she’s a powerful bitch it just depends on the day/mood

Lights on or off? on baabbyy 😈

Who does what chores? when I tell you these two are so clean and organized and tidy it's almost unnatural, they'd be so respectful and harmonious with just taking turns and delegating chores like a well-oiled machine

Who gets babied when they’re sick? rae would absolutely baby the hell out of wyatt if he was sick: give him all the blankies, make him soup, lots of cuddles (and in doing so she'd probably catch whatever he had gjfdkglsfd)

Who makes breakfast? they’re both pretty on-the-go so I feel like they really don’t have time in the mornings to sit down together and eat a nice breakfast lol it’s usually like, coffee, protein shake, avocado toast, something simple u know? but if they did have the time for a nice breakfast wyatt would do it bc he’s an amazing cook

Where would they go on their honeymoon? someplace warm and tropical where they can look sexy lounging on a beach

What are their quirks while sleeping? they’re both so tall I feel like their sleeping arrangement is a mess gjkfdgds rae’s stupid long ass legs always hang over the edge of the bed because she slides off her pillow all the time in her sleep and wyatt’s limbs are all spread out, they’re just all tangled up and draped over each other pretty much constantly

What is their favorite activity as a family? they like doing active things together! like go on a hike or a fun workout or even just a nice lil walk where they can talk about their day c:

Who is the stricter parent? probably rae lol I think she’d unfortunately put a lil too much pressure on the kids. while wyatt is also a rule enforcer he’s at least the cool dad they’ll actually go to to talk about stuff

Who would be the big spoon? rae insists that it must always be wyatt but like, if he wants a cuddle tbh she wouldn't say no

Who would wake up first? y’know, this is a tough question and I honestly don’t know! they both seem like extremely morning people lol so it may just depend on their schedule that day

Do they have nicknames for each other? rae likes to call him wy, and rae says her nickname is baby, always 😤

What happened when they met each other’s parents? both their families loved them and were very sad when they broke up because how do u break up a picture perfect relationship like that 😪 I feel like rae's sister would've stayed mutuals with wyatt on social media though lmao

How do they apologize after an argument? I would love to say that they’ve learned from their past mistakes but, I think rae would hold a grudge and they’d both be dramatic, but wyatt would cave and apologize first, then she’d come around and apologize too

What would they be like as parents? ...do you remember angelica's mom from rugrats? that's rae as a parent lmfao she is a powerful business woman who loves her kids and wants them to succeed. wyatt is also powerful and successful and rae needs a good trophy husband to show off but I think rae would definitely fumble a bit at being a mom despite trying her best lol and something in me just says wyatt would naturally be such a good dad c’: oh also their family would look instagram perfect always

Who is the better cook? we love master chef wyatt :elmo: he makes all these fantastic meals and rae loves it 😌

Who is more romantic? wyatt probably lol he seems like he’d more openly just straight up simp for rae LOL but she absolutely has her moments where she’s adorably soft and romantic too

What sort of gifts do they get for each other? I feel like they’re both pretty materialistic hoes so definitely just lots of nice things, rae will get him something he’s looking for for his sneaker collection, he’ll get her a designer bag, etc.

Who gets jealous easiest? oh 100% rae you can't even look at wyatt a certain way without her being like *squints* gdjfgfdk she's toxic

Who gets more excited for events? I feel like wyatt is definitely more the type to get all excited about holidays and birthdays, but wyatt also strikes me as someone who’d forget anniversaries/birthdays and rae would have to remind him

Who is the most adventurous? I feel like rae would more easily get stuck in her routine and get too focused on what she’s doing, so wyatt would be there to pull her out of that and take her on adventures 

Who is the most protective? they're both equally protective like...genuinely you don't want to be on the bad side of either of them they could Fuck You Up

What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts? not to repeat myself but they kind of were gkdjfgldfs they were The Popular Ones™️ that you either loved or hated and they were so messy lmao

Song to sum them up? I can say confidently with my whole ass chest: I almost do by taylor swift, it literally rips me up inside thinking about them when I hear it

leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? neither of them are you kidding

forgets to run the dish washer? again, who do you think they are?

pumps gas for the car? wyatt because he’s driving and rae would run inside to get the snacks

drives when they’re going somewhere? wyatt because sexy man driving car hand on steering wheel hand on cute gf’s thigh u know the vibes

rearranges the furniture? I feel like rae would be insufferable with this lol, she’d never be happy with the layout, then just hire an interior designer to do it for them instead (and probs still not be 100% happy with it gjkfdgd)

falls asleep with the TV on? wyatt, because, say it with me everyone, he’s a man!

gets to use the bathroom first? rae says herself because she is queen of the house

decides the temperature for the ac/heater? they have a mutually agreed upon temperature that works for them

sets up holiday decorations? they would do it together 😌

leaves the lights on? rae because she’s working too hard and isn’t paying attention

uses the bathroom with the door open? I feel like wyatt would sometimes but rae does not

fixes the plumbing (or calls the plumber)? wyatt I think would want to try and fix it, and when he can’t figure it out rae just sighs and calls the plumber lmao

[tanoraqui]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[now all on AO3!]

Nie Huaisang wakes up from his overexertion-induced sleep after about 14 hours, and about 24 hours before his brother wakes up. He has this time to think

He doesn’t use it to think, because his brother is still unconscious, comatose from a severe qi deviation. Chief Physician Nie Fengji, Wen Qing, Wen Qing’s Uncle Six, and assorted Nie physicians do obscure medical things to him involving spiritual energy, needles, a dash of surgery, and actually more of the poison that nearly killed him, in what Nie Huaisang can only assume is some sort of physician-approved hair of the dog scheme, and Nie Huaisang participates by sitting quietly in the corner until even that is deemed too in-the-way and he’s banished first to the hallway and then, with physician authority, to his own bed

they do search, and find some of the yin-storing grass hidden in Wen Ning’s pillow. Nie Huaisang doesn’t go to bed; he goes down to the third guest room and takes A-Yuan and Granny out for a walk just long enough for a couple disciples to beat Wen Ning enough to look good later - split lip and bruises, etc. In case anyone comes checking the story he gave Jin Qixian

Wen Ning, he hears, bears it with aplomb. Just in case it’s the Wens who are lying, Nie Huaisang doesn’t really give a shit

But on the third day since he collapsed off Baxia into the main courtyard, Nie Mingjue wakes up. He’s groggy and weak, physically and spiritually, but he shoves himself into a sitting position with a glare, catches and holds Nie Huaisang reflexively when he flings himself at his brother with a relieved laugh. Someone pulls him back - “stop putting weight on him!” - but it’s enough. It’s enough.

Wen Qing has three-day bags under her eyes. She says quietly, “That he’s awake - it shouldn’t leave this room. Not until Nie-zhongzhi is more recovered, and has decided what he wishes to do.” She nods toward Nie Mingjue

“What the fuck happened?” he demands, and it’s the weakest snarl Nie Huaisang has ever heard. His brother is already sagging back against his pillows. “Jin Guangshan was actually polite before I left Lanling, but I don’t remember...”

