#urgh c-moon get AWAY

[porunareff]

Artwork by chief animation director of ep 34 of Stone Ocean, GrandGuerrilla

[princessmisery666]

Just A Kiss - Part 3 Under The Radar Mini Series

Summary: A kiss always means something, especially with an ex.

Warnings: potential spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick - I’ve used some lines from the movie, language, angst, fluff, cheesy innuendos, Hangman is a cocky son of a bitch with a soft side, Rooster is kind of an ass, the beach scene. 

W/C: 5.6k (it was supposed to be a drabble!)

Rating: M (mature)

Characters: Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Lieutenant Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Captain Phil “Maverick” Mitchell, fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity), Mentioned/Small Parts: Hondo, Admiral Simpson, Penny Benjamin. 

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader, past Hangman x Fem!Reader

Bingo: @anyfandomfluffbingo Square Filled: “I was made for politics. I have great hair, and I love lying.”

Notes: @sfreeborn gave me the bolded prompt. 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Graphics: title card made by me, divider: @writercole / gif: @indifferentvincent

Master Lists: Under The Radar // Main

Just A Kiss

The San Diego heat is stifling, but it's nothing compared to the inferno Rooster ignites inside of you. His mustache tickles where he leaves a trail of kisses on your neck, heading south. One hand holds your hip, fingers digging in deep, his other gropes and kneads your annoyingly covered breast, and you desperately want his hands to travel south too. But pressed against a tree fifty or so feet from The Hard Deck is hardly the place for it.

The team doesn’t know that you’re together. You’d gone along with Bradley’s wishes not to let the team know because the little bubble the two of you are in is fun and exciting, except in moments like this when you really want to be alone with Rooster. Their ribbing and comments will only rain on your parade.

You growl, part frustration and part whining. “Urgh, remind me again why we’re here?” you sigh, your hands moving across his back as he continues his assault on your neck.

“We both said,” he mutters as he kisses your collarbone, “we were coming for a drink.” His teeth scrape away his kiss, and he changes direction, working his way to your mouth. “It’ll look suspicious if neither of us shows up.”

You’re already late. You told the team you were showering before meeting them. But unable to stop yourselves, you ended up fucking in the shower and again on the bed in your dorm. 

The earlier release wasn’t enough for either of you, though. He kisses your mouth softly and slowly, knowing exactly what he’s doing, how worked up you are. He’s a damn tease, and you love him all the more for it.

Sooner than necessary, he pulls back, smiling devilishly as he tries to subtly adjust himself in his pants. “It’s gonna look suspicious if you walk in there packing all that heat, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you chuckle and grope his growing erection through his jeans.

He laughs, stepping back, and your eyes fall to get a view of exactly what he’s packing. “I promise I’ll take you into town tomorrow night, just me and you, and I’ll show you all of this heat.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“You can hold anything you want, baby,” he says, spreading his arms wide as if inviting you to do just that. He waits a moment for your laughter to teeter off, and then his expression morphs to one of softness and honesty. “I’m serious. I wanna take you on a real date. Let’s meet at that Italian place you like at seven?” 

He bites his bottom lip, looking slightly worried as if you might say no. He still doesn’t quite understand you’re already a goner for him. You’d find a way to give him the moon if he asked. Still, it’s nice to keep him on his toes. 

You’ve spent too long mentally swooning at his bashful grin, so he edges closer, dipping his head to ghost his lips over yours as he talks. “We’ve got the weekend off. We can both say we’re going home, but let's check into a hotel. Forty-eight hours of uninterrupted heat,” he says, grabbing your hand and using it to cup his still hard cock. 

“Count me in,” you say before closing the small gap between your mouths.

The Hard Deck is packed to the rafters when you make your way inside ten minutes after Bradley. You’re pretty sure your fellow officers have some idea that the two of you are more than friends, but Bradley wants to keep it quiet, and you respect his wishes. He has enough to deal with having Maverick as his Captain. 

Of course, the crew is at the pool table - the competition doesn’t end just because they're on solid ground. Despite the crowded bar, Jake calls, “there she is!” and is loud enough that a few people turn to stare at you as you approach the bar. You need a drink to cool down after the hot and heavy make-out session with Bradley outside.

You feel a presence slide up next to you, warmth radiating off of it, and there’s a split second of hope that it's Rooster, using the crowded bar as an excuse to push in close to you. Until you smell that familiar sickly sweet cologne, and you know before he speaks, it’s Hangman.

“Penny, her drinks are on me,” he says when the bar owner approaches. 

Hangman may be an asshole ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, but he’s an asshole that feels guilt, and you’ll ride his guilt train as long as there are free drinks involved. He owes you for the next lifetime, anyway.

“Ooh,” Penny coos, a knowing smile highlighting her pretty features. “Is there something going on here again?” she asks, pointing between the two of you.

You scoff with a roll of your eyes, not quite offended at the inclination but close enough. “God no, I dodged that missile.” 

“Please,” Jake tuts, the Prince Charming smile in full effect. “You know you miss me.”

“Like a hole in the head,” you grimace, taking your bottle of beer from Penny and leaving him to pay. 

--------

As the team makes a slow retreat from The Hard Deck back to base, you fall behind, leaving twenty or so feet between you and the main group. Hoping Bradley will take the hint and fall in step beside you. You want to make sure you’re still meeting at dawn.

There’s an unused storage container on base, it’s out of view of the main areas, and you’re pretty sure none of your colleagues are aware of it, so you and Rooster have taken to meeting there just before dawn. You can’t wake up next to him, but it’s the closest thing, starting the day in his arms.

You catch the corner of his eye as he’s talking to Bob and Phoenix, and his mouth curls at the corner slightly, but before he can give the pair an excuse to fall back, you see Jake stop in his tracks, obviously waiting for you to catch up. You sigh but know you have no choice but to stay the course and walk beside him.

“You alright back here?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh with a lie, “new shoes, think they’re giving me a blister.” 

Before you know what’s happening, Jake has scooped you up bridal style, and you yelp in surprise, making the group turn to look at what all the fuss is about.

“Put me down,” you demand, but Jake just laughs and adjusts your position to better carry you.

A few of the guys laugh and continue on, but Bradley stares for perhaps a millisecond too long, and then Phoenix is ushering him away with a roll of her eyes and her hand around his bicep.

You squirm, trying to get Hangman to put you down, but he doesn’t take the hint. “Quit moving. I’m saving your feet,” he says.

“Seriously, Seresin put me down.” Your tone is stern and demanding as you wriggle as much as possible, and he reluctantly sets you back on your feet. “What the hell is going on with you lately? The free drinks, letting me win at pool earlier, now trying to be my knight in shining armor and carrying me. I get that you feel guilty, but what gives, dude?” 

“I do feel guilty.” Even if he hadn't said it, it's written all over his face. You feel bad for being so vexed, but he’s spent most of the night monopolizing the space beside you, not leaving any room for Bradley or anyone else for that matter, and it's beginning to bug you. He laughs, almost uncomfortably, “but you make that all sound like it's a bad thing.” His head drops to stare at his feet as he starts to walk again. 

“It’s not,” you say, falling in line beside him. “I appreciate the drinks and entertainment of watching you lose,” you smile, and his beams back at you as bright as the sun. You slowly walk in silence for a few steps, and you watch Rooster and Fanboy shoving at each other, trying to gain the upper hand to get the other in a headlock. 

“They shipped you off so fast after the incident I never got a chance to say thank you for taking the fall for me,” Jake says sheepishly. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.” 

You know that gratitude doesn’t come easy for Hangman, and he doesn’t like owing people favors. You lying for him means he will owe you for a very long time. Not to mention, the lie told means you're grounded for a year and tasked with being Maverick’s personal assistant instead of training alongside your fellow aviators.  

“You’re welcome.” 

“Why did you?” he asks, “we didn’t exactly end things on the nicest of terms.”

That's an understatement. Your relationship, if it could ever have been classified as that, ended with you breaking Hangman’s nose.  

“That’s code for you were an asshole.” you laugh.

He was an asshole, but it was your fault that you’d expected more when you started your arrangement with him back at the academy. You both needed a release from the stress and intensity of training. He certainly wasn’t an asshole in the privacy of his bedroom. He was, surprisingly, a generous lover. But knowing that he had a girlfriend the whole time makes you see that’s all it had ever been, sex. At least that's what you tell yourself. The nights you fell asleep together, you’d always woke up alone or had left before he woke up. 

Granted, you never talked about what it would be between you, but it didn’t stop the hurt you felt when he very publicly screwed you over. 

He grabs your wrist, forcing you to stop and face him. “I’m serious, Y/N. You didn’t owe me anything, and you didn’t have to tell them it was you that screwed the mission up when it was on me. I mean, I was an asshole to you too.” He smirks, and you remember that being part of how you fell into bed with him back at the academy. His charm and Hollywood looks only added to the attraction. “But that makes me wonder even more why you did it?”

You explain, “you were on strike number two. You’d be out on your ass right now if I hadn’t.”

“And why do you care if I get fired or not?” 

You sigh, he’s probably fishing for compliments, but you give in anyway. “Because you’re one of the best at what we do. The US Navy needs you.”

“That’s it?” he asks and seems almost hopeful there's more to it. 

Your brow creases with confusion, “What else would it…”

Before you can finish the question, his lips are pressed to yours. The shock makes you stumble back a half-step, but Jake wraps an arm around your waist to steady you, and the other cups your face to draw you to him.

It’s maybe a second before your brain subdues the shock enough for you to react, and you push him off just as you hear Coyote yell, ��yeah, get your girl, Jake!” 

Jake stumbles back, this time under the force of your shove, and he looks completely perplexed by your reaction.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you ask, wiping your mouth.

“What?” he asks with just as much confusion. “I thought you wanted to start where we left off!” 

“What would have ever given you that idea?!”

“You’ve been flirting with me all night! You took the fall when I fucked up. Why else would you do that besides you wanting to be with me?” he details with a cocky smirk that you just want to slap off his face.

“Flirting? When did I flirt with you? I’ve been trying to get away from you all night! And I already explained why I took the fall!” You are almost shouting at him now, causing a scene, but you don’t care.

“Oh, come on, baby,” he coos, stepping towards you again, “you know you can’t resist this.”

“I’m seeing someone,” you explain, shooting a glance toward the group who are all staring at the altercation, except Bradley, who’s marching off at speed toward base. Fuck! You turn your anger back to Hangman. “Even if I weren’t, we’re never going back there.”

To his credit, he looks genuinely sorry. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, now you do.” You turn and stomp off after Bradley, hoping to catch him before he disappears into his dorm. You hear a door slam before you get there, deciding to try and talk to him anyway.

“Rooster?” you quietly call as you knock on his door. “Please, Bradley, we need to talk.”

His silence speaks volumes, and when you hear voices closing in, you hurry to your room, softly shutting the door before you sink to the ground behind it, tears falling from your eyes.

You feel like a complete fool. Bradley didn’t meet you at the container and ignored every call and text. He’d avoided being alone with you during the training exercises. Yet you still went to the Italian place at seven. After an hour and a half of waiting and further radio silence, you gave up. The cab drops you off at The Hard Deck, and you spy his Bronco in the parking lot. You debate waiting by his truck to confront him, but then you hear the tinkling of the piano inside, and you know he won’t be leaving anytime soon.

As you expected, when you enter, Rooster is at the piano, Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy circle behind him, and the whole bar joins in to sing Great Balls of Fire. He doesn’t play the piano or sing without having a couple of drinks in him, so he’s been here a while. A clear indication he had no intention of ever meeting you. You thought, well hoped, he’d have met you to at the very least talk. But it seems he prefers to ignore you.

The song is finished, and the jukebox is back on by the time you manage to get served at the crowded bar. When you approach the group, now all back at the pool table, you feel each of the guys’ eyes on you, taking a moment to admire the sundress, heavier make-up, and styled hair. You receive nods of approval, a few wolf whistles, and proclamations of how hot you are in one form or another. But the only one you care about is Rooster. His eyes drag the length of your body twice before his gaze fixes on yours and lingers. You think you see a hint of regret, but before you’ve had enough time to study it, Jake speaks up. 

“Damn, you look good. A date?” he asks. 

“I thought I was supposed to have one,” you shrug, sighing as you get your emotions in check. “I guess I was wrong.”

Bradley shies from your disappointed look and smiles toward Bob. “Rack ‘em up, Bob.”

“Well, whoever he is, he’s a fool for missing out on all this,” Jake says, motioning up and down your body. 

“Damn, Hangman, that might be the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say to, well, anyone.” Rooster comments. “You two must really be in love.”

