#we love figuring out pacing for three separate ships in a single go
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Me: i can totally watch a drawfee stream and write this fic at the same time
Reader, they were lying through their fuckin' teeth.
#committing to the bit all the same though#i know more or less what the final few scenes of this fic are but they are fiiiighting me#we love figuring out pacing for three separate ships in a single go#oh my god i just got distracted FROM making this post this is going GREAT
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For the physical affection prompt; number 2 (interlocking pinkies) with malex (I loved so many of these prompts but damnn this one stood out to me) have a wonderful day/night 💗
Heeeeey!
Thank you so much for sending me this! When I read the list, this one seemed the most adorable, too!
And Thank you for your patience! I hope you like this 🖤...
Isobel watched Michael pace back and forth, as he had been for the past thirty minutes, and resisted the urge to snap at him to sit down already. She just rolled her eyes.
Michael stopped and threw his hands up in the air. "Why the hell are they not here yet?! They were supposed to be back half an hour ago."
Isobel huffed. "I don't know, Michael. Traffic?"
He glared, and just before she snapped at him, Isobel forced herself to look at him; really look. Michael looked tired, and there was an undercurrent of fear that he was trying way too hard to hide.
She sighed, got up out of her chair and forced him to stop by putting both her hands on his shoulders. "They'll be fine," she reassured him quietly.
His shoulders slumped and curled forward. "You can't know that. And we can't trust Jones to keep him safe."
Isobel smirked. "Them," she corrected him teasingly.
He rolled his eyes. "You know I don't care about Valenti."
She shook her head. "Listen to me. We have the ship he so desperately wants, and he knows if he does anything to Alex, we'll destroy it without hesitation. Plus-" she wiggled her eyebrows, "I don't know if you've noticed, but Alex is a badass and can handle himself. If anything, we should worry about him maiming Jones on this trip."
He bit his lip. "He's gonna be alright, isn't he, Iz?"
She nodded. "He is. And hey-"
The sound of three rapid knocks on the door interrupted her and Michael all but ran the short distance between them and the door. He opened it and in came the three men. Kyle looked amused, Alex looked smug and Jones looked pissed off.
Michael made an aborted movement in Alex's direction, something which Alex mirrored, and she and Kyle exchanged an eye roll at their awkwardness.
Isobel really didn't know what was stopping them from going for it. Alex was single as of two weeks ago, Michael had been single since he and Maria broke up and anyone can see they loved each other. Isobel, more than anything, wanted to shake the two of them, knock their heads together and lock them in a room and keep them there until they talked or- well, anything would be better than this yearning.
She ushered them in, and they all sat at the table. Jones began his long winded rant, and Isobel could practically see the steam coming out of his ears every time Kyle or Alex interrupted him. Isobel turned him out for the most part and instead watched Alex and Michael.
Michael was still tense, and he kept stealing anxious glances at Alex every few seconds. Alex was more or less the same, but he was still where Michael was fidgety, and his jaw clenched with every look from Michael in his direction.
A minute or two later, something changed. Isobel cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow.
Michael was relaxed in a way she hadn't seen in a long time. He'd stopped fidgeting, and there was a small, almost nonexistent smile on his face.
Alex, though harder to read, seemed to have relaxed, too. She looked between them, eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what changed, when she noticed it; Alex's right arm, and Michael's left one, were close to each other, making a very loose v. Isobel couldn't resist and made a show of dropping something and quickly bent down to peek under the table.
Her brother's pinkie finger was interlocked with Alex's, tightly, and their hands were swaying softly.
Isobel straightened up, and couldn't keep from smiling at her brother. At his questioning look, she slowly dragged her eyes down his arm and then back up, and watched him duck his head shyly.
Isobel nearly laughed in disbelief. She never thought Michael and shy could ever exist in the same sentence but here they were.
Jones was the first to leave, followed by Kyle, but Alex and Michael didn't move to get up. If anything, they settled in the chairs even more, and were now sitting closer together.
Isobel let them be, and went to the kitchen to make coffee. She poured coffee for the three of them, and took it into the living room. She stopped dead in her tracks, mouth hanging open in surprise.
One of them had moved his chair closer to the other, and now they were sitting impossibly close. Alex had his head on Michael's shoulder, and Michael's face was turned sideways, his nose buried in the other man's hair and his eyes closed.
Their hands were now resting on the table, and their pinkies were still intertwined.
Seeing them like this was as adorable as it was frustrating.
She made her way to them slowly, and set the tray on the table quietly. Alex's eyes fluttered open, and he rubbed his eye with a finger like she imagined a toddler would after a nap. Michael was looking at him with a dopey look that made Isobel roll her eyes.
"Here," she said quietly, and pushed their mugs towards them.
There was a moment of hesitation on their part, one in which she thought they would separate and move away from each other, but they didn't.
Instead, they took their coffee mugs in their free hands, and when they settled back in their chairs, there was not a hair of space between them.
Isobel took a sip of her coffee, and hid her smile there.
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Olive Branch
Written for the 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth and as the Free Day Prompt for @ygotplusweek
100ships Challenge Prompt #63: Olive
YGOTPlus Prompt(s): Reunions, Negotiations, Favourite Things, Separate, Learning Something New
Ship: Rockdustshipping | Earth/Spectre/Ryoken
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Word Count: 2,423
Rating: T
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Tags: Post Canon, Canon Divergent, Self Indulgent, Minor or Implied Possessiveness, Developing Relationship, Eventual Polyamory
AN: this is my guilty pleasure ot3, I just want to have my two cakes and eat them too!!
The current situation was rapidly beginning to unfold into scenarios that Ryoken had never wanted to entertain. He would not call it the worst case scenarios - unfortunately, things like armageddon had a rightful place in thoughts and calculations like those - but he was not going to be quick to call it ideal. He still had a few fingers that he could cross but already, his heart was beginning to break just from witnessing this scenario unfold in the flesh, blood, and some pixels too.
Ideally, there would be zero Ignis but he knew Fujiki Yusaku, Playmaker, as one thing and one thing only: incredibly determined. Once his will was committed to something, it all but brought miracles forth so Ryoken accepted that a new era would likely unfold. Perhaps from the mistakes of the previous one, this second coming would be more hopeful. He had his own, after all.
He wanted to commit to his redemption. His atonement. To himself and his own nature, not as a destroyer but a protector. He had wanted to protect the children of the Hanoi Project and now, he wanted to protect what little serenity and closure they had found, finally, ten years later.
This, however, would test him, Ryoken knew, not instinctively but for more humanly reasons than that as well.
Thanks to Playmaker and his own Ignis’s determination, they had managed to revive the five remaining Ignis. Some of those matches were easier to make than others. Returning Flame to Takeru would be safe and teary-eyed; returning Aqua to Miyu and Aoi would be joyful and misty-eyed; but then there were the others. Ryoken did not have stable predictions for what would happen were Lightning and Windy were to return to their respective Origins but, for better or worse, he did have eyes. He did not need to predict what would happen were Earth returned to Spectre for he could just watch such a thing happen.
In fact, it was happening right now and it was already piercing Ryoken’s armour and cracking his heart.
Ryoken had always known it would one day come to this. Or that it should have come to this, possibly even sooner than ten years. He had run the simulations as a child, to discover what was the link that kept breaking, and in them, he did discover that Earth was not the cause for what would eventually break. He never was. If anything, he fixed things. Drastically so, if only for one person: Spectre. His Spectre.
Time and time again, running those simulations, Ryoken saw all the pathways in which Spectre and Earth would become remarkably good friends. Family. Partners. Whatever form their bond took, it was unbreakable and truly only brought the best in each other. A clean track of wins for both of them, in theory, at least. And it had incensed Ryoken.
Spectre was his. Not Earth’s.
Ryoken was Spectre’s first everything. First friend, first confidante, first person who had ever truly loved him. Spectre adored Ryoken and Ryoken matched that adoration as best as he could.
But he saw the digital future. He saw how Earth would disrupt that. The Ignis had to be exterminated regardless. It would be best if Spectre knew, it would protect him. The truth would only ever hurt but Ryoken now suspected, he had been for a fair few months now, that Spectre had come to realise that the bond that he was meant to have with his Ignis would have been incredible. And Ryoken had destroyed that possibility in some vain, petty destruction that only served his own ego.
Ryoken rationalised it as being a child. Volatile, short tempered, not properly fused or wired yet. But he still felt it. That streak of possessiveness that flared a mile wide as he watched Earth and Spectre meet for the first time. Or was it a reunion as they had always known each other, on some level that Ryoken couldn’t begin to understand because he hadn’t been the one experimented on and had life created from his brainwaves and duelling. A bond that could only be truly called soulful or psychic.
A storm raged inside of him when he should have been happy for his beloved friend. Instead, he was in wrongful furor that Spectre might be able to become happy because of someone who was not him. It was a storm between right and wrong and Ryoken knew to part it not unlike the beam of a lighthouse and he knew which side to take, even if it did repulse him. He just couldn’t let himself get in the way of Spectre’s happiness as Spectre was, easily, his most important person.
Spectre’s eyes were wide with the purest wonder that Ryoken didn’t even think he was capable of such an unguarded, vulnerable expression. In the corners of his eyes was the glistening on a single tear. He hazarded a feeble smile as he welcomed his Ignis back to the realm of the living with a shaking hand.
Earth reached out to him and his demeanour could only be described as calm. The past half an hour was a whirlwind, even to Ryoken so he was surprised - and maybe even impressed - that Earth could be so stony face before Spectre who was coming close to blubbering with happiness with the events that had occurred. Once more, Pandora’s box had been open but this time, it had been Playmaker’s fingers on the lock and key.
He had brought back the Ignis and returned them to a respectable vicinity of their Origins, forcing the data back through the Link VRAINS and getting it to rematerialise in the real world. Ryoken, a good programmer and coder in his own right, could only regard it as nothing short of magic.
“It is good to see you.” Earth said. The sound of his voice was even but gladdened.
He reached out to Spectre’s hand and though he was a large Ignis, he was still entirely dwarfed by the scale of a human. Both his hands clasped onto a couple of Spectre’s fingers and he was made to seem so small because of it. Nonetheless, he gallantly shook Spectre’s hands and that appeared to cleanse them of their nervous jitters.
“It's good to meet you, Earth,” Spectre replied, a hiccup to his voice, “but it feels like I already know you.”
Earth’s eyes softened, “I feel the same.” he confessed.
Ryoken wanted to scream. To yell. To rage. To do anything but let this selfishness stew inside of him as he held onto the helmet of his VR set. They hadn’t even had the time to get up and stretch their legs before being thrust into this situation that Ryoken could only describe as the most impossible and unplanned future possible, hurtling forward at a pace of a few minutes at best.
Spectre shyly glanced towards Ryoken, his heart beating quicker in his chest than it normally did. He could see the upset in Ryoken’s face but he was glad that Ryoken was here. He wanted Ryoken to be here for this quite dearly. He returned his gaze to Earth and it was apologetic.
“Are you aware?” Spectre hesitantly asked Earth. “Of my activities as a Knight of Hanoi?”
Earth was very quiet, his expression turned very stern and with glacial speed, he finally replied, “No…”
“No?” Ryoken exclaimed. He was startled and he awkwardly took his interjection as an excuse to cross the vast chasm between his own perch on one side of the room and Spectre’s on the other.
“Truly?” Spectre asked and he had to swallow a giggle.
“Er… yes… truly.” Earth said. “My best recollection of events is as follows: us Ignis made a pact not to interact with the material world, including with our Origins, for a while, we lived in the best harmony we could muster…
“One day, a dragon destroyed the Cyberse World, we were protected by Ai who did his best to flee from this dragon… When Ai released us, Windy and Lightning withdrew. I believe now to put in place their own machinations that resulted in this Bohman figure being created.
“I only desired to find Aqua, she was taken before I could make my decision. A decision that has now been taken from me as I have now been thrust before you… But I wanted to base my decision on logic and sound information. I needed to know more about the humans but unlike my duplicitous kin, even Aqua to an extent, I endeavoured to honour my vow so I never sought you out.
“So, now I have to ask, what were your activities as a Knight of Hanoi? It sounds noble so I desire to tentatively approve.” Earth looked up very cautiously at Spectre, and even towards Ryoken, as he finished his ramble.
Ryoken could not believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t decide if this was extremely lucky or extremely unlucky. How ironic that such a perceptive and observant person such as Spectre produced such an oblivious Ignis, even if Earth was right to conclude that he needed to proceed with information rather than instinct or some other whim, no matter how fond. He supposed that it would be up to Spectre to decide the worth of the fortune before them.
And Spectre seemed very quick to make that decision, he took a breath then explained, “Master Ryoken is the dragon who destroyed your first home. We, the Knights of Hanoi, have been hunting you for the past five, almost six, years, trying to destroy.”
Earth’s blue eyes went wide. This was certainly news to him - and Ryoken did find himself relishing that.
“Is that true?” he asked, turning to Ryoken. “You are the good doctor’s son, are you not? The son of the man who created us Ignis, I - I have vague memories of your face as a child, seeing you from within the apparatus I was created within. Is that true?”
“In its entirety.” Ryoken gravely replied, folding his arms.
“M-My…” Earth murmured.
“You understand why three of your companions were so eager to take up arms against us humans now, don’t you?” Ryoken said and he felt some snake of vindication inside of him, that Earth may flee from them and all would be right with what was left of Ryoken’s little world.
And yet, Earth steadied, “I do,” he admitted, “but Spectre spoke in past tense just now, I noticed. He said “for five, almost six years”, that would imply the activity has ceased, albeit recently.”
“Correct.” Ryoken growled. “We desire to protect the Link VRAINS, to do what we can with technology that once brought misery, to bring joy. To keep the Incident concealed so the victims can enjoy privacy.” Ryoken then took a sharp breath. “To even allow the behaving Ignis some space in this world, you were created to enrich humanity but per my observations, I believe it is only possible for you lot to touch a handful of lives at best. Though it pains me, I would appreciate it if you were able to do so with Spectre.”
Now it was Spectre’s turn to be in disbelief of his own ears. His face paled but purely because he was stunned to hear such words from Ryoken’s mouth. He thought it was going to take hours upon hours of convincing him, grovelling all but on his knees, to allow Earth to stay with them. Ryoken had always been brusque upon the subject of Spectre’s unique Ignis at the best of times and at the worst, Spectre recoiled to remember what was said implicitly and explicitly about Earth’s death from Ryoken.
Earth’s expression lightened and a peculiar thing happened. A thin branch manifested in his hands. It was thin and wiry, delicate, plumed with rounded leaves with a few bounties blooming off the stem. Earth held onto it preciously. Spectre recognised the branch by its leaves; Ryoken recognised it by its boon. A literal olive branch and it was one that Earth chose to gift to Ryoken.
“It is my understanding that the olive branch is a symbol of surrender and compromise to humans, that to give one to another means to cease an argument or war.” Earth rambled.
“Yes, that is correct.” Spectre assured him.
“Then my intentions should be apparent but if not, if I have muddled them somehow, I wish to live long and well alongside you and Spectre.” Earth said. “I value peace over all else, to the point of uselessness, perhaps, but that is who I am.”
Ryoken’s gaze wandered towards Spectre. He looked so… hopeful. It was bright and bittersweet, as such he was holding his tongue. Ryoken took a breath and he accepted Earth’s gift.
“I believe I can find those values complementary to my own.” Ryoken replied.
There likely wasn’t a response that could have overjoyed Spectre more. He got to his feet, untangling from the VR set, and embraced Ryoken. Ryoken stiffened but he pat Spectre’s shoulder before finally hugging him back. Earth, meanwhile, settled on Spectre’s head.