“He poisoned you,” Nie Huaisang says bluntly, because he’s thinking again and that was the last straw he needed to be convinced of how this happened (he never really stopped thinking, deep beneath the anxious terror and anticipation.) “No, this stays here...or can he be moved to his own bedroom?” he asks the Chief Physician. “It’d be more comfortable, and easier to hide his state from any spies Jin Guangyao might have - I mean, I assume he has spies. I’d want to...”

[the mastermind]

A few days later, Nie Huaisang arrives at Lotus Pier and begs his friends to take him out on the town. Distract him with food and wine and cheer from the stresses of home, where his brother is still comatose and everyone is starting to expect him to be responsible instead

Jiang Cheng is busy with Sect Leader duties but Wei Wuxian takes him up on it immediately. There’s nowhere quite like Yunmeng’s piers for goofing around - somewhere around the fourth street theater show and second jug of wine between them, Nie Huaisang leans over and asks, “The next time there’s a cultivational conference at Carp Tower - would you be interested in making a ruckus?”

they’re walking down the street in a crowd. It’s very hard to be overheard on the street in a crowd

“Like tonight?” Wei Wuxian grins and he, too, looks like this night has been a welcome break

“Without me,” Nie Huaisang admits. “Just to have some fun - make a scene! Cause a fun distraction!”

A single jar of wine in Wei Wuxian means he’s still mostly sharp. “A distraction for what?”

“Oh, you know,” Nie Huaisang says airily, hides half his face behind a coy fan and says more quietly. “Helping some of those Wens dying in Jin Guangshan’s work camps.”

Wei Wuxian has never had much head for intrigue, but at least he whispers. “The same Wens who assa- who tried to assassinate your brother?”

“No, silly!” Nie Huaisang baps him with the fan, laughing, and hopes WWX sees in his eyes that he’s serious. “That’s a different thing. This is just to have some fun!”

Wei Wuxian meets his eyes, and his face splits back into a grin. It’s regained the sharp-toothed edge its been carrying since the end of the Sunshot Campaign. “Why not? I could use a little fun myself!”

The next cultivation conference at Carp Tower is in just three weeks, and Nie Huaisang spends them frantic. There’s so much to do, and he can’t let anyone know about any of it. There are plenty of empty houses, empty entire villages - the war was fought in Qinghe only second to Qishan, for Wen Ruohan’s determination to capture the impenetrable fortress clan 

he wants to err on the side of making sure people will have shelter, especially with winter coming on, but he needs to err on the side of stealth or they’ll never pull this off - 

but how are they (how is he) going to pull it off anyway, honestly; there’s only so many times he can storm in and demand things with a wild combination of pitiful tears and borrowed authority...he can’t exactly get another note for the actual Jin clan - 

...though...

they don’t need that many extra roofs, at least, if there won’t be that many people (priority of the Dafan Wens, of course, to repay Wen Qing and because, honestly, they’re the largest group that survived the initial purges, being mostly non-combatants)

he tried and failed to put the distraction out of mind, because there’s really no way to know in advance what Wei Wuxian would do, much less how to handle it. whether it would create a day or a week or several more years of chaos...

and then there was the really difficult part: getting Nie Mingjue to stay the fuck in bed, or at least in his own suite of rooms. Nie Huaisang’s brother was the worst patient possible, which was unfair, because Nie Huaisang himself would’ve loved to have an excuse to lounge in his bedroom doing leisurely, sedentary activities for few weeks. Instead he was out running around organizing things - while letting as few people as possible know what he was organizing or even that he was doing it - and Nie Mingjue was being threatened every other day by Wen Qing and her needles

To make matters more exciting, 10 days out from the cultivation conference, a delegation arrived without from YunmengJiang - Jiang Wanyin himself, and riding with him, Jiang Yanli. Nie Huaisang met them in the courtyard; she stepped gracefully off her brother’s sword and gave him a hug that was, honestly, meltingly comforting and kind

“Nie Huaisang! I’ve been so sorry to hear about Mingjue-gongzi. I would have come sooner, but, you know, we’re only stealing this time from a trip to Lanling for more wedding planning.” She gestured to a pair of disciples who between them hauled a tureen the size of a small child. “I brought some of my best medicinal soup - I don’t know if it will possibly be right, but A-Xian told me how hard it’s been for you, and I just had to try to help.”

offer

“You’re too kind, Jiang-guniang.” He fluttered his fan anxiously. “I’m sure Da-ge would thank you if he could, but...” he blinked away tears. “I can’t even let you in to see him; the physicians even turned away his sworn brothers.”

skeptical outlining of situation

(Jin Guangyao was obviously right out, and the idea of involving earnest, idealistic Zewu-jun in any sort of conspiracy made Nie Huaisang think fondly of breaking out in hives)

“Of course,” Jiang Yanli said sympathetically. She took her brother’s arm back to lean on, and Nie Huaisang took his cue to bow and offer her refreshments and a set - maybe with a view? He knew all the best places. Jiang Yanli, genuinely frail enough to not be expected to do much more than look lovely, accepted

they had a very pleasant conversation about other things - poetry, who was and wasn’t being invited to the wedding, the latest fashions in Lanling (Nie Huaisang sighed wistfully) 

eventually Jiang Yanli asked, between one sip of tea and the next, “This event you’re planning with A-Xian - could it be postponed? Say, six months?”

the wedding. Nie Huaisang’s breath caught briefly - now that would be a distraction in its own right, even without anything Wei Wuxian could pull

but he thought about the emaciated, flinching Wens in the Qiongqi Pass camp, and those back in Qishan who weren’t much better off, and shook his head. “Not for those to whom it would matter most.” 

and, frankly, he couldn’t ask his brother to stay quiet so long, and he really would prefer than Lanling not know Nie Mingjue had truly survived until they were ready to strike back

Jiang Yanli hummed thoughtfully. “What about...two, two-and-a-half months?”

...there was nothing happening in two months, except the middle of winter. which would make roads more impassible, maybe to their advantage, but only if a couple different things went wrong...

but Jiang Yanli was smiling sweetly, like someone with a plan

“I think that would be wonderful,” he said, and sipped his tea back at her

Jiang Cheng punches him on the shoulder before they go and says he doesn’t seem like he’s doing completely terribly at everything, which is the Jiang Cheng equivalent of a supportive hug and 10-minute earnest pep talk. Nie Huaisang is genuinely warmed

Jiang Yanli, mentally cracking her knuckles as her brother flies her to Carp Tower: time to seduce my fiancee, the third hottest man in the kingdom, into putting a baby in me so we can speedrun our wedding prep - for a good cause! god I love my life

[the grifter]

unfortunately, two-and-a-half months is too long a delay to use the usual “ask for forgiveness, not permission” method, not least because Nie Huaisang has to explain to his brother why he wants him to keep pretending to be comatose, when even his physicians are starting to agree that he needs exercise more than rest

“No,” Nie Mingjue says flatly

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang pleads. “It’ll just be so much easier if everyone thinks I’m running around like a terrified rabbit!”

“Why do you insist on being useless at all times?” Nie Mingjue growled, a familiar old song. “If you just applied yourself - ”

“Because it’s easier!” Nie Huaisang cried (a newer tune). “Because I don’t want to be a great warrior, I just want to make pretty things and have friends and have fun - and when I do want something, it’s much easier to get it if no one thinks I’m worth anything - ”

“Of course you’re worth something,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “You’re the heir to QingheNie and you’re my brother!”