Jake replies with something just as juvenile, but you're already making your way out the back of the bar to pay attention to it. Perhaps it's too late, but now you realize it was a mistake coming here.

The sun is dipping below the horizon at what looks like the edge of the earth, the waves are calm, and a few people are sitting in the sand, but they are far enough away you can only hear a hearty laugh every now and then. You don’t bother sitting down, not intending to stay longer than it takes you to finish your drink.

You take a long pull on the brown bottle, and then Bradley steps into your peripheral vision. The tide draws an inch closer before either of you speaks. 

“You look beautiful,” Bradley says. It’s nice of him to say it, but it would have been better had he said it over dinner. 

“That means much less than you think it does,” you mutter.

He doesn’t respond. Probably best; it will only end in an argument. He turns to leave, and that’s your limit.

“So you aren’t even going to ask about the kiss?” you call after him, spinning to face him.

“It looked pretty obvious to me,” he shrugs.

“It was just a kiss. it didn’t mean anything.”

He scoffs, “A kiss always means something, especially with an ex.”

“He’s not an ex. Not in the sense you’re implying. You know exactly what it was. You were there when it ended.”

“He fucked up a mission, almost got you killed, you found he had a girlfriend the whole time ‘you weren’t in a relationship’,” he says with full-on air quotes, “and you still lied for him. A lie that got you suspended from the air for a year and assigned to be Maverick’s personal assistant. Seems like you wanna restart that arrangement to me, and clearly, Hangman thinks so too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have kissed you.” 

“I stopped the kiss, and I pushed him away.” 

“You kissed him back.” 

“No, I didn’t. I froze with shock.” 

“We’re fighter pilots, Y/N. We don’t freeze, we react, and you reacted!”

“I WAS NOT EXPECTING TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH THAT!” you yell. “It’s not like on a mission where I have to make a split-second decision to save a life.” You both stare at one another, chests rising and falling rapidly for a long, tense moment. It’s clear Bradley’s not going to say anymore; he breaks eye contact to watch the dwindling sun over the ocean. You don’t want him to walk away, so you continue. “Look, me and Hangman were never any more than a fling, not like us. We’re more than that.”

Silence. He doesn’t even look at you again. 

“Well, at least for me, it is, or was?” you say quietly. He whips his head to look at you, but his expression gives nothing away. “Was I wrong again? Fucking Navy Pilots,” you scoff, “your heads are so far up in the clouds you can’t see a good thing on the ground. Are you going to say anything? Deny it? Confess your love? Anything?” 

Rooster stays silent, looking out over the ocean, his jaw ticking as your eyes fill with tears when you hear the door of the bar open.

“Hey, guys!”

You both turn to see Fanboy at the backdoor of the bar, and he waves you both over, “we’re heading out.” 

Bradley is the first to walk off, and you sigh before following. 

You walk across the hanger to the designated teaching area. Everyone is there, chatting amongst themselves. They’re expecting Maverick, so a few turn in your direction, but when they see it's you, they turn back to their conversations. Then when you step up to the podium, the room falls silent, and everyone focuses their attention on you. 

“There’ll be no flying today,” you announce, following Maverick’s orders. You wait for the grumbles of ascent and mumbled questions to quiet again before you continue. “You need to change into some beach attire and meet Maverick on the beach at the back of The Hard Deck.”

“The beach?” Hangman asks.

“She didn’t stutter,” Rooster pipes up, throwing Hangman a dirty look.

“You’ve got thirty minutes.” 

That spurs the group into action, although you can tell they all want to ask more questions. They begin heading out, but you call Rooster, “Lieutenant Bradshaw, can I talk to you for a second?” 

He turns to face you, and loud enough that the group almost out of the door can still hear him, he asks, “Is it something else from Maverick?”

Your heart drops to your feet. Why is he being like this? You shake your head slowly and swallow the rush of emotion that wants to distort your vision. “No, it’s not a request from the Captain.”

He nods once, lips pressed in a straight line, before turning on his heels and walking away. He breezes past Hangman, closer than necessary, close enough that if Jake hadn’t stepped back, Rooster would have bumped his shoulder.

Your head drops to your chest, unable to watch as Bradley disappears. It takes a minute to control your emotions enough to continue, and when you raise your head, Jake is watching you. His usual smooth expression is creased with what looks like concern. 

“Bradshaw?” he asks with an incredulous smile.

“Don’t!” you warn, and Jake’s arms immediately go up in surrender. You start following the others out, and Jake matches your pace to walk with you. You shake your head. “Please, Seresin, I don’t want to hear whatever immature scathing remark you want to make.”

“I’m just curious to know what happened?”

You sigh, completely done with this whole conversation, but you know he won’t let it go. “I’m paying the consequences of your actions once again.”

“I never meant to cause you any trouble.”

“Yet you always seem to.”

“Y/N, honestly, if I’d have known you were seeing Rooster, I wouldn’t have.”

It’s not insincere, but it’s Jake. He perhaps wouldn’t have kissed you had he known you were seeing Bradley, but he certainly would have made snide remarks to make it clear he’d had you first. You glance sideways at him, and his expression shows genuine remorse. “You should really go into politics; I almost believe you.”

“I was made for politics,” he says, pushing his shoulders back and walking a little taller. “I have great hair, and I love lying.”

“And there it is.” You turn and stride away, your shoulders square and your jaw tense, trying to hold the tears back from falling. It won’t do any good to let them see you cry, not now.

-----------

You’re not involved in the football game. You sit on a bench and catch up on some paperwork, glancing over when they get overly excited or celebrate a score. You're glad for the invitation; it's a sight to behold. It started as a show of testosterone until Phoenix showed them all how it was done. But still, the boys make it a gun show at every available opportunity, sweat-soaked, tight, chiseled muscles glistening in the sun, and they take turns to run into the water to wash off the sand or cool down before resuming play.

Bradley catches your eye more than once, he doesn’t immediately look away, which is promising, but the undistinguishable expression makes anxiety fizz in your gut. You all had a weekend off, the weekend you were promised forty-eight uninterrupted hours of Bradley. But you didn't hear a peep from him, though you refrained from contacting him too.

Maverick makes his way over to you and sits on the opposite side of the table, “you sure you don’t want to get involved?” he asks, motioning toward the game. 

“I’m sure, sir,” you chuckle at Fanboy and Payback doing a victory dance, and then your attention diverts to Rooster and Phoenix, who are a little too handsy for the dog fight football game they’re supposed to be playing. You look away, back down at your paperwork before you can screw this up any further. 

You feel Maverick’s eyes on you, but you don’t look up. “Is that a thing?” he asks, “Rooster and Phoenix?”

You shoot a glance over again to see them coming out of an embrace, both smiling widely. It could be a friendly, teammate celebratory hug, that's all it probably is, but Maverick’s question and your jealousy are enough to make your jaw tick. 

You clear your throat and go back to writing the not-so-interesting report. “I don’t know, sir, it could be.” 

“So you and Bradshaw aren’t a thing anymore?”

You raise your eyes to Maverick so quickly you make yourself a little dizzy. You can feel the guilt on your face, so there’s no point in denying it. Relationships between similar ranking officers are allowed, so you haven’t broken any rules. The shock is born of the fact he knows in the first place. 

“Honestly,” you sigh and give a small unsure smile. “I don’t know.”

“You’re good together,” Maverick says, “at least that's what your squadron Captain reports.” He smiles at your confusion, giving a small chuckle before continuing, “both of your monthly assessments, your Captain mentioned the relationship in a few of them. Mostly the ones since you were assigned to me, they report after spending his downtime with you, Bradley’s more focused and happy.”

“Maybe that was true, but now I’m not sure.” You avoid eye contact, hanging your head to hide the emotions dancing across your face, the regret, the bitterness, the ever-present ache of rejection.

You’re spared further questioning when Admiral Simpson’s shadow blocks the sun, and he stands with his hands on hips staring at your colleagues playing football. “What is this?” he asks Maverick. 

“Football, sir.”

“They just had two days off, and now they’re playing games on the beach?” the admiral questions harshly, not for the first time seemingly regretting the decision to put Maverick in charge of the squadron. 

“You asked me to build a team, sir,” Maverick counters, “there’s your team.”

The admiral stands and watches for a moment, and when Hangman’s team scores, he asks, “who’s winning?” 

“I think they stopped keeping score a while ago, sir,” you explain just as Hondo catches the ball and everyone chases him before taking him down. 

Bradley and Phoenix are the first two on their feet, once again, her arms are around his neck, and he wraps one of his own around her waist. You swallow the lump building in your chest and look down at the report again, not missing the concerned look that Maverick has on his face as he watches you.

The jealousy is rolling through you in waves while you watch Rooster and Phoenix flirt. They lean into one another, hands always touching the other in some way, lingering looks, eye contact that makes it abundantly clear they wish they were alone. You know Bradley is flirting; you’d been on the receiving end once upon a time. But now it seems that fairy tale is ancient history. Phoenix reciprocates. They’ve always been close. While you were in Hangman’s bed, Rooster and Phoenix were becoming friends, and now it appears to be flourishing into something more. 

You want to get drunk. Blackout, forget your own name, drunk. But you can’t. Being hungover and partly responsible for eighty million dollars worth of government property is not a good idea, and you’re already suffering the consequences of bad decisions. 

It’s easier to remove yourself from the situation, so you finish your drink and make sure Penny knows your drinks are on Hangman’s tab. She smiles knowingly and gives you a wink before watching you leave. 

Jake’s been chatting to a redheaded woman by the main door for most of the night, and he catches your arm as you pass by. “You okay?” he asks, but he’s looking over the top of your head. You know he’s looking at the cause of your early departure. 

“Yeah,” you smile through the lie, thankful for the acknowledgment. Your night had been kind of lonely with just Penny to keep you company. “I put my drinks on your tab.” 

“Good,” he says and leans down to place a kiss on your cheek. Without even looking over at Bradley, you know from the sly smirk Jake throws in his direction that he saw it. This isn’t what you want, an immature back and forth, making the other jealous. You want to talk it out but know this isn’t the place, so you leave with a heavy sigh.

Halfway back to base, you hear hurried footsteps behind you. You turn and see Rooster jogging in your direction, his hair bouncing in an annoyingly cute way.

“I don’t want to fight,” you state as he gets closer, your shoulders deflating as you let down your armor.

“I’m not here to fight,” he says, “didn’t want you walking back on your own.”

“I’m a big girl Bradshaw. I can take care of myself.” 

He ignores your snark and asks, “it’s early; where’re you going?” 

“To bed.” You don’t have it in you to fight, but your mouth has other ideas. “Didn’t feel much like watching you with your hands full at the bar.”

“Full hands, roaming lips,” he shrugs, and the anger flashes behind his eyes, “same thing.” 

“Is that what this is about? You’re jealous that Jake had me first? That he kissed me in front of you? Believe me, if I could go back and undo Jake and me, I would.”

 “I don’t believe that, and I’m not sure you do either.”

“You think I want him back?”

“Something like that doesn’t die so easily,” he says quietly, “I was there, remember?”

“Yeah, you were there for the messy end too. You think I want that again?” Frustratingly, all he does is shrug. The hurt tightens your chest, and your mouth runs away with itself. “Although it was easier to be with Jake, at least I wasn’t some dirty little secret.”

“Don’t!” Rooster warns, pointing a finger at you. “You know why I wanted to keep us quiet. This mission is hard enough working under Maverick without Hangman giving me shit about you.”

You roll your eyes, “since when can’t you take Hangman’s shit?”

“Y’know he has some interesting stories about you, which he likes to share regularly and in picture-perfect detail.”

“And you believe him? Are you fucking kidding me? You’re going to do that? Bring up stories that Hangman told you? The man lies through his teeth all the time!”

“Well, what else am I supposed to think? It’s not like you talk about him.”

“Cause he’s not worth talking about.” 

“Bullshit!” he yells, face turning red, and you hate that it's come to this. “I was there at the messy end, remember,” he quotes, “I was the shoulder you cried on for weeks. I was the one who had to talk you out of setting your career back with a sabbatical.”

“Why bring all this up now, Bradley? It never seemed to bother you so much before. Why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?”

“I can't do this. Not with you. Not against him. I'm not going to sit here and wonder if it’s mutual every time he's near you.”

The ocean lulls the tension in a silent moment that stretches.

Rooster sighs regretfully. “Tell me, look me in the eye and tell me it's not. Tell me I’m not competing with him up there and down here. Just don't lie to me!”

“I’ve never lied to you,” you say, slightly hurt at the implication. 

