#though realistically half of them are just the three of them looking bewildered

[sainthermelin]

more smtiv scribbles I may or may not finish

[nevertheless-moving]

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27 Part Two - Suicidal Misunderstanding AU

Continuation of this 

By the time the hovercar finally pulled into the temple, Obi-Wan���s tremors had mostly quieted. Cody awkwardly manhandled him out the vehicle door. Obi-Wan didn’t resist; he mostly seemed to be dealing with the overwhelming situation by refusing to open his eyes. 

“Master?” Cody absently noticed that Anakin’s robe was tied modestly, with no other layers peaking out underneath; wherever he was before Cody called, he had left half-dressed and in a hurry.

Obi-Wan started shaking again, burying his face into Cody’s pauldron.

“Yeesh- you’re really a wreck,” Anakin observed bluntly but not without sympathy. “Honestly, you’re taking all the fun out of the situation. What’s the point of getting drunk if you act so pathetic that your smug padawan can’t even mock you afterwards?” Anakin hesitantly laid a hand on his master’s shoulder.

It was uncertain whether it was the words or the touch that succeeding in garnering a positive response, but finally Kenobi seemed to pull himself together. With a deep breath, the high general straightened up, opening his eyes to look Skywalker square in the face. He continued to hold eye-contact, expression gradually shifting from steely resolve to open faced delight.

“ANAKIN!” Obi-Wan flung himself at his former padawan with obvious joy. “OH ANAKIN! IT’S YOU! IT’S REALLY YOU!” They staggered with the force of Obi-Wan’s enthusiastic bear hug.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Anakin managed to get out, shocked by his Master’s uncharacteristically loud and emotional greeting, as well as slightly breathless from the intense grip. Obi-Wan didn’t answer; he just held Anakin tighter. 

“Man, what did you drink?” he tried to ask instead, deciding to return the hug fully and deal with any later consequences later.

Obi-Wan shifted back enough to make eye-contact again. His brow furrowed in thought. “Just some Jawa beer to wash down the spice doses.”

“SPICE DOSES?!?” Cody and Anakin both shouted in alarm. Anakin grabbed at Obi-Wan’s face, examining the man’s pupils before pulling back his lip to look at his gums. “You don’t look like you’re dosed up. And the only thing you smell like is middling quality alcohol.” he concluded doubtfully. “Are you sure that’s what you took?”

Obi-Wan stopped to think again “The Jawas that sold it seemed pretty confident. I would be more likely to entertain the possibility that I was ripped off were you not standing here with me.”

“I- Wwhere- When would you have even bought spice from Jawas?” Anakin asked, exchanging bewildered looks with Commander Cody. 

“They seem to like stopping by my hut, even when I don’t have anything to steal or buy. I suppose there’s not many opportunities for sentient contact out on in the wastes,” He mused.

Anakin only looked more confused, reasonably confident that he would have known if Obi-Wan owed a home on Tatooine. 

“Heart rate was slightly elevated to normal on the ride over, sir.” Cody added dutifully. “Well within average human normal, and not consistent with spice use or alcohol poisoning.”

“His presence in the force is... strange,” Anakin said while patting Obi-Wan soothingly on the back. “I’d have to take him to the healers to confirm, but my best guess is he's having a bad reaction to something he drank. There are certain alcohols that can cause side-effects and unexpected reactions in force-sensitives. Though I can’t believe that after all the lectures he’s given me, he would be stupid enough to drink one.”

“He...did have an unknown mixed drink a bartender gave him on the house,” Cody said with a sinking sense of failure. “Could this have been a targeted attack?”

Skywalker clearly looked pissed at the idea “If it was, then that bartender committed an act of treason.” Only the fact that he was still supporting Ob-Wan’s weight (in what was rapidly approaching the second-longest hug they had ever shared) kept him from taking command of the troopers to interrogate a bartender. 

“Sir, do you want me to accompany you to medical and make a report?” Cody asked.

Anakin hesitated, thinking while Obi-Wan rested his chin on his former padawan’s shoulder. As amusing as the idea was in theory, he didn’t really want to humiliate a vulnerable, emotional Obi-Wan by dragging him through the heart of the temple to be gawked at and judged.

“No.” He finally decided, “Even if he somehow managed to miss the fact that he was being poisoned in a civilian bar, he’s more than capable of processing toxins on his own, and I’m more than capable of monitoring him overnight. We’ve got a full field med-kit in our quarters- I can take a blood sample tonight, and ask him what he wants to do with it once he sobers up in the morning.”

Obi-Wan readjusted slightly as Anakin shrugged, “It’s also possible that he just, you know, overdid it drinking, which isn’t anyone’s business but his own. I mean, he hasn’t exactly had the opportunity to cut loose when he’s a High General all the time; his tolerance might not have been where he was expecting.”

Cody saluted in acknowledgement of the command decision. He ruthlessly quashed any doubts, reminding himself that General Kenobi had, in fact, asked for General Skywalker by name, and Skywalker was likely to better informed on Jedi responses to alcohol. 

“Master, let’s get you to our quarters so you can sleep this off,” Anakin reluctantly pulled back from was now officially the longest hug Obi-Wan had ever given him. “Can you walk by yourself, or do you want me to help?”

The unusually peaceful smile Obi-Wan was wearing started to slide away. “Our quarters? Our quarters were destroyed. There’s nothing to find there now but ash,” he stated, as if gently reminding Anakin of a known tragedy.

Cody, still standing by, sucked in a breath.

“Besides,” he continued mater of factly, “You were barely ever in them at this point anyway. Even for a dream, it would be a lot more realistic for me to go to my quarters and sit in the dark trying to memorize casualty lists, while you’re out somewhere unknown, carousing with Padme presumably.”

“Carousing with Padme?! I - why would you- Master!” Anakin fumbled out, addressing the last point first before processing the rest.

“And is that seriously what you do when you have time off? Just sit and memorize the names of everyone who died during the war? That’s - that’s seriously sad Obi-Wan, we are talking about that when you sober up.” Not giving Obi-Wan the chance to defend his extremely sad hobby, Anakin plowed on. 

“And our quarters are fine, I know that- uh- I know I haven’t been around a lot, but I was just in there earlier today, they look practically the same as they did when I was a padawan. Whatever you saw, here and now - I promise you - here and now the temple is fine. We’ll talk about your vision or your hallucination once you sober up, I promise.” Anakin ended emphatically, gripping Obi-Wans shoulders and staring directly into his eyes.

The miniature rant seemed to work. 

“That sounds nice,” Obi-Wan said smiling, “I would love to see our old rooms- I know it didn’t really matter either way to you, but I always took comfort in the fact that you never bothered with requesting a new room after you were knighted. I know, I know that between how rarely we were temple based and Padme, it probably just didn’t cross your mind, but it was nice to have some tangible reminder of our connection, even as the war and the growing darkness stole everything else.”

Anakin truly didn’t know how to respond, the raw emotional honesty somehow even more painful than the crushing hug. Obi-Wan reached up to smooth back his hair like he was still a child. He then walked a few steps to face the extremely out-of-depth Commander Cody.

Not hesitating, Obi-Wan pulled Cody into a tender hug which he couldn’t help but lean into. The commander brought his arms up and around but hesitated to actually make contact, instead ghosting his hands along the general’s back.

“I always wanted to do that,” Obi-Wan whispers into Cody’s ear. “I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done; I never would have gotten through the war without you. I wish...I wish I could tell you that I consider you one of the best of men, and one of the best of friends. But... I can’t. Even if I abandoned my last mission to search you out, even if I succeeded in finding you, you would never allow me close enough to do this.”

Cody’s heart is racing, trying to decode the General’s words over the ringing white noise in his ears. He stops breathing entirely as Obi-Wan shifts to press their foreheads together, allowing him to focus entirely on the feel of the general’s breath, the sight of tears trickling again from red-rimmed eyes. “Goodbye, Cody.” he finally exhales.

And with that he turned and walked away, not looking back.

Next (Part Three)

[julemmaes]

The Seven Of Us

Cassian and Nesta Archeron modern au - morning cuddles

A/N: THIS. WAS. HAARD. AS FUCK TO WRITE. BUT IT IS FLUFF. A LOT OF IT. AND IT’S FOR MY ONE AND ONLY GIRL, NINA. I LOVE YOU HONEY AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN, I HOPE THIS DOES SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU HOW MUCH I APPRECCIATE YOU AND GUYS SEND PROMPTS FOR THIS AU CAUSE I’M ALREADY IMAGINING EVERYTHING POSSIBLE IN THIS UNIVERSE SO YEAH, ENJOY!!

Word count: 3,584

Nesta liked to sleep in late on the weekends. Especially on Sundays, when she was sure they wouldn't be busy and she could lounge in bed, under the comforter, without the dread of hearing her phone ring at any moment.

What Nesta didn't like was her insistent husband of no less than sixteen years caressing her bare side at an hour far too close to dawn after he'd had the audacity to keep her up all night for a good time.

"Cass." Nesta gave a first warning. She heard him chuckle behind her, but kept her eyes closed.

When the feather-light touch didn't stop tracing its path across her skin, tickling her side, she sighed, "Cass, stop."

She felt him move closer and the warmth radiating from his body was already starting to wrap around her. She could have fallen back asleep in half a second, but he had other plans. Her hand snapped to grasp his wrist and Cassian chuckled again, saying in a sleep-filled voice, "Sweetheart, you're squeezing too hard." with that he moved his fingers over her skin applying more pressure and up to her armpit, where she was particularly ticklish and Nesta jerked, accidentally making the back of her head collide with her husband's nose.

The reaction from both of them was instantaneous. Cassian grunted, turning away from her, bringing his hands to his nose, while Nesta whimpered, raising herself up on one elbow so she could glare at him.

He burst out laughing, trying not to make too much noise, but when he turned back around, his eyes were glazed with tears and he was rubbing the bridge of his nose, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger.

Nesta felt a little guilty. But only a little.

"I get that you like pain, but I thought you'd be a little more forgiving after tonight," he joked in a muffled voice from his hand, with an amused glint in his eyes. Nesta knew there would be an arrogant grin under that hand, showing the purely male satisfaction for what they had done.

The frown on her face deepened, but her cheeks flushed nonetheless at the memory of him blocking her airways to prevent everyone from hearing her come for the umpteenth time even down the street.

After all, as he had reminded her several times during their little game that lasted hours and hours, they weren't alone in that house either. She still insisted after so many years on receiving those lonely and sacred hours together with her husband, and Cassian always told her that they both deserved it, that with all the work they did during the week, they needed to feel the hands of the other on their bodies without anything or anyone disturbing them. The fact that they had to take advantage of the nighttime hours between Saturdays and Sundays didn't mean they would ever give up sex.

Nesta pressed her lips together in a thin line, "I would have been more forgiving if you hadn't decided to wake me up by torturing me," she whispered.

Cassian made a bewildered face, chuckling softly, "I was giving you an under arm massage, no torture." he pretended not to understand. Then he moved his hand to her side once more, pulling her flush against him, and that cocky smirk appeared on his lips, "Although you didn't seem to mind the torture so much last night either. I don't see what the big deal is about doing it now."

He was teasing her and she knew it.

Nesta let her head fall forward, pushing her forehead against his chest now resigned that she would never sleep through that morning, "Please stop."

His other arm wrapped around her waist as well, pulling her even more until she was completely lying on top of him. Nesta pouted upon feeling that he'd put on his pajama pants and, casting a quick glance at her body from over her shoulder, she noticed she was wearing a tank top and underwear.

She turned around smiling shyly at Cassian, "Thank you for putting clothes on me."

It often happened that their recreational activities would end up exhausting her and she would fall asleep soon after, too tired to even slip into a pair of panties and t-shirt for the night.

He smiled back at her, "I would never want anyone to walk into the room and be traumatized for life by seeing us naked and tangled under the covers."

She looked away, beginning to trace the lines of his tattoos, "Although," she brushed one of his pecs with her lips, "right now I would love for you to be naked."

Her mouth left faint kisses and bites in the places she knew were sensitive, and as she began to slide lower, with a clear goal in mind, she felt Cassian catch his breath before releasing the air through his nostrils.

His hands began to caress her back, in a very different way from what he was doing a few minutes before, "We can't." he murmured with a longing voice, taking her hips and blocking her thrusting movements.

Nesta lifted her head, breathing irregularly despite the fact that they hadn't even come close to her goal, and when she met his gaze, she knew what he was thinking. She sulked again, groaning, "I just want to be able to have sex whenever I want, how long until all this shit is over?"

Cassian's chest jerked repeatedly beneath her as he laughed, "Legally speaking, in fourteen years, my love." he pulled her up until their noses were touching. He caressed her cheek, brushing her mouth with his, "Realistically, it'll never end."

Nesta shook her head, "I hate you when you use logic." she whispered, kissing him properly. His lips parted and he moaned against her when Nesta made their tongues collide.

They broke away suddenly when they heard a laugh coming from down the hall. Cassian cackled as he saw Nesta's terrified expression, "If you hadn't been so sure of yourself eleven years ago, the sex would only be three years away now," he murmured, hurrying to speak when the sound of three pairs of rushing feet began to echo throughout the house, getting closer and closer.

Huffing annoyed that Cassian was right again, she pulled herself up on his lap, pressing her hips against his just out of spite and he groaned, biting down on a fist and closing his eyes. She smiled in satisfaction, shifting from on top of him.

The second Nesta settled back into her side with her back against the headboard, the door swung open and three little girls came screaming in excitedly. A beaming smile spread across the woman's face as she opened her arms wide, ready to welcome her daughters.

"Mommy!"

"Dada!"

Andra, oddly enough, was the first of the group and was the first to reach the bed, but with her only four years of age, she was still too short to make it onto the bed and Cassian, who was smiling mischievously at her and was ready to get up and help her, thanked every saint in heaven for his third-born, Nora, when she pushed her onto the mattress.

Celia, the second of the girls, was already at Nesta's feet and was now climbing through all the blankets to reach her mom.

"Come here, Lia," Nesta said to her, extending a hand. The little girl's tiny fingers tightened around hers and then the two were hugging each other in a bone-crashing hug, "Good morning mommy." murmured the little girl. Nesta kissed her forehead over and over again.

Nora was still helping Andra to walk on that unstable ground when Cassian pulled himself up to sit down - too impatient to wait until they would get to him on their own - and grabbed them both by the waist, pulling them onto him. The two little girls burst out laughing immediately when their daddy started giving them the same attention their mother was giving Celia.

"I had the strangest dream daddy!" cried the oldest one.

Cassian's eyes lit up at those words and as Celia settled herself astride Nesta's legs and laid her head between her breasts, wrapping her hips with her short arms, Andra had managed to escape her father's grasp and was smiling at her mom. She extended her little hands toward her and Nesta reached out to take the latest addition to the Navarro-Archeron family as well and settle her behind her older sister on her lap, but not before showering her with kisses.

"Oh yeah?" asked Cassian, turning Nora around so that she was looking at the other three as well, "Nothing bad I hope." he joked, looking at them all quickly with a funny grimace on his face.

Celia giggled and Cassian's head snapped in her direction. His smile grew even bigger and Nesta suddenly remembered why she had asked her husband for a second child almost eleven years ago. And then another. And another. And another.

Because of that look the man of her life reserved for each and every one of their children.

"You didn't give me any kisses, cutie," he pointed out to her. Celia pulled away from Nesta's chest and leaned in just enough for Cassian to leave a kiss on her nose. When everyone was back in their seats, Nora nodded excitedly.

"We were supposed to have a competition," she began, "and I was in the group with Ezra, Lia, and Dad, while Andra, Mom, and Cal were on the other team."

Now that the commotion was over and no one was moving on the bed, Nesta could get a good look at them. All three of them had what they called the barely-awake-wig on and she felt like laughing, but she restrained herself because she knew full well that if she even made a sound, Nora would start over to tell the dream.

In the common language it could be translated into "my hair is so tangled and knotted that it looks like a bird's nest" and the sight of their three daughters entering their room every Sunday looking like a bunch of strays never ceased to put a smile on Nesta's face.

"...And then Ezra called these huge animals that flew though they had butterfly wings and of course we got there first." she said proudly, high-fiving Cassian who had just raised his hand.

Nesta shook her head, "I'm sorry honey I didn't get where we were going?"

Nora huffed annoyed, crossing her arms over her chest and wearing a twin expression to her own, "To Terrasen, Mom."

Cassian nodded beside her, giving her a faux-offended look, "Yes, Nes, to Terrasen of course."

"Sorry potato, mom's just really tired," she brushed a hand across her face, "because dad kept her up all night," Nesta reminded, widening her eyes slightly at her husband.

Celia pulled herself up sharply, knocking Andra off balance who was leaning over her and fell over Nesta's legs, "Did you have a sleepover?" squealed Celia.

Cassian chuckled, reaching out to grab Andra and the little girl smiled at him in amusement. She started crawling towards him and Nora, "I don't have a dream." stammered the littlest one.

"Me neither baby." said Cassian to reassure her as he sat her down between him and Nesta.

Celia waved her little hands in midair, risking hitting her mom in the face and getting everyone's attention, "Why do you guys always have sleepovers and we never get to?"

Nesta frowned, "What do you mean you never have them?" she asked in amazement, "You're always at Aunt Gwyn's and Uncle Azriel's house." he pointed out to her.

Celia shook her head, snapping her tongue against her palate, "Yes but we never have them with you." she pouted, "Can we have one tonight?" she asked hopefully. Nora and Andra began to nod frantically as well. "And let's watch the princess and the frog!"

"I don't think so," said a voice from the door, "We own the television tonight and we have to watch that new movie on Prime."

"Good morning guys." Nesta smiled affectionately at her two sons, both obviously just waking up with their eyes half closed, as they leaned on each other for support.

Cassian burst out laughing at his daughters' shocked expressions.

Celia was shaking her head indignantly and stood up on the mattress to retort to her brother.

Nesta already knew how this was going to end and casting a quick glance towards her husband, she knew Cassian was thinking the same thing.

"Noooo!" shouted Celia. Andra stood up in turn, keeping a small hand on Cassian's shoulder so she wouldn't risk falling. "The TV is ours."

Ezra yawned as he stepped forward into the room and sat down at the bottom of Nesta's feet, before falling face forward onto the mattress and muttering something incomprehensible.

Cal had remained standing next to the bed on his father's side and was looking at his sister with an equally combative expression, ready to defend his and his brother's TV night, "No, Celia," Cassian grimaced at the use of his full name, "It's Sunday and TV is ours to have. You girls got it last night."

"I want to have a sleepover!"

Cassian loved all of his children equally, but Celia's tone of voice was too high for her to be allowed to speak on Sunday mornings before ten o'clock and if he didn't intervene, that high-pitched squeal would turn into a cry and he knew it wouldn't take them even half a second to throw themselves at each other's throats.

Casting a quick glance at all the children, he saw that Andra seemed just as convinced as her older sister and Nora was sighing so frequently that it didn't take a genius to figure out that she, too, didn't want to hear them fight so early. Ezra seemed to have fallen back asleep with his head in his mother's lap and Cassian felt a surge of affection for his son.

They were the perfect family picture.

When Nesta had told him she'd gotten pregnant almost sixteen years ago, he hadn't believed it. They had only been married a few months and weren't exactly trying to have children. Not that they were taking precautions to avoid it, but it had been unexpected. He had cried at the prospect that in only nine months he would be a father.

Then Ezra had been born, his hair the same shade as his mother's and his gray eyes the exact copy of those of the woman he loved, and Cassian had fallen completely in love all over again. In love with that tiny little creature who already had so much power over him and who he would have died for without a blink. And he hadn't been able to stop himself from thinking that he wished he had more. That if Nesta wanted, they would give Ezra a brother or sister as soon as possible.