Nie Huaisang really did cry easily. He blinked away the tears.

“The Jins tried to kill you, da-ge,” he said quietly. “And they tried to make it look like a qi deviation.” (Like Father, went unsaid. Like my mother and your uncle and three of our cousins, one of whom was only thirteen.) “I want to make clear to them what we think of that.”

Nie Mingjue unclenched his hand from Baxia’s hilt, with whom Nie Fengji and Sixth Uncle had finally agreed to let him reunite. “Then we kill one of them back,” he said. “Not this underhanded, indirect...and with Wen-dogs...”

“If I could kill Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao in one stroke, right now, I’d do it. But that would start another war, and we could survive another war, but a lot of our people wouldn’t. Only about seven out of ten survived the last one.” He bit his lip. “And the Wens...not all of them were monsters, we’ve seen that, and the Jins tried to blame the ones we know are alright. This will show them that we can make up our own minds.”

Nie Mingjue was silent for a long moment, and Nie Huaisong resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot. His brother was never impressed with fidgeting.

“Fine,” Nie Mingjue said at last. “Do your scheme. But you’d better prove that you’re right, Huaisang.”

“I will, Nie-zhongzhi.” He stood at parade attention.

“And you won’t use it as excuse that you’re too busy to practice your saber.”

“Da-ge!” he whined instantly. “But I will be busy! We need to tar all the house roofs in Ning Village, and find about fifty spare horses, and weed out any spies in our household - oh, and do you have any letters from Jin Guangyao I can look at? And...”

News came that the wedding of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had been moved up to two months rom now and Nie Huaisang whistles under his breath then flinches reflexively, before he realizes there’s no "Twin Prides” around to smack him for disrespecting their sister

But two months somehow passed even faster than that first week had. Homes to quietly repair and no few medical supplies to stock up on, winter snow-ready horses to find and discard with another trip to Yunmeng, social visits to carefully negotiate...

Gossip flowed, as always. Gossip said: Nie Mingjue has survived the dastardly attack on his life; he’s still half-dead or he’s twice the warrior he ever was or he personally executed every Wen in his dungeons. Gossip said: the witch Wen Qing had seduced him and stabbed him with a poisoned blade; the witch Wen Qing had fallen in love with him and saved him from a random qi deviation; the witch Wen Qing was actually the Yiling Patriarch in disguise and both of the above were true. Gossip generally agreed that Nie Huaisang was still wavering between disconsolate over his brother’s brush his death (and his own brush with Sect Leadership) and dragging anyone who would heed him out for drinks and entertainment 

Jin Guangyao did have spies in the Unclean Realm, of course; he knew their value. His girl in the kitchen got fired over some mistake with a roast, but the guest cultivator and the chambermaid and assorted people in the nearest towns generally agreed: Nie Mingjue was back on his feet but still rebuilding his strength under the careful eye of his Chief Physician, and didn’t remember anything from the day of his qi deviation. Wen Qing was dead, as were all the other Wens - she and Wen Zhichen had preformed well in healing the damage she’d done in her attempt to poison the sect leader, under threat of their own deaths, but when Nie Mingjue woke up he'd ordered their deaths without even the dignity of public execution. Nie Huaisang was so wracked with guilt over bringing them into the house that he’d actually started practicing saber sometimes, and just a little heartbroken over the death of the child in particular

this last, Jin Guangyao found out himself, as well as confirmed most of the rest when he was allowed to visit his sworn brother and ended up letting Nie Huaisang sob on his shoulder for two straight hours. He had to have the robe steam-cleaned, but it was very informative

“Would you like us to kill the rest of the Wen-dogs?” he asked his sworn brother. “Or you can do it yourself, of course.”

Nie Mingjue snorted dismissively. “I killed the ones who were the biggest problem. Keep working your dogs to death as you like.”

The night before they were supposed to leave for the Jiang-Jin wedding, Nie Huaisang sat in his brother’s chambers (as he had taken to doing many evenings) and absolutely failed to focus on his paints.

“ - I’m sure I can handle the lieutenants left in charge, though really I haven’t talked to them as much so they’re more likely to be suspicious, especially if I didn’t get the calligraphy right - ”

“Huaisang - ”

“ - and the Wens themselves, I mean, this has to go quickly if it’s going to work at all - what if Wen Ning hasn’t gotten word around - we haven’t heard from him since yesterday, what if they found him, he could be- Wen Qing is going to kill me - ”

(the Nie sect wasn’t given to duplicity, but that didn’t mean their fortress of a sect building didn’t have a few spare secret rooms and passageways, in which to hide a handful of Wens for a couple months)

“A-sang - ”

“ - hell, what if the arrays don’t work and we all just die - but it’s the only way; horses wouldn’t be fast enough, especially with the heavy snows this year - ”

“Nie Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue barks in a parade-ground voice.

Nie Huaisang spins around mid-pace to stand at attention, one hand behind his back and the other on his saber hilt. A very few reflexes have been successfully trained into him

His brother scowls at him from the bed, where he sits in lotus position as the world’s grumpiest, most broad-shouldered guru. Nie Huaisang braces himself

“I’m proud of you,” says Nie Mingjue

“I- what?” 

Nie Huaisang has spent the last two and a half months careful of every expression he made, but now he isn’t sure what to do at all.

“You’ve actually put effort into this. It’s needlessly elaborate and only just barely honorable, and it’s certainly not saberwork. But it’s...something.” He nods.

“...oh.” 

his posture does relax in surprise. but then, the parade-attention was never going to last

“You will pull off this absurd scheme, and you will not be in any way injured in the process, because if you are, we will go to war with LanlingJin.”

“Yes, da-ge”

“Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll call Wen Qing in to put you to sleep, while I do this bullshit boring nightly meditation.”

Nie Huaisang ducks his head. “Yes, da-ge.”

oh, a smile. a smile is the expression he wants to make

The day of the wedding of Jin Zixuan of Langling and Jiang Yanli of Yunmeng dawns auspiciously bright and the ceremony lives up to every portent. Carp Tower is decorated with even more red than gold. The bride is radiant enough to make the sun weep for jealousy; the groom looks pretty good, too; and they only have eyes for one another. Both her brothers cry, Jiang Cheng stoically and Wei Wuxian loudly; Madame Jin looks even happier than the newlyweds; and Nie Huaisang makes sure he’s among the first to offer the happy couple congratulations, so he can equally quickly slip out and set off a teleportation talisman

He appears in the woods near the first town in the Qishan that the spare Wen cultivators and other prisoners of war are being stored in. A dozen Nie cultivators are waiting expectantly, led by Zhao Huandi

Nie Huaisang quickly strips himself of the outer layer of wedding-appropriate finery, leaving his ordinary day’s slightly-nicer-than-most-would-bother-with finery. He tucks the extra beautiful stuff carefully in a qiankun pouch and asks, “Everyone ready?”

nods and salutes and murmurs of agreement

He briefly channels a completely different work of fiction: “Let’s go steal a small populace.” 

It’s actually...very easy. “Isn’t the young lord’s wedding today?” asks the man left in charge while Jin Qixian, being a cousin of the family, is at that wedding. “Why aren’t you at that?”