He looked down on them both rather curiously, like he was still quantifying the various rituals of humans even though hugging was not something alien to him as an Ignis. It was more the metrics of these two and their particular relationship, perhaps even how he would figure into their equation.
If so, Ryoken felt the same.
He still very much, at his best and kindest, wanted to fling Earth far, far away from his domain, keep him alive just with other arrangements for a home, perhaps with Aqua and either of her girls or even with Ai and Yusaku. Instead, Ryoken swallowed that one-sided resentment that he had stoked since he was a child, trying to understand the intertwining paths of Spectre and his Ignis and instead, endeavoured to make peace with this Ignis. For Spectre’s sake. He would merely have to believe that Spectre whose heart seemingly only had enough space to love and adore just one could have enough room for two.
After all, at the end of the day and at the end of time, all Ryoken wanted was to make Spectre happy and it had been proven to him, time and time again, there should be no better way than to let him have his Ignis. So, perhaps, he could come to tolerate - maybe even become fond - for the socially awkward little creature, too. If only for Spectre.
#yugioh polyship week#yugioh polyship week 2020#yugioh vrains#vrains#yugioh#ryoken kogami#spectre (vrains)#earth (vrains)#respectfulshipping#motherearthshipping#writing tag#100ships challenge#aaaaa i always feel bad for enjoying this ship since its so niche
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Emperors Consort | Chapter 2
Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Zhongli / Childe, #Zhongchi Tags: R18, A/B/O Dynamics, Royalty AU Summary: aka "Emperor's consort doesn't know the difference between being a concubine and being a consort" Tsaritsa wants her child to have a good life after serving her on the battlefield for so long, so she makes a deal with an old friend. In exchange for her military might, he will marry her son. Childe who has no formal omega training has to do his best to cover up the fact he has no idea what he's doing. Do your best to be a good omega Childe!
He remembers the familiar ache in his back and knot in his shoulders from the last time he travelled from the mother country to Liyue. The arrival at the harbour was busy per usual. The sounds of Liutian and foreigners alike moving around the harbour, the voices that speak of trades and exchange greetings merge together creating a mess of noise. His fellow Fatui agents unloading the luggage they brought (limited to a single case per person), dressed in their fatui garb ready to split ways after unloading and receiving orders from the youngest Harbinger.
Tartaglia dressed in his civilian clothing and did a quick scan of the harbour. It didn’t look like much had changed much over the years he had been away. He had been wearing his Harbinger uniform up until he could see the outline of the harbour from the ship, before remembering he was not there for a quick mission.
He was there to potentially get mated (and possibly married).
“I’m sure you know what to do.” Childe says without having to turn to look at his agents, but he knows they were listening. “Independent action until necessary, don’t cause any trouble that I can’t get you out of.” He glanced over his shoulder to watch his agents nod at him. Usually they would disappear by now, going their own separate directions but they stood there behind him. Childe raised his brow when he still felt their presence behind him and fully turned to them.
“Speak.”
“Sir, are you truly going to become the emperor’s omega?” He recalls her name, Ekaterina, who was there during his last stay in Liyue years ago.
“It’s part of Tsaritsa's deal with the emperor. Who am I to disobey her?”
“What about your position as a Harbinger, sir?” a skirmisher asks, timidly rubbing the back of his head for speaking so boldly to his superior. Childe gave a half-glare at the taller male before he rolled his eyes.
“I’m still a Harbinger. This ‘mating with the emperor’ shit isn’t solid.” He does air quotations with his fingers. “What is important right now is the mission. If you find out what the emperor's big dilemma is before I do, please relay it back to me.” His agents clung to every word he uttered as if he spoke the gospel, memorising it down to each syllable to avoid missing anything and honestly, he loved it.
Surely this ‘mating and marriage’ could turn optional if he finishes the mission earlier than intended. Childe starts running through various possibilities that could happen to him when he finally starts living at the palace to prepare himself from being caught off guard. If he revealed himself to be a Harbinger right away, the emperor would put him to work immediately. They would solve the problem faster than usual. -
‘Because I’m talented and strong, it would be done in no time.’ Childe thinks to himself.
And in the end the emperor would have to mate and marry him to uphold the Tsaritsa’s end of the bargain. But… if he pretended he was just a useless omega prince, would the emperor be more willing to let him go?
He smirks at the idea before turning to his agents.
“Do not tell anyone that I’m a Harbinger.” He watches them nod once at his command.
“Dismissed.” He smiles and they disappear in the blink of an eye.
‘This could be fun.’ he thinks, his smile stretching holding more mischief from his clever plan. ‘I’ll be back home in no time.’
“You’re the Tsaritsa’s son.” a voice snapped him out of his devious thoughts. He turned to his left, seeing no one. A little cough in the direction he was looking at made him glance down meeting eyes with a small girl, much shorter than himself that she had to tilt her head upwards to meet his eyes. Her mouth was curled into a distasteful pout, likely irritated at the obvious height difference.
Childe couldn’t hold back the smile that grew on his face. She was so tiny. The girl might have mistaken Childe’s smile as a mocking one and grew more irritated, her brows furrowing together.
‘She’s a fighter.’ he thinks as his eyes travel further down, intrigued by the sword attached at her hip decorated with extravagant carvings. The guard was shaped like a lion's head, beautiful listening gold in the afternoon light and the little eyes seemed to glow fiercely with amber gems. Analysing her figure, he realizes could probably beat her if they fought. He should be nice to her, since fighting weaker people did not bring any pleasure.
“I’m speaking to you.” She doesn’t mask the irritation in her voice when she glares at him. He continues to watch her with curious eyes, eyebrow raised as she moves her light purple hair behind her shoulder in one elegant toss of her hand before crossing her arms at her chest. Without having to look for too long, he knows this confident girl that came to pick him up at the harbour must be associated with the Liyue Qixing from the elegant air that she carries.
“Yes, I heard you.” Childe responds. The corner of his lip turns upward again when she rolls her eyes openly at him before turning her face away. Never in his life had he seen someone so openly irritated at him. This girl did not care the slightest that she was in the presence of one of Snezhnaya’s ruthless fighters, let alone foreign royalty.
“We’re leaving for the palace now. Follow me.” she says quickly before turning on her heels and walking away. She seemed to be in a rush to leave Childe behind, but her plan did not go about the way she planned as Childe has longer legs. He took a few big strides and caught up to her walking pace, which seemed to irritate her further. Either way, it was not hard to keep up with her.
He glanced down at his walking partner, seeing her bite her lip and her gloved hands are little balls at her sides as she walked made him chuckle.
“I hope you know I already don’t like you.” She says as she turns on her heel to open the door to the carriage. While different from Snezhnaya carriages that were fully covered and the cushioning surrounded by velvet to keep the warm, he found it cute how Liyue carriages were open, fancy carvings on the wood let air through the carriage. He traced the red wood, admiring it for a bit too long before the girl behind him made noise.
“Just get in already!” He laughed again when he climbed into the carriage, tears brimming his eyes from the way his stomach hurt.
“You’ve amused me like no other. What is your name, young lady?” Childe smiled bright and wide, feeling actual excitement of having someone openly hate him. He reached out to shake her hand, while his other hand wiped away the stray tear at the corner of his eye.
The girl huffed, her cheeks turning pink from either the humid air or his constant teasing. Her gloved hand grabbed his own.
“Keqing.”
-
“Good morning Taru…” He sat up from his canopy bed decorated with gorgeous red and gold silks stretching his arms over his head.
His room was heavily decorated in exquisite furnishings such as porcelain vases detailed in gold and little statues of long dragons with clouds surrounding them made of marble would decorate the tables. Soft and expensive furs and fabrics draped on his bed. A single round window made of wood with intricate circle and square motive carvings framed all four sides of the window placed just a little further from the door that led out onto his huge balcony beside his bedroom.
“Good morning Qiqi!” Childe smiled at his attendant. He holds his hand out, waiting for Qiqi to give him the item that she was holding. He felt his heart melt when the little girl approached him at his bed and shyly placed a small purple flower in his palm. Childe pauses to look at the delicate plant in his hands.
“What is this?” He asks curiously. The small flower looked a little rough around its edges, but he can tell from the way Qiqi protectively held it before passing it to him that she tried her very best to be gentle.
“Violetgrass…” She fiddles with the hem of her dress, swaying her body from left to right waiting for him to accept the present she had given him.
“I love it. Thank you Qiqi.” He gently sets the violetgrass by his side before he carefully moves out of bed. He kneels in front of her to hug the smaller girl, which she happily hugs back. He feels her little hands grab the back of his silk pajamas, not being able to fully circle around him just yet.
“Let’s start the day, shall we?” Childe pulls away gently from the hug. Qiqi nods in agreement before she leaves him to find the ladies that will prepare his clothing and accessories for the day. As several sets of hands roam his body, brushing his hair and tying robes onto his clothing, another lady reads aloud the schedule that has been fixed for him by Keqing. He shuts his eyes, feeling his head tilt in one direction as a maid brushes his untamable hair. He can feel her frustration as she brushes before deciding it would be best to place little decorative pins in the shape of beautiful flowers into his hair to compensate for the mess underneath. She clips small flowers into the curls of his hair, twisting as they were little branches for the acrylic flowers to sit upon.
The first three days of Childe’s life in the Liyue Palace were very similar, a blur . Qiqi’s presence was the only consistent thing that happened during his time at the palace. Every morning when Qiqi wakes him up, she would bring something small and interesting she thinks that he would like.
The Qixing (Keqing, specifically) had presented him with Qiqi as his personal attendant while he stayed in the palace. He had discovered through the smaller girl that she works part time for Baizhu, picking herbs for hours on end occasionally never coming back to the palace for three days. But since she now waits on the foreign prince, her herb picking hours have been reduced from twilight till the sun broke through the clouds the next morning.
“Don’t you need sleep?” He asks the first day he met her. She was such a small and young girl, how could anyone make her work her bones off from dusk till dawn. Keqing stands further back from them, letting them introduce themselves before she has to haul him elsewhere.
“Qiqi is okay. Adepti are okay.” Childe didn’t know what that meant and he believed her, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a little guilty. Small kids should be getting proper rest and not scaling the side of dangerous cliffs for herbs that the doctor was capable of getting for himself.
He didn’t think that he had to make a complete 180 change from the last time he was in Liyue. Ever since Childe stepped foot on that harbour three days ago, he hadn’t touched his belongings he brought with him from Snezhnaya. He hadn’t worn any of the clothes he brought, as the attendants would dress him in Liyue’s traditional clothes specifically made for Liutian omegas.
-
“Why do I have to wear a dress?” Childe asks as he looks himself in the mirror, the silks and cotton flowy against his skin. The light blue robes detailed in a darker shade of navy blue and gold stitching complimented his eye colour. Several attendants were surrounding him, taking his measurements not missing out a single inch of his body as Keqing stood before him. She monitored the way the ladies moved gracefully about him as if they were in a dance, fleeting touches not more than 2 seconds, a stretch of tape here and there, a little tug of his clothes once in a while before the touches leave him. He watches the redhead in the mirror through the floor to ceiling mirror, the one that looked like him but he could not recognise from the gorgeous silks and cottons that decorated his imposter.
“All omegas, especially those from noble lines wear hanfus.” Keqing explains as she pulls the skirt down. Golden accessories such as clips and small delicate chains started to decorate his hair, neck and ears, Keqing was presented with different silks by the same attendants. He doesn’t say anything when she holds it up against his face, before giving the fabric back and nodding in approval.
“Plus, it’s pretty. Alphas love pretty omegas.” A beautiful woman walks in wearing her own white and golden hanfu, carrying herself like she was a goddess walking amongst men. The way her skirt flowed as she walked towards the two, the slim and elegant smile on her lips as she walked over to them. She gave a little twirl, her gorgeous skirt flaring out like a dream of silk and cotton as she arrived before the foreign prince and blushing noble.
“Don’t you agree?” She asks, leaning a little towards Keqing. Keqing took a step back, face colouring as she looked away in embarrassment. Childe watched as the omega teased the purple haired alpha by inching closer as the other backed away. Gorgeous amber eyes gleaming with mirth, her smile hidden behind her paper fan as she basically teased the alpha. She carries a similar paper fan in her hand, wearing a similarly fashioned hanfu and yet, they couldn’t be any more different.
“Yes. You are very pretty.” her voice barely an audible gasp could be heard, but it was a sufficient response for the fair lady.
From the way her presence alone can suffocate a room, begging its attention to be turned to her and the way comfortably glides around the palace. It was safe to assume that this was the emperor's regina.
“I am Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing. It’s nice to meet you.” She gives a little bow of respect that Childe awkwardly returns back. Those titles that came after her name did not hold any meaning to Childe as he didn’t understand what that meant, it was possible he would forget after this meeting.
“You look pretty as well. I think this colour suits you wonderfully.” Ningguang says as she pulls lightly on the baby blue fabric the attendants had put around his arms not for any particular purpose other than decoration, but Childe being who he is naturally assumed he could turn it into a weapon and strangle someone with it if he was given the chance.
‘No, that’s a bad Ajax.’ He thought to himself. ‘No thinking about strangling.’ The voice in his head speaks in a firm tone as if he were speaking to a naughty child. His face sulks a little. When the attendants pulled away after what felt like hours, he was greeted with a sight he had never seen before. He was dressed in beautiful silks and cottons that could give him the illusion of being beautiful.
The style of hanfu was very similar to the long flowing one Ningguang wore, except the colours of his hanfu were softer in comparison to the dramatic whites, bright reds and golds the other omega wore. He didn’t catch himself in time, accidentally openly gawking at how well the attendants had dressed him. When he caught himself and shut his mouth, his eyes met with the Tianquan. She smiled at him, looking genuinely excited that he looked decent in those clothes. He can’t help but feel out of place. The attendants presented a variety of earrings carefully placed on a tray to Ningguang. She hums and carefully picks up one that she thinks would suit Childe best. A single red gem hanging from slim golden chains, smaller red flowers littering the chain in delicate placements.
“Why do you not wear your pheromones?” She asks as she assists Childe by putting on the earring. “You seem to have many scent blockers upon your neck.” She reaches for them, but with Childe’s fast reflexes, he’s immediately off the chair and covering the back of his neck with his hand. He leans against the vanity, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he feels and tries to steel his rapidly beating heart.
Ningguang blinked.
She didn’t even see him move.
“The Tsaritsa said not to take them off.” He says quickly followed by a forced laugh and smile, hoping that she would not press any further concerning the three scent blockers covering every inch of the scent glands on his neck, preventing any pheromones from accidentally leaking.
She was silent, hands still in the air from where she was holding Childe’s other earring.
“Alright.” Ningguang put the other earring down on the tray that the attendant held. “I suppose she would only want you to take them off during your heat.”
Childe nervously laughs and agrees with her.
-
Presented with portions more than Childe had ever seen, he had been eating a lot of food since he arrived at the palace compared to his home life in Snezhnaya. Childe had never been one to eat for pleasure, as he was the type of prince who found pleasure in pain and fighting, challenges and battle scars.
If Childe was to eat any more food, he felt as if his stomach would simply burst open and a flow of various ingredients would stream from it. But being the kind prince he is, he smiles and opens his mouth, consuming the food that was given to him.
It was an unusual sight for sure. He sat amongst the chefs at their designated dining table in the kitchen of the palace. Their sturdy wooden table plated at least three different kinds of chicken meals featuring different parts, cooked several different ways. He was seated on their wooden bench that could fit five people per side and ate from delicate porcelain wares and golden spoons and forks.