As he had held him for the first time, crying as if his life had just begun, Cassian had thought that the love he felt for his son was too much, that the feeling would overwhelm him one day if he didn't find a way to share it and give it to others. For that reason, when Nesta had announced her second pregnancy to him three years later, he had been relieved that he would finally be able to share his love for Ezra with a second child.

He'd been wrong.

Cal was born when Ezra was four and was the exact physical copy of his father. Dark eyes and hair the exact color of Cassian's and the love had only doubled and totally crushed him. He had become as much a slave to the feeling as an addict to the next fix.

Nesta had joked that they were finally even, one child each, a genetic copy of both of them, and for two years all had been calm. Cal and Erza were growing up as fast as any other child and to Cassian it seemed like life was perfect, complete.

He'd been wrong again.

Nora had arrived three years after Cal and Celia only the year after Nora and Cassian had cried for days. Crying in front of those beauties so pure. And they were his and Nesta's. It was he and Nesta who had given life to those little balls of black hair and dark eyes that jumped on their bed every morning, welcoming them into the world every day with love and affection.

However, Nesta had never seen Cassian cry as much as he did the day Andra was born.

Andra, the last of the girls in the entire family, even smaller than the children of their brothers and sisters, had been born only four years earlier, three years apart from Celia.

Nesta had been shocked to see Cassian's reaction when he had first held the baby girl in his arms. She had been seriously worried when his body had started to shake with sobs and she had had to beg him to tell her it was okay, to give her a sign that he wasn't about to die choking on his own tears.

Cassian had looked at her amidst the crying and smiled, sniffling, "She looks just like you."

At that point, even Nesta hadn't been able to hold back her tears and had joined him in the land of the hyper sensitive parents.

It was true. Up to that point, for ten years, only Ezra had acquired physical features from his mother. The other three, though from a character standpoint they were the farthest thing from their father there could be, were the exact physical copy of him. Cal, Nora, and Celia had been mistaken for twins more times than Nesta could remember.

And although Cassian saw his wife every time he looked at his children, especially their first child, when Andra had arrived, the resemblance had been such that he'd simply burst.

Now they were complete.

A frustrated scream interrupted his train of memories and he felt Andra's tiny hand squeeze his shoulder.

He focused all his attention on Celia, who was trying to climb over him to reach Cal with her arms stretched forward - surely intending to rip her brother's face off.

The son had a grin identical to the one Nesta had when she teased him, and he took a deep breath, thinking that no one would really blame him if he accidentally knocked all his kids off the bed.

A smack on the arm made him turn to Nesta, who was looking at him hard, "Either you stop dreaming about throwing your kids out of bed and make yourself useful by stopping the upcoming fight or next Saturday no sleepover for you." then, before he could retort by saying she could stop them just as easily, she pointed to her legs pinned down by the growing body of their fourteen-year-old son, who seemed completely undisturbed by the sisters' high-pitched screams as they circled Cal, "I'd do it, but I'm stuck."

Cassian sighed as he stood up, making his way through the three little girls who seemed to be chanting some satanic ritual and picked up his son, saving him from what would have been certain death. The boy wrapped his arms around his neck and smiled down smugly at his sisters.

"That's enough." he instructed in the authoritative tone that only a father could have, "We have three TVs in this house." then he turned to the three pink and white girls, each with an adorable pout on their faces, "Tonight it's Cal and Ezra's turn to use the one in the living room and I'm sure you can all watch whatever they choose together." he took a deep breath, "But just in case not, you can come over to mom and dad's big bed and watch the princess and the frog here, okay?"

Celia looked on the verge of tears, always the most temperamental of the five, but she nodded once.

Nora took her hand and told her to follow her to their room and Cal wriggled out of Cassian's grasp, following them silently. Surely in five minutes he would have to get up and split them up again, but he cared little as he scooped Andra up off the floor and lay down on the bed holding the little one in his arms.

Nesta was stroking Ezra's hair absentmindedly and looking at him with such feeling in her eyes that Cassian only realized an in later that he had spoken.

"I love you, too," she replied, looking up at him from under her lashes.

Andra flapped her small hands laughing, "Me too."

Cassian looked at her smiling widely, "Come here baby."

The little girl burst out laughing, begging her daddy to let her go and Ezra stretched, extending one arm towards his mom and the other towards his dad.

He looked confused when he opened his eyes, but grunted something gibberish and closed them again soon after.

Nesta's hand stopped in his hair, "What did you say love?"

Ezra pulled himself up on his elbows, looking at her with eyes bright with amusement and Cassian knew immediately that whatever was going to come out of his mouth, he wasn't going to like it.

"Next time you have a sleepover, remember to close the window as well."  

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send an ask)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks @archeron-queen @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @simping4bookboisngrls

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Tea Shop Part Three: Zuko x female reader imagine series

You struggle to come to terms with the reality Lee is Zuko and can’t get your head around the idea...until a dangerous close encourter shows you how fire nation Zuko really is.

Part One here

Part Two here

Part four here

You felt like a naive idiot. You always prided yourself on being more objective than an average air nomad, more realistic, but you'd believe Zuko was good and he betrayed his uncle and tried to kill Aang. You felt utterly bewildered and couldn’t believe the person you knew would do all those things. You made Sokka tell you all about their encounters with Zuko, every single detail, to try and get it into your head that the tea merchant you knew didn’t exist. Everything Sokka told you sounded insane but you knew it was the truth so begrudgingly you started accepting it. You were starting to see Zuko as an enemy instead of an ally and then all that work went out the window when you came face to face with him again.

The gang had landed on a secluded part of an island with a nice lake so everyone was swimming and relaxing but you didn’t want to just lie around, you wanted to explore. So you convinced Sokka to come with you for a walk into town and the two of you set off. When you heard there was beach you’re excitment peaked and Sokka relaxed his rule on staying out of sight figuring nobody here would recognise either of you. Sokka stopped to look at bags by the beach front and you walked onto the beach happily. You stood in the sand enjoying the warmth when suddenly a beach ball came flying towards you. You batted it away without thinking and sent it flying down the beach. "Great job genius" a voice called and you turned to see a very angry looking fire nation girl. "That was my ball and now you've catapulted it half way down the beach". "Sorry but it was that or get in the face so..." you joked but the girl didn’t find you funny. "Go get it" she said stiffly and something about her tone pissed you off "no" you said simply "it’s your ball". The girl went to step closer to you when her friends walked over too and a boy pulled her away from you. You mouth opened in suprise to see it was Lee or more accurately Zuko. It had only been a few months since you’d last seen him but he looked so different. His hair was longer, he was in fire nation clothes and he looked changed...he looked good. You could tell it was definitely him by how panicked he looked, which also suprised you. Was he really scared because he thought you'd reveal what he did and who he was to his friends? Surely they knew he was the prince? Then you realised he wasn't worried about himself he was worried about you. "Azula leave it" he called standing infront of her and you realised who this was. The gang had told you all about the deadly fire nation trio and sure enough you recognised the other two girls from their descriptions. The pale girl didn’t even seem to be paying attention but the pretty brunette looked at Azula worried. "This peasant disrespected me i won’t leave it" Azula snapped as Ty lee frowned "it’s okay Azula, those boys are bringing the ball back to us anyway" she smiled "they’re so nice". "Exactly so let’s just go" Zuko said and you saw Azula frown at him, you were guessing he wasn’t usually an advocate for the average person. You felt his sister scanning you and knew you had to get out of this situation right now but had no idea how. "Come on" Zuko called but Azula shook her head "no". Zuko groaned "for god sake Azula what’s your problem! Leave her alone". Azula tensed "why are you so protective of this girl zuzu?" she asked and you saw Mai look up at that and stare at you too. "I’m not" Zuko babbled "i’m just sick of your temper, why start fights with a stranger for no good reason!". Azula frowned as if she hadn’t even heard Zuko "you seem familiar" she said "have we met before?". You frowned "i...i’ve never seen you before in my life" you replied trying not to touch the burn on your arm like you always did when you were nervous. She hummed still staring at you and you waited for her to realise who you were. "I’m sick of this come on lets just go" Zuko sighed and he led Mai away. "Azula come on" he called and Ty lee tugged her arm. "Fine" Azula sighed and let them drag her away. You watched them go, facinated. So this was the real Lee then? You watched him, staring at the back of his head trying to find something, a look, a subtle nod, anything that told you he was still Lee...but Zuko seemed determined not to look back at all and he walked away like he didn’t know or care about you at all.

You came to your senses after they left and rushed away from the beach, running back up to the stalls and out of sight. You breathed heavily as what could’ve happened to you sunk in and jumped when Sokka appeared next to you. "Hey, did you get what you wanted?". "What?" you asked confused. "The beach? Is it nice?". "No it’s way too crowded lets head back" you stammered and Sokka shrugged "okay". You weren’t sure why you didn’t tell Sokka what had happened. Part of you didn't say anything because you weren't sure how to feel. You hadn't been angry when you saw Zuko more sad and confused. You’d felt embarassed he ignored you even if he had to do it given the company he was in. Another part of you didn’t say anything because you didn’t want the others to persue Zuko even if he was part of the fire nation and that thought embarassed you even more. You were very confused and so just stayed quiet as you walked further and further away from the beach.

All day you ruminated over your decision not to tell the others and even with ground between you, you couldn’t get what happened out of your head. You wanted to ask Zuko why he’d helped you on the beach, shouldn’t he hate you now? Especially given your air nomad identity or was he different to the rest of his nation? Giving up on sleep you decided to go for a walk and pretended you didn’t have an exact location in mind. You knew it was stupid and risky but you headed back to the beach and arrived quickly. It was empty and you sat down slightly disappointed. You knew Zuko wouldn’t still be there but you had to check. You sighed wondering what you’d even have said to him and were suddenly glad he wasn’t here. You didn’t know if you’d be angry at him or happy to see him, so him not being here made things a lot easier for you.

"You must have a death wish coming back here" someone called and you knew who it was.

You turned and there Zuko was walking towards you slowly. The first emotion you felt wasn't anger, he'd come back here too, just like you. "I could say the same for you" you smirked and Zuko sat down next to you. You sat beside one another in silence both of you suprised and confused by the situation you were in. "Why are you here?" he asked suddenly. "I thought you might come back here so i did" you said embarassed and he shook his head "no here on the island! Are you following us? Y/n they can’t know you’re here...if my sister knew who you were she'd....". "Pft i can handle some fire" you tried to joke but Zuko shook his head "no y/n, Azula is the best fire bender i’ve ever seen, you can’t take her and you can’t let her take you". You swallowed, you’d only been joking about handling Azula, you knew she was dangerous but hearing Zuko tell you that... "We’re not here because we’re following you" you said softly "we stopped off here and i wanted to see the beach, it was chance bumping into you i swear". Zuko looked at you and nodded "i believe you, it was just...odd". You nodded and watched him out of the corner of your eye. He looked conflicted, happy but not happy, sad but not sad. "How are you?" you couldn’t help asking "how is it being back home?". "Weird" Zuko replied "it’s changed so much...i’ve changed". “Tell me about it, the last I knew you were a tea merchant not a prince”. Zuko smiled slightly “I imagine it was a lot to take in?”. You nodded “it was but it explained a lot...your spoiled attitude for one”. Zuko smirked and you laughed. This was nice and all but you couldn’t just sit around ignoring the elephant in the room. "Why did you do it?" you couldn’t help asking and felt Zuko tense, the atmosphere now uncomfortable. "I know i don’t know you well and I know Lee isn’t really you but I still can't understand why you'd betray your uncle? Why you'd side with your sister after all she’s done? You just don’t seem like that type of person". Silence settled and stretched on for so long you got ready to leave but finally Zuko spoke. "You’re right, you don’t know me". You met his eye and saw nothing but anger and hate there. You looked away scolded and shook your head feeling deflated "back to that again huh? Back to hating each other?". "Well obviously! we’re on opposing sides y/n, what did you think was going to happen once you joined the avatar? We’re not friends". You laughed in utter surprise "ow so if i didn’t join the avatar it would've been different?" you asked "stop trying to blame me because you feel guilty for the choices you made". "You were always too prying and self rightous for your own good" he snapped “you know nothing! You’re just some waitress I worked with, you don’t know anything about me”. "Wow and there’s the fire nation prince" you smirked patronisingly "don’t know how you did such a good job hiding him before now" and stood up. "I saved you as a courtesy" Zuko called after you, his voice getting louder the further you walked "the next time i won’t". His announcement made you so mad you shook with anger. He was really threatening you for calling him out on betraying his family? He thought not letting his sister attack you owed praise? "Good" you yelled back "i don’t need anything from you. Have fun in your cursed life traitor". 

Zuko’s POV

Your words hit Zuko like a strike and he glared after you burning holes in your back until you disappeared around a corner. Even though you’d gone Zuko’s anger didn’t and he angrily sent a jet of fire up into the air with a yell. Zuko sat down on the cold bench and shivered. “What’s wrong with you now?” someone asked making Zuko jump. He turned to see Azula coming towards him and looked around to make sure there was no sign you’d been here. Azula seemed relaxed so she obviously hadn’t seen you but Zuko couldn’t believe how lucky he got, if Azula had been slightly earlier or you stayed any longer...it didn’t bare thinking about. “Hello? Does that scar effect your hearing?”. “No” Zuko snapped and sighed. His temper had been bad recently and was getting worse, that’s why he’d blown up so easily. He hadn’t meant to yell at you, he’d been happy to see you and he did...had seen you as a friend. But that was certainly all ruined now he’d yelled at you. That thought made Zuko even more depressed, which he didn’t think was possible. He supposed it was best you hate him though, he was the traitor prince, he’d betrayed his uncle who only ever wanted to help him. This way he wouldn’t be able to betray you too. 

1 month later

You’d regretted what you’d said to Zuko as soon as your anger feded but you were still hurt at what he’d said about you. You weren’t friends and you never were...

You decided that was the final straw and set out to make Zuko’s words a reality. Slowly you managed to lose thought of Zuko, even during the invasion of the fire nation palace you didn’t worry about seeing him, you knew now where your loyalties lied and it wasn’t with Zuko. You were done with him and getting to be okay with that.

So after finally working all that out, when you got a visitor at the western air temple you were angry to say the least. "It’s not..." you frowned looking at the figure but it was. Zuko...and he was smiling too. "Hello Zuko here" he called waving, appearing to be as calm as ever. The others all armed themselves but you just glared. Zuko looked at you all and glanced at you last. He looked down at the intenseness of your glare and you felt proud. "What do you want here?" Aang asked. Zuko explained he wanted to join you and you snorted "seriously? Now the great prince wants to grace us with his presence?" you asked. Zuko looked at you "y/n...i’m sorry for hurting you, all of you” he said looking at everyone again "what i did was wrong and i ask you to consider forgiving me". "No" you said simply "so thank you for coming but goodbye". Zuko rolled his eyes "y/n just let me explain...". "Explain what?" you asked "how you double crossed Mushi? How you hinted i’d be next?". Zuko went quiet and lowered his head. Aang touched your arm and you took that as a sign to calm down. “We can never trust you and we’ll never let you join us” Aang took over and you nodded. Zuko’s face crumpled in defeat and you sighed in relief. You watched, glaring, until Zuko walked out of sight and went inside the temple “well done Aang” you commented. "Man i thought air nomads were all peaceful" Sokka frowned. "Well guess i’m more earth nation then" you shrugged "if i see him again i’ll catapult him from this mountain". “Why are you so angry at him?” Toph asked suddenly and you laughed “you’re joking right?”. “No I get you feel betrayed but you were furious with him I could tell by your emotions and what did you mean when you said he threatenned you?”. “Yeah you never told us he did that in Ba Sing Sei” Sokka nodded and you frowned. “He didn’t threaten me per se and it wasn’t in Ba Sing Sei. I spoke to Zuko a few weeks ago". "What!" they all cried. Sokka launched in a lecture, Katara questioned you on safety, Toph called you insane while you just blushed. "This is exactly why i didn’t tell you!" you cried "i knew the risk but we were at the beach and he’d already stopped his sister from attacking me earlier that day so i figured....". "What" Sokka yelled and you sighed and just started from the very beginning. You finished your explanation and Sokka nodded. "I get why you’re angry at him" Sokka agreed and you sighed in relief. "Yeah because of what he said to me...". "No because you guys basically broke up". "What! We did not" you spluttered "we were never dating! That’s ridiculous" and stormed away angrily.

After a fitful night of sleep you woke up to the news Toph was gone. She’d seemed pretty sympathetic to Zuko yesterday so you weren’t suprised when she returned and announced she’d visit Zuko...and he’d burnt her. You helped carry her to the fountain and managed not to gloat that you were right but Toph sensed it. “I can feel you smirking” she commented. You frowned “I’m sorry you got hurt but I did tell you...”. “I may’ve been wrong but you’re letting your feelings cloud your judgement” Toph commented. You gaped “no i’m not!” and Katara frowned “guys....” when an explosion rocked the whole temple. Sparky sparky boom man was back, the assassin hired to kill you, and you all sought cover when suddenly the attacks ceased. “Zuko” Aang commented and you sighed, apparently Zuko was determined to prove his worth. Watching Aang’s reaction you felt anger, you knew what would happen. Zuko would save the day and that would win the gang over, they didn’t have as strong grudges as you.

Sure enough after the attack they let Zuko approach and listened to him. Aang vouched for him but then turned to all of you for your opinions. Aang looked at eveyone, they all met his eye apart from you. Toph and Sokka agreed, Katara hesitated but she agreed too. Finally Aang turned to you  "Y/n" he said softly "will you agree to let Zuko stay?". You looked past Aang to Zuko and resisted the urge to glare. "Y/n" Aang said softly "please, i need a firebender teacher and i really think it should be him". You stared at Aang, those big brown eyes wearing you down, and sighed. You had to do what was right, Aang needed this and he was one of the last members of your nation, you couldn’t be selfish. You nodded your head stiffly “if you say you need him then okay”. Aang grinned at you before turning back to Zuko “okay you can join us”. Those words made your skin crawl and you stormed away.  

It was awkward to say the least having Zuko around, all of you were reluctant to approach him but Sokka seemed to be having fun with it. As night approached Zuko asked where his room was and Sokka said he’d show him. Zuko nodded and Sokka siddled up beside you “want to show Zuko to his room yourself?" Sokka asked "so you can memorise the location". You smacked Sokka over the head in reply and he led Zuko away without another comment but had apparently put the idea in Zuko’s head.

You were laid on your bed glaring at the ceiling too angry to sleep when there was a knock on your door. You sat up cautiously and the door opened to reveal Zuko. "Hi" he said timidly and you stood up "what do you want?". Zuko blushed "i think we need to talk, privately...about what happened on ember island". "What is there to discuss? You never considered me a friend, you rejected me and left". Zuko frowned "y/n...it wasn’t like that". "Wasn’t it?" you asked and Zuko frowned "well it was but y/n i’m sorry! The things i said to you were awful but i didn’t mean them! I lashed out at you because it was you, because you make me want to be a better person, that’s why i hurt you". "Ow wow that makes it so much better thank you" you said mockingly and Zuko frowned "no, you know i didn’t mean it like that". "Well i’m sorry i didn’t take you yelling at me the right way Zuko, did i misinterpret you calling me nosy and self rightous and saying you never liked me too? Or how you saving me was just a such a nice gesture". Zuko groaned "why aren’t you listening i just said I didn’t mean any of that!". "Well i find that hard to believe" you glared "you don’t get to come here and apologise and have me forgive you, i’m angry at you". "Really you did a good job hiding that" Zuko retorted and you glared. "Get out of my room i don’t want to talk to you, ever”" you yelled and Zuko nodded "fine!" and stormed away. He slammed the door and the whole temple shook. You let out a cry of frustration and collapsed onto your bed. Zuko joining the group was going to make things complicated.