“I didn’t practice my saber for a week and my brother got sooo angry.” Nie Huaisang pouts. “He forbade me from the party of the year, and gave me a job to do instead! It’s not fair - I’d be happy to do a favor for san-ge any other day!”

The lieutenant eyes the orders he’s been handed, in Jin Guangyao’s handwriting with Jin Guangyao’s signature. “Well, it does all seem to be in order.” He waves to the nearest guard. “Hey, start rounding up the prisoners - all of them!”

Nie Huaisang had two months, a lot of correspondence, and a great deal of practice imitating art styles. He’d been able to forge his own brother’s handwriting since was twelve - Jin Guangyao’s was much easier. Much neater

Nie Huaisang spotted the guard who’d been kind enough to let Granny come with A-Yuan, that first time, and pointed at him. “Make sure you get all the old people and babies and stuff, too! Anyone who can’t come on their own!

As Wens start to gather (be gathered) in the main square, most of the Nie cultivators clear a space and sketch out a large array in blood, a little from each cultivator’s hand. It’s wide enough for about forty people to stand in. When it’s done, Nie Huaisang nods to a disciple standing to the side with a bow. She leans back and shoots an arrow with a red ribbon into the sky. It vanishes in a spark of golden light

one of Nie Sect’s messenger arrows. It will land at Wen Qing’s feet in Qinghe to let her know that they’re on their way, and she can be ready with whatever medical care and reassurances she wants

He claps to get the muttering, anxious crowd’s attention, and can’t quite help but grin as he gets it. He gestures to the bloody array, reminiscent of a teleportation talisman on a grand scale. “All right, who wants to leave this terrible place where everyone hates you in exchange for a new terrible place where everyone hates you, travel by serving as the first test subjects of the Yiling Patriarch’s new mass-teleportation array?!”

[the hacker]

(a jest. Wei Wuxian definitely tested it first, on himself and a bunch of rabbits and himself+Jiang Cheng (in that order.) He promised.)

it’s a little out-of-character, but most of the guards who react just laugh meanly. And the Wens, hell yes, have been prepped. A handful protest, beg mercy or insist that this is their home, but for the most part, Nie Huaisang can recognize amateur acting when he sees it

thank goodness - they need a ratio of at least 1 participating cultivator to every 6 civilians to power the array, or the Nie cultivators supporting it from outside will exhaust themselves immediately

as the first group is going, a burst of light bright enough to blind, an arrow falls from the sky to Nie Huaisang’s feet. The note attached is from Liu Lifang: won’t take Lianfang-zun’s orders

aw, hell. He hesitates - another arrow lands, a green ribbon on the end. The first batch of Wens arrived safely in Qinghe

he passes both arrows to Zhao Huandi and murmurs, “I’m going to go sort this out. Make sure everyone gets through, stop it if something goes wrong with the teleportation. If something goes wrong with the Wens or the Jins...try not to kill anyone”

Zhao Huandi bows, turns and immediately starts shouting for the array to be checked for the next batch. Nie Huaisang makes some hasty, whining excuses to the Jin lieutenant, pulls out another teleportation, and-

arrives in the filthy refugee/prisoner city with a bit of the ache of an over-taxed golden core. He rests his hands on his knees for a moment, catching his breath

Still better than sword travel. He’s going to bother Wei Wuxian for these all the time, now

the woman left in charge in Jin Guangchao’s place is engaged in a staring glaring contest with Liu Lifang at their supervisory office. But have their arms crossed and the tension is so thick they’re both clearly itching to slice it with a sword

Nie Huaisang tumbles through the door with a whining, “What? Why did you call me?”

“I actually sent my message to Sect Leader Nie...” says Liu Lifang, with masterful confusion

“Well, he sent me,” Nie Huaisang complains. He turns to the other woman. “What’s the big deal? Da-ge said we should have a note for san-ge - that is, Jin Guangyao, Lianfang-zun - ”

She scowled even more darkly. “My orders come from Jin Guangchao and his from Sect Leader Jin Guangshan, not from Jin-zhongzhi’s bastard son”

[split-second thinking]

“Oh, but Guangyao-ge really knows what he’s doing,” said Nie Huaisang, wide-eyed. “He was so good at organizing everything, before da-ge had to banish him that one time” Bait...

“’So good’?” she challenges. “Then why’d he get banished at all?”

“Oh, you must have heard of my brother’s temper,” Nie Huaisang whines. “He gets so angry when one little thing goes wrong, and then Meng Yao - back then - did a pretty big thing...you’re so lucky Sect Leader Jin is more forgiving.” Hook...

“It would be terrible if Jin Guangyao did something to so anger Sect Leader Jin,” she said thoughtfully.

“I’m glad I doubt he ever would!” He gestured to the forged papers in Liu Lifang’s hand. “And as you can see, we have direct orders from him for you to release these prisoners into Nie Sect’s care - so won’t you do your duty and obey, so I can get back to my party?”

Do your duty, the orders themselves aren’t your responsibility, they’re his. The Jin cultivator nods slowly, then bows sharply, formal and faux-friendly. “Of course, Young Master Nie. How good of you to help your brother like this.”

Sinker.

(also not the worst idea, actually. a little dissension thrown into the Jin clan would be great)

Once again, most of the Wens are almost more willing the queue up than the guards are to make them, though many do blanch at the twenty-foot teleportation array drawn in blood (maximum power for minimal cost, Wei Wuxian had explained). A few are genuinely terrified of leaving; a few are almost certainly just enjoying the drama

a young man, as grubby as the rest and face hidden behind a shy curtain of hair, steps into the array without a flinch, and gives Nie Huaisang a subtle thumbs up. He waves back, just as underhanded, and lets slip a relieved sigh as he mentally crosses out “accidentally got her brother killed and/or captured/tortured/etc” on the list of reasons Wen Qing might kill him one day

[the thief spy]

(it hadn’t been easy to convince her to let him go in the first place. but really, Wen Ning was quick-thinking, trustworthy to all who met him, and good at staying hidden when he needed to. and they needed the Wens helping power the arrays, not to mention just not putting up a fight - everything going much quicker with word spread as to what was really happening. And, Nie Huaisang prided himself, it was just a little bit kinder)

this city’s worth were half gone to Qinghe when another messenger arrow landed at his feet in a burst of golden light. A purple ribbon - First Disciple Han Xiaoshi was done at Qiongqi Pass

she’d taken a much higher percentage of skilled warriors (not that all Nie Sect cultivators weren’t skilled warriors) than the other groups, as well as a “signed” note from Jin Guangyao. The work camp at Qiongqi Pass was the place Nie Huaisang least minded if the rescue of the Wens turned into a fight with the Jins. Sixth Uncle had taken nearly as long to get back into good health as Nie Mingjue, and he hadn’t liked hte way the inspectors smiled

[the hitter]

a few minutes later, a blue-ribboned arrow meant the first Qishan group was all through, too. Nie Huaisang and Liu Lifang’s group was the last to finish

they went with the last batch. One disciple stayed behind to clean it up and fly home - no point in sharing the Yiling Patriarch’s proprietary inventions with Jin Sect if they didn’t have to

the mass teleportation array is much worst than the single-use talisman. Nie Huaisang feels like he’s been turned upside-down and inside-out, and wrung out like a wet cloth besides. Golden core, more like yellowish pith. He does his best to stay standing

he’s knocked flat by the impact of a small mass slamming into his shins at high speed. “Sang-ge! Sang-ge! You didn’t say everyone was going to be at the wedding! Was it fun? Where are your pretty clothes?”