“So don’t start now. I can see myself falling for you. I see it, us, together, happy, I can picture it.” He pauses as if living the moment in his mind, yet his tone promises that there's a huge but coming. “But I can't put myself through the what-ifs and the questions of what happens if I leave and he's still here? Or you get stationed together. I can't go out there thinking he's making a play for you and that you'd let him.”

“So you’re saying you don’t trust me?”

“I’m saying I don’t know. And I’m keeping too many secrets. It’s screwing with my head.”

“For the record, Maverick and everyone else who matters know about us. They figured it out on their own. And, while we’re on the subject, so did Jake.”

You can see the internal turmoil as it crawls across his face, part confusion perhaps as to how they figured it out, a slight accusatory frown as if he thinks you spilled the beans to everyone.

He settles on anger, shaking his head. “So Jake knew, and he still kissed you?” he asks, disbelief making him chew the inside of his cheek. “Why am I not surprised? Knowing about us probably made him want to do it more. A challenge to see if he could get you to cheat.” 

He spins on his heels heading back toward the bar, but you run to block his path, palm flat on his chest to stop him. “Don’t be an idiot. Punching Jake won’t do you any favors, and in his defense, he didn't know until after he kissed me.”

“There you go again, defending him.”

You roll your eyes, taking a step to the side, effectively unblocking his path. “So go ahead, punch him, or whatever it is that you want to do. But that doesn’t change the fact that you still haven’t said it.” 

“Said what?”

“If it's over, just say it's over. Don’t leave me in limbo. That’s not fair.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just clenches his jaw and turns his back to you, hands on his hips. 

“For the record, I fell for you harder than I ever did with Hangman. You had every part of me, still have most of it despite your best efforts,” you say, choking back the tears that threaten to spill. “But if you won’t do it, I will. I’m not going to sit here and convince you that I would never do anything to hurt you. I can’t make you trust me and certainly can’t make you love me. So I’m done trying.”

Part 4 - Got Your Six

---

Look a handy reblog button. ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

[dream-meister-translations]

MAIN STORY : CHAPTER 2 PART 15

━

Kai led us all to a dilapidated research facility on the outskirts of the pavilion.

KAI : It was over here, there was some black miasma rising-- There!!

EMMA : What is that…?

GUI : It's Sion's little hideaway. He never lets us get this close either…

GUI : Ugh… I have a really bad feeling about this… I've never actually wanted to be wrong before~…!

NAVI : I'm sorry, but we need to leave.

HIMMEL : Indeed… They're here…

EMMA : …Huh!?

EST : Sion…!?

SION : Ahahahahahaha!!!

SION : Wow… I can have all the power in the world!

KAI : Sion!! What the fuck are you doing!?

SION : Huh!? No, don't come any closer…!

EST : Watch out!!

EST : Sion… This magic… What have you done?

KAI : Sensei, what the hell is this!? I don't care how strong he is, Sion shouldn't have this kind of power!

GUI : Sion and his magic are both… Pitch Black…!

EST : …….

JOE : Heh, ahahahahaha!! Chaos only repeats itself… Now it's time for round two, Moon Wanderers!

CROW : You guys again!?

GRANDFLAIR : You planted the Black Fairy in Sion just like you did to me!

EMMA : This can't be happening!

NANASHI : Wrong!

NANASHI : He volunteered…

KAI : Is that so…?

NANASHI : Sion wanted the power to make all his dreams come true.

NANASHI : But… Too bad! I'm afraid Mateo was too much for a runaway like him to handle.

KAI : You!

SION / MATEO : Uuuuu… Wwaaaaa!!!

EMMA : We need to purify Sion, asap!

CROW : You don't have to tell me twice!

We nodded to each other, preparing for the fight to come when…

NOAH : Crow, move!!

CROW : …Wha!?

Out of nowhere a blast of energy flew past Crow, way too close for comfort. Turning toward the attack, we saw…

EMMA : NAVI!?

NAVI : Fu… Fufu…

EVAN : Humans…

HIMMEL : ……..

NAVI : Ugh… Urgh…

EMMA : Navi! It's gonna be okay…

CROW : Wait, Emma! There's-- ...Something's wrong...

He was right… Navi and others… The black miasma was rising from their bodies, too, just like Sion…

They materialized, gasping for breath… Their eyes filled with black light as they turned to face us.

NANASHI : Ooh~, I see Mateo's influence is far more powerful than I thought.

EMMA : This miasma again!

NANASHI : Mateo's getting really excited. How unexpected… Hm~Hm~.

SION / MATEO : Uuuuuuuuuuuu……. Wwwaaaaaaaaa!!

SION / MATEO : They're gonna regret looking down on me!

SION / MATEO : I'll make them pay for laughing at me and my family!!

CROW : Emma, get away from Navi!

EMMA : I'm still here…

HIMMEL : Heheh…

EMMA : Himmel?

HIMMEL : How stupid… Humanity... What fragile creatures...

HIMMEL : You dream of great things, only to be consumed by despair.

EVAN : You act all righteous, but all you do is betray those you love…

NAVI : People… So selfish and useless… I hate them all!

EMMA : Please… Everyone… Calm down!

GRANDFLAIR : Emma, get back!!

NAVI : Ahahaha!

CROW : Watch out!

EMMA : …Hn!!

EVAN : Raa!!

NOAH : Korokuro!

KOROKURO : Kuuu!!!

EVAN : …Hm!?

CROW : They're going after Emma…

GRANDFLAIR : They're resisting the purification!?

EMMA : Navi, Evan, Himmel!!

NAVI / EVAN / HIMMEL : ……

EMMA : (…I can't reach them…)

Their eyes are filled with an even greater hatred than when we'd first met…

EMMA : (Will we really never be able to understand each other… No matter what I say…?)

CROW : Hey, Emma, do you remember what we were talking about earlier?

EMMA : C-Crow…?

CROW : We've said all there is to say. The only thing left to do now…

CROW : Is talk with our fists!

EMMA : Huh!?

ITSUKI : …Wait, fists talk?

NOAH : Not the time, Itsuki!

GRANDFLAIR : Hm. A primitive approach, but that's just like us…

CROW : Okay, then I'm gonna hit 'em as hard as I can!

CROW : Y'know he'd always say, "People aren't that bad."

EMMA : Don't you think this is a little extreme?

CROW : Sometimes fighting is quicker than arguing with each other, y'know? That's the Eden approach!

EMMA : …Yeah, okay, I get it… We gotta blow off steam, right?

EMMA : I know it's crazy, but… I sense something real in their rage and hatred.

EMMA : I want to hear them. And respond in kind.

CROW : Heh. Then it's a good thing I'm here. Evan. Navi. Himmel. Come at me!

CROW : That way if one of us gets hurt, we're both to blame!!

[soysaurus]

i’ve wanted to make a dabihawks fic rec list of my faves for a while now, so here they are (below the cut)!

when you’re flying high (take my heart along) — eliestarr

T, 10.4k, complete, jet mechanic!Touya and fighter pilot!Keigo WW2 au

this is just a super sweet fic and it has a happy ending!! (yes, even with seeing the happy ending tag i was still so fucking scared and screaming in their dms—it was not fun. i was actually terrified, but this fic is so so fluffy and sweet and, yo, i was actually crying ngl)

Matchbox (Strike Gently and Away from Body) — SkarySkylar

M, 15k, complete, college au where Hawks summons demon!Dabi

honestly, so fucking funny. this author has great taste; it’s definitely reread-able and i just love it. the friendships included are such a treat, too!

Like real people do — Starlightbright

T, 15k, ongoing, youtube au

god, this fic is just so so cute. ALL the fluff!! i’m just a sucker for youtube aus tbh, and this person writes them so well.

Seven for a Secret (Nine for a Kiss) — Kendrick_Harlow

T, 35.7k, complete, quirkswap au

KH may just be a god ngl

Second Lap Around The Block — teaandtumblr

T, 19.6k, complete, de-aged!Dabi au

it would have been illegal for me not to include this fic tbh... it’s so perfect

He’s A Married Man — CelestialCata

T, 0.8k, complete, Hawks visits Dabi in Tartarus

so fucking good, but i cried; this is your warning. i might just be a really soft gay tho... sigh, dabihawks is my undoing ;;w;;

Unexpected, Unmasked. — nickyfics

G, 3.9k, complete, masquerade au

fuck, dabi is such a smooth fucking asshole. also just the aesthetic of this fic. the a e s t h e t i c. smh, i’m still drooling over it.

heart a canopy of shame — wellthengetouttathesoupaisle

T, 5.6k, complete, soukoko (from bsd) au

no kidding, this fic actually OWNS my entire heart. i love bsd. i love dabihawks. [insert incoherent gay screaming]

Love Letters to My Landlord — pandorasv13

T, 26.8k, complete, Keigo is sent away to relax and Dabi is his landlord au

URGH THIS FIC IS SO GOOD. the pining? immaculate. i cannot stress enough how fucking good this fic is aaaa i wanna reread it. seriously, if you haven’t read it yet go!! [shoos you away lovingly] gooooo!!!!

Equivalent Exchange — inexchangeforyoursoul

T, 57.3k, ongoing (but very soon to finishing), canon divergence wingless!Keigo au

i’ve had the wonderful pleasure of beta-ing the recent chapters of this fic and i love it with my entire soul. sigh, i’m still here crying. of joy!! ksdfbdskfbskhf this is a happy fic. i’m just...a really, really weak person [laughs in casually dying]

not the only one (with music in your ears) — bittermoons

T, 24.9k, complete, mute choreographer!Dabi and burned-out pop star!Hawks au

this is honestly just the softest shit, folks. like, yo. it’s just really fucking good. moons is an excellent writer and the queen of fluff.... until she started turning into a bit of an angst hooligan... @bittermoonswrites​ yes, this is a public callout (jk ily) BUT this is a very, very good fic and aaaaaaaaa

space between us — vitane

T, 55.3k, complete, getting back together college au

oh, what a surprise. another fic that owns my entire fucking heart and soul. hnnng this fic hurts but in the best way... the pining ;;w;; i am a sucker

this....has gotten very long lmao so i’m going to stop now!! ty to all the fic writers and content creators for this ship <33 you are all feeding me very well, and i’m loving every moment of it. i may make a part two to this because there are a lot of fics that definitely should be in this list... sooo maybe look out for that? cya, folks [wave]

[chiaki-translation]

New Year! Red and White Kakushigei Tournament! Event Translation Ch5-8

Urgh, I wanted to do this earlier, but I had to go for a medical checkup earlier this week and the people there messed up my queue number. I ended up waiting the whole day just for them to say they only open half day...

But whatever, I’m back, the next few chapters are here, enjoy~ The rest should be up in a few days too, I hope that I can clear this event before Christmas~

New Year! Kakushigei Tournament Ch1-4 / / Ch5-8 / / Ch9-Epilogue

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber’s Entertainment

Juza:

The snow bunny is done.

Priest:

Ah, thank you so much.

Yup, they’re not that consistent…

Well, that doesn’t really matter, this is good.

Banri:

Anyway, why the snow bunny.

Priest:

There’s a legend for it.

Hisoka:

Legend?

Priest:

Once upon a time, snow fell on a certain village, to pray for good weather, the villagers made a statue of a bunny made of snow. But the snow statue is fragile, and the villagers accidentally broke it one day.

Following that, heavy snow fell, the villagers have to suffer through the extreme weather.

It is said that in the end, the villagers danced endlessly to wish for the heavy snow to stop… It’s that kind of legend.

Azuma:

Hmm…

Chikage:

A legend from the past huh.

Priest:

The dance that everyone will be performing this time is also a tradition of the past… Please do your best to show its value.

Tsuzuru:

Ugh… What pressure.

Tenma:

Hmm. I’m going to do them perfectly, the performance and the dance too.

<Shifts to Stage>

Priest:

Be graceful with your fingertips, feel the flow! 1,2,3…!

You over there, I told you to look more courteous right!

Juza:

Yes…!

Hisoka:

The spartan style doesn’t change…

Priest:

Express your prayer! The hand should be like this!

Move forward over here and turn around. Match the time with the movement properly!

Tenma:

Alright, understood.

Azuma:

Like this.

Banri:

Should be like this, let me try it one more time.

Priest:

Hmm… Most of you are experienced from the moon-viewing party…

Those who participated for the first time, you’re also doing quite well.

I don’t see much hardship here, that’s too bad.

Tsuzuru:

Why would you want us to be full of hardship in the first place…

<Shifts to Shrine>

Chikage:

Good work for the practice.

Azuma:

That was quite tiring.

Banri:

Well, we ended up practicing for quite long.

Kid A:

There!

Kid B:

Woah! I won’t let you get away!