----

Next part is the last one!!!

[marvel-medigeek-fics]

Laundry Day

|| 1.6k || ao3 link ||

 Buck had overslept. Slept straight through his alarms, only to wake up 13 minutes before he needed to be leaving for work. Second time this week and, to matters worse, every single one of his LAFD shirts was balled up in the corner of his room. After pulling on the bottom half of his uniform, he sniffed the balled-up shirts. Rank, rancid, double rank, gag-inducing. The thought of wearing a disgusting smelling shirt made Buck's skin crawl, so he threw on a plain black shirt and hoped for the best. Hopefully, Bobby wouldn't see him before he could pull on an actual LAFD shirt straight from the dryer.

Buck pulled into the station's parking lot 11 and a half minutes later. He wiped a sheen off his temple and hoped Bobby wouldn't notice the stark lack of logo. He made a beeline for the dryer and grabbed one of the shirts from the pile in the basket. He hastily put on the first shirt that smelled like detergent, shoving his black shirt into his bag. Crisis averted.

Upstairs, Eddie, Bobby, Hen, and Chimney were deep in conversation about the "curse" a few days ago. "At least it's not like last time." Hen was saying. "Live power pole on one truck and the other one stolen."

"That was not the fault of the "curse", just an unlucky coincidence. The q word can't jinx you, it's just a word." Eddie shook his head, shoveling hot sauce covered scrambled eggs into his mouth. Chimney and Hen shared a look that said, 'He can not be serious.'

"Mhm. Just a coincidence." Buck raised his eyebrows, bringing the attention of his colleagues to him at the top of the stairs. "You wouldn't be saying that because the curse gave you a reason to ask out Christopher's English teacher or anything, right?" Eddie was smart enough to have his mouth full by the time Buck finished, as to avoid Hen's questioning eyes, Bobby's subtle brow raise, or Chimney's blunt questions.

"Is that why you said you had other plans?" Chimney almost threw his fork on the table in mock outrage. Hen rolled her eyes at Chimney's outburst. Bobby just went back to his eggs. Eddie just nodded and finished off his eggs, wiping the excess hot sauce off his plate with his last forkful.

"Good for you, man. We did save a life, you missed out." Chimney continued, trailing off as Buck moved to get a serving of eggs. No hot sauce, extra salt, extra pepper, extra garlic powder. And cheese. Lots of cheese. By the time Buck turned around, the entire table was staring at him. Their eyes moved from Buck to each other, having an unspoken conversation.

"What?" Buck quirked an eyebrow at their expressions. Bobby had his usual glint in his eyes, Chimney looked like he was about to explode, and Hen looked completely normal. Eddie, on the other hand, was staring a hole into his empty plate. The top of his cheeks were turning crimson, but no one was looking at him.

"Nothing. Eat your eggs." Hen shook her head and changed the subject. She'd seen the looks Buck and Eddie had shared, which were too intimate to be between two people who were "just friends". Also, Buck had a habit of watching Eddie's ass as he walked by him. So did Eddie. 'Watching his back' was their excuse.

--

“5 vehicle accident on South Seneca.” The words echoed over the intercom and every member of the 118 ran for the trucks. The day so far hadn’t been very eventful, and everyone was a little antsy. Squirrely, to be more honest. Eddie squirmed in his seat uneasily and Chim looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. Hen kept giving him knowing and pointed glances. Buck, on the other hand, was raring to go and about catapulted out of the truck as soon as it pulled to a stop.

The scene was messy with news vans, reporters and civilians surrounding the wreckage. The wind wasn’t helping, biting everyone deep. You’d think people wouldn’t be watching a car accident with that kind of weather. Luckily the police were already backing people away, and the 118 and the 223 could get to work extricating people.

In the middle, one car was essentially crushed from 2 sides after running a red light straight into the path of the three oncoming cars, hitting another on its way to a stop. Two of the cars were crumpled like sheets of paper, another was heavily dented by the force of getting t boned. The fourth car was barely scratched, with all the damage of a fender bender. The fifth car in the middle was smashed in both directions, with the passengers side door hit head on and the back seat drivers side in the same condition. The hood was rippled and smoking fervently. It looked awful, but it would still be flooding television stations on the 6 o clock news.

“Buck, Chim, we’ll check on the far side. Hen and Eddie, ditto.” The 118 moved quickly to the far side and immediately everything else was forgotten.

“LAFD, you were in an accident. Are you in any pain?” Buck and Eddie repeated each other, receiving vastly different answers.

“My daughters are in the backseat, Sophie who’s 2 and Marisella who’s just a baby. I’m fine. Check on them.” Said Buck, Chim and Bobby’s driver.

A baby wailed in the backseat, and the other girl, a toddler, was silently staring at these strange men. Buck raced around to the passengers side door, struggling futilely with the handle.

“It’s automatic.” The driver winced, springing Chimney into action to pry off part of the door. The door slid open on the other side and Buck immediately reached in and unbuckled the toddler from her seat. She seemed relatively unhurt, save a few bruises. Buck handed her off to Bobby and crawled to the other side for the baby, wailing profusely. He unbuckled her with the grace of an uncle who had been practicing and carried her against his chest, attempting to protect her from the wind, which was only getting colder.

Chimney was not having as good of luck extricating the father. The seatbelt was cutting a deep scar in his thigh and every time any thing would move blood would trickle out from around the polyester. Chimney very carefully slid a square of gauze under the belt and simultaneously cut the belt from causing more damage. Blood quickly soaked the gauze and Chimney maneuvered another piece to soak up the blood. “Hold this, sir, please. I’m going to place a tourniquet above your hands and you should stop bleeding.”

The fathers face was turning staunch white, and Chimney but his tongue. He’d have to work fast. And he did. 5 minutes later, the father was out on a stretcher.

In the next car, Eddie and Hen were dealing with an irate woman, who kept exclaiming she would be sueing. The driver, the state of California, LA first responders, God knows who else. She seemed unhurt, but was stuck on both sides. Her drivers side door was stuck, though not intruding on her seat. The rear passengers side door was the most realistic plan to get her out. Eddie climbed through that door and Hen attempted to coax her to follow him from her place just behind the drivers door.

“Why can’t you just remove my door?” She protested and both Eddie and Hen had to force themselves not to roll their eyes or snipe back with a comment.

“Even if we did, ma’am, there is still another car blocking us from getting you out.” Hen replied calmly.

“Tow it.”

“We cannot do that until everyone is cleared from the accident scene, ma’am.” Eddie said. “ please just come this way.” He offered his hand. She only relented after a sigh so loud it seemed painful and crawled her way out the door. Not even her blouse had a stain on it.

After she was escorted to the hospital in 331’s ambulance, hen and Eddie shared a look that simply said “some people.”

“I wonder if she’ll sue.” Eddie wondered when the 118 was headed back from the scene to the station.

“I doubt it.” Bobby said somberly. His voice changed slightly for his next statement. “ everyone is stable and south Seneca is open for traffic.”

—

“The 6 car accident on South Seneca that occurred at 4:37 pm involved 0 fatalities and no critical injuries. South Seneca was reopened for full traffic at 6:59 pm.” Pictures cycled the screen, of the cars, the 118s ladder and various other ambulances. Then there was Buck carrying the baby Marisella. The top of his turnout was peeking over his shoulder, protecting the child from the bitter wind. But the most interesting part of the picture was the name plastered on his back.

Diaz.

“Good job, Diaz.” Chimney clapped his hand on A bewildered Bucks shoulder. Both Buck and Eddie were turning red starting from the tips of their ears, and neither of them would live it down.

—

“Were you attempting to grab my shirt or was it just a lucky grab?” Eddie leaned against the door frame at the end of shift and stared at Buck who was pulling on a hoodie.

“In your dreams, Diaz.” Buck rolled his eyes and smiled into the locker, which was not unbeknownst to Eddie.

“Just in yours. Diaz.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Buck turned to see Eddie giving him a smirk. Oh what he wouldn’t give to wipe that smirk off his face.

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final fantasy 7 prompts # 68

1. Sephiroth overhears the word "fanfiction" and legit flees from battle.

Cloud is bewildered, but chases after the silverette regardless. What could have possibly happened that would make Sephiroth afraid.

2. Cloud slammed the door shut behind them and the cart began its accent. The blond would have let out a sigh if he wasn't panting so hard, though Sephiroth didn't look much better. In fact, the silverette looked as if he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Cloud personally knew how bad Sephiroths mental breakdowns could go. He did not want to know how bad they would be with just the two of them trapped together on a ferris wheel. "Sephiroth?" The blond barely managed to touch the other mans shoulder before he found himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling with the silver demon curled up on top of him. "Wha..?"

A sob was his reply, followed by shaking. Cloud could do nothing but lightly pat the mans arm, as his worst enemy cried into his chest.

I'm on a "Make Sephiroth Cry" kick. Join me.

3. Sephiroth kicked down the door to seventh Heaven only to see two children and the male members of AVALANCHE in full drag. Whats worse is that they had his puppet tied to a chair.

The silverette froze, as did AVALANCHE. They stared at each other motionless for a few seconds before Cloud mouthed Run

Sephiroth bolted.

He did not want to know.

Cloud sighed. Him and his entire family had been unarmed at Barrets insistence. If Sephiroth hadn't fallen for the trick they would have been powerless against him...too bad it didn't get him out of his "makeover".

Later they all fought Sephiroth in drag. Sephiroth just looked so completely lost the entire time.

4. Sephiroth redemption arc which causes a Tifa bastardization arc

5. Yuffie gets caught teaching orphans how to pick locks and pockets.

6. Au where Sephiroth is the prince of a kingdom and will soon ascend the throne. Hes being pressured by his council to marry, all the while they not so subtly show off thier daughters.

So Sephiroth came up with a plan. He would hold a race in the form of a series of trials. Whoever completes these trials to the princes satisfaction first will win his hand in marriage, all the while never planning to actually have to take a bride.

Cloud, a simple yet skilled sellsword gets mixed into the mess by his childhood friend, Lady Lockhart (who was forced into this by her father), in an attempt to get him to win so that she wouldn't have to marry Sephiroth. Surely the silverette wouldn't pick a man as his bride and they would both walk away unscathed...right?

Sephiroth find this whole scenario to be increasing amusing.

7. Modern au where Genesis convinced his two best friends to go on a skiing trip with him in a remote mountain resort, only for Angeal to break his leg and them promptly getting lost trying to find thier way back...then a blizzard kicks up.

They stumble, (literally) into this old abandoned mansion, hidden by the thick woods. They make thier way into the relative warmth and safety of the building only to find this place is massive.

They light up the fireplace and ease Angeal into the dust infused recliner nearest to it. Sephiroth searches for food or the owner, only to come back empty-handed. The silverette finds this odd as the place that was dusty and dark only half an hour ago now looks relatively cared for, not much dust, no obvious disrepair, hell, the floors looked to have been waxed recently.

Genesis went looking for food and came back with a plate of sandwiches and practically growling at Sephiroth, telling him that the pantry was packed.

Sephiroth investigated, and to his surprise it was, in fact, packed. Strangely it wasn't ten minutes ago when he checked. In fact, the bare and cracked countertops also had kitchen appliances that he knew for a fact wasn't there before. Shiva, even the counters looked brand new. What was going on?!

But wait! It gets worse. He starts having vivid and realistic nightmares about fighting a blond man every night...it just so happens to be the man he shares to see glimpses of throughout the house.

8. Kunsel finds his son one year after the events of DoC.

Cloud tries his hardest not to be upset that Denzels family is taking him home. Most foundlings would kill for such good fortune...but it hurt. Watching the child he once viewed as his own wave goodbye from the back seat of a car felt like one of the most painful points of his life. Like he was losing another loved one.

9. Sephiroth listened as the man entered his quarters again. This person had been able to bypass Shinra towers best security measures several times now, and this time he had even managed to evade the Turks. The lack of gunfire on the nearby floors could attest to that.

The man began to speak as the silverette continued to feign sleep. But...what was this about this mother?

10. Cloud wakes up in an infirmary to the strong smell of disinfectant. He calms himself, thinking that a civilian must have brought him here. That was, until a man with mako eyes came in with a scientist wearing a Shinra lab coat. The blond immediately panics, ignoring the black haired SOLDIER who was lecturing him about going into the train graveyard alone in favor of the unkempt man in a lab coat. The man, Hollander, made a move towards him with a needle, saying something about wanting to get a blood sample and Cloud bolted, punching the burlier man in the face on the way out.

In his opinion the SOLDIER deserved it for managing to use the word "Honor" three times in a single sentence. But whatever.

11. Au where Jenova sunk her claws into Genesis the moment the crimson commander began his degradation.

This continued with every other SOLDIER. Jenova wept tears of joy. She had so many beautiful children to care for.

Also, Genesis referring to Jenova as The Goddess

12. Au where Kunsel found Cloud wandering in the wastelands. It may have been too late for Zack, but Kunsel refused to let his friends death be in vain.

13. Cloud, drunk out of his mind (and currently cradled in his arch nemesis's arms), reached up and started petting Sephiroths head.

Sephiroth, being the most touch starved person on the planet, leans into the touch and is flooded with so much serotonin that it breaks him

14. Cloud comes home to Tifa and the kids wearing modified versions of a SOLDIER Firsts uniform. They yell, "Surprise!" And Cloud couldn't stop the smile from forming on his face, even if he wanted to.

15. Reeve gets left in charge of the children. Not quite sure what to do, he finds himself telling them stories of the SOLDIERS he once knew.

Bonus: Denzel becomes a huge Genesis fan. When Genesis eventually returns, Denzel immediately asks for an autograph while trembling with excitement.

The former Crimson Commander stared down at the starry eyed child and his ego grew ten sizes larger.

[kikoqueenofrats]

Whoop Whoop next chapter is in! Lil guy belongs to @toastraccoon

Cel sighed as he buried his face into his knees. He was currently trying to come to terms with the fact that he had just developed a crush on his new friend...if he could even call Mari a new friend at this point.

They had been traveling together for two years after all.

Cel groaned grabbing the attention of Mari, they turned around, looking at Cel in concern

"You okay buddy?" They asked as they jumped out of the open Google Chrome tab and onto the taskbar.

They cringed slightly as another twinge of pain shot up their back and it was Cels turn to frown in concern.

"Mari-"

"It's fine, it doesn't hurt that much, I'm okay" Mari shrugged, cringing again as the movement jostled their injury.

Cels concerned frown deepened at that. "Mari it's been a week and your injury is still just as bad as it was when you first got it!" Cel stated firmly, Mari shrunk slightly at that, looking up at Cel a look of realisation falling upon their face.

"But...I took a healing potion" they whispered, now eyeing Cel worriedly.

"Well it didn't work!" Cel snapped

"It worked for you didn't it!?!" Mari snapped back and they both went silent for a few moments.

Cel thought back to the last time he had taken a Minecraft healing potion...when he and Mari had first met. Cel had been in pretty bad shape and whilst the small bits of code damage had been healed by the potion, the largest injury had remained until eventually it had "healed" on its own. Well that’s what Cel had believed, until the injury had flared up again during that attack the day he and Mari were kidnapped.

"...yeah, it worked for the small ones" Cel shuffled awkwardly as Maris' concerned look deepened "the large one on my back stayed there for about a week...I thought it had healed too but...it started hurting again...it was small at first but...it got worse..." Cel whispered, lowering his voice at that last bit as guilt began eating away at his throat.

Mari looked at Cel in shock, opening their mouth to speak when they seemingly decided against it.

"Okay" Mari put their hands up in defeat "let's see what the internet says about this" they turned around and jumped a mile as their eyes landed upon the small green stick standing in front of them.

"GAH! AHuh-" They doubled over in pain as the injury was jostled once again. Cel jumped up and quickly made his way over, grabbing Maris arm as they began to lean too far left for Cels liking.

"Oh gosh! Sorry I didn't mean to startle ya!" Lil guy began eyeing Mari nervously as they began leaning heavily on Cel, much to their dismay "are they okay?" His eyes moved over to Cel as he asked the question.

"No...they're not" Cel sighed looking at his now struggling to stand friend in concern "They were attacked by a powerful stick last week...just after we first met you...and...and they've been having back pain ever since..." Cel finished now looking over at Lil Guy;

Lil Guy shuffled nervously, a guilty expression written across his face.

"Yeah, I should probably apologise for that" Cel gave him a confused look, but remained silent, letting Lil Guy continue.

"I heard you both getting attacked...I did try to help you but uh...the group knocked me out before I could get you out...I've been worrying about you two all week...and rightly so" Lil Guys nervous look moved over to the still tensed up Mari "Mari looks like their suffering from a bad case of code damage..." The small stick began making his way around the duo.

"You don't have to apologize for that...it was three v one-" Cel smiled reassuringly "besides you're here now...you can help Mari now, can't you?..." Cel shuffled awkwardly, worried he was being too forceful.

Though Lil Guys' content smile quickly chased those worries away "yeah...I'm here now" He began pulling off his oversized backpack as Cels gaze returned to Mari.

Cel looked between the two for a while before realising the medic would probably need some help reaching Maris wound if they remained in their current position.

"Mari?" Cel looked up at Mari, they looked over at Cel slowly. Cel could practically see the pain written over their face and his heart ached at it, but he needed to do this in order for them to get the help they needed.

"Mari, could you sit down please...Lil Guy needs to be able to reach your back" Cel asked gently, Maris' pained look deepened for a few moments before they slowly began trying to lower themselves to the floor.

Cel supported Mari on their journey to the floor until they had both made it to their destination.

A few moments of Lil Guy rummaging in his bag later and he had pulled out what he would need. Cel looked over in curiosity as Lil Guy unscrewed the lid off of a small pot and began applying the thick cream like substance onto Maris' injury.

Mari hissed and tensed up even more as the substance hit their skin, in response Cel grabbed Maris hand and began muttering soft words of comfort as the hiss slowly turned into soft whimpers.

Lil Guy watched this out of the corner of his eye and smiled playfully.

"So, how long have you two been together then?" Lil guy chuckled as Cel sputtered, caught off guard by the healers question.

He opened his mouth to explain when Mari beat him to it;

"We've been together for two years now" Mari stated as casually as they could considering their current physical state.

Cels face went red as they stared at Mari in shock. "M-Mari I don't think you understand what Lil Guy is saying" Cel blurted out the confusing feelings attacking his mind full force as his lovestruck mind tried to convince itself that Mari had actually meant those words.

Whilst his more realistic thinking mind kept yelling at him that it wasn't possible seeing the time frame Mari had just stated.

Mari stared at Cel in confusion for a few moments. before they could open their mouth to reply however a new wave of pain caused them to tense up again.

Without hesitation Cel quietly began rubbing Maris hand. Lil Guy chuckled lightly at that and Cel looked back up at them sharply, blush still evident on his face. Lil Guy chuckled again before going back to treating Mari.

A few moments later and Lil Guy was done covering Maris injury in cream, he put the container back into his pack, before pulling out a bandage.

"This'll help keep the cream from rubbing off" Lil Guy muttered as he began wrapping the bandage around Maris torso.

Cel continued to hold onto Maris hands, not noticing that Mari had relaxed significantly since the back rubbing had stopped, still trying to fully come to terms with his own emotions.

Mari didn't seem to notice either, still wanting to find out how they had misunderstood Lil Guys question.