“My extra pretty clothes are in my qiankun bag, A-Yuan.” He pushed himself to sit up, and attempts to distangle the toddler from his legs. “Which is good, because you’re getting my normal pretty clothes all dirty on the ground!”

A-Yuan squeezed him even tighter, to show that nobody was the boss of him, then sprang away with his hands behind his back, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. That, too, lasted for about half a second before the boy was bouncing in place again. “Did you know that Uncle Four is here now, and Auntie Three, and Zhui Li and Mengmeng and Han Yao got a puppy - ”

“A-Yuan, stop harassing the poor man!” Granny hurried up behind him at a much slower pace than a toddler could manage. She bows, over A-Yuan-head, eyes shining. “Young Master Nie has done a great service for us this day. You should be saying thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, dreaming briefly of sliding a sword through Jin Guangshan’s throat. He forces himself to stand - the world has mostly stopped swimming - and pulls her upright, and pokes A-Yuan with his foot so he follows suit. “A-Yuan was just giving me a report - yes, we’re the last batch!” he calls to a cultivator approaching with a querulous expression. “You’d better send an arrow to da-ge to tell him that it’s all okay!”

Second Disciple Ling Jiaoshi nods and scribbles out a note, and hands it to a junior trailing behind him with a bow and arrow

behind them, around them, about five hundred Wens and Wen-associated people are milling around a deep valley tucked into Qinghe’s mountains. Most are avoiding the three great arrays painted in blood in the center of a some fields, mirrors to the ones in Qishan and Qiongqi Pass, though the landing sites will be inactive with their pairs destroyed. Many are exclaiming to see family and friends again, or looking around in wary uncertainty, or both. The main source of order is being imposed by the multiple triage tents, sorting out who needs medical attention and who just needs a blanket and hearty meal. Nie Huaisang can hear the Chief Physician yelling at someone in the distance

A-Yuan tugs on his hand and repeats accusatorially, “You didn’t say everyone was going to be at the wedding! That must have been so big! Are we all staying with Sang-ge and Miss Yi now? And Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning and Uncle Nie-Who-Needs-Quiet?” His eyes widen and he tugs even harder. “Did you bring new candy?!”

Nie Huaisang laughs and pulls from one pocket a silk flag in brilliant red, filched from the wedding decorations. “No, but I did get material for a new fan. Do you want to help me paint it?”

To be concluded with a brief epilogue!

[a-green-onion]

The He*archate vs Umberto Eco’s “Ur-Fascism”

ok it looks like I haven’t already done this, so! A lot of fictional Evil Empires use the visuals of fascism (iirc the Star Wars original trilogy did this), but not all of them follow through on making the Empire substantially fascist in ideology and practice. Machineries of Empire certainly has fascist visual components, with its regiments of black-shirted soldiers. Umberto Eco, a writer who grew up in Italy under Mussolini, wrote an essay about growing up under that regime and his ideas about key features of fascist and fascist-like movements (I’ll link it in a reblog, I don’t want Tumblr eating this post. I really recommend it, it’s very accessible and well-written). I want to see how much the he*archate correlates with these. It’s easy to get caught up in all the flashy space battles and gory exotic tortures, but YHL is very into military history, and that’s one reason his despotic regimes work so well--they’re taken from real life.

This is horribly incomplete because in my reread I’m only about halfway through Ninefox Gambit, but...I wanna Post.

An important note to start: Eco uses “fascism”, the name for Italian political movement, to refer to a variety of different totalitarian regimes and philosophies, because “fascism had no quintessence. Fascism was a fuzzy totalitarianism, a collage of different philosophical and political ideas, a beehive of contradictions.” Further, “Fascism became an all-purpose term because one can eliminate from a fascist regime one or more features, and it will still be recognizable as fascist.” Thus, the common characteristics he lists are not features of every fascist movement, and are often features of non-fascist repressive movements. The he*archate does not have all these features, but I think it makes sense to analyze it as a fascist empire.

Without further ado:

1. The cult of tradition, including syncretic occultism. “As a consequence, there can be no advancement of learning. Truth has been already spelled out once and for all, and we can only keep interpreting its obscure message” (Eco).

The he*archate does not do this. As I pointed out in an earlier post, there are no foundational religious beliefs behind the High Calendar. No holy texts, no prophets, just a way of life, a set of practices, and endless heresies.

2. Rejection of modernism. “Even though Nazism was proud of its industrial achievements, its praise of modernism was only the surface of an ideology based upon Blood and Earth (Blut und Boden)” (Eco).

I don’t think the he*archate does this? I might be forgetting something though, feel free to chime in.

3. Action for action’s sake. (Eco)

Kel Kel Kel Kel Kel.

4. Inability to tolerate analysis. “Disagreement is treason.” (Eco)

Yeah that’s precisely how the High Calendar functions.

5. “Ur-Fascism grows up and seeks for consensus by exploiting and exacerbating the natural fear of difference. The first appeal of a fascist or prematurely fascist movement is an appeal against the intruders.”

So, we don’t get to see much of the heptarchate in its earliest forms, and what we do see is in the third book, which I don’t remember super well. I think the he*archate does this, but it’s more obvious how in the context of Eco’s points 5 and 9.

6. “Derives from individual or social frustration” and features an “appeal to a frustrated middle class.”

Again, this talks more about how fascism begins than how it continues. The he*archate is an established, stable totalitarian empire, not a burgeoning movement (which is interesting because by rights this house of cards should have collapsed centuries ago). It would be interesting to look at how the hexarchate uses propaganda but uhhh iirc that’s mostly in the second and third books and I don’t remember them that well.

7. Nationalism, and the obsession with a plot, both as an outside and an inside threat. 

Reflected in how the heretics (an inside plot) are iirc assumed to be aligned with the Hafn (an outside threat). See also point 9.

8. “The followers must feel humiliated by the ostentatious wealth and force of their enemies. [...] However, the followers must be convinced that they can overwhelm the enemies. Thus, by a continuous shifting of rhetorical focus, the enemies are at the same time too strong and too weak. Fascist governments are condemned to lose wars because they are constitutionally incapable of objectively evaluating the force of the enemy.”

...I think the he*archate might win too many wars for this to be applicable?

9. “Pacifism is trafficking with the enemy [...] life is permanent warfare. This, however, brings about an Armageddon complex. Since enemies have to be defeated, there must be a final battle, after which the movement will have control of the world. But such a “final solution” implies a further era of peace, a Golden Age, which contradicts the principle of permanent war. No fascist leader has ever succeeded in solving this predicament.”

The he*archate absolutely does live in a state of permanent war, against heresy which is everywhere. The he*archate seems to have solved this predicament by achieving a placid, high standard of living for the majority of its citizenry, contingent upon those citizens’ complicity in the ritual torture of prisoners of this “war.” Thus, every citizen is both invested and involved in the fighting and encouraged to identify with its sacrifices, but also able to live in a true golden age. I’ve always thought about this aspect of the he*archate as in conversation with Ursula K. LeGuin’s short story “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas,” but that’s an essay for another day.