Take this!

Kid C:

Hahaha!

Tenma:

A snowball fight huh…

Juza:

They’re so energetic.

Kid A:

Over here-!

Kid B:

Wait wait!

Kid C:

Take that!

Children:

Ah!!

Kid A:

The snow bunny-!

Kid B:

They’re broken…

Kid:

What should we do…

Banri:

Ah… Those are the one we made, don’t mind it.

Kid C:

We’re sorry…

Tsuzuru:

Everyone properly apologized. It’s alright.

It’s getting dark soon though, everyone should make your way back soon.

Children:

Yes.

Tenma:

…

Hisoka:

Tenma, what happened.

Tenma:

Nothing, I just remember about the legend that the priest told us earlier.

Juza:

Ah… The one about the heavy snow.

Banri:

It’s just a legend isn’t it, it will be fine if we just remake it.

Chikage:

That’s exactly the flag.

Juza:

… I’m hungry.

Tenma:

Right.

Azuma:

Since we’re already outside, why don’t we go get dinner together to celebrate the kick-off of this dance team.

Banri:

Oh, nice idea.

Azuma:

Fufu, it’s fine to do this kind of thing once in a while right.

<End of Chapter 5>

Chikage:

Then, where should we eat?

Tsuzuru:

The practice was tough, I’m pretty hungry.

Juza:

How about Chinese food.

Banri:

Nah, sushi is better isn’t it.

Juza:

Huh?

Banri:

You want to fight?

Tsuzuru:

No, don’t start fighting here!

Azuma:

If it’s sushi, I know a good place near here.

Tenma:

Azuma-san’s recommendation huh.

Juza:

Sounds like an expensive one…

Azuma:

It’s alright, I won’t let you guys spend on it.

Right, Chikage.

Chikage:

… Well, I guess so.

Hisoka:

… Thank you.

Chikage:

What are you saying.

You’re also a working adult, don’t be spoiled.

Hisoka:

… Stingy.

Azuma:

Juza’s fine with it right?

There are delicious Japanese sweets there too.

Juza:

… Yeah.

<Shifts to Sushi Restaurant>

Banri:

Oh, it feels like a great place.

Tsuzuru:

It looks more luxurious than I thought…

I wonder how much it will cost.

Azuma:

Alright then, what should we eat.

Banri:

Speaking of which, we haven’t called about dinner today.

Tenma:

Then, I’ll go ahead and LIME Director.

Oh, a reply.

She said that she wants us to go shopping on the way back.

Juza:

Shopping for?

Tenma:

It seems to be the tools for the cleaning day. I got the list.

Banri:

Ah, it’s going to be that time of the year huh.

Tsuzuru:

Will the storage room finally be cleaned…

Chikage:

After the cleaning day, shrine event, and the new year party, everyone will be going home for the holiday right.

Azuma:

You’re right.

Banri:

Speaking of which, how does the dorm feel like on New Year’s Eve?

Hisoka:

… It’s peaceful.

Azuma:

We watched the new year show, arranged the new year soba made by Omi and eat together.

Tenma:

There were times when we got too excited watching the variety show and it ended up becoming a no-laugh competition.

Banri:

Hmm…

Juza:

I see.

Chikage:

It’s unusual for you to want to listen to such story, Banri.

Banri:

Nah, actually, I’m not going home this year.

Tsuzuru:

Eh, is it that you can’t go home?

Banri:

My family suddenly told me that they are going on a trip to Hawaii.

I refused to go because I have practice for my university’s performance right after new year.

I go home every year during new year, I just never thought that I won’t go home this year.

Azuma:

I see… I guess it’s unavoidable if you already have plan beforehand…

Hisoka:

… Are you sure you’re alright with it?

Banri:

Well, once in a while I can celebrate new year in the dorm too right.

Chikage:

…

<End of Chapter 6>

Priest:

…Hmm, it’s good.

Everyone, you did well enduring the rigorous practice.

The dance came out perfect too.

Banri:

Alright.

Juza:

Thank you.

Chikage:

Thanks to you, Mr Priest.

Priest:

What’s left is the weather of the event day, but I’m quite worried.

Tsuzuru:

During this time, the snow has accumulated slowly.

Banri:

Well, it will work out somehow.

Azuma:

When we’re back in the dorm, let’s make some teru-teru bouzu.

Tsuzuru:

You’re right.

Hisoka:

Yeah.

<Short Time Skip>

Tenma:

Good work for practice today.

Hisoka:

Good work.

Azuma:

Eh? Where’s Chikage?

Juza:

I thought he was here earlier…

Azuma:

It’s Chikage, maybe he has something urgent.

Tsuzuru:

What should we do, should we go back first then?

Banri:

I’m going to look around for a bit. You guys can go back first.

Tenma:

Understood.

<Shifts to Shrine>

Banri:

This shrine is quite big…

Chikage:

…

Banri:

Oh, found you.

So you were here.

Chikage:

Ah, Banri.

I was asked by Misumi to take pictures of Mr rabbit so I came here, but…

Banri:

… Eh, it’s empty.

Chikage:

It seems like he ran away.

Banri:

… Seriously.

Chikage:

Well, we’re talking about that rabbit, I think he’ll be back before anyone realized.

But Misumi asked me to take some pictures, I can’t just leave him alone too, so I’m going to look for him now.

Banri:

Then, I’ll tag along with you.

Chikage:

Thank you, that will help.

<Shifts to Forest>

Banri:

… Can we even find him in this kind of place?

Chikage:

We searched for that run-away rabbit in this forest before.

I thought he would generally go to the same place—

!

Banri:

Woah, it’s pretty quick on its feet.

Chikage:

Right.

Banri:

I’m going to catch him.

Then, I’m going from this way.

Chikage:

Yeah, I’ll leave it to you. I’m going to the other side.

Banri:

It’s that bush huh…

Chikage:

Banri is over there.

That means, from here…

Banri:

Oh, it’s a signal from Chikage-san.

I see, understood.

Turn around, and come here…

Rabbit:

…!

Banri:

Alright!

Caught it.

Chikage:

We managed to capture it nicely.

Banri:

It’s just like the usual interaction for an ‘escape game’ isn’t it.

Chikage:

You’re right.

Ah, what a good timing, let’s take a picture of Banri holding the rabbit.

Banri:

Huh? Well, it’s not that I mind…

Chikage:

I’m sure Misumi will be happy too.

<End of Chapter 7>

Banri:

The rabbit has been returned to the shrine safely, mission complete.

Chikage:

Returning him is one thing, but if he keeps running away even the shrine will be fed up with it.

Banri:

But, for Misumi’s sake aside, it was honestly surprising for Chikage-san who is not good with animal to go that far.

Chikage:

… That rabbit was separated from his siblings suddenly and it seems that he’s still looking for them to this day.

The priest knew about the situation and he said that he would cooperate and search for his siblings too, but it seems that he’s been too busy for it.

Banri:

Hmm… I see.

Chikage:

Because of that, I guess I feel a bit of sympathy for him.

Banri:

… Chikage-san, did something similar happen to you before.

Chikage:

About that, I’ll leave it to your imagination.

Banri too, you were talking about not going home this year…

Next year’s new year, it’s not certain that you will be able to spend it with your family like before.

Banri:

… What is it, so suddenly.

Chikage:

It’s just a possible scenario.

Of course, it can also be said for other events in general, like birthday and Christmas, but—

Here, you’re not doing anything in particular, like watching the new year show, eating new year soba.

I don’t mind spending my time like that, Japanese new year feels like a family event more than any other events,

… Well, I only know that after joining the theatre troupe, I can’t say that I’m very knowledgeable about it.

Banri:

…

Chikage:

Like that rabbit, there’s a possibility that you will get separated from your family without any warning.

That’s why, Banri too, I thought it would be better for you to at least show your face at home.

Banri:

…

Chikage:

Did I meddle a bit too much.

Banri:

Nah… It’s fine.

<Time Skip>

Juza:

It’s finally the day.

Director:

Everyone, are you ready?

Hisoka:

Yeah.

Azuma:

We were worried about the snow, but it seems that it won’t fall tonight.

Tsuzuru:

We did some promotion for the event, the number of audiences here seems to be good too.

Hisoka:

It’s pretty crowded.

Chikage:

First up will be the Kakushigei tournament right.

Tenma:

Yeah.

I’ll show you the result of my training.

Director:

Yeah! I’m looking forward to seeing the Kakushigei tournament too.

Banri:

Director-chan, I’m going to surprise you with some amazing tricks.

Of course, the winner will be the red team.

Juza:

I won’t lose to you.

The white team will win.

Banri:

Stop with the bullshit.

There’s no way I’ll lose to the likes of you.

Juza:

Huh? What was that.

Banri:

You want to go.

Tsuzuru:

Calm down, it doesn’t matter who win or lose, it’s a Kakushigei performance!

<Shifts to Stage>

Priest:

Then, please enjoy the Kakushigei performance by members of MANKAI company!

Homare’s Doll:

“La la la, a happy bunny, a refreshing harmony! Behold, let’s have our tea time!”

Hisoka:

It’s just a cheap marshmallow…

Arisu is stingy.

Homare’s Doll:

“Hmm hmm, what did you say! Such a selfish  guy!”

Children:

Amazing! The doll is talking!

Male Audience:

Ventriloquism huh!

The voice is totally different, it really sounds like he’s talking to a doll…!

Juza:

…!

Tenma:

Phew! ... There!

Female Audience A:

Cigar box! So cool…!

Female Audience B:

Damn, the boxes look like that they’re attached to each other with a magnet!

Banri:

…

Male Audience:

Is he going to pull that tablecloth?

Female Audience:

Even though there’s a glass tower on top!?

Banri:

…!

Female Audience:

Amazing!! He pulled it so beautifully!

Male Audience:

That was wonderful!

Chikage:

Take a look at this card in my hand.

The folded card is… 1,2,3!

Female Audience A:

Eh!? It turned into a fan in an instant!?

Male Audience:

What!? It was just a normal card a second ago.

Chikage:

And when you look up on this fan…

Female Audience B:

Woah! The colorful confetti pop out of nowhere…!

Children:

It’s so beautiful~! Just like real magic!

Director:

(Both teams are amazing with their Kakushigei! The audiences’ cheers are so loud too)

Citron:

Unyuyuyu…

I have no other choice!

I must go quickly!

Muku:

Eh!

Sakuya:

Citron-san, it’s not your turn yet!

<Short Time Skip>

Director:

That was fun!

I was very impressed by everyone.

Azuma:

Yeah, me too. I got completely absorbed in it.

Tsuzuru:

Everyone practiced so hard before we even realized.

Female Audience A:

Red team or white team… Both are great, I can’t choose.

Female Audience B:

I know, everyone was so interesting!

Male Audience:

Alright, I’ve decided. I’m going with this!

Children:

I’m going to choose this one!

Tenma:

Everyone’s voting now.

Azuma:

Fufu, I wonder who will win… I’m quite excited.

Director:

I’m glad that the audiences are satisfied.

Next will be the dance performance…

<Short Time Skip>

Director:

…Eh?

Hisoka:

… It’s snowing.

Juza:

The snow starts falling.

Tenma:

Actually, isn’t it getting heavier?

Banri:

If it continues, it’s going to be a heavy snow soon.

Chikage:

What a splendid flag retrieval.

Tsuzuru:

This is not the time to say such thing.

Male Audience:

The snow is getting heavier.

I guess it’s time to go home soon.

Female Audience:

I wanted to watch the dance, is it going to be cancelled?

Hisoka:

Everyone’s going home.

Juza:

If it stays this way, it’s going to be cancelled for real.

Director:

(Even though everyone practiced so hard for this, I don’t want it to be cancelled. Beside, I want to be able to meet the priest’s expectation…)

It’s a bit early, but…

Let’s start earlier so everyone can see the dance!

Azuma:

You’re right.

Chikage:

Understood.

Banri:

Alright, let’s go.

<End of Chapter 8>

Translator’s Note: About the flag that Chikage mentioned. I’m sure it’s Itaru’s influence since it refers to a flag as in an otome game flag. I don’t know how to explain it nicely, but the broken snow bunny serves as an indication that heavy snow will fall like the legend (thus the flag), and it did happen during the performance (thus the flag retrieval). Do correct me if I’m wrong though~

[lochrannn]

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Ben Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 8/9

-

They’ve planned to head out early in the morning, because they will have to drive for a couple of hours to get to the more scenic part of the coast that Diego’s never actually been to himself. So the evening before he stops by Ben’s to borrow his camera. To his annoyance Klaus is also there.