"Hey Lil Guy?" Mari asked as said stick secured the bandage into place.

"Yeah?" Lil Guy replied, still focused on the bandage.

"What did you mean when you said me and Cel were together?" Lil Guy paused, looking thoughtful for a few moments, trying to figure out the best way to explain this concept to Mari.

"Mari do you know what love is?"

It was Maris turn to look thoughtful.

"I...kind of?...I know there are different kinds, I just" Maris face fell slightly "I don't know how they feel yet...I...I think I know what the friendship kind feels like, because that's what I feel about Cel...but I'm still not entirely sure"

Cel had only been half listening to the conversation as he continued to softly play with Maris hand.

His frown deepened slightly as he heard Mari refer to him as a friend. His frown deepened even more as he shook the disappointed feeling away.

Mari needed a friend, they could only handle a friend right now.

You don't even completely understand what you're feeling, calm down-

Lil Guy nodded, quietly thinking the new information over as they finished wrapping Maris torso and packed the remaining bandages away.

"Alright, all done!" He chirped, ignoring the bewildered look he got from Cel as the subject was suddenly changed.

"Now all you need is rest and..." Lil Guy looked outside of the desktop window, the user was currently not there, but that didn't mean they wouldn't return any time soon.

"...this isn't really the safest place to do so...but don't worry, I know a place" Lil Guy got up, pulling his oversized backpack onto his back as he did so.

Mari tried to follow Lil Guys lead, but ended up almost falling over again as Cel was still holding onto their hand and Maris back was still rather sore.

Cel quickly let go and steadied his friend, gently helping Mari stand fully back onto their feet.

Mari smiled at Cel gratefully and Cel had to push down another wave of the unwanted emotion only managing a half smile in response.

Cel slowly helped Mari into the tab just as Lil Guy had finished typing in the URL. He checked if the duo were there before pressing the search button, the page loaded and all that was there was a black screen, a brown wooden door sitting just in the middle of it.

The duo began eyeing the door nervously. Yes they trusted Lil Guy more than the sticks that had previously attacked them. But having only just learnt the sticks name, it was fair to say that they were both a bit hesitant.

Sensing this Lil Guys smile turned warm "Hey, it's okay" He quickly jumped off the search bar and walked towards the door "I'll go in first, if that'll make you guys feel better" He smiled pulling out a key and unlocking the door.

Cel still looked incredibly hesitant, but after seeing the comforting smile Lil Guy was giving them, he relaxed a little. "It's alright, we'll go" Mari smiled back, grabbing Cels hand and walking towards the door.

Cel looked up at Mari, he was still hesitant to go into the door, but he also trusted Mari too much to say so.

So he allowed himself to be dragged through.

If anything went wrong they'd still be together...right?

[tracynotabi]

Riptide Day 2 / Undertow

September 11, 2021

D-Day.

Kevin, Ivan, Joey, and I were getting a ride from Spencer, who was also taking Narq to the venue, while Robert and Parker got a ride from someone else. Well, at least we didn’t have to walk to the venue. I didn’t pack sunscreen.

At 9am, about half an hour we were supposed to leave, Kevin gets a stomachache.

Me: He just needs to poop. Spencer: The classic.

We end up going to the lobby to wait for Spencer in Narq, which was fine considering we actually didn’t want Spencer, our ride, waiting for us.

Spencer: Okay, Narq’s just using the bathroom rq lol Me: Is he also having tummy problems Spencer: Nah just bein stoner and forgetting to do stuff lol Me: The classic

We go get Chick-fil-A and I’m sitting underneath the dashboard again by Kevin’s feet. I think the employees were very bewildered, as the woman on the other side of the window did a double take. I would, too, if I saw a smaller-than-average person just hiding underneath the dashboard sipping on a cup of Coke.

Some time after I get to the venue during doubles, I end up talking to Jimmy (j u m), when Kevin comes rushing over to me, a panicked look on his face.

Forgot to mention, but Kevin actually couldn’t get all of his poop out before coming to the venue and now it is back with a vengeance.

He tells me that he’s unable to go to any restroom because there were three stalls in the men’s restroom: two were occupied and one was clogged with poop.

He had tried flushing the poop one but it only made it worse. It just clogged more and the water level rose. If he had sat down and insisted on finishing, his balls would be touching the water and that’s a no-no.

He tried asking the front desk for other restrooms, but he was informed it was the only one. He was desperate and you could just see it in his eyes that he was about to break.

Me, using the big, wrinkly brain that I had, told him to use the women’s restroom. He froze, not even realizing that that was an option.

Now before anyone complains, hear me out.

I would rather be in a restroom with a male in the stall next to me, than exit the restroom and see someone standing outside the men’s restroom trying to wait for a stall with a shit stain in his pants. Excuse the vulgarity, but it’s true.

If you’re ever at one of my tournaments and you need to go and no male restroom is unoccupied, for the love of god, please fucking use the women’s restroom. I do not need this mess on my hands and you best believe I’m shoving myself in the men’s restroom if I gotta fucking go expel unicorns and rainbows.

I go to the restroom with Kevin and stand awkardly on my phone to keep watch, because he didn’t want any of the staff members actually seeing him and risk himself getting kicked out of the venue.

That would’ve been extremely unfortunate.

Luckily, nobody else needed to go use the restroom while Kevin was in there and he was able to safely compete his duty (lol).

If anyone is upset at my suggestion, I’m sorry, but I wasn’t about to not provide such a simple solution for Kevin’s emergency.

Anyway, the tournament start shortly after that.

First match I pay attention to is Kevin vs. Wombat. In my head, I think it’s pools so I shouldn’t worry too much. I try to watch Kevin’s sets, but it makes me physically ill sometimes because my anxiety is wracked up like crazy and I just want to throw up. Many have witnessed me walking away and trying to distract myself multiple times at multiple different tournaments.

It’s like that gory horror movie that you can’t keep looking away from.

Besides knowing that I get sick, I figured it would be fine since I actually enjoy trying to support my boyfriend and watch him come out of pools winners’ side. Not meaning any disrespect by Wombat, by the way. He’s great. Just realistic. It’s like how I expect Kevin to lose to Bob.

Kevin loses Game 1.

Ooh my tummy’s doing barrel rolls like the way Twisty did with that pullout bed. I look away but I’m just so distracted by the crowd noises.

I totally get it, though. Obviously, it’s sick that Wombat’s holding his own against Kevin, who is seed 3 of the tournament. I’d be excited, too, if my friend was making an upset on someone else. But Kevin’s my boyfriend, so obviously, I want him to win.

Kevin barely wins Game 2 and I’m like ooooh boy. My tummy’s going to town and I think I gag a little by how sick I feel. Gotta focus on getting Joey his next match. *deep breaths*

When heartswaptv airs the whole tournament, definitely check out the set. It was really good (as far as I can hear, I couldn’t bring myself to watch the rest of it).

Kevin comes over to me after he’s out of pools and I scold him for making me worried.

AND YOU NOW WHAT HE SAYS?

Kevin: Babe, it’s fine - I almost lost to Zeddy at Redacted City and I got 2nd. I’ll be fine. Me: T____T *incoherent whining noises*

Does Kevin thinks he’s fucking cute for saying that or something? I was not amused.

Since I didn’t have to volunteer TO the entirety of the tournament, I bounced around mingling with other people.

At one point, I get a message from Suvir in our group chat about how he, Sosa, and Narq were planning on coming to visit NorCal. Of course, since Narq was already here, I decided to just go up to him and ask.

Me: So I heard you’re coming to NorCal? Narq: I am? Me: That’s what Suvir said. *shows phone* Narq: I guess I’m going to NorCal!

Suvir: Narq doesn’t actually know. Sosa just said he’d take him with him and said Narq would agree to go because he’s Narq. Me: Oh that makes sense why he had no idea what I was talking about.

It wasn’t until around top bracket did things start to pick up. Not too many spoilers, because (1) no spoilers before they upload the vod and (2) I have a terrible memory when it comes to the matches.

I remember holding up Kevin’s phone to stream to our Discord because we had some non-PM player friends who wanted to see and I think Kevin wanted Thomas (ThundeRzReiGN) to give him some advice throughout the tournament. Not actually coach, but to critique his play.

As more and more top players fell, Kevin made it a goal to do his best not to fall into the landmine that was Losers’. So many heavy hitters were large threats to him: Techboy, Malachi, Akimi, Cloudburst...

Not to say that Winners’ side didn’t have their fair share of monsters: Peter, Parker, Kumatora, Twisty, Nogh, Lunchables...

Kevin’s first match in Top 32 was against Bongo, who people sleep on quite a lot. For those of you that don’t know him, he’s a Captain Falcon from NY who actually beat Kevin at Flex Zone 3 in 2018. Kevin had beaten him at Encore, but it wasn’t easy.

Not to mention Falcon is a pain the butt for Mario. Unfortunately, the match was not recorded (as far as I know), and it was a very exciting match from what I heard. I avoided watching it because based on how long it took, I knew it had to have been a Game 5. During that time, two matches have been finished on “stream.”

Kevin had said his match against Bongo was the toughest one he had - not to discredit his other opponents, of course - but according to him, it was the scariest and closest. Also the threat of being put into Losers so early would’ve made the climb to Top 8 a lot harder.

His overall goal was actually to make Top 8. Despite being a third seed and rank 5, what I’ve noticed about Kevin is that he does have doubts about himself quite often. He’s never complacent in his opponents and worries all the time about being upset and I don’t think anyone puts more pressure on him more than himself.

As I watched my friends progress through bracket, all I can think is there’s not much I can do. I don’t understand the game very much, despite my heavy involvement in the scene. In fact, more often than not, I believe I understand the game the least compared to everyone else.

A tangent from the actual tournament itself is coming, but I think I should address why I’m even in this community:

While everyone loves the game, I love the community behind it. I find it worth it to sit/stand in one location for hours at a time because it allows my friends to enjoy the game they love comfortably without worrying how the tournament is progressing. They can focus on their own growth and passion.

I think what I see is completely different. Like I said, I don’t really understand this game - I can’t differentiate uairs, bairs, d-smashes, etc. I compute it in my head, but can’t visualize it. I don’t recognize most combos - in fact, more often than not, I’m sitting there just staring at the screen kind of blankly. Sometimes, it does make me wonder if I really am part of this community because I don’t really understand the game.

I can’t say I particularly care too much about the game, but I understand how much of an impact it’s made on me and for that, I’m very thankful for this game because it’s led me to some great people.

Back to the actual event and less sap. lol. Is anybody still even reading?

For something put together in a mere two weeks, Trin and their team did an amazing job. Three recording set ups, graphics, a pot, a venue... props to them for gathering the scraps and making a whole out of it. And to think we almost didn’t go.

Madeline (Swanner) ended up coming and it was honestly so good to see her. We aren’t particularly close, but she’s someone I’ve come to care for and just want happiness for her.

Major spoiler, but I don’t think anybody who cares about PM/P+ doesn’t know Kevin won the tournament.

Everyone expected a pop-off, but Kevin just sat there, crying.

I don’t think there’s ever been anything that Kevin has been more passionate about. He loves this game; he loves this community. Never did it ever occur to him that he would win.

I wish I could say more, but honestly, him winning stunned me speechless. And if you didn’t know, the first thing he said after was that he had to call his mother.

His mom is one of his biggest supporters and I love her to death. She has such a huge heart and has never, ever frowned upon Kevin’s love for the game, whole-heartedly supporting it.

I hugged Maddy, because I can’t even imagine how heart-breaking it must be for her to see what could have been on the mainstage. I imagined how much it must’ve hurt her because she just loves the game and the community, but to see it constantly be torn down by Nintendo and her unable to do anything... Give Maddy a hug and thank her if you see her. She deserves the world.

We ended up walking home with PNW, Bob, Mar, Bongo, Cameron (LoyaL), Ivan, and a few others, honestly too dark to completely see and name. It was a very nice night.

We did, however, pass by the rundown house that definitely looked like if we were to talk in there, we’d be killed by the axe murderer that lived there.

Kevin also lagged behind a lot because his phone notifications were going off like crazy and I was worried he was going to just get lost in the darkness or get hit by a car. Stop looking at your phone when you cross the street, dammit.

We got back to our hotel room and ordered pizza - it was bad. God-fucking-dammit, Ohio, why do you suck so much? Kind of a shitty dinner to end the day on, but nothing else was open at 2am. FeelsBadMan.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- its been a while, I haven’t known how to carry the story forward, but recently had a burst of inspiration and wrote the next three chapters. Judging from the last chapter’s feedback, the events of this one isn’t going to be too satisfying.)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6 7  8  9  10  11  12  13

Warnings- Angst, angst and more angst

Chapter 14- Cut The Ropes And Let Me Fall

2 Months Later Filming had been through with Jackson’s yelling, “And that’s a wrap!” At the end of the last scene. The camera had stopped rolling, and wouldn’t again unless the need for re shoots arose and by the end of the week, Y/n and Keanu were carded to fly back to Los Angeles. But that wouldn’t be before a photo shoot for promotional pictures and the wrap party the night before their flights. 

By then, they’d managed to smoothen things out yet again, though, they hadn’t been left void of tension; every now and then, they’d reach a fork in the road, reminding them that things weren’t what they used to be. He’d say something a little too harsh or Y/n would get a bit too close, and for a few days, until one of them had decided that it was time to forget, they’d toe around each other, desperately avoiding any kind of serious talk. 

But, despite the awkwardness, things were surprisingly good too. The highs were higher than they used to be. Keanu had mostly forgone his suite, falling asleep next to Y/n most nights, and they would wake up tangled in each other’s embrace the next morning. It was nice, and was worth the bursts of tension, that served as tormenting punctuation.

“You look cute in this,” Keanu slowly sauntered towards Y/n in the now empty dressing room, immediately taking her in his arms, bending to nuzzle her cheek, "You should keep this blouse," he tugged on the fabric of the lace crop top, which generously boasted her cleavage, the color standing out on her skin.

"Maybe I'll ask if I can," Y/n giggled, looking at their reflections in the lengthy mirror mounted to the wall. Her manicured nails skimmed his forearms, clad in leather, leaning her head back on his shoulder. 

Quickly kissing her, Keanu let his touch invade the scalloped hem, inching upwards suggestively, "How long do we have before the shoot?" The mumbled inquisition was muffled as his ministrations traveled lower; behind her ear lobe, lower down her jaw and along the delicate column of her neck. 

"Not long enough," with wavering restraint, Y/n tried to untangle herself from Keanu's affectionate embrace. He'd still insisted on keeping their entanglement under wraps, hiding things from the press and their co workers. Of course, there'd been a few close calls; pictures taken displaying compromising positions and mummers on social media, but even then, their respective publicists had been able to spin the stories to suit their narratives. Y/n and Keanu were close, comfortable friends, who'd grown used to intimacy on set; there was nothing more between them. Each time, it had stung and Y/n couldn't help but feel like his dirty little secret during those periods. But alas, if she wanted him, she'd have to compromise. That was how relationships worked, right?

Even if what they shared was never really a relationship.

Wiggling and turning in his embrace, Y/n gently pushed on Keanu’s chest, biting half her lip as her eyes sparkled, clearly wanting things to continue, just as much as he did, “As much as I want to, we have maybe ten minutes-”

“I’m sure we can make that work,” Keanu leaned in, trying to kiss her again, “Besides, who cares if we're a little late huh? We’re the stars babygirl, they aren’t gonna start without us. Now come on,” dismissing her objecting, outstretched arms, Keanu closed the space, finding her lips in a breath-stealing, hungry kiss, already pawing as the button of her jeans.

“Is the door locked?” Breathless, Y/n spoke against her lips, smiling at how his beard scratched her face. Y/n was already in the process of finding the lapels of his jacket, ready to push it off his broad shoulders, when, answering her question instead of Keanu, was the sound of someone opening the door.

“Places in- '' Jackson stopped abruptly upon seeing them, and frazzled they instantly sprang apart. Immediately, Keanu folded his arms, backing away hastily to put some space between them while Y/n slumped against the edge of the counter, where various products had remained scattered. After months of hiding things, they’d gotten caught on their very last day on set. “I knew it!” Smirking defiantly, Jackson propped himself on the door-frame, “You two,” he pointed between them, “Are good actors, but terrible liars. Especially you,” he pointed accusingly to Keanu, who went all red in the cheeks, barely saved by his scruff covering half his face. 

“What?” Y/n croaked, her throat suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. She was fine with being discovered, but Keanu, she couldn’t tell what he’d do when they were alone. Maybe he’d decide that she wasn’t worth the risk. Maybe she should get to decide if he was worth another round of tears. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” maybe their resident mad genius wasn’t as mad and out of touch as they’d made him out to be. It was always the ones you didn’t suspect anyway. “Those little looks that you two share, the very realistic kisses. At first, I thought I’d struck a chemistry goldmine,” chuckling, Jackson shook his head, pushing up his glasses with his pointer, “But there was something about the way you hold her,” he turned to Keanu, his features softening, “I’d never seen in something,” making an elaborate gesture with his hands, Jackson searched the ceiling for the right word, “Manufactured.”

“I…..” She could tell he was flustered and uncomfortable, even from where she stood, almost two feet away. Keanu would have done everything to keep their so-called relationship in a box, away from the outside, away from something that would make it real.

Saving Keanu the trouble of having to find an excuse to deter his suspicions, Jackson's ability to be sociable left as quickly as it came, and in no time, he was back to his skittish, borderline intolerable self, “Well,” he clapped his hands dramatically, “I hope you two can keep up this momentum, it’ll be fantastic for press. We can tell the media that working together sparked your love and now, you’re inseparable, I’ll run in by the publicists,” already he was walking out of the room, expecting Y/n and Keanu to follow him, something they’d only caught up on when he’d already started down the long hall. Before they joined Jackson, Y/n tried to catch Keanu’s gaze, hoping to gauge his reaction, but he was actively avoiding her face, and that in itself was enough to tell her that he was not okay with what had gone down. 

“Your relationship is going to be a great selling point,” he continued, not caring for their objections, his mind already made up, “But anyways,” they’d just broken off onto the main floor, where things were already set up for the photo shoot, “We should get into the shoot, we’ve only got this guy for a couple hours, Gary had an emergency back home,” Jackson explained briskly, “But thankfully, Lucas here is an amazing photographer. Lucas!” Jackson snapped his fingers, beckoning over a tall, blonde figure.

When Y/n saw his face, she gasped, and she could have sworn that it was impossible for her jaw to not hit the floor. As if things couldn’t get worse. “It’s actually just…..” upon seeing her, he seemed just as shocked, though Y/n supposed that he should have had the upper hand, considering he should have known what movie he’d be doing the pictures for. “It’s just Luke,” he finished, shaking his head, looking bewildered, “Y/n.”

“Luke, you’re….” at a loss for words, Y/n couldn’t help but long for a spontaneous split in the earth to swallow her up and dump her straight into hell. At least there she wouldn’t have to deal with awkward situations with her current ‘sort of’ boyfriend and a ‘sort of ex-boyfriend’ that she’d never officially broken up with. “You’re doing the shoot?”

Clearing his throat, he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly as uncomfortable with it as she was, “I am, Y/n-”

“Well, lady and gents,” Jackson interrupted, apparently not noting the tension, “We’ve only got this place for a few more hours, so we should get started.”

“Yeah, okay,” Keanu was the one who’d spoken, and it was the first time since he’d been cut off by Jackson in the dressing in the dressing room that he’d even opened his mouth, two words said in a tone that was perfectly u readable, “Let’s do this,” without another word, he walked off in the direction of the set up, not even offering a backwards glance.