‘Why so spicy?’ Childe holds in the scream he wants to let out, his cheeks glowing a peachy red hue as he chews slowly, the burning sensation in his mouth moving further down his throat as he swallows. He can’t be anything less than regal as a foreign prince, carrying his image by sitting upright with his elbows off the table, but in that moment he feels helpless to the spice. His mouth opened slightly, pink lips huffing out hot air attempting to ventilate the scorching sensation.
“ He’s so thin. Xiangling is there anything else to eat?” A woman much older than him sat to his right, watching him as he steadily ate the steamed chicken dish in front of him cooked with chilies, thinly sliced gingers, and soft wolfberries. A man to his left took away his bowl of rice when he brought the spoon of chicken and rice to his mouth, filling the bowl with more soft fluffy rice before setting it back down before him.
“ I can make chicken feet with dark sauce! ” A young girl says as she rushes around the large kitchen holding a cleaver in her hand. The other chefs laugh fondly when ingredients start flying about the kitchen, some entering pots and nearly missing the pans. The cheery girl hums an upbeat tune while the cleaver cuts fast against the wooden board.
“ His face is red! ” One chef says to another.
“ Youths are so cute. ” The woman decides to fondly pinch his cheek, making him turn to her, rosy blush dusting his face. Childe couldn’t concentrate on the actions of the chefs in the kitchen, too busy blinking away the tears that stinged his eyes from the intensity of the chili.
“ Should eat more though. Get fatter and bear healthy kids.” The same woman wraps her hand around Childe’s slim wrist, seeing how she could easily wrap her thumb and index finger around it.
He exhaled a breath through his slightly parted mouth, the heat never leaving him. While his eyes were clenched closed, the young girl dropped a large bowl of soup beside the spicy chicken he had yet to clean off his plate.
“Eat up!” She says in a language he could understand since he had arrived in this kitchen an hour ago and beams a bright smile at him. He weakly smiles back with as much politeness he could muster in that moment, knowing he couldn’t get out of the situation he was currently in.
-
The end of Childe’s three busy days had been the most exhilarating despite the slow start. From the moment he woke up, the ladies had brushed his hair and dressed him per usual but this time under the watchful eye of the tiny purple haired Qixing. When he was dressed, she extended her hand towards him accompanied by her sharp glare. He didn’t think much of the gesture, placing his hand on top of hers before the alpha escorted the two of them through the maze of open aired hallways leading to the emperor’s palace in silence.
“Stand here and don’t move. Don’t go anywhere.” Keqing said when they had reached the altar, removing her hand from under his. He took a look at her and nodded in understanding. She nodded back, turning away to take a seat just behind him. From the sound of a drag of the chair against the floor, he can tell she pulled a seat closer to her own in that moment he wasn’t looking.
He had stood before the entire Liyue Qixing, seven heads of noble lines seated behind him as he stood what looked like an altar, listening to a man speaking in pure liyuan before him. From the dramatic gestures to his loud booming voice that echoed the hall, he could guess the man was a preacher of some sort. Occasionally he would jolt awake from the way the preacher’s voice would boom.
“ In the consort’s next heat, may the archons bless that an adepti child be born. ” Childe’s polite smile is beginning to fade into a more awkward and strained one. He feels like he had been standing there for ages from the way his back began to hurt from how straight he stood, combined with the heavy weight of the seven pairs of eyes staring holes into his back.
“ The emperor. ” The loud man gestured to the large double door he had entered through, but all Childe could do was stare in confusion. The man spoke such pure liyuan it was difficult for him (someone who only ever heard informal liyuan from his one year stay) it was as if he was trying to process the thick accent along with the pure pronunciations. He tried to interpret the preacher's words with the minimum amount of liyuan he learned during his one year post at Liyue Harbour when he was 21.
‘It’s too fluent.’ Childe furrows his brows in frustration. ‘I don’t understand.’ While he was trying to deconstruct the words the preacher was saying so he could get a hold of what he was on about, he failed to notice two pairs of footsteps that entered the room. One pair had stopped walking just behind him while the other walked up beside him.
“ Two worlds will collide in a united front, to unite two countries, two perspectives, two worlds. ” The preacher made a particularly big gesture before intertwining his fingers together and locking them.
‘Honestly, I should have thought about getting a tutor 3 years ago.’ He tried his best not to show such a confused expression, but failed when he heard a chuckle beside him.
“He said ‘two worlds colliding in a united front’.”
“Ah, thank you.” Childe turned his head to thank the figure beside him before looking away in fear of getting scolded by Keqing, and looking back because fuck getting scolded by Keqing.
‘This man is so handsome !’ Childe practically screamed in his mind, so loud that he was afraid the other man could hear him. He was scared the whole hallway could possibly hear him from how loud his thought was. He didn’t care that he was openly staring with eyes as large as dinner plates at this point.
The prince was suddenly very aware of the taller man standing beside him on the altar.
‘He’s taller than me. No one is ever taller than me.’ Childe snuck another sideways glance, trying to hold back the embarrassment from showing on his face. He clearly was embarrassed, he himself knew it and is accepting of the fact. He tried to steady his breathing when he felt his heart hammer at his chest. He did not prepare himself for the possibility of the emperor being (hot) his type.
‘His jawline is so sharp. He’s so tall. Is it because he’s an alpha? He’s got such pretty eyes.’ Childe’s mind was busy collecting as much information as he could get from simply looking at the emperor, he didn’t realise something slipped from his mouth.
“Pardon?” He turns his head to fully look at Childe, watching as the prince’s fair cheeks bloom a bright red when he realizes some thoughts may have slipped out as real words.
“My apologies, it’s nothing.”
Throughout the ceremony, Childe kept sneaking glances at him. Well, he couldn’t help himself no matter how disciplined he was. This man was so much eye candy he had to openly stare. When the other man noticed him staring and when he caught his eyes, Childe whipped his head to look away.
“Are you nervous?” he hears a soft voice beside him. He looks up to see him glancing with a gentle expression. Childe felt himself blush. The emperor is so handsome, you would never believe he was 40 years old.
“Yes, a little. I can’t really understand what he’s saying.” Childe admits truthfully before he felt him blush rise to his ears. Why did he admit that? Was his face really able to let down his guard?
The emperor chuckles a little before he smiles and looks forward at the officiater. “We’ll get you a tutor. It is an easy language to grasp once you figured out the basics.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not a problem.” He smiled.
‘Fangs!’ Childe’s mind shouted in glee when he saw the sharp teeth but his face kept a calm appearance. He realises he’s been too jumpy during the ceremony and not concentrating at all. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. ‘Of course the man has fangs, he’s an alpha.’ He nods, thinking logically and completely missing the side glance followed by a fleeting smirk the other man gave him.
The preacher hands Childe and the emperor a small cup each filled with fragrant rice wine.
‘Do I drink this?’ He looks at the clear liquid in the goblet before looking up at Zhongli, meeting his eyes for the first time in the hour they had been standing beside each other. Zhongli’s eyes never tear away from him as he slowly puts his own cup to his lips, waiting for him to do the same.
Luckily Childe catches on and drinks the wine, Zhongli doing the same.
-
“ Congratulations on getting married. ” Ningguang says in pure liyuan dialect, bowing at Childe and the emperor. Her voice carried a smoother tone when she spoke in liyuan compared to when she spoke to Childe a few days ago. He snuck another glance at Zhongli without fully turning his head, trying not to seem too interested in the man.
‘Well, if he hears my thoughts I’d be doomed.’ Childe fully regained his composure after being let go by the preacher, some of the Qixing nobles leaving the hall as soon as it was done with the exception of Ningguang and Keqing, who stood further back towards the door waiting for them to finish their conversation with the emperor. He stood beside the emperor, waiting for him to finish his exchange with his regina before introducing himself, but while that was happening he was running through his mind figuring out how to make a good first impression.
“ Be quiet. ” He says, but the smile that graced his face when he faced her was gentle, yet it held some mirth. The smiles they exchanged held deeper meaning, as if it holds years of bonding that could not be overwritten by the involvement of a second love. Childe feels envious somehow.
Zhongli fully turns to him, with that handsome smile still on his face and Childe finds himself being entranced. He could finally get a good look at the well dressed man who wore layers upon layers from his dress shirt to his vest and his outer coat, this man was covered from head to toe leaving not an inch of skin exposed for imagination to run wild.
“Childe, this is Zhongli.” Ningguang introduces them before Zhongli could open his mouth to speak. “Call him xiansheng.” Zhongli turned to her with disbelief on his face while she giggled mischievously behind her gloved hand.
“You don’t have to call me - “
“Xiansheng?” He feels shy when he attempts to copy Ningguang’s pronunciation. He was rewarded with a thumbs up from the fair lady, but he noticed Zhongli take a step back from him.
“That is good pronunciation, Childe.” Zhongli says.
“My real name is Ajax.” He blurts out, feeling his cheeks get hot from how well this man could play him without having to do anything. He hasn’t actually said his original name for years, not since he had been adopted by the Tsaritsa. He felt as if he could have gone a lifetime without hearing that name again.
“Ajax.” And yet, he wants to hear his name on this man's lips more, drink it up like it was wine and honey. The smile that comes after the syllables of his name were addictive. He feels high, overwhelmed even, as if he had not been breathing oxygen up until he hears his name uttered from this man's lips.
If he could look at that smile for the rest of his life.
“There’s plenty of time for you both to get to know each other,” Ningguang says, but the holes that Keqing had been staring into her head had increased in intensity since earlier. “But not right now.” She smiles, a little nervous about the purple haired noble that was clicking the heel of her shoe against the carpeted floor.
Unfortunately, Ningguang went unheard by the two males. Zhongli looks at Childe like he is the only person in the hall, and Childe looks at him like he was the only person in the universe as they spoke, low and quiet unwanting others to hear their meek conversation.
“Are you really 40 years old?”
“No, that might be an exaggeration.”
“I knew my siblings were joking - “ “I’m 57.”
Childe blinked, his hand moving away from his mouth, to look at the emperor with disbelief. He shook his head, feeling whiplash from the information. The corners of the emperor's lips quirk upwards, amused as he watches the ginger process the information.
“You’re older than the Tsaritsa.”
“Indeed. I’ve known her for a very long time, we are good friends.”
“Ahem.” A loud noise was made, finally attracting the attention of the prince and the emperor. They turned to look at the smaller girl, her fist at her mouth before she crossed her arms. Ningguang stood a little behind her, averting her gaze. She did try to warn them, they couldn’t blame her for their scolding.
“Childe has to meet his tutor and Lady Ningguang and I have a meeting to tend to.” Keqing says bluntly. It seems her clear dislike was not hidden from anyone, not even with the exception of the emperor.
“Oh? I thought we were going on a date?” Ningguang piped up, making the purple haired girl go red in the face, but keeping her usual stoic demeanor. Keqing had her hands balled up in fists when the lady teased her, but couldn’t deny that it had embarrassed her in a good way. Zhongli raised a curious brow at his Qixing before nodding.
“I understand. You may go.” He says to Keqing and Ningguang. They both bow at their direction, before taking off. Childe was in the midst of turning away to follow them but was stopped by a gentle touch of a hand on his wrist. The touch was so gentle, it made his heart flutter. He looked at the gloved hand that caught him, before looking up at the emperor’s face.
“Xiansheng?” He says curiously. Zhongli hesitates, so the both of them were simply studying each other's faces. He looked like he had a lot to say to him, his mouth opening slightly before closing, and opening again and biting his lower lip.
“Till we meet again.” He finally says. Zhongli looked the way that Childe felt, shy. Childe couldn’t suppress the twinkle in his eyes and the smile that crept upon his face.
“Till next time, xiansheng.”
-
“In Liyue customs, an empress is bred from young, training from a youth until a young adult to be able to take the responsibilities that come with being the empress. Among these responsibilities are overseeing the imperial charity, funding for - '' The words blur and jumble into a ball of sounds as Childe stares at the pen and blank paper in front of him.
Why did he have to learn about the empress anyway? Couldn’t he skip to the parts that he didn’t need to learn since he was a meer concubine to the emperor? He twirls the fountain pen between his fingers, careful to not fling ink out and spray it all over the parchment.
“Childe, are you listening?” He looks up at his tutor. The blue haired boy much much younger than him is sitting at the end of his desk with a thick book placed on his lap.
“Yes, Xingqiu, I’m listening.”
“Good. How many years must an empress candidate undergo training before she can become the official regina?” He places his elbow on his knee, leaning his head on his hands as he watches the foreign prince in amusement. The prince clearly hadn’t been listening to him, instead choosing to spend his time concentrating on not spilling the ink from his pen as he twirled it between his fingers like a baton.
“Sixteen years.” Childe answers effortlessly, avoiding eye contact with his smug tutor. Xingqiu’s head lifted from his hand, a little shocked that the prince actually was paying attention to him.
“Good. We can move on to the inner workings of the emperors palace and its hierarchy.” He clasps the book shut with both hands, placing it onto the ever growing pile behind him before picking up another heavy volume with gold engravings on the spine. The red head looked at the book before his gaze trailed up to his teachers face. There is no way this boy was older than sixteen, and yet he’s sitting on the corner of his desk acting like his boss. According to Keqing who assigned Xingqiu as his tutor, the boy comes from a long line of nobles that had been famed to teach Liyue etiquette to both the descendants of emperors and empresses.
“A summary of the hierarchy would be Emperor Zhongli of course, followed by his son Xiao - “
“His son?” Childe asks, curiosity getting the best of him. ‘I didn’t know Zhongli was married.’ He put a finger to his chin and leaned back into his chair, hiding his troubled expression behind his hand.
“Yes, the sole prince of Liyue and only son of the emperor, Xiao. He is twenty this year, but isn’t taking the throne.” the blue haired boy shrugs as if the information was not anything special before flipping to another page of the thick book. Childe still lost in thought was thinking about the possibilities of Zhongli’s wife and himself having a child together, but still allowing the emperor to take a concubine for the sake of his country.
“He’s the current head of the Liutian army.” His tutor realises that he was no longer paying attention and raises a brow. He figures the prince must have some troubling thoughts to forgo listening to him altogether.
“He’s adopted.” Xingqiu says. He wants to burst out laughing when the information clearly did not reach Childe’s ears, but chooses to muffle his giggle behind his hand. He watches the prince's furrowed brows and smiles gently. Might as well continue reading from the book if the prince was not going to pay attention to his detailed explanations. “After the prince would be the eight heads of the Liyue Qixing starting with the Tianquan, who oversees the law and governance.” Xingqiu continues, the sun setting through the window behind him colouring the room in an orange hue.
- ‘The emperor has a son, which means he has a wife’ was the one thing Childe really took away from his first tutoring lesson with the young noble. He lies down on his bed staring at the ceiling above him, feeling the air gently blow through his open window surrounding him in comforting cold winds. It felt nowhere near as cold as Snezhnaya, but it would have to do for the night. The prince tended to do his thinking in the dead of night while the wind rustled through his fluffy hair.
‘The previous Tsar before mother had over eight omegas as concubines, but mother has never taken a husband.’ He thought, rolling onto his side and propping his head up onto his arm. Through his window, he could see the gorgeous garden filled with trees and white stone walls that sat between the emperor's palace and the palace he currently resides in. Deciding to get off his bed, he walked over to the window letting his long robes drag across the floor, tucking the long fabric under his legs while he situated himself on the bench beside the window.
‘Maybe mom is right? Would I actually have to work hard to impress the emperor?’ He furrows his brow in thought which he found himself doing very often since he had arrived at the palace. Childe thought himself to be the adaptable type, able to mold himself into any situation and conquer the harshest of conditions.
And yet, being treated like a soft and gentle omega was the strangest thing he had ever experienced in his lifetime.