Diego loves Klaus and he’s usually glad to see him and always relieved to see him in a safe and relatively normal place. He hasn’t forgotten the years of crawling along the city’s streets in his car in the dead of night, looking for Klaus because nobody had heard from him in days, or picking him up from shady ass bars, high as a kite.

But Klaus, despite the fact that he seems a little spaced out half the time, has always had an unfailing read on him and Diego really doesn’t want to get into it with Klaus what his plans are for tomorrow and why he needs Ben’s camera. Dealing with his brother’s shenanigans at the wedding was bad enough.

“So you’re taking your fake wife on a fake honeymoon beach trip to take some romantic pictures and you have absolutely no ulterior motive, you say?” Klaus asks, sipping on a large mug filled with a very fragrant and spicy smelling tea in Ben’s living room.

Diego’s leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed defensively, while Ben is over by the dining table unpacking his camera equipment and trying to pare down the amount of stuff he’s going to send Diego out with and very pointedly trying to look like he’s not listening. “First off, Lila’s my actual wife, you were literally the witness, Klaus, and second of all, yeah, I have an ulterior motive, I want to help her convince immigration officials that we didn’t just get married so she could get a visa!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, stop deflecting!” Klaus says in that mild tone of his that always puts Diego on edge.

“Why, what other ulterior motive could I have other than scamming the government?” Diego asks in irritation and then instantly regrets opening that door for Klaus. The slow grin that spreads across his brother’s face makes Diego regret a lot of choices in his life.

“I think you’re in love with your wife, you weirdo!” Klaus says, batting his eyelashes at him and Diego tries not to react, but then thinks that may be exactly the wrong choice, so a little too late he grimaces and says, “Don’t be silly!”

“Oh please, it was written all over your face at the wedding. And so much sexual tension between the two of you, maybe you should fuck and see whether that resolves it,” Klaus offers with a shrug.

“Yeah, no… that didn’t really work…” Diego breathes out and then instantly realizes the horrible mistake he made when both his brothers almost shout, “What?!” at the same time.

“Urgh, you slept with your wife, you pervert?” Klaus squeals in delight, almost falling over on the couch laughing at his own joke.

“She wasn’t my wife then…” Diego shoots back and he just doesn’t know how this keeps happening. Why is he arguing about this with Klaus? He really, really doesn’t want to talk about it, but Klaus just always manages to push his buttons.

“Oh, intriguing! Do tell!” his brother rights himself on the couch and looks at him with big curious eyes.

“Absolutely fucking not!” Diego says grumpily and crosses his arms again, trying to physically make himself shut the fuck up.

“But then what are you even doing, Diego?” Ben pipes up from the other side of the room and that is almost worse, Diego thinks, because Ben’s going to end up making a good point, “You’re clearly in love with each other, you’re having sex, you live together, you’re married, but for some reason you say you’re not actually together?”

“We had sex once, and Lila’s not in love with me!” Diego grumbles just for the sake of disagreeing with Ben.

“But you’re in love with Lila?” Ben asks at the same time as Klaus says, “Oh please, Lila is definitely in love with you! I thought she obviously wanted to bang you, but now I know she already got there that puts all the longing looks she gave you in a completely different light!”

Diego’s not inclined to simply believe his hyperbolic brother and suddenly talking about the whole thing stings in a peculiar way, so he tries to not pout when he stabs a finger at one brother at a time and says, “I’m not talking to you two about this!” Then, directed at Ben he asks, “Are you done with the damn camera? I don’t want to be here all night, should have just gotten a disposable one at the drugstore!”

To Diego’s relief, Ben holds out a small bag and he grabs it, says his very swift goodbyes, and leaves in a hurry.

-

They leave, as planned, in the early morning and at first Lila is grumpy and Diego starts doubting himself for suggesting the trip. He’d hoped that beyond getting some nice photos, he could offer Lila a bit of a reprieve from the stress of the past weeks, but once they’ve stopped off to get some coffee and donuts, to his relief, her mood markedly improves.

It’s stupid, but after what Klaus and Ben said to him, Diego can’t help watching her intently to see whether they might actually be right. But all he achieves is to get distracted from watching the road when he keeps looking over to see Lila, feet up on the dashboard, donut in one hand and take-away coffee in the other, singing loudly and badly along to the radio.

Despite the good forecast for the weather, the sun hasn’t managed to come out through the clouds yet, but, Diego thinks maybe a little overly poetically, he’d hardly notice with the way Lila seems to brighten up the inside of the car with her huge toothy grin as she looks over at him while still chewing on her donut.

“What? D’you not like my singing?” Lila asks him with a challenging sparkle in her eyes and Diego turns back to look at the road because he’s starting to worry that he might just be openly mooning over her.

“Why wouldn’t I like your singing, seeing as you’re so good at it?” he responds sarcastically.

“Fuck off!” Lila says, laughing lightly and punching him playfully in the arm with her donut hand, transferring a little of the powdered sugar onto his shirt.

“You’re in a good mood,” Diego points out. He doesn’t mind that, of course, in fact he’s endlessly relieved, but it does come as a bit of a surprise after the last few weeks in which she seemed to be on quite the emotional rollercoaster.

“We’re going to the beach! You have to be in a good mood when you go to the beach, Diego, it’s the law!” Lila explains seriously and Diego makes the mistake of looking over at her again and his heart skips a beat at the way she’s looking at him.

Klaus’s words ring in his ear, but once more he can’t figure her out. It’s just as likely that she simply genuinely likes going to the beach and is excited about it.

When they get to the shore Diego gets so distracted by all the attractions and all the different activities they get up to that he almost starts to feel like they’re on an actual date.

They take a walk along the water, joking and chatting in a way they haven’t in weeks, Lila taking off her shoes and pulling up the skirt of her dress so she can wade in all the way to her knees. Diego’s impressed as he just puts his hand in the shallow waves once to gage the temperature and decides that he has absolutely no interest in getting any other part of his body wet.

They have about twenty pictures left on the film, so they make sure to get as many different photos as possible so they can claim their honeymoon was a couple of days long, rather than just a single day trip. They have lunch on the terrace of a small seafood restaurant and then head back to Diego’s car to change into a different set of clothes and wander along the fair on either side of the promenade.

One stall offers knife throwing for prizes and Lila gets Diego to take part. He’s surprisingly good at it and lets Lila choose a prize and instead of taking one of the huge stuffed toys she picks a cheap-looking bracelet made up of wooden beads on a string and Diego can’t help but think that it really does look pretty cute on her.

As the day turns into late afternoon he buys them ice cream to take along their walk down the pier and Diego doesn’t miss the way something flashes across Lila’s expression when he hands her her cone and then turns back to the vendor and asks for a receipt for their immigration file. He has no idea what to make of it, though.

“There’s a place near London called Brighton,” Lila begins telling him as they almost reach the end of the pier, “it has this huge, gaudy pier and when I was at school they took us there on a day trip. I really didn’t like it, but then they also took us by boat to this other pier that was derelict and damaged by storms and you couldn’t get to it without a boat anymore and I much preferred that one, even though there was nothing really there anymore, except for the ruins of a victorian building.” Lila leans over the ornate, wrought iron railing and looks out at the water. “And then, when I was in my teens there was this massive fire and a couple of friends and I we bunked off school and took a train down to Brighton to take a look. We could still see smoke coming off it even the day after and there was this sooty smell on the beach and I don’t know why but I actually teared up. And I can’t quite explain it, but it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen!”

Lila turns to look at him then, and her huge brown eyes are so full of emotion that Diego finds it hard to look at her and simultaneously can’t tear his eyes away.

Lila blinks rapidly and then turns back to look out at the sea and the slowly setting sun and says in a low voice, “Don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

On some instinct Diego pulls out the camera and takes a picture of her in profile. They’ve been purposely only taking pictures of the two of them together, on occasion asking strangers and then wrapping an arm around each other, or Lila would put her hand in the crook of his elbow, because a photo of them individually will offer nothing in the way of evidence for the visa process.

Having heard the shutter release go off, Lila looks at him again and asks, “What’d you take a picture of?”

Diego looks down at where he’s winding the little wheel to the next picture on the film with his thumb and says quietly, “One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

Lila doesn’t respond and when he does muster the nerve to raise his eyes up to meet hers, there’s suddenly a charge between them that feels like it might set the damp sea air on fire. He’s just about to say something, anything really, when a slightly nasal voice coming from somewhere off to the side chimes in with a midwestern twang, “Hey mister, would you like me to take a photo of you and the lovely missus?”

They both look around abruptly to see a small woman with a kind, round face look at them expectantly.

“Uh…” Diego begins, taking a moment to find himself back in the real world, “Yeah, thanks, that’d be nice!”

He hands the camera to the woman and she takes a few steps back to get them in frame and calls out, “Smile!” and he hears the camera click before he’s even managed to follow her instructions. He’s in the middle of wondering about just how dumb he probably looks in the photo when the woman looks over the top of the camera and asks, “One more?” to which Lila says “Yes!” with determination and then grips his shirt with both hands and Diego turns just in time for Lila to press her lips to his and that’s when all coherent thoughts get swept out of his mind like sand along a beach.

“Aw, how wonderful!” Diego hears the woman call out and only realizes that he’s closed his eyes and pulled Lila hard against himself when she puts a couple of inches between them, but doesn’t quite let go of him at the interruption, “Got the sunset in and everything! Here’s your camera.”

Diego lets go of Lila with one hand and she slides back onto her feet, a tiny selfish part of Diego’s brain notes that it almost seemed like she was a little reluctant, and he takes the offered camera.

He puts it back in the bag and then startles when Lila wraps her arms around his waist and presses her face into his chest, hugging him tightly.

A little uncertainly, Diego puts his arms around her and hugs her back, then leans his head down and whispers into her ear, “What’s that for?”

She mumbles against his chest, but he’s close enough to hear her, “Just don’t think I’ve really thanked you enough for what you’re doing for me!”

There are so many things he’d like to respond with but they all seem to either not say enough or far too much about how he feels in that moment, so instead, Diego tightens his grip on her and buries his face in her hair and just holds on until Lila starts pulling away.

-

The drive back to the city is a lot more sombre compared to the giddy energy that Lila had created in the car on their way to the beach. Diego looks over at her periodically, but for most of the time she’s just quietly staring out of the window at the scenery whizzing by in the half light of dusk. It’s a beautiful view, he can’t blame her, but he feels almost like she’s trying to avoid conversation with him. So not sure what he would even talk about, Diego leaves her to it and spends his time making up his mind that once she has her green card and is no longer reliant on their continued charade, he owes it to himself, but maybe even the two of them, to tell her how he feels.

-

There’s a definite shift in the way they live together after their beach trip. They never actually discuss it, but Diego makes an effort to not work until late in the evening, and it seems Lila hardly ever has any plans with friends at night, and so they spend the weeks leading up to their immigration interview cooking and having dinner together, often using the time to get to know each other as best they can and compare notes on all the relevant answers to the questions Rodriguez and his wife wrote down for them. Other times they’ll put on a movie and make popcorn and spend a quiet evening on the couch together.

It’s both perfect and absolute bliss and at the same time it nearly tears Diego apart. Because every time they sit together on the couch, separated only by the fucking bowl of popcorn that they both very strenuously take turns to put their hand in, he has to physically restrain himself from simply shoving the stupid bowl to the floor and launching himself at Lila.

It’s slowly driving him insane.

On the day of their interview they are both quite nervous and when the USCIS agent separates them and puts them in different offices, Diego can’t stop fidgeting even when the interviewer promptly comes back in to talk to him.

He needn’t have worried. They’d done a good job at preparing for the interview and between all of the photos and receipts (some of them legit others maybe slightly less so), there are no holes that anyone could poke in the story they’d created.

He is somewhat thrown, though, when the agent asks him whether he loves his wife, that wasn’t a question that Rodriguez had mentioned, but it strikes him that it’s the one question that he can answer most honestly, so he tells her that he loves Lila with all of his heart and at this point couldn’t imagine living without her, and the agent just makes a note on her notepad and then thanks him for his time.

He’s waiting in the foyer when Lila comes out looking a little flustered and Diego’s heart sinks in disappointment as he concludes she must not have gotten her green card.

“You ok?” he asks tentatively as she gets to him and Lila gives him a glassy eyed look and says slightly absentmindedly, “Yeah, course!”

Confused by her answer, Diego tries again and asks, “How’d it go?”

Lila seems just as confused when she answers, “Uh, yeah, fine!”

Feeling like there’s a misunderstanding somewhere in their conversation Diego asks head on, though he feels like he’s being insensitive, “So, d’you get the visa?”