Y/n was about to break off from the group and do the same, when, just as Jackson moved away, Luke grabbed her arm in a loose grip, “Hey,” he offered her a faltering, faint smile, “Can we talk after?” 

His eyes were pleading, though, just as Y/n was going to tell him that they could, Jackson circled back, “Oh and Lucas,” he’d already completely forgotten, or perhaps he just wasn’t listening, Luke’s clarification of his name, “Get some some good ones of the happy couple.”

“Couple?” His gaze still penetrated Y/n’s sickened expression, though his brows now falling as hope drained from his face, “Right”

“Luke-”

“You know what?” He mustered up a brave face to hide his hurt, letting go of her arm and taking two steps back, “Never mind, let’s just get this done, okay?” And when she nodded, not really knowing how to remedy anything that had happened in the past thirty minutes, he turned away, “Great.”

Great?

No, it wasn’t great. Not really.

Music throbbed in his chest and the air was ignited by a buzz fueled by freely flowing alcohol and the relaxed, carefree demeanor of the cast and crew alike. Filming was finally over, they’d put in the hard work and they'd reap the rewards in about four or five months. He should have been enjoying the party like everyone else, but Keanu just couldn't.

So, instead, he'd gone out through the back of the club, lighting a cigarette between his lips and holding a half finished beer in his free hand. Since earlier that day, when Jackson had caught him and Y/n almost in the act, his mind had been bombarded with a flurry of thoughts. He was the one that had wanted what they had hidden, while simultaneously, Keanu was also the one making it glaringly obvious. That wasn't what he wanted; Y/n was making a fool of him, and fools got hurt. 

Keanu didn't want to get hurt.

Things had only gone even further downhill during the photo shoot and Keanu could tell that it was taking everything in Luke to not take a swing at him. Keanu couldn't blame him, if the roles were reversed he might have done the same. Y/n was……..absolutely astounding. She was breathtakingly gorgeous, incredibly intelligent and had a one in a million personality. She worth punches. She was worth more than he could give. Because as hard as Keanu had tried to convince himself that they could work, he knew that he was just postponing the inevitable. He couldn't be with her forever, he wasn't the forever kind of man and her affections already ran deeper than his by far. 

He couldn't do that to her anymore.

The fun was over.

Taking a pull from his smoke, blowing out a white puff seconds later, Keanu barely turned when the heavy iron door behind him in the dark alley way dragged open with a definitive wail. He knew who it was without even looking, he could smell her perfume, clinging to her satin skin and the shimmery black, mini slip dress that she'd slid into before they left her hotel room. He'd had her in that dress, while it was bunched up over her stomach and she was pressed against the wall of the living room, just before they'd left for the party. If only Keanu had known it was the last time he'd lay hands on Y/n again, he might have savored it more.

"You've been out here for a while," he knew that she'd picked up on his pensive mood a while ago, and though he hadn't asked, and not had she told him, Keanu could tell that there was something weighing heavy on Y/n's mind.

"I wanted a cigarette," he huffed, blowing out another cloud, finally glancing her way when she came to stand beside him, staying a few inches away. "Shouldn't you be inside?"

"Yeah," she chortled halfheartedly, rolling her eyes, taking a punctuating sip from her red disposable cup, "Shouldn't you?"

"I told you-"

"I heard you before," when Y/n cut him off, Keanu could sense a new malice in her voice, and growing defensive, he wondered where it came from.

"What's your problem?" He rolled his eyes, taking one last drag from the stub before tossing it to the ground and putting it out with the toe of his worn brown boot.

As it seemed, Keanu wasn't the only one putting up unwarranted defenses that night, as Y/n shot back, "My problem?" Moving around so he'd be forced to look at her, Y/n licked her lips, shaking her head, "You're the one who's been icing his girlfriend out."

And just like that, just as he fired his last, shitty attempt of a defense mechanism, Keanu chuckled dryly, not even thinking as he spoke, "You're not my girlfriend." Though, the minute he caught his foot in his mouth, Keanu tried to clarify, "Fuck, that's not-"

But it was too late, it was already out there and Keanu's words had hit Y/n like a bullet to the chest, "What?" Her anger, chased with insurmountable hurt and swirling confusion flared, driving what came next, "That's not what you meant?" She mocked, trying to suppress a sniffle, "What did you mean, huh? Did you mean that I'm just some girl you're fucking cause its convenient? Or did you mean that you were still seeing were this is going, and so far, it's not going like I'm your girlfriend," she took a breath, gathering her thoughts, "Well newsflash Keanu, maybe that's a good thing, maybe I don't want to be your fucking girlfriend!"

Her words were angry, but he could see past it, the cracks in her exterior shining through to show her pain. The tears in her ears, the break in her throat. Yet still, he didn't sympathize. If they were going to be like that then it was every man for themselves. "Well maybe that's good!" He yelled, not caring if anyone would hear them over the music, "Cause this isn't working for me."

"This isn't working for you?" Y/n repeated incredulously, "It was working for today, when you wanted to fuck me over a makeup table. It was working for you when we fucked while the car was waiting for us downstairs, right before we came here. God you're so…..ugh!" Through with it, ready to just be alone with her hurt, Y/n tossed her cup at him, watching as it bounced off his chest, the alcohol soaking his front, "You know, everyone thinks you're such a nice guy, but really, you're just another asshole. No wonder you're alone."

"I-" But his argument was muted, for in just seconds, Y/n was gone through the door again, slamming it on her way in, leaving Keanu to curse at the cold air as he spun and tossed his bottle to the grimy wall, the smashing filling his ears. That was it, they were over, and on his terms too. He'd been the one to pick the fight, fan the flame. Keanu wanted that, he wanted to be done so he could move on without falling too deep. And for a while, he'd told himself it would be easy because really, he'd barely let Y/n scratch his surface. 

A breakup was what he wanted. But as he stood there, face hot and eyes stinging by surprise, Keanu couldn't quite decipher why it hurt so bad. Why his breath had gone so ragged, why tears were falling down his face. Why his heart felt like it was breaking. 

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews  @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx​ @danceoftwowolves

[nearlymanaged]

4. Remus’ Secret

It had been a couple of weeks since Sirius had come out to his friends, but Moony still hadn’t flung himself into his arms, confessing unbridled attraction. If anything, he seemed more distant now. Almost as distant as he used to get every month before Sirius, James, and Peter found out about his furry little secret. They did have quite different schedules this year that sometimes caused them to not run into each other for half a day, but Remus’ strange coldness seemed to go beyond that.

Sirius was starting to feel a little hurt, thinking that maybe Remus wasn’t as okay with him being bisexual as he claimed, so he confronted him about it one evening in the common room. It turned out to be a rather anticlimactic exchange since Remus assured him, quite convincingly, that it was completely ridiculous of Sirius to even think that. He said he was simply tired all the time since they had come back to Hogwarts and then made some stupid joke about being ready for death to take him.

This particular evening he seemed perfectly energised and happy while doing homework with Evans in the corner of the common room. Sirius was sitting in one of the prime armchairs in front of the fireplace with James and Peter, and if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with repeatedly stealing glances at Moony and Evans, he would have seen that James was doing the same thing.

“Since when is Moony such good friends with Evans?” Peter unknowingly voiced what they were all thinking when the sound of Remus and Lily’s laughter filled the room momentarily.

“Nerd solidarity, I suppose,” Sirius mumbled, watching Remus push the sleeves of his jumper up, seemingly oblivious to how unexpectedly attractive that was.

“I never realised Ancient Runes homework was that much fun,” James mumbled, pouting slightly.

“Are you jealous, Prongs?” Sirius asked, a tickled grin spreading across his face.

“Aw, he is! Prongs is jealous!” Cackled Peter.

Just then, Remus walked over to them, still beaming. “Prongs is…” He glanced back at Lily over his shoulder. “Prongs is jealous?”

“No, I’m not,” James folded his arms over his chest, which didn’t help make his statement any more convincing.

“How curious,” Remus said brightly and made himself comfortable on the couch next to Peter while Sirius draped himself across the armchair, his head hanging off the side.

“D’you know what? I’m jealous too.” He looked over at Remus with a smirk.

“That’s messed up, Sirius. Lily’s the mother of James’ future children.”

“Who said anything about Evans?” Sirius locked eyes with Remus, that same smile still playing on his lips. For a second, Black thought he saw Moony blush, but he couldn’t tell whether it was just the flickering fire light playing tricks. Moony scrunched his eyebrows and turned away to point at the notice board.

“Did you lot see that? Hogsmeade dates have been posted.”

“Yeah, first one’s in a couple of weeks.” Peter nodded. “I’ve thought about this, and I think the best thing for me to do is ask Lydia if she wants to meet up in Three Broomsticks. Then she won’t feel like she has to spend the whole day with me...but if she wanted to, she could.”

“Wormtail.” Sirius impatiently propped himself back up. “Why wouldn’t she want to spend the day with you? You need to have more confidence, mate.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not. You think it was easy for me to listen to my dear mother list all the ways in which I’m a disappointment for years?”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just saying, you can’t please everyone, but you can’t let that get to you. Lydia seems pretty interested in you, and even if it doesn’t work out in the end, well...c'est la vie,” Sirius ended his little pep talk with a shrug and Peter went back to his essay, looking slightly more bewildered than before.

“Anyway,” Remus enunciated slowly. “Perfect timing, I have just about enough chocolate to last me two weeks.”

* * *

The heavy clouds above the castle seemed to be turning a darker shade of grey every day, and the sixth years were becoming more and more stressed with every lesson. Now that Remus had positively become friends with Lily Evans, he was thanking his lucky stars for it. He strongly suspected he might have lost his mind without someone to do Ancient Runes homework with.

He also noticed that Lily didn’t mind being in James’ immediate vicinity as much anymore, and James in turn had halted his incessant hitting on her for the time being. Remus had also noticed that Sirius hadn’t been spotted snogging or asking anyone out in quite a while; in fact, it hadn’t happened once since the beginning of term. He couldn’t help but harbour a secret hope that it would go on indefinitely and then he wouldn’t have to pretend that seeing Sirius with someone else didn’t bother him.

Although realistically, he didn’t really count on that. Especially since Sirius had come out about being bisexual. That just meant that now Sirius could choose out of twice the amount of people who were more attractive than his boring old friend.

Still, Remus could not refrain from coming up with imaginary scenarios in his head, in which Sirius would ask him out or confess his feelings for him, or kiss him… Initially, completely against his own will, Remus let his hopes go up just a tiny bit (that’s when the daydreaming started in full force), so he started avoiding Padfoot as a means of self preservation. That hadn’t lasted very long though, because Sirius interpreted that as Remus having a problem with him and confronted him about it...

This particular morning, a few days before the Hogsmeade trip, saw the castle brutally whipped by ice-cold rain. It was looking like their Saturday was going to be spent sipping butterbeer indoors instead of wandering around the village.

“You’ve got jam on your face, did you know?” Sirius grabbed a napkin without missing a beat, leaned over the breakfast-laden table, and dabbed the corner of Remus’ mouth. “There you go, skip along now, my love.”

Remus, who had just announced that he needed to leave to make it to Ancient Runes on time, felt his ears go ablaze, the colour spreading to his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why it startled him so much. Surely, Sirius would have done the same to either James or Peter, wouldn’t he have? That was just how he was. “Right,” Remus cleared his throat, gathering his composure. “I’ll see you lot at lunch then.”

“Wait up, Lupin!” Lily caught up with him in the middle of the entrance hall. “So I’ve noticed…” She began brightly, yet hesitantly but then trailed off. “Are...are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, what do you mean…” Remus tried to sound normal, very aware that he was still blushing. “What have you noticed?”

“Nothing. How did you get on with the Einang stone essay?”

They talked about their homework all the way to the sixth floor, but Remus couldn’t shake off the feeling that Lily was going to say something about the scene at breakfast. He wasn’t even sure that Peter and James had noticed it, but he had gathered by now that Lily was a lot more perceptive than most people. Plus, she kept giving him strange looks all throughout the Ancient Runes lesson and then it continued on the very windy grounds (it had stopped raining), during Care of Magical Creatures.

“Obviously, you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to, but...” Lily began, her voice ever so gentle, while they were making detailed sketches of fwoopers with notes about all their magical properties. “But can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask, yes.”

“Do you like boys?”

Remus stared at her with a mixture of surprise and horror, until he felt a sharp pain in his hand - he had squeezed the little bird he was using for reference so tightly that it pecked at his flesh angrily. “Why-- Why do you ask?” He tried to sound politely surprised as he shook his hand in the air.

“Please don’t get upset with me,” Lily was gazing at him tentatively with her brow furrowed now. “I’ve noticed a while ago now, sometime last year… And then lately, since you and I... I couldn’t help it, really. I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think that no one’s watching…”

Remus felt a strange mixture of his heart sinking and feel lighter all at once. Now that someone else knew, it felt like that would make it easier to carry this secret around, somehow. He blankly stared at his half finished sketch for a moment before speaking in a low, determined voice. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“You have my word.”

“Not that it matters anyway,” he added before he could stop himself.

“How do you mean? Is it because you’ve been friends for so long?”

“Well that too, but… I mean, look at me,” he laughed out uncomfortably rather with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, I am…?”

“I’m about as exciting as Binns’ lessons, with a sweet bonus of ugly scars.”

Remus was surprised by how open he was with Lily. Curiously, it was really easy to talk to her about it. He’d shared so many secrets, confessions, and pains with his three friends, that sometimes he felt like he had maxed out, like he didn’t want to trouble them with any more of his problems. But it was different with Lily, perhaps because they were just becoming friends.

“I don’t think that about you at all, if you care to know,” she informed him, a strange spark lighting up her eyes. “I’ve grown to like you a lot lately and I can objectively say that you are tenfold better than what you seem to think about yourself.”

“You’re only saying that because you thought my friends and I were enormous pricks for years,” Remus smirked at her, feeling his heart grow to twice its size in his chest. “That’s a low bar.”

“Thought?” Lily grinned devilishly, making them both laugh. “Seriously, the more I’m getting to know you, the more I feel like maybe your friends can’t be all that awful after all. You are a beautiful person, Remus. You are!” She added when he rolled his eyes again.

“Sure, Evans.”

“I’ve heard he’s into boys too.” Lily ignored Lupin’s retort and then her face split into an excited smile.

Remus rolled his eyes once more… And yet, he couldn’t help but feel happier and lighter for the rest of the day, even when it started raining again towards the end of Cary of Magical Creatures.

[dyker-farmer]

Ok this was supposed to be a quick draw and a description to go with, that blew into a full chapter and now it's also on Ao3 SO happy reading ig idk

I never see Shane works that don't go all in for romance nor explore the more realistic ugly parts of recovery, and I kind of crave That TM. So let me have at it too with the self-insert whump mumbo jumbo; no romo version.

Set post-8 hearts event, Farmer Uidelsib is two years or so in, full house built and married to Emily. They/them pronouns, same as me.

Diverges from then on, Shane-centric from an outside POV for the most part.

[[MORE]]

Take that can away if you can.

Gulp it down. Chapter 1/2/3/4

There's a few to-know to survive life in society, in the valley; there's no good way to comment on the age nor weight of both resident housewives, you can't say no to Evelyn's homemade cookies- and why would you, you fool-, you do not fight at the Saloon or you'll get no cheese anymore on your pizza and only sparkling water for drinks, and-

And you don't mess with Shane's alcohol related ritual.

Except I did, that night, because you do that, when your two-years long friendship with the guy taught you better than letting his impulses overcome yours, when your buddy is trying to recover from teenage long-lasting into early adulthood, trauma-enhanced heavy addiction, and you know, you know tomorrow he'll feel like absolute shit and question his right to therapy the moment he'll stop his pounding skull from splitting. Wonders what a three-dosage paracetamol can do. 

At least he doesn't drink it out anymore.

So yeah, when you're in my shoes, you get that Joja store-bought crap out of Shane's hand, and you brace yourself for the incoming lash out.

The first fractions of seconds are always those to look closely into most. It's only a glimpse, but before the scowl slips on like a well-worn boxing glove ready to strike, there is always this open page I learned I needed to decipher as quick as I could.

Tonight, it's heartbreaking. When I peck his forehead- doting big sibling habits die hard, even when you're actually the youngest of the pair- the eyes I catch looking at me are so confused and bare of any emotion, except for the sorrow that goes beer-soaked tears, it pangs. I get used to the breakdowns, working in the fields I do when I'm off the farm's, but it's not the same when it's a friend.

When I straighten back, offensive beverage in hand, it's already gone in a flinch, away from the empty space behind the chair and onto the table, as he snarls.

"Wha- giv'me back- 's mine!" I don't know how much he drunk before he met up with me, but from the slurring, it's a Lot. A season and a half into sobriety. That's harsh.

I ignore him and walk behind him, pondering where to put the beer for now.

"Y-you can't just do that! It's my booze I got with m'money, not some- who d'you think you are?-" He sputters indignantly, angry tears fewer than the sad ones but still there. He tries to turn around and grab behind his back, but the wild movement is way off and only gets the chair to nearly topples down. I rush in time to stabilize it, and profit off the moment to set a strong hand on his shoulder.

"I can just do that, 'cus it's my house I got with my money, and I think I'm your pal who knows when you've had enough. Dude, I trust you to be an adult, but minutes before, you were already so torched I had to keep your neck upright so you didn't faceplant into the table, and you nearly just kissed my floor good evening. Not to mention you clung to my arms the whole way from the little entry stairs to the kitchen because, quoting, 'If I don't I'll fall in the hole and won't get up'."

I turn to the fridge again, going to open it, before I think better of it. Likely enough, we'll both forget it was there in the first place, it'll stink up my fridge- it's Joja's- and it'll be money out of Shane's pocket for nothing. I set it on the counter, with the rest of the pack. He'll put it to cool down when he's back to Marnie's. Or he won't, probably. 

That's not a worry for now.

When I caught up with him, it was a few feet below my doorstep; he'd probably slipped up trying to climb the three steps up to it, and settled for it. He was nursing that same can, muttering to himself, head down, curled up on himself. Except for that leg sticked out, he probably hurt it when he fell, I'll have to look at that and work on it if it's too swollen. Hopefully that'll spare us from a visit to Harvey's.

Bad memories. Not mine, and it's warm and not raining outside, but. Déjà-vu.

Anyways, he looked the picture of "help I've fallen and I can't get up- and even if I can I won't because Fuck You", and it's been a hassle to have him cooperate. But when I asked if he wanted to leave, he shook his head with a fervor no somnolent drunk should have. That resulted in a lovely streak of vomit down the wall right next to the door. That's also for later. If Eryza doesn't lap it up. Ew. This cat's never predictable.

Now, he's staring at his hands, sitting at my table, contemplating something too far down for me to see- or maybe just zoning out with a sleeping brain. Then he mumbles. "Sorry."

I get back to the table and sit at arm's length across of him. "Nah, 's okay. I don't mind being a helping hand or touchy-feely, must be the frog-eater in me. Not for the helping part." I'd chuckle but my quip falls on deaf ears.

I go to put my hand over his. When he doesn't blink at it, I try and shake a reply out of him, gently. He startles and hawkeyes our joined fingers. When he's finally looking at me, I raise a single eyebrow. He doesn't say anything, but when he pulls back his arm, I let him. We both straighten up, and it's hard to keep up the eye contact.

"So…" There's a heavy air on us. Suddenly, like the last year didn't happen, we're sitting a stride away of each other, and yet it feels like he's all the way back to the forest, looking down at waves.

"Do you want me to do something?" I bend myself a little closer to him, not moving otherwise.