10. Contempt for the weak and popular elitism. “Every citizen belongs to the best people of the world, the members of the party are the best among the citizens, every citizen can (or ought to) become a member of the party. But there cannot be patricians without plebeians. In fact, the Leader, knowing that his power was not delegated to him democratically but was conquered by force, also knows that his force is based upon the weakness of the masses; they are so weak as to need and deserve a ruler. Since the group is hierarchically organized (according to a military model), every subordinate leader despises his own underlings, and each of them despises his inferiors. This reinforces the sense of mass elitism.”

This one isn’t an obvious component, but I think it’s present, especially looking at how the Kel talk about “crashhawks”. I’m going to keep a closer eye out for it as I reread.

Cheris is “un-Kel” because she cannot do this. One of the first things we see Cheris do is order her soldiers into a mildly heretical formation to keep them alive, and we see again and again how well she knows, respects, and cares for the people and servitors under her command. 

On the flip side, Kujen is able to become the system’s architect precisely because he despises his inferiors, and sees everyone as an inferior. As we learn in the third book, this does not come naturally to him, but inducing this state of mind in himself is necessary for his success.

11. “Everybody is educated to become a hero. [...] This cult of heroism is strictly linked with the cult of death. [...] In non-fascist societies, the lay public is told that death is unpleasant but must be faced with dignity; believers are told that it is the painful way to reach a supernatural happiness. By contrast, the Ur-Fascist hero craves heroic death, advertised as the best reward for a heroic life. The Ur-Fascist hero is impatient to die. In his impatience, he more frequently sends other people to death.”

Kel Kel Kel Kel.

12. “Machismo (which implies both disdain for women and intolerance and condemnation of nonstandard sexual habits, from chastity to homosexuality).”

The he*archate absolutely, emphatically does not do this. Plenty of gender equality, plenty of nonstandard sexual behavior. 

But! There is another component to point 12. “Since even sex is a difficult game to play, the Ur-Fascist hero tends to play with weapons—doing so becomes an ersatz phallic exercise.” This might be relevant to the commonness of dueling as a form of entertainment, both as a participant and a spectator sport? I don’t think dueling is particularly eroticized but it’s certainly linked to exchanges of power.

13. Selective populism. “In a democracy, the citizens have individual rights, but the citizens in their entirety have a political impact only from a quantitative point of view—one follows the decisions of the majority. For Ur-Fascism, however, individuals as individuals have no rights, and the People is conceived as a quality, a monolithic entity expressing the Common Will. Since no large quantity of human beings can have a common will, the Leader pretends to be their interpreter. Having lost their power of delegation, citizens do not act; they are only called on to play the role of the People. Thus the People is only a theatrical fiction.”

Not a strong theme in MoE, but arguably, this is how the calendar operates: on the Will of the People, carefully channeled by the appropriate authorities.

Also, not strictly relevant, but everyone needs to see this line: “There is in our future a TV or Internet populism, in which the emotional response of a selected group of citizens can be presented and accepted as the Voice of the People.” Hm.

14. Newspeak. “All the Nazi or Fascist schoolbooks made use of an impoverished vocabulary, and an elementary syntax, in order to limit the instruments for complex and critical reasoning. But we must be ready to identify other kinds of Newspeak, even if they take the apparently innocent form of a popular talk show.”

Again, I’d like to take another look at the propaganda that gets sent out in later books to talk about this properly! The Kel make heavy internal use of euphemisms, but that’s not quite the same thing.

***

Anyway, that was fun, and I hope everyone learned something about how fascism emerges! I encourage you to read the entire essay, chew on its ideas a bit, think about if they apply to other fictional words and to real life.

[writefightandflightclub]

Rebelle of the ball

Poe x fem reader (mainly so the pun worked, sorry gender-neutral readers!)

Author’s note: this my very loose riff on a traditional princess story- particularly that “princess moment” when a guy sees his girl all dressed up walking down a staircase and falls hard / realises his existing feelings. Reader’s POV is that if Poe doesn’t fall for her tonight, in this dress, then it’s never going to happen, is it? This fic is written from Poe’s POV which was a different kinda challenge altogether. Also, I didn’t agonise over this one so sorry if it’s no good. Let me know how I did, k?

Summary: You and Poe have to go on an undercover mission to a diplomat’s ball at Canto Bight casino to gather intel for the Resistance. While you pose as an esteemed Princess, will Poe turn out to be your Prince Charming?

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, mild sex references. 

GIF by @vivienvalentino

Poe is nervous and pacing. He’s read and reread the briefing package sent to him by the ops team. He’s gotten dressed in his black and gold suit. He’s checked his slicked-back hair in the mirror more than he would usually care to. Now he’s waiting on you. And he’s not a particularly patient man.

He raps on the door to your adjoining suite one more time. “What now?!” you hiss through the door, and he sucks air through his teeth. He’s sure you sound even more angry than last time he checked-in with you.

“Are you sure you don’t want a hand, Princess?”

“Fuck off, Prince Charming.” you shout through the door. Charming, indeed.

You’ve been in there at least two hours, bedecking yourself in some form of complicated finery for the evening. A delegation of Resistance members had managed to do some stellar work off-planet, securing a sponsor for the mission. Which -essentially- meant that you had both been hooked up with outfits grotesque and gaudy enough to fit in at tonight’s delegate’s ball in Canto Bight; the casino and playground of the rich and powerful. Only the finest and most elaborate costuming would do to convince guests that you truly were an esteemed Princess of Pavia-9, as you claimed to be. And only then could you get the intel on arms drops you so badly needed to intercept the shipments and topple the Order’s plans.

A fresh wave of nausea hits Poe when he thinks about what you’re about to do. Sure, the pretentious assholes who frequented Canto Bight weren’t battle-hardened like you. But they were abundant enough in number, and had pleny of hired muscle around for things to go royally wrong if they caught on to the fact you were an imposter. No, Poe isn’t a patient man at all. He doesn’t like waiting on you because it allows him plenty of time to plan ahead; “planning ahead”, in his book, is also known as an extended opportunity to ruminate on all the ways things can go wrong. Characteristically, he’d much rather just get out there and wing it. To worry is to suffer twice, and all that.

When you eventually emerge from your suite your expressjon and your body language are impartial, neutral. But you twirl gently, and ask “well?”

Poe looks you up and down and back up again. A gold, elaborate sculpture of a crown adorns your head. Your hair is folded in intricate petals. Your face is caked in so much make-up you barely look like yourself. Your body is enrobed in an ostentatious jewel blue dress and cape, complete with flamboyant shoulder decorations and arm cuffs.

“You look...” he can see you holding your breath, awaiting his reaction, but this is all he has. “You look ridiculous.”

Despite your best attempt at bravado you are visibly upset. “I’m not supposed to look ridiculous, I’m supposed to look good.”

“No, you’re supposed to look rich, trust me, there’s a difference.”

Poe considers reminding you not to take it personally. That you are beautiful. But it’s not relevant for the mission and it’s probably not the kinda thought that -as your Commander- he should be entertaining anyway.