“What?” Lila asks distractedly, then adds, looking more harassed than he’s ever seen her “Oh that, yeah, yeah, of course I did. Uhm, can we just go home?”

He’s absolutely thrown by that. He would have expected her to be significantly more excited, considering the amount of work she put in, but he thinks maybe it’s just the adrenaline wearing off, so he follows her wordlessly out of the building and back to the car.

When they get back to the apartment, Diego’s just in the middle of taking off his boots, when Lila twists around to look at him and then rushes out, almost as if she’s been holding the question in for hours, “Diego, are you in love with me?”

[undeadsnorlax]

Can Anybody Tell Me Why I’m Lonely Like a Satellite?

heyyy my first fic for @badthingshappenbingo​. starting things off with my favourite space boy

Ao3 link

Prompt: Loneliness

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (TV Series)

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, angsty as hell

Wordcount: 2603

A day in the life of Luther on the moon.

***

Wakey-wakey.

“Urgh…” Five more minutes…

Come on. You need to get up.

Luther groaned, rolling onto his back and squinting up at the blank metal ceiling. It took him a few more minutes to open his eyes properly, and a couple more to roll over and check the clock with another groan. 22:47.

“It’s early,” he mumbled, swinging his legs around and rubbing his face down. Well, early in his sense, at least.

Fifteen minutes won’t kill you. Means you could go to bed earlier later tonight, technically.

Luther considered this and nodded, slowly getting to his feet and walking toward the door-

Thunk!

“Every time!” he cried, rubbing his forehead. He’d learn to duck eventually.

He stretched his arms until his fingers brushed the ceiling, then placed a hand at the bottom of his back and arched it, grunting at the dull crunch his spine made.

With a few more stretches, he dragged his feet over to the counter, smiling at the small potted umbrella plant there.

“Evenin’ Ben,” he said softly, large fingers stroking the leaves before picking up the tiny watering can.

Hey Luther.

Luther let out a sigh, tapping one of the radars beeping away on the workstation below the plant.

Something wrong?

“Nah, nothing.”

He shrugged and went about doing his other ‘morning’ chores. Checking the base’s oxygen levels, collecting any trash, seeing if there was any response from home.

Nothing. Of course.

Luther dressed in his space suit, taking the bag of trash out and dumping it with the rest.

He allowed himself a moment of freedom, pure gleeful joy as he bounced light as air across the moon’s surface. He’d been up here two and a half years and this part still never got old. He was in space!

He pushed off from the ground hard, floating a foot higher before landing with a weightless thud. Grinning behind his helmet, he tilted his head to look up at the Earth in front of him.

It was awesome, thinking about how one planet could contain so many billions of people going about, living their lives.

Including four of the ones he’d grown up with. What would they be doing right now? Vanya would definitely be going to bed, and maybe Allison was doing a late night movie shoot. Klaus would probably be partying and Diego doing...whatever he did.

Luther let out a heavy sigh, his grin fading. No use in wondering like that. Just reminded him of how everything fell apart.

He was brought back into focus by his stomach rumbling. He clasped at it for a moment, staring blankly at the stars, before trudging back to base to eat.

Running low on those.

Luther narrowed his eyes as he opened a packet of soy paste, slumping down heavily on the nearest chair.

“I know,” he said quietly, squeezing every last drop into his mouth ravenously.

He also knew this would do nothing but numb his hunger for only a few hours, knew this wouldn’t have been enough food for him even before his accident. For as little as he did physically up here, his body still craved energy, and this shit just didn’t cut it.

You asked Dad for more, right?

“Every time.” Luther glared at the plant. “I’m due more soon, okay? Today or tomorrow…”

He drummed his fingers against his thigh, staring at the empty packet. Reluctantly, he went to the box and got another, pretending it was something more elaborate instead. One of Grace’s amazing dinners, a rich beef casserole in a thick red wine sauce, with potatoes and vegetables, maybe some kind of pie for dessert, with ice cream-

He groaned, swallowing the mouthful of saliva he’d formed at the mere thought.

Not helping?

“I miss real food.” He rubbed his middle, feeling at least a little more full, enough to concentrate on work.

Have you checked your bandages?

Luther licked his lips, before shaking his head, looking away like a naughty schoolboy getting a scolding.

Do that. Please? It’s been a few days.

“Okay, okay.”

He went to the cramped bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror first. He looked rough.

Dismissing that observation, he slowly zipped down his top, careful to not get it stuck on his body hair.

How’s it look?

“Better. Honest.”

The bandage itself, on his right side just above the ribs, looked a little grubby, dried dark brown stains having seeped through. Carefully, he picked at the medical tape keeping it in place, wincing every time it caught a stray hair, but managed to rip it off and inspect the wound underneath.

A laceration done in such a way there was a small chunk of flesh missing, but it was healing nicely.

Luther reached for his first aid kit, pouring out some antiseptic onto a cloth and pressing it down. He winced again, gritting his teeth, but knew it was all worth it to help it get better.

As he prepared clean bandages to patch it up again, Ben chimed in.

It was scary when you did that. You were so scared.

Luther’s gut churned with unease, remembering the frantic, near manic state he went into a few days prior. It wasn’t the first time it had happened either. A sudden burst of wild emotion overwhelmed him, forcing him to his knees as he tried to let it pass, but the feeling inside him just got worse and worse.

Are you okay now?

“I don’t know.”

He bandaged himself up again, before he traced along a similar mark on his stomach, healed now into a bright pink scar.

His fingers curled into a fist, zipping up his top again before he could do more damage to himself. Ignoring the urge hadn’t done much good the last few times, but maybe this time he’d figure out a way to not hurt himself again.

Doubt it…

He went back to sit at a console, rummaging through the mess of paper cluttering the table.

What’re you doing today?

“Going through these.” Luther scratched his chin as he thought, eyes skipping down the page. “Need to arrange them in order, rewrite them neater...pretty boring, right?”

What work isn’t?

Luther chuckled, splitting the paper into small piles. “Got that right.”

And then silence. Luther became engrossed in his work, only moving to either stretch his back or use the bathroom, and even that wasn’t often.

Sure, it was boring but...it was his kind of boring. One of his earliest memories was pouring over a book on the solar system, using it to try and figure out the constellations he could see from his bedroom window. Him and Five raced to have their hand up first during their physics classes.

It became a one man race after he vanished.

Luther tapped his pen against his temple, chewing the inside of his cheek. His mind was drifting, thinking of his siblings again.

He tried not to think of Five too often, but he still wondered what the hell could have happened to him. Sometimes he wondered if his brother had just settled somewhere. Gotten taken in by a nice family who looked after him.

He didn’t like the alternative. The portrait that hung in the living room reminded him every day for over a decade of the alternative.

That’s how he tried to feel about Ben. He was in a better place. He was at peace. Happier, maybe.

Again. Better than any alternative.

He wasn’t even sure he believed in an afterlife.

With a heavy sigh, Luther pressed his head down against the desk, closing his eyes for a second...

Luther…?

He jolted to sit up again, muscles tensing for a moment before he relaxed, picking the piece of paper that had stuck to his forehead. “Wha’?”

Drifted off bud. Not long.

“Ah. Right.”

You have been working hard for a while.

“It’s not that long-“

Luther cut off upon seeing the time. Eight hours had passed since he started. “Oh. Dang.”

You deserve a break.

“No, I’m...I’m nearly done, it’s fine.”

Luther…

“It’s fine.”

He didn’t mean to snap. He flinched the moment he did, putting his head in his hands.

Look, I get it.

“No you don’t. You’re a plant.”

Luther turned on his seat to face said plant, scowling at the thing. “You’re a voice in my head.”

Helps though, doesn’t it?

Luther wrinkled his nose a little, turning away and tapping a finger against the desk.

Helps to have someone to talk to.

“Crazy Luther Hargreeves, all alone on the moon with a plant that sounds like the brother he let die,” he muttered.

You know that’s not true.

“It’s true enough.”

He suddenly became aware of another console that had been letting out several beeps. Luther gritted his teeth and made his way over, reading the screen.

DELIVERY INCOMING

ESTIMATED ARRIVAL 0823

“Told you more food was coming,” he said, going to suit up once more. He’d missed it landing with his quick nap by about ten minutes.

Out on the moon’s surface, Luther tilted his head back, taking a slow deep breath. He could see the pod the package came in at the usual spot, but he desperately needed some quiet.

Inside his base, there was always some kind of noise. Little things, the consoles and monitors gently humming away in the background, the soft drip of a tap he might have left on. Constant.

Even back home in the mansion after everyone left, he grew used to the creak of floorboards, the structure settling around him. Every opening door making him perk up and hope someone was walking through, coming back.

Outside, on the surface, it was silent. It was like he could hear his body working, every thump of his heart that sent blood coursing through his veins.

In space no one can hear you scream…

So he did. He bent his knees, and took a deep breath and screamed at the top of his lungs. Everything contained within his helmet.

Straightening up, he screamed again, a rush of catharsis overwhelming his brain. It felt good to scream. He should do this more often. Better than hurting himself.

His chest ached a little as he caught his breath once more, staring dazed at the ink black sky above him.

So much...nothing. The night skies were never this clear back on Earth and maybe now he was glad because being confronted with such a sheer vast nothingness every day was sure getting to him. Would explain why his plant was talking.

Luther scrunched his eyes tight, and went to get the delivery. He dragged it inside, changing from his suit once more and tearing the box open.

Anything good?

He glanced up, narrowing his eyes, before getting out smaller boxes of soy paste. He sighed, inspecting the writing. They always said they were different flavours, but he mostly got the same soggy muesli or stale bread taste with every packet he consumed.

That…doesn’t look like a lot.

“Shut up, I know…”

Luther set one aside and put the rest in his food cupboard. He didn’t take a chair this time, just slumped down on the floor and gently squeezed the contents through the packet, huffing heavily.

Luther, that’s not going to last.

“I’ll make it last,” he mumbled, unscrewing the top and sucking gently, trying to savour it, “I have to…”

He tried to focus on the gentle hum of the base instead, closing his eyes to help. He wasn’t sure what had happened in recent months that his food packages were becoming less frequent, and less in amount, but it didn’t help anyone to dwell on that. Dad was busy, he had stuff to do…

C’mon big guy. You know that’s bullshit.

Luther glared up at the ceiling. That was new. Hearing Ben’s voice had happened surprisingly quickly, the moment he decided to name his plant after him. He never heard anyone else’s voice, but having Diego’s growling in his brain was almost a welcome change.

Almost.

You really think he’s that concerned for you up here?

“Shut up…”

Should’ve gotten out when you had the chance.

“Shut up!”

Luther slammed his head back against the console, grunting from the quick hit of pain. When Diego’s voice didn’t go away, kept taunting the same message of should have gotten out when you had the chance, he did it again...and again.

Until there was silence.

Too much silence.

Using the counter for support, he got to his feet and went back to his desk, staring at the piles of paper in front of him.

“This mission is of the utmost importance, Number One.”

That’s what his father had told him after explaining he was going to the moon. He’d blankly affirmed, not pointed out how pointless it was to refer to him by his number when it was just him left (because look what happened last time he said that), and gone along with it.

His whole life, Luther had been raised to lead a team and save the world. His team had left one way or another, and the ‘world saving’ work he did was mostly thankless.

But here he was. On the moon. Part of the mission. Everything was part of this lifelong mission. All the data he was collecting, the experiments he ran, they were important for...something.

Luther stared at his hand, the greyed skin and dark fur that kept making him forget it was his hand. This was all part of it too, somehow. It had to be.

Otherwise…

He finished his work. Filed away the pages neatly and made plans to send them out tomorrow.

For a moment, he hesitated by the umbrella plant, reaching to touch it’s delicate leaves.

“...Ben?” he said softly.

Nothing. Of course not.

With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself back to his bedroom, grabbing his personal notebook from the side table. He flicked through the pages until he landed on the poem he’d been struggling with for the last week, tapping his pen against the words.

Constellations are families, each star has their purpose, their name and position.

They work together as something bigger, part of the galaxy’s nightly exhibition.

There must be times where they can do nothing but fight,

When it grows so tiring to always be shining so bright.

Luther clicked his tongue, frowning at the words. Of all the hobbies he could have taken to pass time up here, he never anticipated poetry, but he was really getting into it, having filled pages already, some of which he’d sent back...just in case Dad was curious.

He could just see his plant on the counter through the door. He went to call Ben’s name again, but he cut himself off and shut his eyes, focusing on the hum of the base once more instead.

The voice in his head was never Ben. Ben was dead. Five had gone long ago. Allison, Diego, Klaus and Vanya were back on Earth living their lives. Had been living their lives quite easily without him.