‘Are soft and gentle someone Zhongli likes?’ Childe gets off his bench to walk over to the floor to ceiling mirror in the corner of his room. He looks at himself in the mirror with the robes wrapped tightly around his waist, and yet it was still loose enough to slip off slightly. He wasn’t very much the image of an ‘omega’, having more sharp angles than soft curves, and he is tall nearly the same height as the emperor. Overall in comparison to other omegas he had seen around the palace they had been the exact opposite of him.
Small, soft types with curves and usually very pretty with large doe eyes.
‘I’m more handsome than pretty.’ Childe thinks as he grabs his hip bones with both hands. ‘Sharp.’ He continues to pat his body, feeling the toned muscle and bone on him from years of working for the Tsaritsa. His hands trail to his toned stomach and rubs it in circles with the palm of his hand. He had always thought the best feature of his Harbinger uniform was that it had normally exposed his stomach, which was a part of him that he was proud of. It was sexy to say the least and it aided him agility wise on the battlefield, but now he wasn’t sure. Were omegas supposed to expose themselves like that?
‘I could make the effort. Zhongli is kinda handsome, I guess.’ He rolls his eyes, as if he had now been openly gawking the first time he met the emperor. ‘And helping the Tsaritsa is my priority.’
“Damn, I’ve never been this body conscious in my life.” He walks away from the mirror, but turns to look back at himself, eyes directly dropping to the shape of his ass in the mirror. He laughs a little pathetically before running a hand through his hair.
“This guy doesn’t know me, so it wouldn’t be too hard to hide the fact I was practically a tyrant back home!” With full confidence, he turned to face the mirror and crossed his arms, beaming at his prettier doppelganger in the mirror. He met his eyes, smile falling a little. Who was he kidding, he felt so out of place.
“Right?”
#zhongchi#genshin impact childe#genshin impact zhongli#childe is such a simp#childe#zhongli#tartaglia
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Hjarta | Chapter 18
Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.
Point of view: third-person
Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor
This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter
THE NEXT MORNING
SIGURD’S CHAMBERS
Eivor pried his eyes open to a slit, immediately squinting in the sunlight that hit his face.
His fingers twitched with movement as his body returned to a state of consciousness, and his dreams vacated the stage that once sat in his mind. A subtle itch tickled the surface of his skin due to the strands of hair that dangled in front of his nose, and out of the corner of his eye, Eivor could see lingering smoke trailing from the dead embers of a torch once set aflame.
It was a calm morning, despite the mournful nature of the clan. A light breeze traveled swiftly throughout the empty halls of the longhouse, and distant chatter could be heard from the villagers who had already risen. It was the start of an ordinary day, and yet, Eivor had no motivation to see it through.
He just couldn’t stop thinking about Thora and Ulfar.
Even though he managed to distract himself for a while with Sigurd’s company, the pain was inevitably sinking back in, and it felt as if a boulder had planted itself on top of his chest.
There was no way to fill the new absence stalking his every move; no way he could ever see Thora or Ulfar again. Both of them were gone, and he had been left behind. He was stuck in this realm with nothing but the memories of those he had lost, and the only thing that could help him was the hope of putting Kjotve down for good.
Thankfully, Eivor wasn’t completely alone just yet.
Resting gently over his hip, the young man felt the weight of Sigurd’s arm pressing down on him like a protective shield, holding him close in a world that was constantly trying to separate them. His breath kissed the back of Eivor’s neck at a steady pace, and a soothing warmth surrounded their bodies due to the blankets barricading them from the cold.
It was surprising to see that Sigurd hadn’t taken his leave, Eivor thought. Part of him had been expecting the prince to vanish like he did on the day of the wedding, and yet, he was here, keeping him company without any worry of judgement. His mind remained buried under dreams of war and mayhem, and his eyelids fluttered with the vivid images that flashed in his head.
He looked to be at peace, despite the turmoil brewing inside him. His expression was devoid of any usual disturbances, and Eivor’s comforting presence only helped to bring him more solace.
In addition to the relief Eivor felt upon seeing Sigurd however, the young man also couldn’t ignore the guilt he carried for taking the prince away from Randvi.
Gods only knew what that woman was going through right now. In a single day, she had lost both her blood-sister and father figure -- and unlike Eivor -- she had to deal with the pain alone.
She didn’t have anyone in her chambers to provide her with company or a shoulder to lean on, and Eivor began to wonder if he should’ve been ashamed of himself for robbing her of that.
Perhaps it was a mistake to stay with Sigurd for the night. Perhaps he should’ve simply gone to the temple like he planned, and left the prince to his own devices. Maybe then, Randvi wouldn’t be forced to endure all this grief alone. Eivor may have cherished every moment he spent with Sigurd, but he didn’t wish to do it at the expense of his sister’s well-being.
It was Randvi that Sigurd was supposed to be with, after all. And Eivor couldn’t help but question the morality of what he was doing.
“...Eivor...?” The older man suddenly murmured, causing the Wolf-Kissed to glance over his shoulder.
He came face-to-face with a pair of heavy-lidded eyes, and smiled faintly upon hearing the man’s words.
“Good morning, love.” Eivor said, rolling onto his side. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
Sigurd chuckled, though it came out more like a grunt due to the sleep that still fogged his mind.
“...You didn’t wake me up. Truth is, I barely slept. My dreams were plagued with nothing but nightmares. I hope you had a better night.”
“I’d be lying if I said I did. All I could think about was Thora and Ulfar. About how they died.”
“I know what you mean. I can’t stop thinking about Dag either. It’s been hours since he first went silent, and yet... his final words refuse to leave me. It’s like he’s still here, berating me for everything I’ve done. Every time I close my eyes, my dreams take me back to the Tears of Ymir. Part of me feels as if I never left.”
Eivor snuggled up in Sigurd’s embrace, bringing himself closer to the other man.
“...We will get through this, love.” He reassured. “I know it wasn’t easy, but you gave us a chance at victory when you slew the traitor. Now, Kjotve has no allies within our walls. He’s completely by himself. And we have his son as a prisoner. We still have hope of winning this war... and it’s thanks to you.”
Sigurd raised a hand to Eivor’s cheek, gently caressing it with the back of his knuckles.
“I hope you’re right. The last thing I want is for all our sacrifices to be in vain. We can’t accept defeat now. Not when we’re so close.” The prince sat up from the bed, causing his hair to slip from his shoulders. “But for now, let’s simply focus on honoring our dead. There are many farewells that need to be said before we take things further with Gorm, and I’d like to see Dag off on his journey to Hel. He may have been a traitor, but even he doesn’t deserve abandonment in death.”
Eivor’s mood soured at the mention of Dag’s name. In spite of his agreement to granting the man a place at the funeral, he couldn’t help but feel contempt for him after everything he and Gorm did to Thora.
“Do you think Dag would’ve done the same for you?” Eivor questioned.
Sigurd hesitated, not failing to notice the sharpness in his tone.
“I... I honestly don’t know. Did he even love me in the end? Or did he view me as an enemy? A foe that he needed to eliminate?” The prince combed a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “I’d like to believe that he would stand by my grave in death, but in reality, I suspect he would’ve been the one to send me there.”
Sigurd rose from the bed and reached for his shirt, shaking his head in sorrow. “Gods... how did things go so wrong...?”
He pulled the piece of clothing over his torso, preparing to take his leave.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get dressed. I imagine my father will be awake by now, and I’d like to have a few words with him before we depart. Meet me outside when you’re ready to go. We can walk to the funeral together.”
The younger man followed suit and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, dreading the near-future. He didn’t want to attend the ceremony alone, but he also worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure in the presence of Thora and Ulfar.
“...Alright.” He said plainly. “I’ll find you when I’m ready, Sigurd.”
The prince leaned down and placed a kiss on Eivor’s forehead, bidding him farewell.
“Take care, Eivor. I’ll see you soon.”
~~~~~~~~~~
ONE HOUR LATER
THE DOCKS
Walking along the edge of the ship, Ingrida’s boots quietly thudded against the wooden floor as she tended to the pyres, preparing them for their final departure. She scattered a mixture of herbs and petals at the base of the structures, whispering a series of prayers under her breath.
Her heart ached beyond words to see three of her beloved clan members sharing a ship to the gates of the afterlife. Thora, Ulfar, and Eirik all lay side-by-side in the center of the vessel, decorated with an abundance of gifts that the villagers had left for them. They had axes, shields, food, riches, armor -- every possible boon they could use in the next realm. Their bodies had also been adorned with a handful of sweet-scented flowers, and their hands had been arranged to hold the swords in their grip.
Meanwhile, Dag rested alone in a separate ship docked on the other end of the harbor. His boat had been left barren of any gifts or offerings, and the only attention he received was from scornful villagers who were irked to see his presence at the funeral. His pyre looked about as empty as the frozen sea before them, and it appeared just as cold.
Luckily, despite the animosity the clan held for Dag, Ingrida hadn’t yet forbade herself from saying a prayer for the man. Even though he was directly linked to the death of her son, she still saw it fitting to bless him with one last prayer, as well as the dignity of being sent on a proper vessel. She carried less than no love for the dishonorable traitor, but did not wish to defile his grave, lest she cause Sigurd even more pain.
“Wherever the bridge may guide you,” Ingrida whispered, walking up to Thora, “whatever obstacles you may face, know that your memory has been marked in our clan, sister. Your words, your thoughts, your actions -- they will all continue to live among us even though you have returned to the gods. Your spirit will become as natural as the trees around us, and your name will be shrouded in the honor that was robbed of you in death. May you find peace under Hel’s gaze, and may your axe never thirst for battle. You are free now.”
The woman brought her attention to Eirik, crumbling at the sight of her son.
“Oh, my son...” she murmured, “forgive me. I never thought it would end like this. I never thought it would be me who tended to your pyre. I wanted to watch you grow old. I wanted you to enjoy the life I had given you. I wanted better for--” Ingrida’s voice faltered, causing her to pause briefly, “--you deserved... better than this. You deserved happiness. I only pray that the gods will grant it to you someday, and that we will meet again when death takes us both.” She slid a hand down Eirik’s cheek. “Rest well, my son. Your struggles will not be everlasting.”
Turning to Ulfar, Ingrida cleared her throat and took a deep breath, regaining her composure for one final farewell.
“And my dear friend, Wulfgar,” she said. “I know you were fueled by hatred for many years before you came to us. I know you carried an abundance of regrets. But as the Valkyries guide you to the Hall of Valor, I hope you can find forgiveness for yourself. Even though you were not exempt of flaws, you were one of the best men I had ever the pleasure of meeting. You were a venerable husband to Linnea, and a loving father to many of the children here.”
She sighed, placing a delicate hand over the hilt of Ulfar’s sword. “I do not know whether you will meet the Christian god or be accepted into the Allfather’s arms, but either way, remember that redemption walks with you, drengr. Your faults have been amended, and your shackles have been broken. May your freedom guide you home.”
Stepping away from the pyres, Ingrida said the last of her prayers and decided to leave the bodies alone for now, admittedly somewhat overwhelmed by the grief that was starting to sink in. For days, she had been focusing on the preparations for this funeral, and yet, nothing could’ve fully braced her for the severity of their losses.
The old völva had overseen multiple burials in the past, but she had never attended one with so many familiar faces. Thora, Ulfar, Eirik -- they were all vital people in her life. She watched them grow, she watched them cry, she watched them change. A part of her soul was attached to the three of them, and now... she had to watch them leave.
It was the hardest farewell she ever had the burden of bidding, and she hoped it would be the last.
“Ingrida?”
The seeress whirled around at the sudden greeting, not realizing that she had company.
“Oh, Eivor,” she said upon seeing her guest’s face. “I didn’t notice you were there.”
The young man approached her, keeping his hands linked in a respectful manner.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” he explained. “I saw that you were saying a prayer for them.”
Ingrida glanced back at the fallen warriors’ bodies, nodding morosely.
“...Indeed. I just finished saying goodbye to Wulfgar.”
Eivor cocked a brow at that. “Wulfgar? You mean... Ulfar?”
Ironically, his question only seemed to garner more confusion from the old woman.
“He never told you?” She asked, clearly surprised.
“Told me what?”
A look of understanding spread across Ingrida’s face. “Forgive me, young cub. I assumed you knew of this already. The two of you were like father and son, so I simply thought...” she shook her head, returning to the topic. “Anyway. Tell me, did Ulfar ever reveal that he originally came from a Saxon family?”
“Yes,” Eivor recalled. “He mentioned that before.”
“Well, his name was Wulfgar before he was adopted by the Norse. He always asked me to refer to him as that in private. It may seem like an odd request, but I think it helped him preserve some semblance of who he once was.”
“I... I never knew that. Ulfar didn’t tell any of us.”
Ingrida gazed at the raider’s lifeless face, tilting her head out of empathy.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He had a dark history before he married Linnea and joined our clan. He probably didn’t want to frighten you.”
Eivor’s curiosity got the best of him. “Can you tell me what he did, exactly?”
The seeress fell silent due to hesitance. “I... don’t think I should, Eivor. I don’t believe it would be my place. If Ulfar felt the need to keep it hidden from you, then perhaps that’s because he meant to take the secret to his grave.”
A hint of disappointment sank into Eivor’s mood, but he respected the secrecy nonetheless.
“...I understand.”
Ingrida offered another possible answer. “If your curiosity is truly piqued though, I’d recommend asking your father. Arngeir is also aware of Ulfar’s past, and he was much closer to him than I. I think he would be more suited to tell the story -- if you are willing to hear it.”
“I am. I’ll ask him about it later. Thank you.”
The woman crossed her arms and took a moment to examine Eivor, suddenly switching the subject when she noticed that he was alone.
“But enough about that. Where is Sigurd?” Ingrida questioned. “I expected him to come here with you.”
The inquisitive spark in Eivor’s eyes dimmed at the observation, and he took a slow glance at the nearby longship.
“He’s paying his respects to Dag.” He said, gesturing to the traitor’s pyre. Ingrida followed his gaze, watching as Sigurd said his goodbyes.
The downhearted prince was currently kneeling in front of the wooden tomb with his head hanging low, and a hand over Dag’s wrist. His face was hidden from the world due to his crouched position, and at the moment, all Ingrida could see was a slight quiver shaking the stillness of his shoulders.
“...His eyes burned bright with the heat of Muspelheim itself...” Ingrida whispered in revelation. “Oh, that poor man. I now understand what my vision meant. I understand what it was trying to say.”
Eivor gave the woman a puzzled look, intrigued by her train of thought.
“What do you mean?”
Ingrida brought her focus back to the young man and closed the distance between them.
“The night before Sigurd arrived, the gods sent me a dream about him. Do you remember? It was just before Freya’s statue fell at the temple.”
Eivor nodded. “Yes, I remember.”
A hint of caution took hold of her tone. “...Dag’s death will only fuel the fire already raging in your prince, Wolf-Kissed. I know I advised you to stay away from Sigurd in the past, but now, I suspect you’ll be the only one capable of pulling him back from the edge. Do not allow him to get lost in the dark. He’ll be leading us into battle not too long from now. Please, do what you can to ensure that his mind stays whole.”
“Of course, Ingrida. I--” he stuttered for a second, hesitant to be completely open, “...you know how I feel about him. I’ll try my best to help him.”
That seemed to bring relief to the seeress. “Thank you, Eivor. We need both of you if we’re going to win this war. Take care of yourselves in the storm to come. We’re almost through the brunt of it.”
Bringing their conversation to an end, Ingrida placed a soft hand on Eivor’s arm and guided him away from the pyres, stepping back onto the docks as the clan gathered for the final farewell. A line of archers had already taken their position at the front of the shoreline and set their arrows aflame, preparing for the upcoming ceremony.