His eyes flick back over you again. “Can you run in those shoes?” he asks, genuinely concerned looking at the height of them.

“Poe. Do I look like a Princess?”

“Don’t go getting ideas below your station.” he smiles at you gently, trying to mask the nerves which prod insistently at his chest, not allowing him to forget the risks. You look like a Princess, for sure. He just thinks that Princess is a bit of a step down for you. Although he does know one Princess who turned out to be pretty badass, most he’d encountered were detached and self-absorbed, outsourcing the true cost of their lifestyle to those who stood to suffer most. 

“Poe!” you yell, scowling now. He concedes that you need some actual reassurance rather than his loose platitudes.

“They’ll buy it. 100%. I promise.” Then he adds, “Do you have your blaster? Communicator?” You nod and flash him your thigh, showing where it’s strapped. He tries not to visibly react to the flash of skin but there’s something he finds very hot about the holster tightened around your leg.

“Good. Now. How do I look?”. He straightens his tie and opens his palms to you, presenting himself.

You look him up and down. “You’re doing a great job of looking like a rich asshole.” He had to figure there’d be no way you’d compliment him after his own reation. But, he can tell by the flare of your nostrils -and the areas of him that your eyes travel to- that you like what you see. He prays you do a better job of hiding your emotions when you’re in front of the crowd.

On that note, he clasps your hands in his, conscious of his clammy grip, and looks deeply into your eyes.”Are you ready to do this?” He searches for any hesitation and finds only a determined resolve.

Poe offers his next words measuredly, carefully, recapping the plan.“You know the mark. Let him come to you. Find out what we need, find me, and we get out. Provided the bribes have worked, the real Princess will be delayed at the checkpoint for 35 minutes. That’s all we’ve got and then we need to move.”

“This’ll be fun.” You smile; a wild, improvident look in your eyes. Poe figures the adrenaline must be kicking-in and overriding some of your nerves and better judgement. Fine then, you’ll both just wing it.

He’s certainly done enough worrying about this. He sincerely hopes that will mean he has saved you the trouble of having to suffer.

***

These people, this place; it’s all grotesque. If this is luxury, Poe has already had an excess of the excess.

Everything is obsence. The thought of these people getting rich by dealing arms, wreaking havoc on innocent people - all to catwalk their garish outfits and passively agressively outbrag one-another at champagne mixers - makes his blood boil. But, he must refrain from blasting anyone just yet.

Poe is posing as a middling member of the Galactic Senate from a planet with plausible ties to the old imperials. Nothing risky enough that anyone should question him too insistently. So, he mingles amongst the throng of the crowd, rubbing shoulders with tasteless, vulgar individuals and trying to keep his fists and weapons to himself. Groups of men stop him, with faux interest, seemingly only to boast about pointless items within their possession as if they mattered, and then to dismissively describe arms deals which contributed to massacres as though the lives taken were of zero consequence. The only thing preventing Poe from blasting half of these assholes is the satisfying thought that you’re about to dupe them and they have no kriffing idea. It makes a delicious smile spread over his face, which these over-indulged narcissists mistake for tacit approval, of course.

Finally, the announcement sounds out informing the room that the arrival of the Princess of Pavia-9 is imminent. The guests, noticeably abuzz, seem intrigued to finally catch a glimpse of the famously beautiful, ruthless, and reculsive monarch-in-waiting. The throng move to congregate at the bottom of the central staircase, ready to watch you make your entrance. Poe joins the thick of the crowd, taking a position off to the side, flanked by obtrusive flower displays, imposing gilded statues, and gaudy champagne towers. The orchestral music is paused, and, as everyone awaits your appearance, you could hear a droid-bolt drop.

Poe’s heart is in his mouth, a slight taste of bile as he readies himself for your moment of truth. His legs are shaking a little with nerves now, a sheen of sweat developing on his brow. You really are surrounded by people who would not hesitate to kill you, or worse. Then, he sees you appear at the opening of the stairs, the jewel blue of your dress in stark contrast to the gold staircase.

Well, you’ve made it this far, at least. Hopefully you can pull-off being a Princess for half an hour more. Poe looks nervously around to see if the crowd are buying it. Well, he never should have doubted you.

The crowd is enraptured, looking at you in awe. There is an audible ripple of excitement and nervous energy which spreads across the room as they receive their first glimpse of you, and the ripple of bows which follow feels like more than a simple act of obeying custom; it feels like they are bowing because you inspire them to. Because your presence commands it. You move deliberately, confidently, gracefully down the staircase.

A woman to Poe’s side whispers to her companion “She’s breathtaking.” Poe’s face can’t help but spread into a grin. Not even because they’re buying-it (although that is an untold relief). Not even because of the compliment. More so, because everyone here in awe of you is missing the point entirely. Maybe they like that ridiculous outfit, the power and status you appear to convey, your body in that form-fitting dress -which, ok, now that’s he’s looking he admits you carry off well. But no, Poe looks at you and he knows the secret. He knows you’re majestic because of the way you just bravely, cooly, commandingly walked into a room full of your enemies and still owned it, not giving off a hint of nerves. He knows you’re majestic because you were prepared to risk yourself not for your own gain or status; you did so for the good of the Resistance. For all that, you are more beautiful than any self-regarding poser in this room. You’re fucking baller.

You make it down the staircase without a stumble and the orchestra start-up again. Poe sees you begin to track through the crowd, people simutaneoulsy flocking to be close to you and shrinking back from your steely and arresting presence. He knows your mark will soon beeline for you. The transaction is well-rehearsed and Poe is confident in what you can do. All being well, you will rendezvous with him in the hallway by the service exit in 15 minutes.

Itching to whisk you out of there, perhaps overly keen not to lose sight of you in the crowd, Poe lingers a little too long in just the wrong spot. Edging close enough to the periphery of the party to arouse suspicion.

“Excuse me. Can I assist you?” It’s one of the security officers the casino has assigned to protect the Princess, now that’s you. He sidles over, chest puffed out, towering over Poe.

“No, thank you.”

“Can I see your credentials?” 

Poe flashes his best, affronted-rich-person face, but subterfuge really isn’t his strongpoint. He’s just the getaway pilot. “How dare you...” he begins.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you notice him and the brewing confrontation. He sees you subtly -via a thread of greetings and kisses to your hand- trying to weave through the crowd and reduce the distance between you both, in case of the need for a quick exit. He throws you a somehwat helpless, sidelong glance.

And then, it gets worse. Poe guesses that the real Princess’ ship has made its way through the checkpoint early, as the guard’s communicator crackles to life, a panicked voice raising a very valid concern about how the Princess could possibly already be there. That will, emphatically, be your cue to leave then.

“Oh, shit.”

Poe whistles loudly, his pinkies in his mouth, and yells indiscrimately into the crowd. “Let’s roll, Princess!”

You are close enough that he hears you exclaim, “oh fuck”, before push-kicking another guard right into the orchestra, and he hears them landing in a dischord of groans and reverberating strings. He sees a flash of jewel blue as hands grab at your robe, which you abandon, throwing it over the head of one of your pursuers. This buys you an extra split second to slip away as you elbow your way through the crowd of -thankfully- sufficiently confused delegates. The crowd are startled enough that the path of the other guards remains blocked, a few beelining and jostling through towards you from all corners of the room, sending people and drinks and champagne towers toppling.