He puts his head in his hands, shivering. Can't tell if it's the AC or his system kicking the alcohol out, or itself, in stress. I think I hear something, but it might as just be his shuddering breath.

"Shane" I insist, voice level, not pressing. "I need words. I want to help, I truly don't mind, but I need words to know what to do." He's never shown signs of going nonverbal before. If he does, I'll improvise. Until then… I need words.

Time ticks slowly as we wait. Then, with great effort and deep fatigue, he drags his palms up from under his nose to his temple, spreading some snot and wet tears across his face from his scrunched shut eyes. Lips trembling but finally showing, that attempt to let out a sound that's not too garbled. He coughs, sniffles a bit, breathe in again, sounding like a sick dog, and blows through gritted teeth before his jaws go slack. Eyes still closed, he whispers, and I have to lower myself some more toward his crouched form to catch it.

"Can I get something to drink…?" His voice is hoarse.

The demand could be comical, if we were into sour humor. And we usually are. But right now, we're not finding the joke in the lines. I stand silently, and as I walk to the fridge again, I let my hand brush his shoulder- same spot as before.

I take a minute to choose, look into the pantry. When I'm back at the table with my items of choice, he's still sitting there, his cheek is cushioned on his arms, face hidden from view. His shoulder, except for the occasional tremor, rise and fall in rythm with his snores. Breaks my heart to interrupt that, but not really. Hangovers are mean bitches with the sharpest nail art on the blackest of boards.

"Psst, dude. C'mon." I rustle his hair backward. He hates when I do that, says it tickles, and it makes him sneeze. So I obligatory do it once a day if I can. Let's say today's my late quota for the last four days I haven't seen him.

He gruffly tells me to kindly refrain from such pleasantries, and raise bleary eyes back up at the table. I can also guess he tried to bat a hand at me, but his coordination is off and he slaps himself lightly on the ear. Then he glares bewildered at his hand for a few seconds, obviously insulted. I profit of this moment to grab a small basin from under the sink, on second thought.

When he brings his attention back to me, I'm sitting again. Between us, a jug of fresh milk from this morning, a small sack of peppers, and a juice carafe sit aside a green glass bottle. There's also some bread, mostly for me to munch on. Because, hmmm dough. He squints at it all, especially at the bottle. Probably trying to read the label.

"Yeah no, didn't get you one of my best wine, not sorry."

"Hot pepper… juice?" He looks at the actual peppers next to it. "With actual peppers?" And then I get the squint too.

"Hmph, I know you like your elongated hell tomatoes, man, what can i say."

At that, a feeble snort.

I decide that it is the highlight victory of my soirée.

"Welp, have at it." I gesture to the half-liter liquor glass right by his left.

He fumbles with the drinks and some splashes around, but I lay back on my chair, arms crossed, letting him do his thing. While I don't hold back from growing downright doting on him when I got to- or even when I don't- I don't see how more devotion right now would be not smothering. He can break my fancy glass cups if he wants and spill my milk, so long he doesn't cut himself or cry over it.

Now, you could be thinking that plain water would have done the trick just fine, if not better, in rehydrating him. Here's the thing, though; going from booze to tasteless liquid, for Shane, that's a sure way to puking his heart out. And I'd rather not have us deal with an acid bile throat burn on top of near alcohol poisoning. Sorry to not spare you the squeamish details, but his oesophagus is pretty sensitive ever since that stomach pumping back at the clinic. Hot fiery hell fruits he can do just fine, with relative moderation and hydratation- hence the milk and juice- but liquor bursting its way back from his guts? Nuh uh. 

It had taken lots of coaxing, but he'd explained the plain tastes, or lackthereof, were very hard for him to deal with, especially when contrasting with strong ones like beers and whiskeys. I'd shackle it to gustative hypostimulation, but I don't know enough about him that way to say. He'd said sparkling water was a good compromise.

But I don't have sparkling water, because I do not like suffering.

I might buy a pack for when he visits though.

And I do know a handful about him already. Shackle that to perceptiveness and a stubborn streak on top of a year and so long camaraderie.

And having a certain uncontrollable fear of failing to act quick the next time coped with by accumulating information and patterns compulsively.

I shake my head to focus on the present again. He's switched from juices to soaking bread in milk to eat it small portion after small portion. He pauses in mid-bite when he catches me staring. He's still hunched on himself and red-faced and a tad bloated. His cheeks are drying and he's blown his nose. I smile calmly. Worst of the storm passed, unless I screw up and blow it.

"Ywou wan' chom'?" He offers a dripping piece of bread. In moments like this, when he's sobering but not quite, the resemblance with Jas are unmistakable. The glint in his reddened eyes that open wide, and his blank-but-not-quite wondering expression, it's all here to paint a scrutinizing but vulnerable picture of tired but bright minds.

"Nah thanks. You done with that milk?"

"...Sure." He eyes it, wary. He knows where this is going, and he doesn't like it. I take the drink off the table, and his gaze follows my movement until I bring it to my lips.

He frowns. A silent warning. 

And as I lock onto him with a dead stare, not blinking a millisecond, I down the rest of the 2 liters jug in three, five gulps. I even take the time to lick my new mustache away, and close my mouth with a click of my tongue.

His expression is the macabre marriage of beffudled horror and pure affliction, disgust if you will. The face of someone who doesn't hate milk, but has grown out of it enough to not be able to live off the stuff like the brave souls I'm apart of. And probably with reason, as I actually can't, like most 20+ years old, digest the liquid in large amount. But I smile like a smug cat, perfectly content.

Cats really can't digest milk once adults, it's all social mythos.

We silently judge and fuck with each other like that for a while more, as more time passes, until the room's elephant gets it all humid with its prancing around. Enough that tears and nervous sweats start again, for no apparent reasons but the residual anxiety from the whole chain of events that led to this.

"I think we should talk about this."

--- to be continued.

[iwhumpyou]

Gift (Part 2)

Masterlist.  Raider.

Part 1.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Riya was honestly surprised to drift back to consciousness, much less consciousness with a ceiling painted with flowers.  Very realistic flowers.  

It took Riya a second to realize that the flowers were moving, and the resulting jerk backwards had assured her that she was not dead – it hurt far too much – and she was on the right side of gravity.  Riya curled up as much as she dared and tried to breathe slowly through the pain as she catalogued her injuries.

Ribs, definitely.  Her hips throbbed, sore and aching.  Her right thigh, the one that had been skewered, jolted with flashes of tugging pain.  Her left leg was curiously numb, in a way that Riya didn’t want to think too much about.  She didn’t want to think at all, because her head was screaming at her with every thought.

She uncurled slowly when the pain was mangeable again, only then realizing that someone else was in the room.  Her head gave a particularly vicious throb when she recognized the white-haired witch in the doorway.

“You’re awake,” Ekaterina said indifferently, “Raiders really are cockroaches.  You are all impossible to kill.”

Riya respectfully disagreed – Killian had given it a good try and would’ve probably succeeded if she hadn’t been found.

“You healed me,” Riya said quietly, because she remembered Ekaterina’s rage-filled voice on the phone. She remembered begging.

It was the wrong thing to say.  Ekaterina’s face twisted instantly, into a glare so potent Riya had to check to make sure she wasn’t on fire.  “I didn’t do it for you,” she spat, “You should thank all your stars that Laila has a soft spot for broken things.”  With that, she disappeared from the doorway.

A new figure appeared in it soon enough.  “Lee,” Riya said, the affectionate nickname slipping out – she almost smiled, but Laila winced at her greeting, standing half in the doorway like she wasn’t sure she wanted to enter.  Riya faltered and Laila took a hasty step inside – Riya wondered how bad she had to look to bring that expression onto Laila’s face.

“Riya,” Laila smiled like she was unsure she wanted to smile, “You’re awake.”

“Thank you,” Riya said plainly, “For coming to save me.”

“I couldn’t let the head raider die in my city,” Laila said, still smiling, but there was a bite to her tone, like it wasn’t just a joke, “Think of the paperwork.”

Of course.  Riya had wanted to hear – foolish things.  Dreams, or wishes.  They hadn’t spoken in weeks and Laila had made her opinion of raiders very clear.  Hadrian had been a threat to them all and the fact that she hadn’t stuck around after that spoke clearer than words.  The fact that Riya wanted to hold her hand and make her smile and listen to her laugh was…was inconsequential.  They weren’t even friends.  Laila had a duty to the city. 

And Riya would absolve her of that soon enough.

“Not head raider for much longer,” she said lightly.

“What?”

“Not head raider for much longer,” Riya repeated, thinking of the letter she’d sent home and the furious responses it had prompted.  She had stuck fast though – to stand by in the face of evil was evil.  She had just preferred working within the confines of the laws the others had been so ready to break.  And she had found the right one.  She had known the consequences and been prepared to expect them.  It was why the others leaving hadn’t hurt as much as it could’ve – she would’ve been kicked out sooner rather than later. “Perhaps not even now.”  Raiders never preferred to wait. 

“You’re being recalled?” Laila frowned, “Why?”

Recalled.  Riya wanted to laugh at the word, but she was conscious of her ribs and limited herself to a painful chuckle.  Laila’s frown deepened.  “Internal politics,” Riya said.  Lee didn’t need to know the details.  “You know how it is.  So while I am very grateful to you for helping me in my time of need, it might be best if I leave.”  She slowly, painfully levered herself up into a sitting position, taking short, fast breaths.

“Might be best,” Laila repeated slowly and Riya wanted to groan.  That was Laila’s I’m-going-to-be-difficult-now tone of voice and the absolute last thing she wanted to do with injuries and a killer headache was get into an argument with Laila.

Another thing she didn’t want to do was go limping and injured to hunt for shelter in a city where every third creature in the shadows wanted her dead, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Best for who?”

Riya pasted a smile on her face.  “Best for all concerned,” she said.

“If you’re going back to your headquarters, I can call Kate or Tanner to give you a lift,” Laila offered.

“Thank you, but I’m not going back to headquarters.”  Riya was trying to focus on maneuvering both her legs out of bed, which was proving to be difficult when one limb was numb.

“I thought you were being recalled,” Laila said.

“Did I say that?” Riya hummed, not looking at her.  One leg down.

“Where are you going, Riya?” Laila asked and Riya did not have the energy to create a lie she wouldn’t see through.

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” she said softly, looking up, “But I’m sure you understand that offering me sanctuary might not be in your best interests.”

Laila looked like she understood no such thing.  “So let me get this straight,” she purred, and had Riya the energy to quail, she would’ve. “You’re planning on walking –” she shot a skeptical look at Riya’s legs, “Out of here and into one of the most dangerous cities in the world, injured, alone, hunting for shelter because…because what?  The raiders kicked you out?”

“I believe the official term is discharged,” Riya said softly, staring at her hands, “So, you see, I’m not the head raider, you have no obligation to host me and I’m sure it would be difficult to explain to your alliances why you’re helping an ex-raider –”

She hadn’t seen Laila step closer until the woman placed a finger on her mouth, halting her words. “They will understand,” she said quietly, “That I’m doing a favor for my friend.” 

Something in Riya’s heart jumped.  “I didn’t know if I was still your friend,” she almost whispered.

“You called me for help,” Laila reminded her, “And I came.  It does not matter to me whether your council recognizes you or not.  You can stay here and heal.”  She raised an eyebrow pointedly and Riya gingerly pulled herself back on the bed.

“Rest,” Laila said, and there must’ve been magic in her words because Riya felt her eyes closing as she slipped away. 

~#~

Riya frowned as Laila walked up to the sink to clean her plates by hand, rather than just waving a hand and letting them do it themselves.  It was the sixth or seventh such occurrence she’d noted, Laila doing things by hand, and she was curious enough to brave the combined glares of Ekaterina and Tanner to ask.  Besides, she was bored and itchy and had restless energy thrumming inside of her that she couldn’t use because she hadn’t fully healed – she was positive Ekaterina was healing her as slow as she possibly could. 

“Has your magic not returned yet?”  It seemed like an innocent question, but Riya shrank back into the couch cushions as Laila dropped the plate, Ekaterina turned and gave her a look like she was about to shoot lasers out of her eyes and Tanner’s eyes went red.

“I’m sorry?” Laila asked, wide-eyed.

Riya swallowed and asked again, quieter this time.  “Has your magic not returned yet?  From your fight with Hadrian?”  Ekaterina and Tanner now both looked like they’d like nothing more than to eviscerate her – it was honestly not a depth of hatred she’d ever seen before, especially directed at her.

Laila still looked shocked, hurt, and confused.  “What do you mean, my magic returned?”

“Your fight with Hadrian,” Riya was mumbling now, “You said you’d need to give your magic for it. It’s been three weeks already – usually you recover magic faster than that, but you’re doing things by hand. Has it not replenished fully?”

Laila shot a bewildered look at Ekaterina, but the other witch ignored it.  “Riya, I gave up my magic,” she said slowly.

“Sorry,” Riya apologized, “Does it replenish slower if you use it all at once?”  Maybe this was a weakness they didn’t like to talk about – it would explain Ekaterina’s scorching glare. 

“Riya,” she said slowly, “I didn’t use my magic.  I gave it up.  That was what the spell required.  No amount of magic would be enough – it had to be a sacrifice.”

Riya didn’t understand. She wasn’t understanding at all, because whatever she thought Laila was saying was too horrible to be true.

“It doesn’t replenish slowly,” Laila continued, “It won’t replenish at all.  I can no longer use magic.  I am a mortal now.”

“No, that doesn’t –” Riya’s throat was thick, “No, you can’t –”  Finally, she settled on, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did,” Laila said and Riya remembered her saying something about a spell that would use all her magic but she hadn’t thought – she had been too busy – she never wanted –

With growing horror, she realized that Laila had told her she would sacrifice her magic and life to defeat Hadrian and Riya had only given her a few dismissive words.

“I didn’t know that was what you meant,” she said, choked.  There was a badly suppressed scoff from Ekaterina, who was still glaring at her.  Tanner was watching her with red eyes and a hint of fang.  

Laila smiled tiredly, “I’m sorry for not explaining things further at the time, but we had to lock Hadrian away.”

Riya wanted to explain to her that she didn’t know, that she would never have let her, that some things were not worth the cost, but Laila had turned away and she couldn’t manage more words under the weight of two hateful stares.

~#~

Laila smiled as Riya limped out of the bedroom.  The girl had been subdued ever since she’d asked Laila about her magic and while a part of her felt sorrow for Riya’s clear distress, another part of her, a part that had broken and torn at her insides with sharp edges, the part that had heard Riya’s dismissive ‘then do it already’ when Laila spoke of sacrificing her very nature – that part had sighed in relief.  Riya hadn’t known.  She hadn’t been callous and cruel, hadn’t just been using her like Kate had whispered caustically.  She simply hadn’t understood.

Of course, Kate had an opinion on that as well but since her entire opinion was that Riya was a dirty, manipulative liar, Laila felt quite justified in ignoring it.

It also made more sense why Riya had called her – she had thought Laila herself could help her, instead of Tanner’s theory that she’d hit her head and all she remembered was asking for Laila’s help.

Riya had been preoccupied the past few days though, reading through Laila’s books after quietly asking for permission.  She looked fidgety now and she almost hesitated when she saw Laila’s wordless invitation to sit on the couch.

“How are you feeling today?” Laila asked, shifting the cups aside – by hand, and that still ached, every time she reached for a magic that wasn’t there – to make room for Riya.

The ex-raider stiffly perched on the edge of the cushion and actually appeared to give the question some thought.  “Better, I think,” she said, frowning.

“You think?” Laila teased, “Are you not sure?”

Another long pause. “I’ll know for sure in a few minutes,” Riya said, and she was staring at Laila in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.  Her words had a weight behind them and Laila’s smile became more artificial as the stare continued.

“What are you talking about?” Laila asked softly.  Riya turned towards her, pulling her unbroken leg up and Laila shifted to accommodate her. But Riya kept getting closer and Laila tried to give her more space until her back hit the arm of the couch and she realized that was Riya’s intention.

The other girl was looming over her, one arm braced on the back of the couch, one arm next to Laila and if it had been anyone else, she would’ve felt scared.  But Riya had done this so many times, stealing a kiss or initiating a longer makeout session that Laila was just confused. 

They weren’t together. Laila was quite clear on that – Riya not wanting her to sacrifice herself didn’t wipe the slate of the problems they’d been having before that.  But Riya was still looking at her with that strange intensity, that combination of hope and desperation.

“A gift freely given,” Riya said, her lips red, and Laila felt her blood run cold. She could feel heat emanating from the ex-raider’s body.  “Can be returned.”  She leaned down and pressed a kiss against Laila’s lips, gentle-soft.

Laila could feel her lips begin to burn.  “No!” she tried to gasp out as she attempted to push Riya off but Riya’s hands were vice grips on her wrists now, pinning her down and fear began to churn in her heart. The raider was stronger than her mortal body, even injured, and Laila began to struggle harder and harder as the heat grew nearly unbearable.

There was a soft sigh and Riya pulled away slightly as Laila choked down the fire, trying to avoid swallowing it but being unable to stop the sensation flooding through her body. “No!” she screamed and the pressure of Riya’s body disappeared and she opened tear-blurred eyes to see Tanner pinning the ex-raider to the wall.

“No,” she sobbed as the fire raced through her veins, feeling less and less unbearable with every passing second and more and more like home.  

“What did you do?” Laila shouted at no one because Tanner’s eyes were red and Riya was choking under his crushing grip and Kate came running out of the next room and Laila knew. The heat didn’t dissipate, it was more like Laila’s body adjusted to match it and it was easy.  She was a witch.  It was what she had been born to do.

The physical ache she’d almost forgotten about disappeared in a rush that left her head spinning. It was an intoxicating mix of emotions – her magic and body cried out in sharp relief at being reunited but Laila’s mind knew that this was bad and she didn’t want to acknowledge it at all.

“Lee!  Laila!  Laila, please!”  She heard Kate’s voice as reality began to reassemble, felt her best friend’s hands gripping her arms.  Kate looked both panicked and murderous and Laila blinked, feeling the tears slip down her cheeks.  “Laila, talk to me, please!  What happened?”

Laila just looked down at her hands, tears still streaming down her cheeks.  Kate followed her gaze as Laila uncurled her fingers, half-expecting, half-hoping to see nothing.  

Both of them stared as fire bloomed in the palm of her hands.

Kate scrambled back instantly.  “What? How?” she stared at flames as Laila wept at this final, irrevocable proof.  She had her magic back.

“How?” Kate breathed out. Laila lifted her gaze to Riya – Tanner’s grip had loosened somewhat in shock, but the raider was still choking, black, viscous blood dribbling past her lips.  

“Kate,” she said, because the words had been spoken, the magic had returned, and all the sobbing in the world wouldn’t change that.  “Kate, please – the poison.  Can you heal it?”

Kate still looked confused – she hadn’t been there when the raiders had brought a dying Riya to her doorstep and begged her to heal a poison that had no cure – but Tanner sucked in a short, sharp breath and stopped looking so vicious.

“The poison!” Laila gestured to Riya as the ex-raider began to seize.  Tanner tried to contain her to the floor as Riya vomited up black blood a few times.  She fell still and silent, her eyes closed and if Laila couldn’t see her chest rise and fall, she could believe the raider was dead.

Kate knelt at Riya’s side, clearly still confused but prioritizing and Laila stayed at the edge of the couch, still crying, because it felt like the cruelest joke in the world.

Riya had, injured and alone, found a way to give her magic back to her.  But in doing so, she had ensured that Laila would never be able to help her with that magic again.

~#~

Part 3.

[danysghost-archive]

True Rulers, 3

Blurb: What if the Seven Kingdoms, for once in their whole shit history, were ruled by a just woman and an honorable man?