“Come, young cub. It’s time to say goodbye.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Standing just beyond the tide’s reach, Eivor and Sigurd watched the funeral from afar as gusts of icy wind danced throughout the village, causing their capes to billow in the breeze. Specks of snow fluttered from the muted sky hanging above them, and in the distance, Eivor could see a number of dockhands pushing the ships away from the piers.
It almost would’ve been beautiful, if it weren’t for the morbidity of their gathering. The ships glided across the glassy surface like swans in a lake, and their hulls split the sheets of ice blocking their course. Ravens soared alongside the majestic sails as if Odin himself were guiding their departure from Midgard, and within moments, the archers had already prepared their first volley of arrows.
“Aim!” One of the warriors commanded, his voice thundering across the beach. A chain of flames immediately rose into the air, pointing directly towards the clouds.
The ships ventured a bit deeper into the ocean, causing waves of white foam to spurt around them.
“Loose!”
Releasing their grip on the bows, the archers sent a storm of arrows flying into the sky as their fiery tips set the heavens aflame, painting the atmosphere with what looked like a thousand suns. Their reflections bolted across the sea like streaks of ember, and soon after, the ships were engulfed in a cloak of fire.
Little by little, the sparks spread throughout the vessels’ entire structure, igniting everything they could touch. They easily latched onto the fallen warriors who occupied the pyres, and consumed their hollow shells like webs of frost crawling across the ocean.
It was a display fit for the gods themselves. The ships wandered like a pair of beacons shattering the dark, and Eivor could only hope that the divines would accept their new arrivals with open arms. These souls had officially traveled beyond the mortal realm, and now, their threads in the tapestry of fate had been cut.
It was finally time for Eivor to let them go. The very same war that had taken these people in the first place still burned with an unbridled fury, and it wouldn’t be long before they had to confront it once and for all.
The only thing they had to do now was get Gorm to talk. His forked tongue hid behind a guise of feigned ignorance, but Eivor knew better than to believe his twisted claims.
That man knew where Kjotve was, and he knew how to lure him out of the shadows. His information was the key to winning this war, and neither the Wolf-Kissed nor the Raven Prince would back down until they got what they wanted.
It was their only chance of survival at this point, and the last obstacle blocking their way.
~~~~~~~~~~
LATER THAT DAY
THE DUNGEON
Shoving the barred door open with a firm push, Sigurd ducked under the low frame and slipped into the room, lighting the way with a torch as Eivor followed him from behind. The weathered hinges of the door squeaked sharply in the looming silence, and a soft rattle bounced off the walls as their prisoner struggled in his chains.
Gorm was completely alone down here. Not only had he been deprived of any human contact, but the tight bricks of the dungeon had also sealed out any intruding sunlight. His hands and feet had been tied down by harsh shackles, and a rough cloth had been wrapped securely around his eyes.
Despite Gorm’s recent arrival though, it looked like someone had already visited him. In the flickering glow that radiated from Sigurd’s torch, the prince spotted fresh cuts and bruises littering the prisoner’s skin. Tiny droplets of blood stained the collar of his shirt, and by now, a slick sheen of sweat had formed on the man’s bony chest.
It wouldn’t be difficult to interrogate this man, but that didn’t mean Sigurd would go easy on him.
“Heh,” he said with a chuckle, holding the torch closer to Gorm’s wounds, “looks like someone had a talk with you already. You been having company lately, Kjotvesson? Or were our men just a bit too rough when they dragged you off the longship?”
The prisoner groaned in irritation, recognizing his captor’s voice. “...Gods above. As if my first conversation wasn’t bad enough. Now you’re here too? I’m not going to talk, Sigurd. The jarl couldn’t beat it out of me, and you won’t either.”
“Ah, so it was Arngeir who did this. I should’ve guessed.” The prince paused briefly. “...You’re lucky, you know. Not many people in this world have the same level of patience as our jarl. If it was my daughter you had killed, I would have flayed you alive.”
Gorm scoffed, shifting in his seat. “You? Everyone knows you’re soft, Styrbjornson. You couldn’t even save the jarl’s daughter from being killed. What makes you think you can get me to talk? Just throw your punches and leave me alone. You won’t get anything from me.”
Sigurd knelt down, leaning towards to the man as he spoke. “...We are one step away from winning this fucking war against your father after decades of suffering because of it. This is the closest we’ve ever been to victory in years, and the only thing blocking our path right now... is you. If you think I’m going to walk away after everything we’ve sacrificed, you are sorely mistaken.”
The prince stood up from the floor. “You can either tell me Kjotve’s location, or I can make you scream it. Either way, we’re not leaving this room until you give us what we need.”
Gorm picked up on that. “We?”
Eivor stepped forward, joining Sigurd’s side. “I’m here too, Gorm.”
“Ah, the Raven Prince’s whore. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. I know you follow Sigurd around like a lost pup, always pining for his attention. Word spreads quickly, you see--”
Sigurd threw a quick jab at Gorm’s cheek, silencing the man in an instant.
“Well you won’t hear anymore about us from now on. Your ally is dead, Gorm. We found him.”
That seemed to instill a sense of alarm in the prisoner. “...Ally?”
“Yes. Dag.” Sigurd clarified. “I know he was aiding you. I know he told you about the assault on your father’s fortress. But he’s dead now. You no longer have any friends here, Kjotvesson. There’s no one who can rescue you.”
The pace of Gorm’s breath quickened at the news, and his jaw clenched in fear.
“...So. What is it you want, exactly?”
“Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said? Tell me where Kjotve is, and all this comes to an end. It’s that simple.”
Sigurd reached down, ripping Gorm’s blindfold off with a harsh tug.
“We’re running out of time...! I’m giving you one last chance to tell us the information we need, but after that--” he yanked out his axe, “--I start hacking.”
Still, the prisoner resisted. “...Y-You wouldn’t. You don’t have the stones.”
The prince smirked. “Don’t I? Let me tell you something, Gorm.” Sigurd raised the axe to the other man’s face, positioning it right underneath his chin. “Just yesterday, this axe was buried in the heart of my brother. I put it there... after he confessed his treachery.”
It didn’t take long for Gorm to put the pieces together. “...Dag was your brother?”
Sigurd nodded slowly. “Not by blood, but that didn’t mean anything to us. We were still family. We still shared a bond. In the end though... he proved to be a danger to our clan, and so, I cut him down in one strike.” His eyes narrowed in rage. “...I was willing to execute a man I had known for all my life, purely for the sake of protecting this clan. He meant the world to me, and yet, I still killed him with my own two hands. What makes you think you stand a chance?”
Gorm scooted back in his seat, plastering himself against the back of the chair in an attempt to get away from the redheaded viking.
“You’re out of your mind, Sigurd.”
“All the more reason for you to give me what I want.”
The prisoner was quiet in response, leading Sigurd to shrug in a casual manner.
“Fine. If that’s how you wish to do things...”
The prince brought the torch’s flame to his axe, heating up the edge until it was red hot.
“W-w-wait!” Gorm exclaimed. “Wait!”
“Having second thoughts, Kjotvesson?”
“I-- look, I can’t tell you!”
Sigurd removed the axe from the fire and grinned, brandishing its scorching blade to the man.
“What’ll your father do? Kill you?”
Eivor laughed lightly, undeniably amused by Gorm’s squirming. “He’ll be lucky if he’s still alive by then.” His tone hardened. “Maybe we should string him up and leave him outside. Give him the same treatment he gave to my sister.”
Gorm shot him a glare. “Oh, you’ll join her soon enough, Wolf-Kissed. Don’t think this is over. Just because you’ve survived this long doesn’t mean--”
Sigurd pressed the axe down on his arm, causing the man to let out an anguished shout.
“Shit!” Gorm yelled, jolting violently in his restraints. The prince removed the blade after a moment and stepped back, leaving a prominent burn on the surface of his skin.
“If you’re done barking, I’d like to hear what we came for.”
“...You’ve lost your mind, Sigurd...!” The prisoner panted out, still dazed from the pain. “I’ll kill you for this. You and your whole clan!”
The redheaded man grabbed him by the collar, yanking him closer to his face.
“Tell me where Kjotve is! Now. Unless you want me to start slicing.”
Gorm turned away from Sigurd, doing his best to avoid eye contact with him.
“I... can’t!”
“Well, you will. I don’t care what kind of threats your father has made. You will tell us what we need to know, one way or another.”
The prisoner hesitated. “But why should I? You’ll kill me anyway! I’m as good as dead no matter what I do. I may as well keep silent.”
“Because your fate has yet to be determined. Cooperate with us, and perhaps I can grant you a faster death. But if you resist, I’ll have no choice but to keep this going. So save us both the trouble, and just tell me where Kjotve is.”
Gorm trailed off into silence once again, reconsidering his approach. He still appeared reluctant to comply with Sigurd’s demands, but his eyes flicked around the room in a way that made it clear he was slowly changing his mind.
“You... you promise you’ll give me a swift death if I tell you how to find my father? Is that what you’re saying?”
Sigurd looked directly into Gorm’s gaze, taking on a more sincere tone.
“...You have my word.”
The prisoner took the answer to heart and cursed quietly under his breath, frustrated at the dilemma that had been presented to him. He knew he was dead regardless of how the future unfolded, but he wondered if there was a chance he could find mercy in the hands of a proper executioner.
“...Damn it all.” Gorm finally said. “Fine. I’ll... I’ll tell you what you want to know. But you must keep your word.”
Sigurd waited patiently for a response. “Well? Where is he?”
The other man’s head drooped in shame. “...My father is sailing west. To England.”
That took the prince by surprise. “England? What in Hel’s name is Kjotve doing all the way out there?”
“He has allies in that country,” Gorm explained. “And they’re more than just simple raiders. His allies in England are part of something far bigger than you could ever anticipate. They will destroy you if he manages to rally them in time.”
Eivor crossed his arms in thought, suddenly feeling less confident. “...Shit. He must be miles ahead of us by now.”
“Actually, he could still be within your reach. I don’t think my father has officially embarked just yet. He mentioned stopping by an island along the way; to gather food and supplies before making the journey. You could still catch him.”
Sigurd stepped away from Gorm. “Then we need to leave immediately. We can’t allow Kjotve to sail into Saxon waters. If he makes it there, we’ll have lost him for good. There’s no way we could hunt him down in English territory without sparking another war.”
Eivor brought up another subject, slowing the prince down before he could get too far ahead of himself.
“Wait, what do we do about him?” He asked, gesturing to Gorm with a jerk of the head.
Sigurd eyed the prisoner up and down, contemplating how to dispose of the man. When he first set foot in the dungeon, he had originally planned to finish Gorm off with an axe to the chest -- similar to the method he used for Dag -- but now, he was having second thoughts.
“...We’ll let my father decide.” He settled with.
Eivor had to admit, he wasn’t expecting that. “Your father?”
Sigurd took a calming breath, thinking back to his conversation with his lover earlier that day. “He’s right about me, Eivor. I’m too impulsive. If I’m going to inherit the crown someday, I must learn to wield more restraint. Gorm murdered someone from our kingdom, so my father will determine his fate in a trial. Seems only fitting, seeing as how he’s the king.”
The younger man was pleased to see that the prince had taken his advice so seriously.
“A wise choice. We should inform Styrbjorn right away, then. We have no time to lose.”
Gorm jumped back in. “Wait! What if the king doesn’t allow me a quick death like we agreed?”
“I’ll explain to him the deal we made,” Sigurd assured. “My father is a man of honor, despite some of the things he does. He will understand.” He brought his attention back to Eivor, continuing their conversation. “Anyway, could you speak to Arngeir while I find my father? If we’re going to catch Kjotve on time, we’ll need everyone to be prepared. Everyone.”
“Of course. I’ll let him know of the plan.”
“Thank you.” Sigurd walked past the Wolf-Kissed, halting in his tracks to whisper something in the man’s ear. “Meet me on the hill outside the longhouse when you’re finished. There’s something I want to show you.”
Eivor nodded, whispering back to him. “I’ll be there.”
“Then I’ll see you soon, my love. But for now, let’s just focus on preparing for the upcoming battle. This war isn’t going to get any easier in the next few days, but if we’re lucky, it’ll end soon. Kjotve is hiding just beyond the horizon. We can’t let him escape.”
#hjarta#assassin's creed valhalla#ac valhalla#eivor wolfsmal#eivor wolfkissed#eivor varinsson#male eivor#sigurd styrbjornson#sigurd x male eivor#ac valhalla fanfic
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PlatonicKirkxReader
Please don't do that again...
Request from @thottiewithashotgun!
"A platonic kirk/reader, based off your Reaper/reader story, where she experiences his allergic reaction for the first time"
I really hope you like it! ❤
The planet was hot and sticky with humidity, you wrinkled your nose at it but kept silent as you and the Captain explored. You eyed your surroundings carefully as Kirk examined the native flora; you smiled at his childlike curiosity. “Careful, they might bite.” you teased and Jim looked up with a huge smile. “Nah, I’m too amazing to eat,” he said getting back to his feet brushing off the knees of his uniform pants. You rolled your eyes and looked up towards the sky; you used your hand as a sun shield. A type of alien bird chirped and squawked above you circling almost like vultures. This made you frown, looking back over to the Captain you saw that he was wandering further into the thick brush, “Jim!” you chided crossing your arms. The man in question froze and looked back at you with wide eyes, “I saw something!” he said pointing and you shook your head. “We can’t go any further unless we move the entire landing party. Spock wouldn’t be pleased,” you said in your no-nonsense tone.
Kirk huffed grumpily but moved back to where you were standing. He stared at you for a moment longer than usual, furrowing his brow in concern, “Aren’t you hot?” he asked, gesturing at her black uniform. You gave a humorless laugh, “Of course I am but I wasn’t going to traipse through an alien jungle wearing my dress.” you said looking down at your black pants and shirt. The silver Starfleet insignia glinted in the sun. After your explanation, Kirk nodded, “Yeah I can see where the dress would be a hindrance.” he said with a light chuckle. You scowled, “Sometimes they can be ridiculous,” you muttered turning toward your bag.
Kirk laughed as you rummaged through the little bag on your hip, “I can’t believe you still use that old thing.” he said eyeing the bag with fascination. “I can carry more with it,” you mumbled only paying half attention. The bag wasn’t that big but you still tended to lose things in its depths, you pulled out a few specimen jars and held them out to the waiting captain. “You’re like a mother with a purse,” he snickered taking the jars from your hands; that earned him gloves to the face. “Get the samples on that side. I’ll get some from the stream,” you said turning in the other direction. “Don’t get eaten and stay where I can see you!” you called at Kirks back. He waved an unconcerned hand, “Yes mom,” called back.
Shaking your head you kept a peripheral eye on your charge while you filled specimen jars with the water from the stream. You labeled the jars before putting them away back in the little case they came in. Pulling out your tricorder you fiddled with the controls and scanned your surrounding area; it pulled data and stored it for the science nerds to play with later. Looking over your shoulder you spot the Captain squatting by a mass of purple and orange flowers; he waved his hand over them and they seemed to follow the movement intently. The sound of footsteps made you turn away from Kirk; Commander Spock by you now. Back straight and hands clasped behind him.