He’d managed by himself. He was exactly where he wanted.

In space. On the moon. Just him.

Number One.

By himself.

Like it had been for years now.

Tomorrow he’d wake up and go through this again. The self-doubt and the spiralling and the focusing on work so hard to forget what was really happening. Maybe his plant would start talking to him again.

But really they know that no matter how much they argue and moan,

Being a family at odds is far better than being one star all alone.

[sacrisomnia]

❣ slides u this as is legally required

random kiss - accepting !

8 - a dying kiss

✞   “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭–”

Palm weakly smacked against Steve’s shiny red collarbone. Quentin’s hand comes back slick with his blood. (Whose blood it was, exactly, will be lost to the ages.)

Quentin coughed, a spittle of blood trembling down the side of his chin, bubbling out the corner of his mouth. The Nurse’s blade was rusted and angry, keen to rip open your abdomen and reveal everything red and wet hiding within. She sawed him open and left him dying in the grass. 

Steve found him, and how much can Quentin be grateful, if Steve was equally as stupid and altruistic as himself?

Both hands stretched out to balance themselves of Steve’s ragged shoulders. His face was blurry through Quentin’s tears and sweaty bangs.

   “Listen–listen–hatch is–urgh–” he coughed, then wheezed out a breath, “hatch is just in the c-corner across from u-us. Just follow–follow the wall and you 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 miss it.”

He squeezed Steve’s shoulders, grimacing.

   “Don’t bother with me, shithead. Just–she’s hanging a-around. Better you–better you live than both of us d-die.”

Steve’s face was a milky expanse against the stars. Quentin’s new moon. He couldn’t tell what Steve’s face was saying, and maybe he was 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 for that.

Delirium shook his hands and pounded his blood through his ears, as Quentin’s hands dragged up, cradling the line of his jaw. He was turning the moon red. He tugged it down, and pressed his cold mouth against Steve’s. Thin as copper, weak as breath stalling over 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤 skin.

He shoved him away with watery arms, and the Nurse screamed until his vision went dark.

   “Get the 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 out of here.”   ✞

[puyohero]

Puyo Puyo/Darkwing Duck AU fic “proto-prolouge” chapter

Alright, I’ve got a sort of “prototype-prologue” to my Puyo Puyo/Darkwing Duck AU fanfic up. I’d like to remind everyone that this isn’t exactly final, but I’d like to hear what you all think. Please remember that I’d appreciate it if there was NO flaming and/or harsh criticisms. I spent almost the whole day working on this, you know.

Welcome to Pwurp City. A quaint and relatively peaceful metropolis. However, like all metropolis…metropolises? Metropoli…? Meh…like any other CITY, that’s only what you see on the surface. The truth is, it unfortunately has a bit of a…” problem” with the criminal element…

As the moon lights up the night sky, we see what appears to be a pair of imp-like creatures currently in the process of stealing from a store filled to the brim with all kinds of doodads on the outskirts of Pwurp City.

“Hurry up, will ya?! Ugh…I KNEW this was a bad idea…!” exclaimed a Kosatan, a little blue imp normally seen guarding the depths of Lyla’s Ruins. A massive plot of property owned by none other than the Dark Prince himself, Satan. This particular one was carrying an unusually large bag of golden accessories.

“Hey, hey! Don’t rush me! With our small size, do you wanna try carrying 60 pounds of gold back and forth? Sheesh!” retorted yet another Kosatan.

“I’m just saying, I’d rather we get the heck out of here before someone contacts the authorities. Honestly, why are we even doing this again?”

“Do I really need to go over this again? Lord Satan’s one stingy fella...and hecka powerful. If we asked him to give us a raise, I can’t imagine that conversation would go over so well, could you?”

“…Good point. So now what?”

“Well, we’ve already gotten all this loot, right? I imagine this’ll hold us over for, what? 15-20 years? Heh-heheheh…”

“Well, come on. Let’s move before we get into bigger trouble. Huh…?”

“Hmm? Hey, what are ya standing around for?! Weren’t you the one who was just squawking at me to get a move on? What’s the matter?”

“It’s just…Look, I’m sure this is going to sound REALLY cliché, but…have you ever gotten the feeling you’re being watched?”

“Well, no…but if we stay here any longer, I’m sure I WILL feel it. Which why we should be hightailing it out of here!"

“Huh?…Oh, yeah! Right, right!”

Not too far from the Kosatans, we see a dark shadow watching from afar. It appears that the Kosatan that felt like there was a third party to their little gathering may have been a bit justified in his suspicions feelings after all…

In a large puff of red smoke, the Kosatan reel back in shock.

“Wh—What the heck?! What’s going on?! I—I can’t see worth a darn! Hey, where are you?” exclaimed the more nervous Kosatan.

“Agh! You’re stepping on my foot, idiot! Get off me!” yelled the braver Kosatan “Urgh! Where’d all this red smoke come from??”

“I am the terror that prowls in the night!” shouts a booming voice.

“What—what the heck?! What was that?! Is someone there? No…Lord Satan?!”

“I am the dark shadow that haunts your nightmares!”

“Huh? Wait a minute…that voice…that’s not…’OY! Who’s out there?! Show yourself, punk! Hey, be on your guard, man. I don’t know what we’re dealing with, but we should be fine as long as we hold our ground, and don’t show this jerk that we’re scared.”

“Are you scared right now?”

“W—What? Of course not! What’s there to be scared of? Aside from whoever this is trying to steal the gold we so rightfully stole, this is nothing! That doesn’t sound like Lord Satan, and it’s obvious this isn’t that blue-armored magical chick with the weird pet bunny-thing, so who else is there?”

“So…just WHY are you vibrating like a massage chair...” asked the timid Kosatan in a deadpan manner.

“What? I’m not…” the braver Kosatan notices that his body really IS shaking at an unusually high speed. “Wh--?! Oh, shut up! Heck, I’m more surprised you haven’t wet yourself 10 times over already!”

“Hey! I told you that’s a condition that runs in my family!!” cried the timid Kosatan. “AND I told you that in complete secrecy, you jerk!” he hissed.

“HEY!!!” exclaimed the voice, still hidden in the red smoke and startling the two Kosatan. “If you little trolls are done? I was in the middle of my introduction, thank you very much! Now, as I was saying, I am the terror that prowls in the night! I am the dark shadow that haunts your nightmares! I…am Darkbag Chop!!!”

As the dark shadow finally reveals his true form, we see that this paragon of the dark doesn’t have white hair. He wasn’t even drooling. No, this particular shadow wore a paper bag on his head, wearing slightly oversized black-framed glasses on top of THAT. 

In terms of his clothing, he appears to be wearing a blue fedora on top of the paper bag, along with a blue t-shirt with a white tank top over that. He also wore what appears to be blue and red shoulder pads over his left shoulder and torso. It all seem to come together with the help of a blue cape with a red trim. If one didn’t know any better, one would think this mysterious entity resembled that of…

“What the h--- Arle Nadja?! Quick! Run for your—wait, wait. Hold on now. Di---Did you say…DARKBAG CHOP??? Pppfftt…BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! What are you supposed to be? Some otaku grocery clerk who got lost on the way to the supermarket?” asked the brave Kosatan. “Dude, do you see this chump? Man, and here I thought that perverted Dark Wizard could make himself look like a fool just from opening HIS big mouth! Hey…Hey, did you hear m--Uh…buddy?”

Unfortunately, the timid Kosatan, unlike his comrade, is frozen in fear. Losing the ability to bolt away, there’s only one thing he can do now…

“Waaaagghh!!!! Please don’t hurt us!” cried the timid Kosatan. “Look, we’ll give you whatever you want! I beg of you, please don’t hurt me! I bruise as easy as a Puyo!!”

“Oh, boy…” said the brave Kosatan.

“Please, we only did this to get some extra cash! We didn’t want to do it, but we didn’t have much of a choice! That stingy miser Satan barely pays us anything, and we guard Lyla’s Ruins 24/7!”

Darkbag Chop could only look on surprise at the timid Kosatan who suddenly blew up in a panic in front of him. To say that this was NOT how he pictured fighting some of Satan’s minions…was an understatement.

“Heck, there’s been times where he’s given our paychecks to OTHER Kosatans! We all look the same! We can’t help that!”

“Well,” declared Darkbag Chop. “It still doesn’t change the fact that you little imps were trying to steal all this gold! Sorry boys, but it looks like someone’s going be put away for a while.”

“Like heck we are!” shouted the brave Kosatan. “Come on, bud! Let’s mess him up good!”

“Right! Let’s do this thing!” the timid Kosatan agreed.

“Alright, so we’re doing this the hard way, huh? OK then…come at me!”

The brave Kosatan led the charge, swinging a large wooden club at Darkchop.

Darkchop hops over the club, and lands on it, taunting the Kosatan all the while. He performs a flying backflip off of it…only to get a face full of thrown wooden club, courtesy of the timid Kosatan.

Darkchop, realizing these imps won’t be pushovers, decides to get them separated from each other, to avoid any more team attacks.

Darkchop gets the brave Kosatan to follow him into an alley, and as it attempts to track the paper-bag wearing hero, it doesn’t realize that he’s right behind him preparing to karate chop him into submission. 

That is, until Darkchop clumsily trips over a rock, alerting the imp to his presence. It swings its club at him once again, leading to D.C. just barely avoiding getting his head knocked off his body. D.C. decides to stop playing around, and whips out a pistol-like weapon.

The weapon releases a canister containing of orange powder which lands on the brave Kosatan.

“Huh? Orange powder?  Ha! What’s this? Are you gonna paint me to death? You’re mine, ya paper-bag wearing dork!” shouts the brave Kosatan. ‘ The Kosatan rushes at D.C., but starts to scratch the arm holding his club. And more. And more. Until he can’t stop!

“What the---? My body…My skin feels tingly…Why am I so…? Ah…ah…. Ahhh!! Oh, jeez! Oh, my…What the heck is going on?! Why do I feel so…” inquires the brave Kosatan

“Itchy? Tell me, imp boy. You ever heard something called, Oh, I don’t know…ITCHING POWDER?” Darkchop asks in a taunting manner.

“Itching pow…ITCHING POWDER?!?! Oof…Ahh!! I can’t stop!” cried the brave Kosatan.

Darkchop knocks the brave Kosatan out with a timed chop to the neck, and tosses him in the sidecar of his custom-made Vespa-like vehicle, the ‘Mystical King’.

The brave Kosatan was sprawled out along the ground. The timid Kosatan, who had been watching the entire exchange from a distance was shocked to see how D.C. was handling his comrade. He decides to bolt from all the action before Darkchop figures out that he’s disappeared. All the while, panicking over what to do.

“Oh, man! I gotta get the heck out of dodge before this jerk comes after me too! But where can I hide? Puyo Hell is WAY too far to make the trip. Besides, I doubt Lord Satan will be all too happy that we even caused all this commotion and brought it to his domain.”

Suddenly, the ‘Mystical King’ comes racing down the same path that the timid Kosatan is on, with Darkchop preparing to scoop the little Kosatan up in a net. “Time to go-a-hunting!” yells Darkchop as he grabs the Kosatan just as it notices it’s being chased.

“Waahh!! Wha—What are you gonna do to us?” the timid Kosatan asked, although it was practically dreading the answer.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little horn. Besides, I already I have an idea as to how I’ll be handling that...” Darkchop explains, in a cryptic manner.

Next thing the Kosatan knows, the ‘Mystical King’ seem to go into overdrive, speeding off into the night.

(Not even 15 minutes later, at Lyla’s Ruins)

Now at Lyla’s Ruins, Darkchop talks to a rather large demon guarding Satan’s castle after handing off the two Kosatan to it.

“Here’s the pair of dastardly little delinquents! Delivered on your doorstep, courtesy of Darkbag Chop! I found them trying to steal some gold from Mr. Oshare’s store.” says Darkchop.

“Thanks, pal. It’s a good thing you took care of this before Lord Satan found out.” said the guard. I’m pretty sure he’s busy in his Carbuncle shrine, and believe you me, he does NOT like to be disturbed when he’s in there, and I don’t want to have to be the poor soul who tells him about all this nonsense.”

“Say, speaking of which...” inquired Darkchop. “While I don’t condone what those imps were doing, have any of you demons ever thought of asking Satan for a raise? As lovestruck as that guy may be more often than not, he never came off as the type to be all stingy and whatnot. Arle and her pet rabbit-thing notwithstanding...”

“Well...would YOU ask Lord Satan, or any demon for that matter, such a question?” asked the guard in a deadpan manner.