Word Count: 2032 (WOW OKAY)

Warnings: ONE swear word lmao

A/N: here is chapter three!! thank you @miladyaryastark for giving it a look over beforehand, if she didn’t do that, this chapter would be WAY worse. here are chapters one and two so you can catch up, here is the ao3 link, and please enjoy!

The king and queen were sitting in the throne room, each in their own chair. Even before Gendry was elected, he found the sight of the Iron Throne ghastly. Arya herself had never cared for it, more for her enemies who had previously sat there. And so, after very little discussion, they had asked Daenerys if she would destroy it. She was more than willing, as was Drogon. They designed their new seats themselves, neither bigger or more ornate than the other. From the start of their marriage, it was always a shared rule. The smallfolk were slow to adjust, but once they witnessed the power the two had together, there were no more questions.

Now, less than 10 hours after revealing her pregnancy to Gendry, the queen was focusing all her energy on the issues of the smallfolk. It was a day for them to present their problems and seek help, which Arya could not have been more grateful for. “Sir, please come forward,” she called to the next man in line. “Please, speak.”

Gendry wanted to listen. The smallfolk were a huge priority of his, considering he’d been one of them for the first 23 years of his life. But the elderly man in front of him was quickly tuned out. His mind was drawn to his conversation with Arya last night. They hadn’t talked about having kids, not that he never considered it. But now it was real, which make him happy. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that Arya wasn’t excited. And if she wasn’t, what would she ask of Maester Sam? What would she do to herself, and to their unborn child inside her?

“You’re Grace?” her voice gently called.

Gendry looked over to her, and then to the man in front of them. “Ahem, well… what do you think, my queen?”

Arya gave him a small smile and looked back to the man. “Sir, we will send two men from the city guard to help you reinforce you fences. They will assist you for the next week. Is that alright?” When the man nodded, Arya rose from her seat. “Thank you everyone, but we must take our leave. You may speak again in a fortnight.”

Gendry stood as well, nodding in agreement. “Yes, thank you all.” The guards escorted everyone out of the throne room and shut the doors behind them. He offered his hand to Arya, beginning his way down the steps. “Samwell is waiting for us in his surgery. We need to inform him of the child.” He watched, though, as the queen refused his assistance, and stomped her way down the stairs.

“I don’t want to go down there. It stinks to all the Seven Hells, and I’m sick enough as it is.” She quickly combed her fingers through the half of her hair that was down. The other half was intricately braided. She might not have been a fan of the dresses of a typical lady, but she had no problem letting her hand maids teach her fancy twists. They kept her wild locks out of her eyes all the same. “Besides, I’d like to tell Jon before I tell a maester. He’s my family, as much as you are, and I’d like to let him know.”

“Let him know what?” The clear, strong voice of Jon rang out through the throne room. He was standing in the back entrance.

Arya smiled and started to run towards him, but stopped after the first few steps. “It’s good to see you again, Jon.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him in Gendry’s direction. “We were just discussing the upcoming meeting. Sansa and Yara will be coming, so I was proposing the idea of them getting married.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “What do you think?”

Her brother let out a slightly condescending laugh. “Arya, they would have to change their laws. They may be independent, but their people are still nervous to change. It’ll take a few years before ladies are allowed to marry each other anywhere. At least in Westeros.” He shook Gendry’s hand and gave a quick bow. They were family, so most formalities were excused.

Arya folded her arms. “Well, maybe we’ll start changing them. Sooner, rather than later.”

The king put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Arya. Tell him.” His voice was soft. He didn’t want to push her, not in her state. But he knew keeping it from Jon too long would only make things worse.

Jon looked between them. “What’s wrong?” His eyes landed on his sister. “Arya?”

The lady shot an angry glare at her husband, and slammed her foot on top of his. The heel of her boots crushed his smaller toes, cracking the joints. “Thanks a lot.” She straightened her bodice, which was now looser than she normally had it. “You’d better not be angry with me.” Her voice was threatening, but it hid a shyness that not many got to see.

Jon shook his head. “Why would I be angry?”

She took a deep breath, passing one final look to Gendry. “Because… I’m carrying Gendry’s child.” Her eyes were steel daggers on her brother’s face; waiting, watching to see how he would react.

Gendry himself, on the other hand, wore a completely bewildered look. He may be the king, but Jon was Arya’s older brother. There was an automatic protection, and for Gendry, danger.

The Northman broke into a grin, and kissed Arya’s cheek. “I’m very happy for you.” Almost immediately after, he slung an arm around Gendry’s shoulders, pulling him in tightly. He leaned in, their foreheads nearly touching. “If anything happens to my sister while she carries that child, I will lob your cock off so fast, you won’t even know it’s gone.”

Arya scoffed and pulled the two apart. “Oh, please, I’m going to be fine. Sam is the best maester we could hope for. Besides, compared to everything else… how hard could being pregnant be?”

Just then, the creaking of the main doors cut the silence. “You’re pregnant?”

The trio turned.

It was Sansa. Standing in the open doors, wearing a dark blue gown, embroidered with a direwolf across the chest, weirwood leaves along the hem, and snowflakes down the sleeves. She wore her silver crown atop her straight red hair. She was a vision to behold, as always. She drifted across the floor, Ser Brienne appearing behind her, quickly meeting her siblings and the king near the other end of the room. “You’re pregnant,” she directed to Arya again, this time not a question. She was smiling, but trying to hide it by biting her lip. Sansa, while still sharp of mind, had gotten back some of the excitable, young girl she used to be. Arya knew it was taking a lot for her not to immediately start suggesting names.

The queen raised her eyebrows at her husband. “My dear, I think we need thicker doors.” The girls bowed to each other, in respect of their own kingdoms, and quickly hugged. They all made their way to the royal dining room for supper, updating each other on their lives. Sansa and Yara had arranged trade deals between the North and the Iron Islands, moving through the proper channels to hopefully unite both kingdoms. The two had met at the council meeting after the taking of Kings Landing, and as queens of independent kingdoms, thought it would be good to keep in touch. Arya wasn’t surprised when she heard they were together.

“I knew there was something there!” Arya bellowed. “Any time you mentioned her, it got more and more romantic. You can’t fool me, sister.” She took a sip of ale, passing a smirk to Sansa.

The Northern queen couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not my fault you use those wild assassin skills as an advantage,” she quipped back. For a moment, the three Stark could almost feel like it was one of their family dinners; the kind Ned and Catelyn would make jokes at, and where Bran and Arya would pretend to duel with their knives. But as much as any of them wished they could have one of those again, Sansa was usually the realist. She dabbed her lips clean with the cloth, and lowered her eyes to her lap, trying to hide the sadness in them. “So… do you know what will happen after the child is born?” She flicked her gaze up to Gendry. “Regarding the succession?” She sat up straighter and placed her hands on the table. “You have thought about that, right?”

Jon put his hands up a bit, already knowing the storm that could brew. “Maybe we should stay out of it, Sansa. They probably want to discuss it on their own.” His voice was level and calming. He was good at mediating, which make him excellent as Master of Laws.

Gendry sighed uncomfortably. “Well, we only found out last night. It hadn’t crossed my mind.” He suddenly took Arya’s hand in his, under the table, squeezing it. He told himself he was doing it to comfort her, but it was definitely more for his own sake. “I think we wanted to wait until we could discuss it with the small council.”

Arya scrunched her forehead. “We should keep the election method. Changing so quickly would be unfair to other houses, unfair to others who could rule better.” She pulled her hand from his. “We can’t betray their trust.” She speared a piece of pigeon with her fork and ate it swiftly. Even at dinner, she followed Syrio’s lessons.

Hurt crossed Gendry’s eyes. He and Arya had their disagreements at times, but somehow this felt different. More raw. “Well, I think it’s worth discussing with the small council before we make any final decisions.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled at his sibling-in-laws, hoping it would ease the tension.

The queen rolled her eyes at her husband. Without another word, Arya slid back from the table and headed for her chambers.

Sansa huffed. She felt guilty for even bringing it up, and more so that it had upset her sister. “I should go check on her.” She got up from her chair and rounded to Gendry’s side of the table, giving him a pitiful look. “You, of all people, know she doesn’t take kindly to being told what to do.” She kissed her brothers cheek and briskly followed after Arya.

Jon pressed his lips into a thin line and shrugged. “She’s right. And you know it,” he grumbled, sipping his wine. “Just apologize and talk about it together, alone. She’s more likely to listen to you, then.” He patted his shoulder, hoping it was at least somewhat comforting.

The king let his head fall into his hands, releasing a frustrated moan as he did so. He knew his queen make a point, and he couldn’t argue that keeping the election system was better than bloodline succession. But something in the back of Gendry’s mind - or maybe in the back of his heart - didn’t want to give up the chance the child would have at ruling. He looked in the direction Arya had left. Quickly, he called in the squires and maids, thanked Jon for joining them, and excused himself to bed. Thinking on it, running to the royal chambers was the fastest he’d ever moved. He stood at his own bedroom door in no time, opening it as quietly as he could. He saw that his wife was already in her sleeping gown, all candles snuffed, and asleep.

He changed into a long, torn up tunic and slid under the blanket next to her. His chest felt tight, and as he looked down at her sleeping face, he remembered exactly why he asked her to marry him in the first place. He leaned down and kissed her temple. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, so quietly, he wasn’t sure she would be able to hear him, even with his lips grazing her ear. He settled into the downy and closed his eyes. As he felt himself drifting off, a small pair of lips pressed themselves onto his cheek.

~~feedback is always appreciated~~

tag list is open!: @miladyaryastark @aryaenastark @jessforthethrone @gendryswhore @bonesgadh @its-shaula-wii @sammysgirl1997 @javiscera @cuteshunnybunny @danillion-procrastinates @anotherwaywarddreamer @blackbird337 @givemesususshi @silvulen @withahintofpestoaioli @flagitiume @aylienator

[dweemeister]

Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster (1964, Japan)

Godzilla’s introduction in 1954 enthralled and horrified Japanese moviegoers. That classic kaiju film, so filled with action and fantastical interest, introduced the Japanese to a monster also bearing the burdens of being a victim to something possible only in the nuclear age. Godzilla’s body is filled with keloid scars, meant to evoke the images of those who survived (if only for a time) the atomic blasts at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Created in humanity’s pursuit of a civilization-destroying weapon, Godzilla is often interpreted as nature seeking payback against humanity. Despite Godzilla’s seeming desire for natural vengeance, Japanese audiences could empathize with Godzilla, recognizing the allegory that they had been living since 1945.

In the first four films in the Godzilla franchise and the Shôwa era of Godzilla (named after the concurrent Japanese Imperial era of Hirohito’s reign), Godzilla is an antagonist – wreaking havoc upon humanity, even when fighting other kaiju foes such as Anguirus (1955′s Godzilla Raids Again), King Kong (1962′s King Kong vs. Godzilla), and Mothra (1964′s Mothra vs. Godzilla). For Ishirô Honda’s Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster, Godzilla begins a rehabilitation of his image that will take three subsequent films to complete. When faced with an extraterrestrial threat to the planet, Godzilla will set aside his affray with Rodan (after both are persuaded by Mothra) to defeat King Ghidorah – who makes his cinematic debut with this film.

Princess Selina Salno (Akiko Wakabayashi) of Selgina is en route for an official visit to Japan in the midst of a winter heatwave. Just as her plane is destroyed by an assassin’s bomb, an enormous meteor impacts into the Japanese countryside near Kurobe Dam in Toyama Prefecture – considering that this same dam was destroyed by Mothra in 1961′s Mothra, all credit to the construction workers for their work in fixing the dam that quickly. Soon after, Princess Selina announces herself in the middle of a Tokyo crowd, news of her death greatly exaggerated. Claiming to be from Venus, she warns the public that Rodan – presumed dead at the end of his film debut in 1956 – will rise from Mt. Aso and that Godzilla, who has just battled Mothra in the previous movie, will destroy a ship. Away from the ears of the public, the gaze of assassins, and known only by bodyguard Detective Shindo (Yosuke Natsuki) and psychiatrist Dr. Tsukamoto (Takashi Shimura in his final Godzilla film appearance), she reveals a third prophecy. The final prophecy is prefaced by the fact that Selina’s Venusian civilization was destroyed by a three-headed dragon named King Ghidorah. She prophesies that he will attempt to destroy the Earth. Ghidorah, hailing from beyond our solar system, is the creature that emerges from the impacted meteor.

The evolving Godzilla franchise from Toho Company would soon face budget constraints and the artistic decision to make Toho’s most prized kaiju more family-friendly. Japan’s demographics in the late 1950s and early ‘60s skewed far younger than today – a time where the nation is now shrinking because of its rapidly aging population and low fertility rates. These considerations impact Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster narratively and aesthetically. Beginning with this film, Godzilla’s rampaging presence is a side effect to his ultimate defense of Japan, not an attempt to annihilate the Japanese. Nuclear allegories though mentionable to children, are likely to be beyond a child’s appreciation (in the neutral sense of the term). Thus, discussions of Godzilla’s origins and the morality of conflict against kaiju all but disappear in Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster. 

In earlier Godzilla films, the combat between monsters or between Godzilla and the Japanese Self-Defense Forces (JSDF; which does not bother getting in the way of Godzilla, Rodan, Mothra, and Ghidorah in this monstrous rumble) was portrayed as a battle between or against a titan. One can feel the weight of these enormous, lumbering (“lumbering” does not usually apply to flying beings, so Mothra should be excluded) kaiju trudging against the urban battlefields scorched by electric and nuclear fire. With Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster, Honda and kaiju actors Haruo Nakajima (Godzilla), Masanori Shinohara (Rodan), and Shoichi Hirose (King Ghidorah) approach violence as if it was professional wrestling – not the Greco-Roman or freestyle wrestling associated with the Olympics. There is even a ludicrous moment where Godzilla and Rodan are batting an enormous boulder between each other with the former’s fists and tail and the latter’s wings. All that is missing in this scene are a net and a chair umpire announcing the score. A new Godzilla suit was commissioned for this film, giving Nakajima the ability to more fully personalize his character through gestures and an off-camera technician to control the direction of Godzilla’s eyes in the sockets.

These results are jarring, contributing to the perceptions of the franchise’s campiness in later Shôwa era-Godzilla films. In the West until only recently, these Godzilla films were only available in dubbed versions – readers who are anime fans know how poor some of those English dubs of Japanese media can be. These films, at least in North America, were also extensively re-edited to emphasize the increasingly cartoonish battles between and against the kaiju. With thanks to Janus Films and the Criterion Collection, the original, unedited, subtitled versions of Shôwa era-Toho Company kaiju films are easily accessible for the first time. This review is based on the original unedited and subtitled version of Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster. Beware the dubbed version of this film, which runs eighty minutes (as opposed to the original’s ninety-two minutes). But even with the restoration of all of the scenes with those supposedly boring grown-ups talking about tiresome things, the tonal dissonance between the human- and kaiju-centric scenes combined with the combat choreography is bewildering.

Debuting in Japan as San daikaijû: Chikyû saidai no kessen (translated literally as: “Three giant monsters: Earth’s greatest battle”), this is a film underselling – at least, in its title – the genius of the antagonist. Special effects wizard Eiji Tsuburaya (a co-creator of Godzilla) visualizes a serpentine dragon with, you guessed it, three heads. But to complicate things, Ghidorah also has two tails and wings – seven appendages in total. To keep all seven in motion as Ghidorah flies across screen, Honda and Tsuburaya utilized several wires (somehow, almost none of them are ever on-screen) and a handful of puppeteers to keep Ghidorah in realistic animation, even when he – screeching at Godzilla and Rodan – has his feet planted on the ground. Unlike Haruo Nakajima as Godzilla and Masanori Shinohara as Rodan, Shoichi Hirose cannot use his arms as Ghidorah. So where his fellow kaiju actor counterparts could keep their balance by maneuvering their arms, Hirose is left with no option other than to position his feet correctly and hope for the best. Future iterations of Ghidorah would look even more impressive than this first attempt. With this striking introduction into the Godzilla series (with a lower-string-heavy motif by longtime Godzilla composer Akira Ifukube... starting at 0:49 in the provided link), Ghidorah’s emergence begins the greatest rivalry in kaiju cinema.

Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster, for unknown reasons, was never released theatrically in many European countries. That makes it, outside of Japan and North America, one of the lesser-known films in the Toho Studios’ kaiju canon. The film is also, in addition to Mothra vs. Godzilla, the inauguration of – dare we say it – one of the earliest cinematic universes (and certainly one of the most sprawling). How the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) is acclaimed for being so narratively innovative escapes me, especially given the financial and logistical realities of studio filmmaking in 1950s/1960s Japan and the 2010s in the United States. Even when fighting against the ill-informed wishes of producers and executives, the directorial vision is almost always apparent in these Godzilla films, including Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster. The same cannot be written for numerous other cinematic universes and their respective films.

In the halls of Toho throughout the 1960s and into the ‘70s, one of Godzilla’s creators was becoming unsettled by the requests of the company’s executives. As the director who brought Godzilla to being, Ishirô Honda insisted that Godzilla be seen as a figure warning against the folly of nuclear war. The increasing demands to make Godzilla a character engage in human-like behaviors and have identifiable human emotions fit perfectly with what some social critics saw as the infantilization of Japanese audiences because of the arrival of popular Japanese television. Honda – who essentially created the kaiju film, the monster film, and the disaster film – is an underappreciated figure in cinema whose legacy is undergoing a rapid reevaluation because of the fact that the Shôwa era kaiju films (in their original unedited and subtitled forms) are being made widely available outside Japan for the first time.

Nevertheless, after Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster, the pendulum would swing exactly the way Honda never wanted to witness. Honda would not live to see it, but I think he would have appreciated the fact that the pendulum has swung back.

My rating: 6.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.

[friendshipcampaign]

Session Recap 3/10/19: Gearing Up

Erwyn struggled in the grip of the living beard, trying to wriggle free. He promised that once he was certain his friends were safe he would come back to listen to the man’s stories. His captor, however, just told him he was very rude. He remained restrained, unable to break out by himself.

Ditto and Voski returned to the glade with the portal where Tiktik was waiting for them. Berylbimbedon informed the pair that Erwyn had gone over to the other side. Voski tried asking her for more information, but she remained recalcitrant to reveal anything important about the test. Ditto concernedly tugged on Voski’s sleeve and said they should probably hurry, considering the state Erwyn had been in when they’d last seen him -- as well as his tendency to get hurt even when he was doing better.

The pair stepped through the portal to the other side and were greeted by the pigeon. Voski asked them if they’d seen Erwyn and, on hearing that they had, if they had anything else to share. All the pigeon revealed was the direction Erwyn had gone off in, through the fields towards the town, and the two women hurried off to try to find him. Once they arrived in the circle of buildings, Voski tried casting Locate Object on Erwyn’s cloak pin and got a ping from inside the largest building, in which they could faintly hear some kind of struggle going on. They investigated the outside of it at first, wondering if Erwyn would really have gone inside alone, but on failing to find him, they opened up the door themselves.

Erwyn, by that point, had managed to get a hand on his sword, and was trying to pull it -- and his arm -- out of the restraining beard. Annoyed by the intrusion, the small gnome-like man informed Voski and Ditto that they weren’t being any more polite than their friend, prompting Ditto to introduce herself with her full Gnomish name. He returned the gesture, saying his name was Jerry Snitch Snatch Scrumdiddly Whiskers Gramps Growlfoot Tall-Tale Tallyho Bumbleberry Honeypot Nutty Newburrow Brick-A-Brack Glimmet Stompy Sweetooth Hairyboy Bugbelly Fleabane Layabout Chompers Wailaway Hearthhoard Dingle Dan Grizzlegump.