You gave him a smile, “Hey Spock,” you greeted squinting against the light that glowed behind him. He inclined his head in his greeting, “I see you put the Captain to work, “ he said voice cool. Your lips twitched, you looked back over to the blonde for a moment. “Yeah I figured if I kept him busy he wouldn’t wander off,” you said with a chuckle. With a sigh, you stood up putting your tricorder away. The Vulcan in front of you held no emotion in his face but slight amusement danced in his eyes, “A logical tactic, “ he said and took the little case of vials when you offered them. “Hey, Spock did you see the flowers! I think they like me,” Kirk said jogging over to you and the Vulcan. He handed you his samples but Spock plucked them from his hand hands instead, “Captain flora hold no emotion,” the Vulcan said patiently. Jim pouted ever so slightly; he seemed to get over it rather quickly because he was smiling again, a real genuine smile. He held up a lovely teal flower, it twirled between his fingers before he put it in your hair gently, “for the best thing and only thing to come out of section 31,” he said with a wink. You gave him a small smile and ruffled his hair, “Jim, you’re the best brother I never wanted,” you said and the man clutched his heart with a grin. “(Y/N) that just warms me up inside,”
You raised an eyebrow mirroring Spock at that moment, Kirk looked between the two of you amused. “Do they teach a class on that?” he asked lightly. He let out a cough and tried to brush it off; it almost worked too if you didn’t notice the redness creeping from his hands up past his neck. “Jim?” You asked voice filled with concern, he tried to wave you off but couldn’t pull any air. He gasped and doubled over, your hands immediately steadied him and lowered him to the lilac grass. You made sure he was on his back before checking him for bites, or punctures. You picked up his hand and examined it quickly, ‘that’s the source,’ you thought with a grimace. Blisters began to form at a rapid pace. ‘Rash, blisters, asphyxia. Allergic reaction.’ you concluded. Spock knelt on Jim’s other side tense, “Jim, I need you to relax for me. You know what’s going on. Relax sweetie,” you whispered to him gently placing a hand on his forehead. “Do we have a medical kit?” you asked the Commander seriously, “It’s with Nurse Davin, she was beamed back aboard the ship with Ensign Clark. He sustained a broken ankle,” he said and you growled in frustration.
“Okay, call for beam up. I’m going to do something to help him breathe,” you said pulling out supplies. You pulled out the pen you were using earlier along with a flint; Kirk reached up a hand and gripped your forearm in a vice. You whispered encouragement to him as you pulled a knife from your boot. “Jim, I’m going to perform an old medic trick. It’s called a tracheotomy. It means I’m going to be cutting into your throat,” you said sparking the flint so it caught fire. The captain’s eyes widened making you frown guiltily. “I know it sounds horrible, but it will help you breathe,” you said running your knife over the fire. You looked him in his panicked blue eyes, “I need you to trust me,” you said evenly.
“Beaming in three minutes,” Spock said calmly from the side, you paid him little attention. Kirk choked gripping your wrist, his eyes searched yours before letting you go and doing his best to relax. You took a deep breath and moved your fingers an inch below Kirk’s Adam’s apple, you took your knife and made a small incision. You pulled your pen apart until it was just tubing and gently eased the incision open before sliding the tube in. You felt Spock at your shoulder tensed and waiting; you breathed a sigh of relief when Kirk took a shuddering breath through the tube. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, he brought a shaky hand up to grip yours. He went to speak but his voice came out as a pained squeak.
"You'll be okay, I promise." You whispered to him and felt the distinct feeling of the transporter pulling you upward. Looking around you saw Scotty looking at you and the Captain worriedly from behind the glass partition. Medical burst into the transporter room with McCoy at the forefront. "What in the hell happened?" He asked voice raised. You told him what you had done and pulled the flower from your hair, "I think this may have been the cause," you explained. Spock took the sprig from your fingers and you watched as the medical team loaded Kirk onto a stretcher and took him away. You followed with Leonard walking briskly beside you, "You did good," he mumbled and you gave him a shaky smile. "Does that happen often?" You asked looking up at him and McCoy sighed running a hand through his hair. "More than you think," he grumbled. You both entered medbay and went your separate ways. He went to take care of Kirk while you washed your bloody hands in the nearest sink.
For a solid two hours, you sat and watched as nurses and Dr. McCoy fuss around the Captain. He was breathing regularly again; the tube is gone. You were propped up against the far wall watching people come and go, "He'll be alright," a voice gruffed from next to you. You smirked and looked up to your right; John, no Leonard leaned against the wall arms crossed. "I know,"
"Spock already put a commendation in your file." He chuckled and you rolled your eyes. "Just doing my job," you sighed and he bumped your shoulder gently. You smiled gently and pushed off the wall gliding over to Kirk's bedside. "Can I borrow a Padd?" You asked McCoy with a single glance over your shoulder. His eyes hinted green in the dimmed lights of medbay; he gave you a sweet smile before disappearing into his office. You sat down on an abandoned stool next to the biobed and settled in to watch over Kirk. Nurse Chapel strode over to your side, Padd in hand, "Doctor McCoy said that he was called to the lab and that you requested this." She said kindly. You smiled taking the device, "thanks Chris,"
The woman nodded, "oh and he also told me to tell you that he expects you to meet him for breakfast in the morning. No excuses!" She said with a laugh. You chuckled and shook your head; she took another quick glance at Jim's vitals before moving on. Crossing your legs you set the Padd on your knees, logging in you resolved in working on your mission report.
Later when you felt a gentle tap on your leg. You looked up blinking the fogginess out of your eyes; Kirk gazed at you with his pretty blues. "Hey, kiddo" you murmured reaching out a hand to ruffle his hair. Jim groaned in protest but did move to stop you, "Hey lifesaver," he croaked. You set your borrowed Padd down on the bed to reach over to grab the cup of water Christine brought earlier. You held if for Kirk and guided the straw to his mouth; after a minute you took the water away.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He asked looking around with a frown. You followed his gaze and saw that medbay was now a skeleton crew. "Guess it's later than I thought," you sighed and rubbed your tired eyes. You looked back at your friend again, "You should get back to sleep," you advised picking up your Padd again. "Thank you for, you know," Jim whispered shifting, his voice rough. You took his hand giving it a soft squeeze, "no thanks are needed. Just do me a favor," you said eying him seriously. "Don't you ever do that to me again," you said with a half-hearted glare. Jim smiled lightly, "no promises but I will try." He chuckled.
"I guess that's all I can ask for." You mumbled letting him go and fixing his blanket. Jim grinned, "I'd hate to scare the big sister I've never wanted," he said cheekily. A low laugh made you both look up to the end of the biobed. McCoy stood there, arms crossed and a smile playing on his lips. "Good to see you awake Jim," he said walking around so he stood beside you. "Bones looks like you only pulled my ass halfway out of the fire this time," Jim said with a grin. Leonard hummed in agreement, he placed a hand on your shoulder, "do you mind if I steal this one for a bit?" He asked and if Jim's smiled could grow bigger it would have.
"Course Bones! She didn't sleep at all by the way," he tattled. You shot him a glare as you were pulled from your stool, "traitor," you hissed. Jim's laughter echoed behind you as you were being guided out of medbay to the officer's mess. On the way, you passed by Spock whose eyes were glued to a Padd, “Lieutenant Commander (Y/L/N), Doctor.” he greeted formally. “Hey Spock, Jim’s awake if you wanted to see him,” you greeted. The Vulcan gave a nod and moved to continue on, “Oh, and give him a nice long lecture on how he needs to wear gloves when coming in contact with foreign flora.” You called after him. Spock hesitated before nodding again; he pulled up your report and disappeared into medbay. “Rat me out again Kirk,” you dared. Leonard snickered and gave a snort, “He’s going to be hearing about this for the next couple of hours, you know that right?” he asked as you both got moving again. “Yup. Don’t hate the player and all that,” you grinned skipping ahead of him a little bit.
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Bora Bora Chapter 3
Here is the next part of my Harry/Pansy fic for murkybluematter’s Rigel Black Chronicles.
Here is the link to read on AO3.
Here are the links to previous parts: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2
And here is the link for the first fic in The Rigel Black Chronicles.
Chapter 3: Must my Name until I Die be No More than an Alibi
When Harry and Archie were first planning their ruse with that dangerous combination of naivete and ambition that continued to land them in increasingly complicated and dangerous situations, Harry had known that it would be hard to keep such a significant secret for so long.
Back then, of course, she had been worried about things like hiding her gender or whether she could believably pass for a pureblood. Sure, those logistical concerns still chafed, but they seemed almost laughable after everything else she had done and been through these last six years. What was sleeping in her clothes and wearing layers all the time to hide the shape of her body compared to constantly pushing down the waves of guilt she felt every time her friends expressed concerns she couldn’t alleviate or made assumptions about a future she knew was never going to happen? What was answering to a new name compared to the isolation she felt with every reminder that everyone who knew and loved her only loved the façade she allowed them to see. She wasn’t even completely honest with Archie anymore since she didn’t want to burden him with the things he couldn’t do anything about.
Harry was a fantastic liar, but it was eating her alive.
There were so many moments when she had entertained the fantasy of telling her friends the truth. She knew she could never go through with it, but on very rare occasions she let herself imagine a world in which she could. A perfect world in which Draco looked at his halfblood best friend with understanding instead of disgust and Pansy told her that this didn’t change anything while the rest of the DA nodded along reassuringly. She knew that she was just torturing herself with impossibilities, that these were just dreams. It was always just going to be a dream: a nice thought but never a reality.
But that didn’t change that she wanted it to be real. More than anything she wanted to spill the secrets that separated her from her peers. Every lie, every excuse, everything. Maybe that was selfish. Oh, who was she kidding? It was definitely selfish. She would be putting Pansy in the position of having to choose between everything and everyone she loved or betraying a friend, just to alleviate Harry’s conscience.
But then again, Pansy was already offering to put herself in that position without knowing what Harry knew. They weren’t Hufflepuffs after all. It was insulting to think that Pansy would offer something like this if she didn’t think it was worth it. And she was doing Harry a favor even if she was getting something out of it herself. Wasn’t it only fair to tell her friend what she was really getting herself into, so she could prepare herself for all the possibilities? Maybe it would even bring Pansy comfort to know she wasn’t really offering to marry a stranger. And what kind of person would Harry be if she agreed to something so significant while hiding such a massive secret?
But no matter how much she had liked the thought of coming clean or how much she tried to rationalize the necessity of it now, it was still a terrifying prospect. There were a million “what ifs” she could be asking, but, at the end of the day, Harry knew what she had to do if she was going to be able to live with herself.
After what felt like an eternity, Harry opened her mouth only to choke on a sudden upwelling of emotion. Pansy, recognizing her friend’s distress even if she didn’t understand it, took both of Harry’s hands into her own, her forehead creasing in clear concern. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Harry tried again.
“When we first met… When we all first became friends, do you remember what I told you?”
Pansy raised a single eyebrow, nodding slowly all the while. “You’re referring to when you told us that you had secrets you couldn’t share, I assume?”
“Right,” Harry said. “I told you that I had secrets and that I was going to lie to you constantly, not because I wanted to, but because I needed to.” Harry met Pansy’s eyes with an embarrassingly imploring look. “I need you to know that this wasn’t personal, Pan. I never wanted to hurt you, any of you, though I recognize now that that was most likely inevitable from the beginning.”
On any other day, Pansy probably would have made a flippant comment about how there was no need to be so dramatic, but that was a ship long since sailed. Instead, she remained perfectly still, as if afraid of shattering the moment and sending her friend’s secrets scurrying back into the dark. The almost imperceptible tightening of Pansy’s grip was the only signal she gave that she was ready.
There was no sugarcoating it at this point, Harry thought. Instead, she finally let herself come out and say what needed to be said: “Pansy, I’m Harry Potter.”
Harry hadn’t been precisely certain how Pansy would react to her announcement. Surely the practiced pureblood heiress had too much control to explode in anger the way Draco might, but she did expect some sort of emotion on Pansy’s face. What Harry wasn’t prepared for was the combination of owlish blinking and the slight slackening of Pansy’s jaw that she got instead.
“Er…alright there, Pan,” she asked tentatively when it became clear that the silence wasn’t going to end itself.
Pansy seemed to snap back into herself with the suddenness of a slamming door. “I’m sorry, I thought you just said you were Harry Potter,” she responded warningly. “I don’t suppose asking you to repeat yourself would change that statement to something less insane?”
“Umm, not really?” If she hadn’t been so preoccupied, Harry might have had the wherewithal to be amused by the fact that her voice had managed to cross into an entirely new octave over the course of those three words, despite the voice deepening spell’s best efforts. As it was, she found herself leaning forward earnestly, needing Pansy to understand, as she pressed forward with an “I know how it sounds, and I’m sure you have questions—”
Pansy pulled her hands free with all the force of a hurricane as she spun away from Harry to pace in front of the table. “Of course, I have questions! Like ‘what in Merlin’s name do you mean you’re Harry Potter,’ or, more importantly, ‘when the hell did my best friend lose his bloody mind?!’” She paused in her tirade to glance back at Harry. “Her mind?” Harry nodded hesitantly (too shocked at hearing her elegant friend cursing to do much else), and Pansy went back to pacing. “Her mind then.” She kept pacing but refused to meet Harry’s eyes as she started muttering to herself and started to twist at her fingers.
After a while, Harry couldn’t help but start to worry that she wasn’t the only one who had lost her mind. By the time Pansy stopped her muttering with a heavy full-body sigh, Harry was beginning to wonder how she was going to explain to Draco that she had broken their friend. Instead, she was left to meet the full force of Pansy’s accusing gaze.
“You’ve always been Harriet, haven’t you? I keep trying to figure out when you managed to swap without us noticing, but there wasn’t ever any change to notice, was there? That’s why you tried so hard to shake Draco and I in our first year.”
Harry had never seen Pansy so openly intense or frazzled before. She wondered whether that was because Pansy was usually better at hiding it, or if she had finally pushed the girl past her limits. Maybe it was both. Either way, she wasn’t sure she could have lied under the pressure of that look even if she had any inclination to do so.
“Yes,” she said, wondering if this was how the prisoners her father interrogated felt when they finally confessed. “Archie wanted to go to AIM with me to study healing, but Sirius was insisting that he attend Hogwarts instead. And, more than anything, I wanted to study under—”
“—under Professor Snape,” Pansy finished with her. Her expression had morphed into something that could charitably be described as exasperated. “I hate how much sense this makes. You do know that you and your cousin are both absolute idiots, correct?”
Harry grimaced but nodded nonetheless. “In our defense, we were eleven, and we haven’t been caught yet.”
Pansy squinted at her suspiciously. “No one has figured out you’re not Arcturus Black? Not even Professor Lupin? Or Madam Pomphrey any of the many times you landed yourself in the hospital wing?”
“Well, I kind of avoided Uncle Remus like the plague, and my Archie cologne seems to have worked wonders for fooling his sense of smell. And, um, Madam Pomphrey is usually too busy wanting to strangle me for refusing treatment to wonder why. And, well, Flint didn’t really seem to care once I agreed to do his homework until he graduated?” Harry didn’t really want to get into the details of her sealing curse and Merriam’s situation until she had to.
Pansy was not moved by Harry’s sheepish smile and started to rub her temples as if her fingers would be enough to ward off the inevitable headache that was making an appearance. “We are definitely going to come back to the ‘refusing treatment thing,’ but are you really telling me that Marcus Flint knows that the Potter heiress has spent the last seven years running around Hogwarts committing blood identity theft, and your response was to do his homework?”
“I mean, he really didn’t want to do his homework, and he just thought I was some random poor kid that Archie hired to take his place. He didn’t even realize I’m a girl.”
She did not look convinced. “Do you have any idea how much danger— No don’t answer that. You do, and you’re probably convinced that it’s worth it anyway.” She ran a hand through her blonde tresses. “I don’t know whether to call you a Gryffindor for being foolish enough to get yourself into this situation, or to be impressed that you had the cunning to be able to hide it from everyone who loves you so successfully for so long.”
Harry didn’t think that that last comment was meant to sting quite as much as it did. If there was one thing she had never wanted her ruse to do, it was hurt her friends and family, but somedays it felt like all she did. “I never wanted to hurt you, Pan. I promise I wasn’t trying to make a fool of you all. I know I don’t deserve your friendship, and I understand if you can’t forgi—”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Ry— Harriet. You’re hardly the only one in our friend group who lies, and it isn’t as though you didn’t try to warn us. We may have befriended you because of the last name you were using, but we stuck around because of who you are, regardless of what people call you.”