Rubbing the back of his head with his right hand, Darkchop sheepishly replies, “Heh-heh...uh, g---good point there.”

Darkchop,prepares to leave, but remembers something he should mention to the guard.

“Oh, hold up! Heh, almost forgot. Soooo…. In the event that any, I don’t know…news stations just HAPPEN to come by here and ask about tonight, just tell ‘em who sent these troublemakers packing…Darkbag Chop!”

“Uh, wha—"

“Oh, and that's two words, not three; the D AND the C ARE capitalized. Here's my photo. If the papers need more glossies, my numbers on the card.” Darkchop chuckled.

“Oh…well, O…K? So, again…thanks for bringing these guys in.” inquired the guard.

With a billow of his cape, Darkchop dramatically spun around and faced the guard.

“Don’t mention it, my good demon! Now, I must go! The despicable odor of crime and general evil-doing…is in the air!!” yelled Darkchop.

“What a self-promoting weirdo…I mean, DARKBAG CHOP? What kind of a stupid name…?” said the guard.

Darkbag left the premises of Satan’s castle, trying to make himself look presentable for the news cameras, only to find…

“What the---So, where the heck’s the press? The news reporters, the journalists, the Twatters?? I THOUGHT this was the new age of high-octane media! 

Where’s the action news when you actually need ‘em? Sheesh…and just after I spent all morning to ironing out my cape and cleaning up my shoulder pads…”

Darkchop boards the ‘Mystical King’, and rides off into the night. Eventually, he makes his way to his hideout, Darkchop Tower. A tall tower located in an uncharted portion of the woods. He flips a small switch on the M.K., causing a long ramp-like structure to shoot out the side of the tower wall, allowing the ‘Mystical King’ access to the tower’s interior.

As he rides in, Darkchop makes his way to the top of the tower, and rides into a large room that appears to be the hangar where he parks the M.K. He leaves the hangar, and enters a corridor leading to the kitchen of the tower.

“Honey, I’m home!” shouts Darkchop. The room is deathly silent, not another soul to be found. Honestly, it’s a little depressing.

“Woof…yet another night cleansed of the criminal element, thanks to…Darkbag Chop! Oh, man…I swear, one look at my Puyo pillow, and I’ll be out like a light. But FIRST!...Some breakfast. I’m starving here…”

Darkchop heads over to his kitchen, which looks somewhat unkempt, but mostly because of all the gadgets he has lying in the tower.

“Alrighty then, let’s see what we got here…Sunny-C, some pink stuff, leftover sake from that little get-together at the Skeleton Bros.’ place, but where is—ah, here it is! Chocolate-chip pancakes, buttered toast, and to top it all off, eggs and bacon! It might mean indulging a bit, but after all that craziness last night, treating myself wouldn’t too much of an issue...”

After making breakfast, Darkchop reads the newspaper to see if he made any headlines recently. Unfortunately, what he sees doesn’t exactly delight him, to say the least. 

“Aw, what?! Still nothing?! ‘Arle Nadja foils schemes of Dark Prince yet again’? Foil evil schemes, my aunt Fanny! Unbelievable! You know, I put my neck out to keep these towns safe from any harm from REAL monsters almost every night!” Darkchop starts up from his chair, marching around angrily while clutching the newspaper.

“What kind of evil scheme is this newspaper even talking about? Knowing the song-and-dance between Arle and Satan, that lovestruck imbecile probably tried to do something to impress her, only for it to end up endangering the planet, and I’ll bet they played Puyo, with her winning yet again!”

Annoyed, Darkchop starts to chug down some orange juice, skip breakfast due to his sour mood and heads to bed. He starts to feel a little bit down in the dumps and goes to change into his pajamas, preparing for a couple hours of deep sleep.

“Arle and that blonde girl and the redhead, they usually seem to have the big stuff handled, and that’s just from popping a bunch of blobs from time to time! Heck, they even seem to have some pretty interesting adventures. Traveling between dimensions, going into space, fighting demon kings and space creatures alike.

“But still, it’s not like I haven’t done anything special! I mean, I kept tabs on that kid with the red arm for almost 3 months…although I DID end up getting flack for it when his teacher reported me to the authorities for bugging her classroom… I just can’t believe it. Me, a superhero getting upstaged by a bunch of Puyo-popping teenage girls! I mean, what the heck?!”

“Hmm…there’s times where I wonder if what I’m doing really matters in the long run. I mean, I fight monsters, spirits, and the occasional mischievous demon every now and then, but does it ever really amount to anything if no one’s aware of my good deeds? I’d like it if I got a chance to take on a big-time baddie like Satan or the Count.”

Darkchop gets up with a start, surprised at himself.

“What am I saying?! Just because I don’t get a headline in a newspaper, or even a short section about my exploits on the news, it doesn’t mean I should just quit the hero business! This town needs a protector, and I’m it! For I am the terror that prowls in the night! I am the I am the cholesterol that clogs your arteries! I…am Darkbag Chop!”

“Besides, it’d be a real shame to have all this cool stuff go to waste. Not to mention, how it was so nice for Wish and her husband to let me rent out their tower. They really are good people. I should probably send them a gift basket. I wonder what they’d like…”

[garden-ghoul]

two blogs, part 9

“I haven’t actually checked so I don’t know if it’s part 9 or not. but I swear fellowship was shorter.”

THE FORBIDDEN POOL

Frodo woke to find Faramir bending over him. For a second old fears seized him and he sat up and shrank away.

`There is nothing to fear,' said Faramir.

'Is it morning already? ' said Frodo yawning.

In my head this looks like a really badly acted thing where every time the camera cuts back to Frodo he has an expression totally unrelated to the one he had last time you saw him. Like [shot of Frodo, terrified] “no it’s okay” [shot of Frodo nonchalantly yawning, sitting up again for some reason even though he sat up in the last shot] What I’m saying is that this weird disjointed narration is great. Urgh I did a whole paragraph and we’re four sentences in.

Yeah anyway Faramir just wants to show Frodo how pretty the moon is. And ask him something. Frodo’s dating sim experience is BACK with a vengeance. There’s a bunch of weirdly romantic shots of Frodo and Faramir standing silently next to each other in the moonlight above the secret waterfall, which I want you to imagine rendered in the style of Revolutionary Girl Utena. After that Faramir points down at Gollum and is like “look Frodo who is that guy?”

“Well,” says Frodo, “he’s fishing.”

Nevertheless if he ever tells anyone where the secret base is dudes could die, so Frodo, to stop Gollum from getting shot, goes down to talk to him. Smeagol is singing a cute song about how eating lots of fish will make him strong enough to throttle everyone.

Only one true shot, and Frodo would be rid of the miserable voice for ever. But no, Gollum had a claim on him now. The servant has a claim on the master for service, even service in fear.

Sorry but “the servant has claim on the master” is Really Good and I got gay. This is probably an unethical thing to be gay about, but, like, whatever. Anyway Smeagol doesn’t want to come with, he wants to finish eating his fish even after Frodo tells him he is about to get murdered. Frodo has to threaten him to get him to come ::( And he also understands that Gollum will think he’s being betrayed, and there’s no way around it. But things seem to get mostly sorted out. Gollum has safe passage in Gondor as long as he’s with Frodo. Faramir’s heart breaks for Frodo, though. He wishes, as we all do, that he could spare Frodo this awful errand and his awful travelling companion.

‘Would you have me come to Gondor with this Thing,’ said Frodo, ‘the Thing that drove your brother mad with desire? What spell would it work in Minas Tirith? Shall there be two cities of Minas Morgul, grinning at each other across a dead land filled with rottenness?’

YO. And Faramir’s parting words... “If ever beyond hope you return to the lands of the living and we retell our tales, sitting by a wall in the sun, laughing at old grief, you shall tell me then.” Wargh. He’s so gentle and gay. But now it’s time for Frodo to make the

JOURNEY TO THE CROSSROADS

Faramir gives our hobbits some food and also... enchanted walking sticks?? Cool as hell. “A virtue has been set upon them,” he says, which I assume means they’re enchanted. I didn’t know Gondor still knew magic.

So they go on their way for a couple days and have a rest due west of Minas Morgul. My favorite thing about this passage is that Gollum can smell what time of day it is. We rest in a holly forest for a while, which is just an image I love. But it must be very uncomfortable, because even fallen holly leaves are very sharp. ALSO we see the very last hopeful thing on this journey: a headless (defiled) statue of some Gondorian king... but with flowers growing on the severed head like a crown.

'They cannot conquer for ever!' said Frodo. And then suddenly the brief glimpse was gone. The Sun dipped and vanished, and as if at the shuttering of a lamp, black night fell.

Since that was a short one, I still have time tonight to take you up

THE STAIRS OF CIRITH UNGOL

All was dark about it, earth and sky, but it was lit with light. Not the imprisoned moonlight welling through the marble walls of Minas Ithil long ago, Tower of the Moon, fair and radiant in the hollow of the hills. Paler indeed than the moon ailing in some slow eclipse was the light of it now, wavering and blowing like a noisome exhalation of decay, a corpse-light, a light that illuminated nothing. In the walls and tower windows showed, like countless black holes looking inward into emptiness...

Windows like a thousand eyes turned inward! Doors that hinge on time itself! The fourth tower of Inverness!!! Honestly please reply if you’ve listened to that, it was probably extremely formative for me. I love ZBS it’s so fucking weird. Anyway there’s some more description of how gross Minas Morgul is, and Frodo gets enchanted by the Fourth Tower and has to be pulled away. Then they start up the stairway. Okay so... who made this? No way someone carved a stairway into the mountain to visit Shelob. So what was up there before she was?

Frodo is so tired, so very tired. This is largely the Ring’s doing. It’s trying to stall him out in the open so he’ll be seen by the Nazgul. Indeed, the witch-king rides out of Minas Morgul with an army in response to a hilariously over-the-top five-hundred-foot-high signal, possibly meant for intimidation. I feel like I remember Pippin and Gandalf seeing this from the upper storeys of Minas Tirith and being like “aw fuck.”

'The storm has burst at last,' Frodo thought. `This great array of spears and swords is going to Osgiliath. Will Faramir get across in time? And who can now hold the fords when the King of the Nine Riders comes? And other armies will come. I am too late. All is lost. I tarried on the way. All is lost. Even if my errand is performed, no one will ever know. There will be no one I can tell. It will be in vain.' Overcome with weakness he wept. And still the host of Morgul crossed the bridge.

Sammmmee. Faramir is Going To Die at Osgiliath. AND STILL THE HOST OF MORGUL CROSSED THE BRIDGE. Ugh this imagery is SUPER GOOD. Frodo is strengthened a little once the army passes; he shoves Galadriel’s star-vial under his shirt. C-cute. Now we climb the stairs. Yes, and now more stairs. The path to Minas Morgul, the “wraith-road” glows like a glow-worm. Yesss. The hobbits have what they are secretly thinking of as their Last Meal, just a little before the tunnel. Sam wonders if they’ll be able to find water; orcs drink, don’t they? Frodo replies that what they drink is “not for us.” Implying that the water in Mordor is unsafe and it’s only safe to drink alcohol! And then Sam delivers some superb story-telling meta:

‘The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo, I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting. But that's not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually - their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn't. And if they had, we shouldn't know, because they'd have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on - and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end.’

Hell. Makes me want to write epic quests. Doesn’t that make you want to write epic quests? Sam also notes that the tale of Beren and Luthien continues with them now, as they still have the light with them of the Silmaril she stole. Same story, same light, different darkness. Ain’t that just the way. Also still fuck dark = bad, light = good, that’s bad meta. Sam and Frodo keep talking about the stories people will tell about them. A little protected space in Cirith Ungol. This is the part of the story kids won’t want to hear, says Frodo.

Frodo goes to sleep with his head in Sam’s lap. Smeagol comes back from whatever errand he’s been on and sees them together, and remembers long ago when he had people who would touch him like that. He reaches out to softly touch Frodo’s knee... and Sam wakes up and starts shouting at him. I am so fucking sad, you guys. Sam and Smeagol are the WORST for each other, Frodo needs both of them but together they just.. destroy everything... let Smeagol get hugs... [weeping] please let him hug

[njmphadora]

natty!!! omg congratulations!!! okay my fav blogger is jesprefahey because kai is the truest bro, and my name is phoenix ;p

@jesprefahey // you are loved!! [detailed rate + name aes under the cut]

join my 3k celebrations!

P H E O N I X : the ground littered with autumn leaves so that it feels like you’re walking on flames; a crescent moon glowing, a bright beam of light in a pitch black sky;  hair swept away from a neck, one swift move, a flash of flesh.

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