Poe uses the distraction to land a respectable hook to the chin of the security officer who had decided to accost him and you skid to a halt in front of him, in time to follow his hook up with a solid elbow to the guard’s face.

And then, to him; “We royally fucked up, what can I say?”

He makes a mental note to tell you how fucking badass you are, but that can wait.

“It’s just a slight hiccup, Princess. You ready to run?”

You lift the hem of your dress to reveal your old, worn flight boots in place of the heels you’d donned earlier.

Poe beams in delight “You changed your shoes,”

You grin back “I changed my shoes.”

Poe guides you urgently out of the service exit with a hand on your back and you head out first. You both know where you’re running, having scoped out the speeders earlier in the evening. You can’t let the security forces get there before you. You both leg it, running and half-sliding down the steep hilside until your lungs burn and your legs shake, your blasters now drawn. You haven’t made it far enough by the time blaster shots begin to lick at your heels.Thankfully the ground has begun to flatten out a little or with their higher vantage point -and your disadvantage point- you’d be done for.

Thinking quickly, Poe crouches and takes a position behind a crumbling bit of wall. He needs you away from their line of fire, now. “Get to the speeders, I’ll stay here and pick a few off.” You don’t even hesitate to leave him there to be all heroic, which he chooses to believe is a sign you trust his judgement. Trusting you also, to come back for him, Poe focusses at the task at hand, dropping a few of the security team as they make their way down the hill. He notes with vexation that crafts have taken to the skies already, searchlights combing through the long grasses.

Distracted by the whirr of one such craft as it comes unnervingly close overhead, he doesn’t spot one of the pursuers until they have already cleared the brow of the nearest hill, looking equally shocked to find Poe crouched behind the makeshift cover as they plant their feet and recover from their jump.

The split seond needed before recognition hits is the only reason Poe hasn’t been blasted yet. It’s also the reason neither of them see or hear you approach on the looted speeder, given the additional cover of the noisy craft overhead. At least, Poe’s adversary doesn’t notice you until it’s far too late. You steer the landbike towards him, your golden headdress now being yielded in one fist, like a goddess riding into battle, as you straddle the vehicle. You sock the guard in the back of the head with your crown, the momentum of your strike knocking him out cold. You toss the now useless adornment to the floor and it rolls down to land at Poe’s feet. The guard too wavers and then drops to his knees in what feels like slow motion, rolling down the hill limply.

“That’s it. Bow down to your Princess, you fucker.”

See. Fucking baller.

Poe is almost inspired to fall to his knees too.

He looks up at you from the lower ground. You have a split in your dress up to your thigh, leaving your oh so practical flight boots and blaster holster on show. Your hair is a mess and a cut seethes on your lip. This is it. This is the moment the force of his feelings for you hits him. It’s like a sucker punch. He relates a little too heavily to the guard you’ve just KO’d.

“Can you stop gawping and get the fuck on, Poe!”

Your command rips him back to reality and he clambers over to the speeder, throwing his leg over and shuffling close to you, hands circling around your waist.

Now it’s just a small matter of making it down to the secluded cove where the ship is hidden and he can finally make himself a bit more useful.

“Don’t let go!” you shout above the throttle of the engine as the vehicle accelerates with a jolt.

No, he certainly doesn’t plan on it.

***

You make it back to the ship, tumbling through the doors with a flood of relieved laughter.

“See, I told you that would be fun,” you grin deliciously.

Poe vaults into the pilot’s seat and fiddles with various nozzles, levers, and dials, flying manually until he’s sure it’s safe enough to jump into hyperdrive. He ditches the Cantonican ships with ease - he’s one helluva piot after all- and you settle into the chair next to him to jump straight on comms.

“General. One slight hiccup, but we did it. Listen, the shipment is on Malomir, they have an outpost there amongst some old salt mines. It’s the centre for their whole distribution and it’s weak at the top peak where the two ridges meet- that’s where there was a cave in of the main shaft a couple of decade ago. I’m patching coordinates through now, but hit it hard and fast, there’s no way that they can move anything much out of there before we can strike. We light it up that whole thing is going to blow. Let’s take them down!”

“Copy that, Major, Commander. We’ll move now. Well done.” Poe can hear the smile in Leia’s voice through the comms, can hear celebration in the background of the briefing rom.

“Thank you, General, copy that.”

After that, Poe breathes out a big sigh of relief, of elation. This victory could save a lot of lives and really slow the Order as well as a lot of warmongers down. Pleasingly, it would also hit them where they understood too- their wallets. But, there’s also another layer of joy mixed in. You are safe. A significant victory.

Poe jumps the ship into hyperdrive which allows you to sit back for a moment. You handled it, this mission, but it can’t have been a breeze. You’re good at hiding the truth (and extracting it too)- it’s part of your skillset, but Poe knows you well enough to see through your cool exterior, or at least he likes to think so. You are quiet as you take a moment to look out at the blue and white light slipping by, letting your muscles untense. He let’s you have it, uninterrupted. Poe regards you ardently, the light casting an ethereal glow over your features, and over the contours of your body. In that jewel blue gown, it’s almost as if you are made of starlight. He smiles softly to himself as he realises how disappointed that crowd back at Canto Bight are gonna be when they get their “real” Princess. Surely nothing could compare to you.

When you turn back, you see that Poe has spun around in his chair, legs spread and hands clasped behind his head.

He’s still looking at you. Still gawping, he realises, but he suddenly doesn’t care if you know it.

“What?” you ask bashfully, recognising the blatant admiration on his face.

“Now you look good.” 

“I do? Not ridiculous?”

He smiles. He’s going to be paying for that comment for a long time, isn’t he? “Yeah, like you usually do. Badass, gorgeous, fucking majestic.” His voice is soft, genuine. He scopes your reaction to the compliment, but you don’t seem to bristle. That’s good, because he has a lot more where that came from.

“Well,” you venture, “if I’m being honest you look pretty good in that suit.”

“I know, I saw you looking.” There’s a beat. “I’d look better out of it.”

“I’ll bet, you goof.”

Again, he’s pleased to see that you don’t seem entirely averse to the suggestion. In fact, you come to sit on the arm of his chair, that gorgeous split extending up your thigh again.

“Seriously though, I didn’t mean to offend you earlier. Those people in there, they’re ugly. No matter how they dress it up. But you, you’re ...” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and with you so close he can barely get his words out anymore. Maybe he’s a little distracted.

“Uh-huh. I get it, Poe.” Your lips quirk up at the corners. “But are you also liking this dress a little more now?” You might have noticed the way his eyes are sweeping approvingly over your body, his words becoming less and less coherent.

“Oh yeah, it’s working for me a lot more out of context.”

“Good to know, Prince Charming.” you say with a gratified smile as you straddle him on the chair, thighs spread, lips hovering close to him. “Now how about we make-out and then go blow some stuff up on Malomir?”

“Anything you say, Princess. I’ve seen what happens to your disloyal subjects and I don’t want to suffer the same fate.”

Poe might be about to have his best day ever, he thinks.

You pulled off being a Princess for the night, but you are most definitely his Queen- he hopes, for a long time.