Voski introduced herself as Helen. 

She tried to smooth over the situation to see if the man would be appeased if they sat and listened to his stories for a while, and asked how long he thought would be polite. He replied, “Three days,” and she suggested that to start, he could try releasing Erwyn and see where that got him.

Voski told Jerry that she would stay and listen to his stories while Ditto and Erwyn went and dealt with the trial on this half of the simulation. He offered her some tea before setting Erwyn down in a chair and spinning him out dramatically, then pulling it up for her to sit. Erwyn immediately started babbling apologies, explaining he’d been worried about the others and going to find the other key was all he could think to do, but neither Voski nor Ditto were particularly accusatory about it.

“The others are fine; you did the right thing getting a head start here,” Voski said. Erwyn seemed a little bewildered at the response to him having gotten himself in a situation he needed to be rescued from.

Jerry gave Ditto and the now-free Erwyn a vase of flowers, eating a nasturtium from it before handing it over, and said it would help them with the next puzzle. It had five different kinds of flowers in it: buttercups, violets, daisies, bluebells, and some other, uneaten nasturtiums. The pair were ushered out the door so Jerry could tell his stories to Voski. Outside, they took stock of their surroundings -- five smaller buildings in a circle around Jerry’s home, each with a window box containing one of the kinds of flowers in the vase.

Ditto mentioned to Erwyn that she’d been noting sort of a Grizzlegump theme, which confused him, and she tried to explain the concept of the nonsense monster to him.

“Do elves not have Grizzlegumps?” she asked.

“We… we have rabbits,” he said, and explained that as a kid, he used to go pet the ones that other people in the community he’d grown up in had kept for their fur. 

Ditto seemed interested in this, and added that she’d like to hear more when they didn’t have such pressing matters.

They approached the first building and went to knock on a door, but the knocker suddenly animated into a gnomish face, which asked the pair a riddle: “What has an eye, but does not see?”

“A needle?” Erwyn asked, and the door swung open.

Ditto announced that they were going to poke around as they entered, in case anyone was home. As they started to explore the interior, she spotted a sewing basket, from which she triumphantly plucked the needle, along with an in-progress embroidery pattern.

At the next building, with the violets in its window box, the knocker also animated to ask a different riddle: “Why is leather armor the best for sneaking?”

“I… I mean, it makes less sound?” Erwyn said.

“Because you can hide! It’s made of hide!” Ditto excitedly shouted.

The two stepped inside the next open door and spotted a faded mannequin, which looked as if there were usually something resting on it. Ditto peered around in the darker corners of the room and was able to spot a set of animated leather armor “hiding” from the two of them up on the ceiling. She flew up to it and reassured it that it had been very good at hiding, but asked if it would come with the two of them. The armor obliged.

The knocker on the door of the houses with the daisies asked the two: “What does a cleric of Urdlen call his mace?”

Erwyn asked Ditto about Urdlen, who was one of the gnome deities. She explained he was a giant mole who couldn’t see, didn’t eat his vegetables, and had once maybe tried to eat the sun, but she wasn’t sure. This puzzle took them a little longer and they had to throw out a few ideas, but eventually, Erwyn groaned a little and said “It’s not mole-y, is it?”

“Their mole-y symbol? Their mole-y weapon?” Ditto asked, far more amused.

Again, the door opened for them and revealed another cottage with fairly eclectic decor. Ditto and Erwyn had to poke around through a number of odds and ends, but eventually they found a mace whose top appeared to be made out of many animated mole heads, which twisted and mewled as Ditto cast Mage Hand to retrieve it without touching it herself (as both she and Erwyn were deeply perturbed by it).

At the house with the bluebells, the knocker asked, “What has a face and hands, but is headless and armless?”

“A clock?” Ditto and Erwyn said simultaneously. Ditto flew up to Erwyn’s height and slapped him excitedly on the shoulder, startling him a little.

Inside, they found a clock with somewhat creepily realistic hands. Both agreed it was still less creepy than the mole mace.

As they approached the door to the final house, the knocker asked them, “What’s brown and sticky?”

“A stick!” Ditto shouted immediately. She turned to Erwyn as the knocker kept laughing and said, “I heard that one before.”

“Where?” Erwyn asked incredulously.

Inside the house was, of course, a stick.

Having collected all the items from the houses, the pair contemplated what they should do next. As they walked, however, there was a strange shimmer, and they realized they had walked through an illusion in the middle of the neighborhood disguising a wild, gigantic contraption with gears of wood and recycled belts and things that passed through each other in impossible ways. Erwyn expressed incredulity that they’d missed it before, and when Ditto said illusions could be hard to spot, he quietly admitted that he’d been training to be an illusion specialist when he was in school.

There were five platforms, labeled with a series of sequential numbers. Erwyn suggested placing the objects on the platforms in the order that they’d found them. When they did so there was a whirring of gears, and a spring-loaded arm pressed a bellows that made a raspberry noise at them.

Ditto looked at the vase that Erwyn was still carrying and realized there were two buttercups, three violets, five daisies, one bluebell, and four nasturtiums. When she pointed this out, they moved them to the corresponding platforms based on the numbers of flowers. This time, the whirring and chugging went on for longer. A chicken manifested and wandered off at one point, and finally another platform lowered down, with a plaque on it that read:

“So the buzz is, you want the next key. What a sting your departure will be. Now don’t break out in hives, Bumble back to your lives The plane starts, and this ends, with a ____”

Ditto and Erwyn agreed with each other they should head towards the bee hives nearby. As they went, Ditto sent a Message to Voski asking how things were going. There was no response. As they tried approaching the hives, Erwyn accidentally stumbled and upset some of the bees within. Anxiously, he cast Speak With Animals to try to smooth things over. The bees asked why they should trust him, and he Druidcrafted a flower in his hands to offer it to them. They were quickly placated. 

Though they examined the hives, Ditto and Erwyn were unable to find anything else on their own, so Erwyn used the cantrip to give the bees another flower and asked them if they knew where people found the key, usually. They told him that the keeper of the key was the machine, and he asked if the bees would come over to it with him and Ditto. They were happy to oblige, as he kept Druidcrafting them flowers. With the bees present, the machine took a few minutes to winch up a box that, when opened, had the portal key inside, with a symbol on it that Erwyn was able to identify as that of Mechanus. When he explained it to Ditto, she mentioned that she’d caught a glimpse of it back in Soreth in the microportals that had been forming in the well.

Ditto Messaged Voski to let her know they’d found the key. Voski replied asking if the next one was the Hells, and was reassured that it was not. Inside the house, Helen then tried to explain to Jerry that she had to take her leave as the others were in a hurry, but told him she would put in a word with the Gatekeepers about the fact that no one ever talked to him. When she asked if there was anything he’d like to have sent his way, he told her he’d like some books. She assured him she already had some exciting ideas about an exchange program between some of the test ground employees, and took a scone for the road.

Once Voski had joined Erwyn and Ditto by the machine, the latter Sent a message to Amaranth to let her know that they’d found the other key. Amaranth started to climb up towards the place where they’d spotted the key, and Kriv, still singing, tried to follow, but had less luck. He waved carefully at the Grizzlegump, which just waved back at him. 

Ditto had told Amaranth to reply only when she was ready so that they could coordinate, but the rogue responded right away -- quickly enough that it was easy to catch the discrepancy -- so Ditto Sent another message for the same purpose. By that time Kriv had been more successful in joining Amaranth, and a countdown was established. As the party members touched the keys, both sides caught a glimpse of each other -- and then all came together on the surface of what appeared to be a giant, flat gear, interlocking with another perpendicular one that seemed to stretch up to another platform. They had reached the simulation of Mechanus.

Ditto tried flying up to the next gear and felt gravity shift as she reached the threshold. Landing on the “vertical” gear, she was able to walk back in the direction of the others. Kriv tried putting one hand and foot on it while keeping his other limbs on the original gear, and was struck with a very disorienting sensation. He released the first gear and “landed” on the other one safely. As Erwyn tried to question the safety of this method, Amaranth made a running leap onto the other gear, trying to ruffle his hair as she passed him after landing -- but missing, due to being a little too high up. 

Amaranth spied a strange, starfish-like creature on the gear above them, as well as a grid of squares. As she went to investigate, Erwyn closed his eyes and rolled into a ball to hit the gear, making a clumsy but still safe landing. Voski, too, made the running jump, meaning everyone had made it to the second gear. Ditto then flew to the third and Kriv cast Bless on Erwyn, Amaranth, and Voski before attempting the climb over to the next gear and just barely making it.

Noting that Amaranth was still looking drunk and Erwyn’s fear of heights seemed to be kicking in, Voski slapped hands on both their shoulders.

“It’s just leaping into nothingness on a giant clockwork plane simulation,” she said to inspire them. “It’s fine. It’s fine. Incidentally, would anyone like a scone? Don’t get crumbs anywhere, I’m sure they hate that here.”

Amaranth made the jump fine, but Erwyn staggered at the edge. His foot slipped, and he pinwheeled and fell backwards. Kriv, who was jogging along the side of the gear, shouted encouragement. Shaken, Erwyn told Voski he would try again and went for it a second time, which allowed him to get over the edge. Voski followed, tucking her cloak up round her shoulders before she leapt. She mixed her feet up for a moment, but shifted her weight and instead rolled onto the next gear with a decorative flourish. 

With everyone over the side, the group addressed the creature Amaranth had spotted earlier, which turned out to be a pentadrone. It explained that their next task was to cross from one corner of the grid in front of them (A1) to the corner diagonally across from it (H8). It said that there would be rules and warnings and obstacles on the way, but gave little detail. Cautiously, Erwyn stepped forward onto the first square. The floor of it went translucent and revealed a modron, which intoned simply, “One.” When Erwyn and the rest of the group stepped forward another space, the floor revealed a duodrone, which instead said, “Two.”

The party asked if the numbers were revealing the proximity and number of hazards, and the pentradrone observing them confirmed this was the case. Cautiously, they kept progressing around the grid, trying to logic out where the potential “obstacles” might be. When Erwyn stepped onto square C2, however, the floor gave way and he fell in. The top closed over him, and when Kriv tried hitting it to free him as Erwyn cried out in fear, the ceiling lowered above him. It was decided that trying to get him out might not be the safest idea. The pentadrone said they would have to wait until the end to retrieve him.

Continuing their progress cautiously, the party made it all the way to E3, at which point Ditto had an idea. She asked if summoning Tiktik would be allowed, and the pentadrone said yes, but that her familiar could not lead. She summoned the cat anyway, who was a little worried upon seeing the group that Erwyn had died again until Ditto explained the situation. 

The group kept moving until they hit D6, when the floor gave way again and this time Kriv, who had been leading, fell through as well. At the same time, the ceiling on Erwyn’s lowered again, this time to almost just above his head, causing him to cry out, scared, once more to the rest of the group. 

The ladies of the group continued to creep across the board carefully, thinking through the information they kept receiving from the modrons below. Eventually, they made it to the final square, H8, where the suddenly transparent floor revealed a modron, who said, “One,” before offering up the portal key. The ceilings over the boys released and stairs appeared in their respective cubes to let them return to the surface level. After they’d made their way over to the others, Erwyn, who was still wringing his hands a little, ears twitching, confirmed that the symbol on this key was the one that represented the Nine Hells. On learning this, Ditto dismissed Tiktik, whom she assured that she’d be fine.

[corvid-knight]

Impulsive Actions

Dirk has fries. Seagulls like fries. Dirk has no sense of restraint and utilizes the fact that seagulls like fries to fill a train car with seagulls.

This gets him punched.

By a cute guy.

(based on this!)

(Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911627) 

Your name is Dirk Strider, and today seems to be the day of impulsive actions. To be fair, that describes every day when you get less than two or three hours of sleep in a night, but today is exceptionally full of shit you think of doing and then just do.

It's also full of seagulls, but that's probably because you're standing here waiting for the train and trying to eat about ten bucks worth of fries. The paper sack in your hands was completely full when you walked out of the restaurant; the poor girl at the counter had to ask you if you really wanted to fill the whole fucking bag.

You really did.

However, you do regret it now, because even with the fact that you didn't have enough sense to eat breakfast before leaving the apartment, there's no way you can finish all of these. At least the seagulls profit from your stupidity; you've got a goddamn flock gathered around your feet, flapping up to snag each potato stick you toss before it hits the cement. They're smart birds, too. Some of the bolder ones are already trying to dive down and steal the whole fucking bag.

You admire that kind of hubris. You're roughly twenty times as large as a single seagull, and yet you're willing to bet that there's not a bird here who, if given the power of human speech, wouldn't scream come at me bro and immediately attack you. All for some fries.

They do really like fries.

A seagull proves that point by snatching the next fry out of your hand before you can throw it. Damn, they're so bold. If they were human you'd find that hot.

...you really need to take a nap, since you're searching for dateworthy characteristics in birds. Maybe when you get home you'll just pass out on the couch for a couple hours.

Ten. Ten sounds like a good number.

Here's the train, too. And what do you know, it pulls up just perfectly, actually stopping so the door's aligned with you as it slides open. You take three steps toward said door, hesitate as the flock of seagulls moves with you, and then freeze in place as the worst (best?) impulsive thought you've ever had in your life hits you. It's horrible. It's wonderful.

You mentally debate it for a good minute, long enough for everyone else who's waiting to board. When you make your decision—which was really made the moment the thought occurred to you; when you're this looped for lack of sleep you tend to go with your first impulse—the doors are beeping a warning that they're about to shut.

Which is fine.

You've never been good at normal sports. Running yes, you're fast even if you look gawky and awkward as hell, anything involving climbing up shit yes, but baseball? Football? Oh hell no. You can't function on a team all that well and you can't handle a ball gracefully to save your life, both of which mean you didn't have much practice with fastballs and curveballs and whatever the fuck else kind of ways of throwing something there are.

The action of pulling back and chucking the half-full bag of fries into the train feelsboth graceful and powerful, though. It basically explodes on impact with the window on the other side; fries fly everywhere.

And the seagulls see that.

In the five seconds it takes the doors to slide all the way shut, the whole fucking flock manages to dive into the car. The birds are shrieking, people are shrieking, and you're pretty sure that the next stop isn't for six and a half minutes.

"Holy fuck," you breathe.

There's a McDonald's across the street.

You should be able to get another order of fries before the next train comes.

Your name is John Egbert and you're going to kill that blond fucker. You just spent what seemed like a really long time in a train car filled with panicked passengers and birds.

Not that you have anything against birds. They're a thing that exists; people feed them bread and whatever. This asshole was feeding them french fries. You know this because he threw the whole fucking bag of them into the train car, and half of them went straight into your bag.

You had to pick up a goddamn seagull and bodily remove it from your shopping bag. That's not normal.

On another note, seagulls are friendly. You never realized that. They like to sit on people.

As a result of you being one of the few people who didn't panic every time a seagull landed on you, you have a large stain on the shoulder of your shirt. It's wet and disgusting, and you're going to make the douchebag who caused all this buy you a new shirt.

Right after you kill him.

Realistically, the guy probably isn't going tothe same place. You do realize that, you realized that maybe two minutes after you got on the bus to go back to kick his ass. So really, this is nothing but an opportunity for you to calm down a little and have ten people stare curiously at you.

God, you probably look like a crazy person.

Oh well.

Amazingly, the guy's still standing almost where you left him, with another thing of fries. It's a more normal amount this time, though, with only a couple left in it; he's tossing them to the fifteen or so gulls circling him, completely oblivious to you as you come up behind him.

"Hey! Jackass!" He turns around when you yell, though, a bewildered expression crossing his face right before you punch him.

You've never punched anyone before. You didn't expect it to hurt quite that much. You yelp and shake your hand, and he staggers backward, trips over either a seagull or his own feet, and just completely wipes out. Doesn't even try to catch himself.

His head hits the pavement with a thump that makes you wince.

"Oh, fuck," you mutter. He's not moving; you may have just killed a guy.

Time to panic.

You're Dirk Strider, and your head hurts. Like, headaches aren't new, but this is pretty obviously the result of blunt force. Since the last thing you remember is a fist coming at your face, that's not all that surprising.

Someone's trying to talk to you; you decide that you should probably open your eyes and listen. Not in that order.

"Please please please don't be dead, shit, I wasn't serious when I said I was going to kill you, holy shit, I mean the whole thing with the stupid birds on the train was dumb but it's not like I seriously meant to—"

Okay, this guy is making absolutely zero sense. You open your eyes, blinking a couple times to see if you're going to have trouble focusing or anything. The only problem you're having with your sight is that it's brighter than is comfortable, since you're lying on your back staring up at the sky without your shades, that's not surprising.

Damn, you hope your shades aren't broken. That'd suck.

Your view of the sky is interrupted by the guy who's leaning over you. You're fairly sure he's also the guy who hit you, but you can overlook that for the moment. You've never seen anyone look quite that anxious before.

Or quite that cute.

"Damn, I want to buy you dinner," you hear yourself say. He just blinks in confusion, grabbing at your shoulder to steady you as you sit up. "Shit, be careful—you hit your head really hard, I didn't mean to—"

"Calm down." Things aren't spinning, which is a good sign. "You slugged me?"

"Um. Yeah, but—fuck." He hesitantly lets go of you, sitting back on his heels. "I had an excuse."

"Oh. Do I know you?" You definitely don't know him. There's no way you could forget somebody this attractive.

"No." He huffs and crosses his arms, then uncrosses them to grab your shades from where they'd fallen, holding them out to you. "I just had to deal with your 'friends.'"

"My what?" Ouch. The shades put pressure on the rising bruise where he punched you, and you decide to just hook them onto your shirt.

"The seagulls?" He rolls his eyes, then frowns in concern again instead of the annoyance he's been showing. "Wait, you didn't forget that, did you? From the whole head injury thing?"

"Nah, just didn't get what you were talking about is all." Head injury. You reach up to check the back of your head, and find a painful bump but no blood. "Uh...sorry, I guess?"

"You guess." That earns you a raised eyebrow, as he nods at the container of fries you dropped when he punched you out. "...were you about to do it again?"

Shaking your head also hurts.

The cute guy who punched you is grinning. "You totally were."

"Well, I'm not going to now."

"The gulls ate all the fries that were left, so you really can't." An even brighter, more wicked smile. "Not right now, anyway. If you do it again, you should just walk in after the birds and ride along. It was pretty fucking awesome, if you can get past the bird shit."

"Oh." You didn't even think of that. And he does have a stain on his shirt, now that you look. "Uh...sorry."

Another shrug. "I mean, I gave you a concussion, so I think we're even. Speaking of which, do you need to, like, go to the hospital or something?"

"I don't have a concussion."

"You should still get it checked out."

Today is the day of impulsive actions, and what you say next is no exception. "I'll make you a bet."

"What?" Pure confusion on his part. You just hope he doesn't laugh in your face or punch you again when you offer your terms.

"Come with me to get my head checked out. If I don't have a concussion, you let me take you on a date sometime."

He just stares at you for a second, then nods slowly. "Okay, I feel like that's mewinning, not you. What if you do have a concussion?"

You didn't think of an answer for that possibility. "You punch me again?"

"How about, no." He gets to his feet and offers you a hand up. "I'll choose the forfeit if I win. Deal?"

"Deal."

You're John Egbert, and you just spent an hour with a guy named Dirk Strider.

He has a mild concussion, because of you. However, that means you just won a bet. Your chosen prize is his phone number and a date next weekend.

And a new shirt. You're kind of planning to eventually steal one of his.

You think you got a pretty good deal here.