Harry felt her eyes warm with traitorous tears she refused to shed as she looked anywhere but at her best friend. “You really don’t hate me for lying to you? Even though I’m not a pureblood?” She heard rather than saw Pansy come back to her side of the table but was still caught off guard when the other girl sank to her knees in front of Harry’s chair.
“Alright,” Pansy said, her voice quiet but insistent. “Look at me, Harriet.” When Harry failed to do so, she felt a slender finger gently guiding her chin up until she was forced to meet her friend’s blue eyes. “There you are.” Her mouth lifted into the slightest smile. “Now, you are going to listen to me, Harriet, and you are going to get this into that paranoid skull of yours.
“Am I angry with you? Yes. I am so incredibly furious with you that my words could never do the feeling justice. I am furious that after all the times Draco and I have tried to convince you otherwise, you are still convinced that you aren’t worthy of our affection. I am furious that you value yourself and everything that makes you you so little that the only problem you see with a scheme that puts you in this much danger is how it affects other people. I am furious that you have been so consistently misunderstood and failed by the adults in your life that you were able to pull this off without a single one of them noticing. I’m angry that you’ve been shouldering alone this for so long. I should be angry that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me sooner, though I understand why you didn’t, probably better than most. I should be angrier than I am that your odd behavior made me wonder and worry that you were being abused at home, though I’m mostly relieved that there’s a better explanation. And I should be angry that you benefitted from my connections and my advice when they were originally given based on a pretense, but that was my decision to make.”
“But do I hate you for being a halfblood? Do you really have so little faith in me, after all these years, to think that there was anything that could make me care for you any less?”
As if she was a puppet whose strings had been cut, Harry found herself falling from her chair and into her best friend’s embrace. She couldn’t have held back her sobs any longer if her life depended on it.
-0
[PpPpPp]
-0
Pansy clung to Harriet just as hard Harriet clung to her. The other girl —and wasn’t it strange to think of her friend as a girl— was sobbing into Pansy’s shoulder as if seven years’ worth of stress and fear and guilt was all trying to escape at once. Good. She was no doubt overdue.
As they swayed back in forth, Pansy let her hand glide over the other girl’s back in what she hoped were soothing circles. It was odd, she mused, how quickly the world could shift. For years, she had felt increasingly uncomfortable with how she had been raised to see halfbloods, and so much of it had stemmed from the girl currently falling apart in her arms.
Whether it was Rigel’s research into Riddle’s ancestry or the book she recommended after one Arithmancy lesson or “Rigel’s” steadfast insistence that Harriet and Lily Potter were just as worthy, just as talented as any pureblood witch or wizard, the pieces had always been there, even when she hadn’t wanted to see them. “Rigel” had made her aware of just how talented a potion’s master Professor Snape was and had been the one to convince her to give Lupin a chance, and there had never been any doubt that McGonagall knew what she was talking about.
The dissonance had only increased as they got older, and she started seeing more and more proof that her parents and the rest of the Party were wrong about blood purity’s effect on one’s magic. She remembered reading about Harriet Potter’s potions innovations and being immensely grateful for them when she learned how they had saved Draco at the World Cup. She remembered how fascinated Blaise had become in Lady Potter’s work incorporating runes into her experimental charms research, how he had spoken of the potential for it to revolutionize both flagging fields. She remembered how impressed she had been despite herself with Hermione Granger’s intelligence and performance in Riddle’s tournament, no matter how dramatically the odds had been stacked against her.
But Pansy had been raised to be the perfect pureblood daughter. After everything her parents had done for her, what right did she have to question their strongest beliefs? Didn’t she owe it to them, to everyone, to keep the status quo?
So, she had looked away, had squashed down that little voice in her mind telling her their arguments didn’t make any sense. She ignored how much the dual disappointment and resignation on Rigel’s face every time the subject of blood purity came up made her stomach twist, how much disappointing Rigel hurt. It had gotten to the point, in those rare quiet moments when she was completely alone, that she had to admit to herself that she didn’t really believe that blood purity really made that much of a difference, though she was still enough of a coward that she could later convince herself that she was just confused, that a few exceptions didn’t necessarily negate the rule entirely.
But here was her best friend, risking their very soul to let her in on their deepest secret. Here was her best friend telling her he wasn’t the pureblood boy she had known, but the halfblood girl she had been raised to view with disgust. And, yet, everything she had told Harriet was the truth.
Because how could anyone look at Rigel Black, at the child who killed a Basilisk at twelve years old, and say they were unworthy of the education that allowed them to be present to do it? Who could look at Rigel Black, at the child who had risked life and limb saving a school full of people who would hate them for their duplicity over and over again solely because they were the only one who could, and say that they were lesser? Pansy certainly couldn’t. And more than that, Pansy realized all at once, as a heavy sense of resolution settled around her with the steadiness of a familiar cloak, anyone who thought there could ever be a world in which Harriet Potter was a mistake just had to be wrong. There was no other way about it.
Yes, as Pansy looked into Harriet’s eyes, in spite of the twisted mess of betrayal and grief and pride and anger and relief that coursed through her at the other girl’s admission, Pansy couldn’t just see the halfblood who had lied to her. She also saw her best friend, someone who was just as much family as her parents.
Pansy knew she would need to work through the complicated emotions that would feel more pressing once things had had the chance to sink in a bit better. There would be time for hurt feelings later. But for now, what mattered was that Harriet knew that she was still just as loved as she had been that morning. And speaking of which…
Pansy pulled back when Harriet’s sobs had subsided to quiet shuddering so that she could see her face again. There was another tug in her gut at how emotionally wrecked the other girl looked, but Pansy didn’t let it stop her. “We’ll have to talk about this more. I know there’s more you haven’t told me, and we’ll get there, we’ll get through whatever it is.” Harriet hummed her agreement.
“But now that I know the answer to whether or not Harriet Potter and I would get along,” Pansy asked with a smirk, “what I still need to know is how she would feel about marrying Pansy Parkinson.”
#rigel black chronicles#rigel black#pureblood pretense#harry potter/pansy parkinson#rigel black series#Harry Potter#Harriet Potter#murkybluematter#fem!harry potter#Pansy Parkinson#fanfiction of a fanfiction#fanfic of a fanfic#bora bora#my writing#my fic writing#my fanfiction#my fanfic#original post
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Guarding You - AUgust Day 31
This is using both the College au and Bodyguard au Title: Guarding You - Chapter1: En Garde Collaborators: @fightingforcreativity, purple_ducky00 Link: Read on AO3 Ship: WinterIronHusband Rating: Explicit Tags: AU Bodyguard, AU College/University, College Student Tony Stark, College Student Rhodey, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending, Dorks in love, Falling In Love, Fade to black sex, slices of life, Mention of alcohol, creep tries to creep on Tony, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Pining, Minor Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau/Nick Fury, mentioned dog, betrayal, Violence, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Injury Recovery, Clint Barton Trolls People Warning: alcohol use, canon typical violence (later chapters) fade to black sex Summary: As Tony Stark always managed to get rid of the bodyguards Howard sends, the older Stark decided to try a different agency, one he knew had specialized bodyguards.
The man he ends up hiring seems competent enough.
James "Bucky" Barnes gets a job which leads him back to college. He might or might not gets into trouble with his neighbors Tony Stark and Rhodey Rhodes.
And those troubles might lead to something neither of the three could have anticipated.
++++++++
Chapter 1
“So Howard Stark is paying for your college?” Sam asked. "And you're going to MIT? How is that a bad thing?"
"I'm hired to babysit his manchild son," Bucky grumbled. "I have to be his 'friend' so that he doesn't try to get me fired."
“And you think that will work out? C’mon Barnes, we all know you’re not the friendliest sunshine out there,” In moments like this, Bucky wondered why he was friends with Sam Wilson and Clint Barton.
“Stop it. Bucky is one of the best men there is! I’m sure if one person can deal with the Stark brat, it’s Bucky.”
That was the reason, because his idiotic best friend Steve Rogers was friend with those as well, and maybe because they all worked for the same company.
“Aw, Cap, you and your man crush are always so cute.” Here was Natalia. Why Natalia constantly broke into the boys locker room of their bodyguard agency, was a mystery.
The chorus of “Hey Nat.” wasn’t even a surprised one so often this occured. The one person who didn’t greet Natalia was Rumlow. “Great. Romanov, when will you learn that this is the man’s changing room.”
Natalia tapped herself thoughtfully on her chin before replying, “Hm, let me think… Ok, never. When will you, Rumlow, learn that in an agency like ours gender separation doesn’t exist?”
Rumlow grinded his teeth and left the room, clearly hating that Natalia got one up on him.
Shaking his head Clint claps Natalia playfully on the shoulder, “Not everyone here knows the agency’s philosophies by heart as you do, Nat. Ease up.”
In the next moment the blonde found himself on his back on the floor, Natalia pinning him beneath her. “Well, those who are here as long as Rumlow should. And you need to work on your reflexes.”
Her grin was audible and Bucky couldn’t help and join in the teasing and bantering developing after. He was aware that Natalia had manipulated the situation so that the attention had been drawn away from him. Bucky prefered it that way.
~~~
Rhodey knew that Tony loved him dearly. Heck, how everyone else couldn’t see it was beyond the young college student. It was evident in every single thing Tony did or didn’t do around Rhodey.
Everytime the younger man made sure not to wake Rhodey when he came from a lab binge. Tony attempted to make Rhodey breakfast over and over to make him breakfast, mostly resulting in Rhodey trying to salvage it and Tony pouting. Rhodey was one of the only people Tony was vulnerable around. Rhodey could go on for ages and would still find things to list that showed how much Tony loved his ‘honeybear’.
Out of that love alone, Rhodey endured the one thing he hated most about Tony.
“I can’t believe him!” The genius was currently pacing their small sitting area, exclaiming his disbelief and displeasure about Howard Stark. The one thing Rhodey hated about Tony was Howard Stark and the man’s behavior towards Tony. It left the smaller man raw and hurt, left him for the wolves to dig their teeths in and more often than not it was only Rhodey who picked up the pieces. Every goddamn time hurt and sliced into the black man’s soul.
“Another of those idiots? LIke hell I let myself be confined to the dorm! Wasn’t that idiot Lang not bad enough? Sure that guy had some smart ideas, shouldn’t be a bodyguard that guy, better off in science, don’t you think, Rhodey?- Anyway, I can’t!”
Rhodey had had enough of the ramble born of anger. The next time Tony was close enough, Rhodey took the smaller man’s wrist gently into his hand. “Tones.”
The nickname was spoken barely louder than a whisper. Gently stopping the genius in his tracks, making brown eyes focus solely on Rhodey. It made Rhodey feel humbled and honored. Made him believe he can do everything, achieve everything in the world, because Tony looked at him like he could. ‘Gosh, will I ever get used to this?’
Deep down James hoped he wouldn’t ever. Because getting used to being Tony’s sole focus, to feeling like he could do everything, would make James not better than all those who had used Tony and then discarded him. After Bain and Stone, James had sworn that there wouldn’t be anyone like them in Tony’s life again, as long as he was around at least.
Yes, Rhodey understood why Howard Stark had decided to send out bodyguards after the whole thing with Bain, it didn’t mean Rhodey liked the situation any better than Tony did.
“Ok Tones, here’s what we gonna do.”
For dramatics, Rhodey waited a heartbeat and another before continuing, “We look into the guy he hires next, because we both know he will, and then we devise a strategy against the new one,” And then, just because he could he added with a wink, “Especially if that one wants to kick me out of my own dorm as well.”
The resulting chuckle from Tony was well worth the exaggerated way he had presented the ‘strategy’. Still holding Tony’s wrist let him experience first hand how fast Tony relaxes after that. The rest of their night Rhodey and Tony chilled, a physics book here, a blueprint there, chips bowl in the middle of their mess.
The next few weeks nothing happened and somehow Rhodey started to think that maybe, just maybe Howard Stark had seen reason.
But if Howard Stark and Tony Stark had one thing in common, how Rhodey had to experience painfully, it was their bullheadedness.
~~~
Tony got to his first class of the morning and saw a new student sitting in the middle of the classroom. He took his normal seat by the wall and kept an eye on the new guy. It wasn’t the first time Howard sent someone his age to babysit him. The new guy never looked at him once and participated in the class just like everyone else. He shook his head and thought nothing of it.
He started to get suspicious, though, when the same guy was sitting in the back of his next class! No one has the same schedule unless it’s rigged, right? The guy must have felt the weight of his stare because he looked up at him and raised a questioning eyebrow. Ahh, so he was a good actor. Ok. Tony shook his head. He would figure him out somehow.
When Tony got back to his dorm, he flopped down on the couch beside Rhodey. “I think Howard hired another bodyguard.”
“What makes you think that?” Rhodey asked, focusing on his tablet.
“Well, there’s this new guy in ALL of my classes, Rhodey. Every. Single. Fucking. One. How do you explain that, huh?”
“I’m in the same classes as Carol,” Rhodey reminded him. “It’s not that uncommon, you know?”
Tony fumed. “I swear. If I see him somewhere else that he’s not supposed to be, I’m going to drag him to Howard myself…”
“Ok, sure. You do that, Tones.” Rhodey finally looked up from his tablet. “Want to grab some Thai food?”
Tony quickly agreed and grabbed his coat. The first one out the door, he stopped short when he saw his new neighbor. “You. fucking piece of pushover shit!” He yelled, and the guy stepped back. “I’m sorry. Have I done something to offend you?” He asked challengingly.
Rhodey stepped between them. “This the guy, Tony?” Tony nodded. “I’m sorry. Tony’s being a little paranoid. His father sends bodyguards to watch him, and he doesn’t take kindly to that.” Rhodey explained. Tony gasped. Rhodey, you traitor!
“Yea, well he should stop attacking every single person he suspects. I’d rather not have to worry about being killed every time I get home.” The man crossed his unfairly muscled arms.
“Do you know Howard Stark?” Tony blurted out. He wanted to smack himself.
The guy raised an eyebrow. “Yea? Hasn’t everyone?”
Yea. Stupid question. “Whatever. Sorry for accosting you. But if I find out that Howard hired you!” Tony lifted a warning finger. Rhodey groaned and pulled Tony away, yelling. “Sorry!”
“He’s good. He’s good.” Tony fumed. “Too bad he can’t hide any texts or payment records from me.”
“Tony.” Rhodey seemed to have this conversation with him every time Tony found the new bodyguard. “Maybe it’s a good thing that there’s someone else here looking out for you. What do you think Howard would do if you just went with it?”
“He can’t send someone to watch me, then pat himself on the back for good parenting. I won’t let him. Everyone he hires is just as messed up as he is, so I won’t have any qualms about getting them fired.” Tony is angry.
Rhodey sighed like he always did. “I get you. We’ll keep an eye on this guy, ok? But no more attacking him. We don’t need another complaint from a neighbor. They might actually kick us out this time.” “Kick out a Stark? From MIT?” Tony laughed humorlessly.
“Let’s just wait it out. They always tend to reveal themselves at some point. Hey, maybe this guy’s a good one.”
“If you’re not with me, then you’re against me!” Tony intoned, somberly.
Rhodey shot back. “Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must.”
“You will try…” Tony replied, and they both laughed. “Ahh, good old Anakin.”
“One of the better Star Wars movies.”
“More like the best.” Tony announces with finality. “Want to head back? I want to meet my new neighbor. We can stop past the Cheesecake Factory and bring him a slice of cheesecake.”
Rhodey shook his head. He could see the wheels turning in Tony’s head.
+++++++
Bucky just got out of the shower when there was a knock on his door. “If this is one more frat boy asking me to come party…” He growled. “ONE MINUTE!” He yelled as he slipped on a pair of pants. Four or five different frat guys had come up asking him to join their frat because he looked the part. Funnily enough, he could fit into the “Chad” frat, the “hipster” frat, the ROTC frat, and another one that he couldn't remember. Bucky threw open the door. “Can I help… oh it’s you again. Did you come to kill me?” He asked sarcastically.
“Meep.” Was all the Stark kid could say. He holds up a container.
The black man behind him, James Rhodes, if he remembered right from his briefing, spoke up. “If Tony wasn’t flustered by your rippling pectorals or whatever he’d say, I’m sure he would be telling you that he’s sorry for attacking you. He bought you a piece of cheesecake as an apology. Would you like to join us for dessert?”
What the hell. Why not. Bucky figured he would at least be able to scope out Stark’s room if needed. “Umm… sure. Let me just get a shirt on first.”
“I mean, you don’t have to.” Of course, that’s when Stark decided to speak.
Bucky shook his head. “I think you’d like that too much. Hold on a quick second.” Going back to his room, he pulled on a T-shirt. Following the others to their room, he was amazed at the sight. They had three bots just rolling around the living room. “Holy shit. This is amazing!”
‘Yeah, I’m a nerd. Sue me.’
“Isn’t it?” Tony commented. “So, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Hi, I’m Tony Stark, and this is my Honeybear, my Platypus, James Rhodes, but his name is Rhodey. These bots are DUM-E, U, and BUTTERFINGERS. They’re pretty much natural disasters…”
Rhodey cut in with a “Like their dad.”
“...but I love them all the same. Thank you, Rhodey. I’m glad they imprinted on me, not you. No one wants boring robots who follow the rules.” Tony patted Rhodey’s cheek. “Also, J, say hi.”
Hello Sir. A voice from the ceiling made Bucky look up.
“That’s JARVIS. My AI. He’s not fully complete, but he’ll be done by the time I graduate.”
Bucky was speechless. “Wow… this… Amazing, Tony. Anyways, nice to meet you both. I’m James Barnes, but my friends all call me Bucky. So, you can call me that if you want. “Ok,” Rhodey agreed as Tony snorted. “Bucky? Why? Do they hate you? Are you like a bucking bronco? Where’s the correlation here?”
“My middle name is Buchanan. My best friend named me Bucky when we were kids. It stuck, I guess.”
“No offense to your friend, but that’s a stupid-ass name, and I won’t stand for it. I will call you ‘James’ on serious occasions. Any other time, we shall see.”
“Tones, don’t you think it’s a little rude to make fun of a guy’s name that you’re trying to make amends with?” Rhodey wondered.
Tony batted at him. “I think it’s rude that he decided to let his friend name him Bucky. Like Bucky? Bucky, Bucky, Bucky wants a little fucky,” He singsonged. “Sorry, just can’t take him seriously.”
Bucky burst out laughing. “Well, I have never seen such contempt for my name before. Sure, whatever, call me what you want as long as it’s not your fairy godmother or something like that.”
“Note to self: never call Buckyboo ‘your fairy godmother or something like that,’” Tony murmured. “What about Jamie, Jamifer, Mr. Hotpants? I like Jamie. I have a Rhodey and a Jamie.” He sung softly, as if to himself.
Bucky could feel his defenses falling as he knew that Tony Stark is just his type. “Only if I can call you ‘Snark’ sometimes.”
“You got it.” Tony reached out his hand to shake, while Rhodey sat back in horror. “Now there’s two of them.” He groaned.
+++++++ Bucky left not long after they finished their cheesecake. Rhodey turned to Tony. “Still think he’s a bodyguard?”
“He’s too hot for Howard to hire. Howard knows I’d try to sleep with him off the bat. Isn’t that what he’s here to stop?” Tony grinned. “No matter what, we’ll find out in a little bit. Jamie gave me his phone number so JARVIS is hacking it. He can tell us if he’s been in contact with Howard at all.”
Pardon my interruption, Sir, but I have all his text threads. Do you want his bank information as well?
“Thanks J. No, just check to see if he has received any payments from Howard or SI.”
He has not.
“See? All that for nothing.” Rhodey spread his hands.
Tony smiled. He liked Jamie.
++++++
Bucky knew Tony was suspicious. From what Howard had told him, Tony would try to hack into whatever he could to make sure Bucky is not a hired guard. So, he opened two bank accounts. He has two phone numbers, making sure his friends know to never mention his current job in the texts to his new number. He felt like he was living in Witness Protection.
Apparently finding Bucky squeaky clean, Tony opened up to him quickly. He has heard of the infamous Stark parties where things got out of hand quickly, and he has even gone to a few, but it seems to Bucky that Tony is only throwing those parties because he thought that is what was expected of him. Tony spent most of his weekends in his private labs or in his dorm room. Bucky couldn’t fault him for that. College parties were the worst.
Read more here
#winterironhusbands#winteriron#ironhusbands#wintermachine#bodyguard au#college au#AU_gust_2020#i write!
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Harry Hook x pan! reader Oneshot - quartermaster?
requested by @lowkeyaesthvtic
May I have a request where the reader is the daughter of Peter Pan (the OUAT one that was a villain) and she wants to get closer to Harry (they’re already dating) but can’t do that unless she convinces Uma to be a second “first mate?” Harry could help too if you want.
the daughter of peter pan, that’s who you were, known to be the daughter of one of the evilest villains in history, and when Auradon had been created, beast, aka Rumplestiltskin, and belle, who looked awfully similar to the blue fairy for some reason. Had banished Pan to the isle of the lost, along with many other villains, including the once pirate villain “captain hook”, forcing him to leave his wife and his children were forced to follow him.
The people of Auradon forced rumples hand and he regrettably sent Killian, Hope, Harrison, and Calista Jane to the isle, the youngest only a couple months old.
“We can't have the children of villains here, they'll kill us all!!” the people of Auradon cried
Fools, rumple was a villain once upon a time and they seemed to have conveniently forgotten that.
Though now he called himself Adam and cast a permanent illusion that made him look different.
So now you sat in the caves near the crocodile shores, leaning against a midsized croc, named Gorvan, the spawn of tick-tock. (for some reason the crocs from the Disney version of peter pan were also on the isle, no one really cared, they were mostly chill unless you purposely aggravated them)
Waiting for your boyfriend Harry Hook.
Now you might be thinking
‘hey? Aren’t pan and hook enemies?’ and you would be correct, Captain Hook and Peter Pan were enemies, but Hook had killed Pan only a couple of months after arriving at the isle, as the demon-like boys magic no longer existed, so he died from his wounds, and the barrier, which prevented death (unless from old age), had not cared to resurrect pan.
so your mother, who was eight months pregnant with you, asked Killian to not hold the fact of who your parent was over your head, and he had agreed, never referring to you as pans daughter, but your own annoying but tolerable person.
A person that loved his son, he had been slightly weirded out when he discovered your relationship with harry, before shrugging, he had no room to talk, he married the daughter of snow white and prince charming.
“lassie?! You in here?!” Gorvan popped his head up, recognizing Harry's voice, and stood, making you fall back when your pillow left and trotted to where Harry was standing at the entrance, too afraid to enter the den of the crocs.
“nonononon stay away!!! You beast get back!!! (y/n)!!” you sighed and stood, going to where you heard Harry's panicked babbling.
“really harry?” you groaned, patting the scaly head of the teen croc, gorvan seemed to snicker and trotted into a corner, giving harry space to climb down from a tree just outside the cave entrance.
“You can come down now, he's in the corner”
“but he's still watching” Harry whined, tightly clutching to the heavy branch he was on.
You sighed, nodding at your shadow, who nodded back, walking over to where Harry's shadow was being cast and picked it up, making harry float up from the branch, he yelped, wriggling around.
“h-hey! Do yeh have teh do this every time?!” he screeched, your shadow dropping his next to you, making harry plop down on his butt at your feet.
“well if you actually came down I wouldn’t have to” you smiled down at him, he grumbled standing up, wiping the back of his jacket, dust falling.
“whatever” he crossed his arms pouting at you. “so hooky” you cooed, still grinning, stepping closer to the pirate. “got any new plans to help me get into the crew?’
Harry sighed “no, uma is adamant on not letting yeh on the crew, even as a low-level member.”
“ugg” you groaned, whyyyy? Harry's place as the first mate prevented the two of you from bonding more, as boyfriend and girlfriend at least, you two had grown up together, knowing almost everything about each other, but still umas crew took a lot of Harrys time, and you understood! You had the lost kids to worry over, a lot of which had asked a while ago to join uma nad you let them, uma was an amazing leader, you weren’t really thinking of the fact that they preferred her over you, you were more worried over their protection.
And plus they still bunkered down at the campout a lot so it's not like they completely abandoned you.
“do you know why?” you asked, messing with the thin material of Harry's sleeveless hoodie. Harry sighed nodding.
“aye, she finally gave meh the reason, instead of just ransom reasons”
You peered at Harry, raising your brow “oh, do tell”
“she thinks that if yeh join we would distract each other from our duties, shed rather our relationship be a factor in the crew”
You rolled your eyes “seriously! Im like the best at separating relationships from work! You know that! She should know that!”
Harry nodded, he had seen your ability to do that himself. awhile ago mad Maddy, who had been one of your best friends at the time, had stolen and hurt Fiona, Felix's daughter, and you had separated the relationship you had with her and gone after her, forgoing your relationship with her to do your duty as leader of the lost kids.
You had told her it was nothing personal, but she didn’t care. and after the split of the vks after the shrimpy incident, the two of you split, you siding with uma, while Maddy sided with mal.
You sighed, you couldn’t force uma to let you onto the crew, she was captain, it was up to her.
“fine” you mumbled, letting your weight go and bumping your forehead onto Harry's torso/shoulder, pouting into his skin “whatever”
Harry sighed, wrapping his arms around you, “don’t worry lass, we’ll figure this out”
You nodded, rubbing your face into his jacket.
----
Uma sighed, one of her newer members was an absolute idiot, stealing from pan. Her and (y/n) had an agreement, you don’t bother me I won't bother you, and the new idiot, kyle, son of Hans, wanted to prove himself, choosing to steal something important from pan.
A small bottle, filled with dust, pixie dust, now kyle didn’t know what he stole, he just found the bottle in a locked box, thought It was something her mother or peter gave (y/n) before dying and stole it. Thinking it would get him points with uma.
It didn’t.
Uma paced the deck, harry front and center, she hoped that Harry's relationship with (y/n) would convince her to back down, and simply ask for the dust back.
Oh, boy was she wrong.
(y/n) had arrived, three lost kids for each pirate crew member, glaring them down.
“uma” you called, flipping your blade in your hand, drifting your eyes over umas crew, locking eyes with harry for a moment, who gestured to kyle. “I believe you have something of mine, I want it back”
Uma was willing to back down, but her crew yelled out in protest, and she sighed, well, can't disappoint the crew, that would also ruin her reputation, she drew her sword, staring into the girls (e/c) eyes.
“then take it”
The sound of pirates and lost kids clashing sounded across the cove, you started toward uma, leader vs leader.
Harry hopped in front of her, grinning at you, hand on his sword and hook pointed at you.
“Hello love” you smirked, cocking your hip.
“hey hooky”
“would yeh mind stepping down, for meh~?” he gave you that grin, the one that usually could melt you into a puddle.
Not today, you had a mission. A duty.
“Sorry dude” you raced forward, taking advantage of him not drawing his sword, stealing his hook, tripping him, and rolling him off your back and into the shallows.
“duty calls”
Uma stood surprised, she thought that a simple wink from harry would make you back down, not wanting to hurt him due to your relationship.
But you straight up just dunked harry into the water.
Umas sword clashed with yours, and you fought, a fast-paced dance between blades and uma somehow got the upper hand, flinging your sword away and knocking you back.
You fell with a grunt, seeing a certain someone behind uma. You got out your crossbow, opening the bolt bag at your side, and loading it.
You looked up, seeing Fiona pushing uma down, her larger stature easily overpowering ume.
You aimed the crossbow, the shot lining with umas ribs.
“(y/n)! don’t!” you heard harry scream, obviously thinking you were about to shoot uma, but you ignored him, Fiona shoved uma to the floor and pinned her.
You took the shoot.
The blot flew thought the air soaring past where uma stood only a moment ago, landing in kyles arm, he screamed in pain, releasing his sword, kneeling down and clutching his arm.
“AHHH!!!!” you stood, closing the bows of the crossbow and swinging it to lay on your back, stepping over umas arm and kneeling next to kyle, face blank.
“ill have that bottle you took”
Kyle nodded, tears and snot running down his face, digging into his jacket pocket and bringing out the small bottle of dust and fumbling to hand it to you.
“good boy” you muttered, taking the bottle and ripping the bolt from his arm, kyle crying out in pain again.
You stood, walking over to uma, and shoving Fiona off of her “sorry uma, but this stuff is not to leave my person, your crew member violated our agreement as well” uma took your hand, letting you pull her up.
“I know I know” she sighed, picking up her hat from the floor glaring down at Kyle, who was still whimpering on the floor, “I tell every single crew member to leave your territory alone, and this idiot steals” she gestures to the bottle “that”
You laughed, your lost kids now backing off from the crew, talking to the ex lost kids now on the crew. If their leaders got along, no reason to fight.
“yeah, so see ya later cap’n” you saluted to her, turning and walking off the ship, waggling your fingers at harry, who winked back.
“ see ya later hooky, sorry bout dunking ya!”
“at least there were no crocs” he yelled back with a smile, seeing you laugh, walking off with your lost kids to head to the hideout.
Harry sighed, staring after you, he wants to follow, but uma probably needed him here.
Uma walked up, seeing Harry's look.
“so harry?” she started, waiting for Harry to look at her “do you think (y/n) still wants to join?”
Harry's jaw dropped, “wha? But I thought ye said-“
“I know what I said, now tell (y/n) that the position for quartermaster is open”
“quartermaster?” Harry repeated, confused.
“yes quartermaster, now go get her! And tell the lost kids they are welcome to join”
harry grinned, nodding and racing off the ship, calling your name.
---the end---
#descendants#Descendents#disney descendants#harryhook#harry hook#harry hook descendants#harry hook x reader#harry hook imagine#pan! reader#tick toc
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Home
Shepard wakes up in a hospital alone.
* * *
In all nearly a hundred ships are unaccounted. Her voice grows feebler as years go by with no contact, no sign, no return. He’s alive, she insists, believing she’d know, somehow, if he were not.
Her mother tells her to let it go. He’s just a man. She lived, and she’s wasting her life away.
* * *
She sits in a studio on the tenth anniversary of Liberation Day and answers the same tedious questions as all the years before. She tries to avoid blurting out that this is also her anniversary, in a way, by sheer coincidence also fourteen years to the day since she arrived at her X.O. post under Anderson and met the crew. She remembers that first sight of him— quiet, a little too serious for six in the morning and much too handsome for a marine, and her heart crumbles to nothing as it’s overlaid by that last glance, bloody, bruised, as their friends hauled him back aboard the ship. Away from her.
At the end, the reporter asks, “You’ve been on Earth a decade now. Is it starting to feel like home?”
Home was a small room on a smaller ship with Kaidan in bed beside her. She smiles blithely and makes some trite excuse for how obviously uneasy she is, even after all this time.
* * *
Three months later, a whisper. A rumor. A dream. A merchant freighter logged an anomalous signal in the Traverse. They thought it was a turian signal, they said, but it proved to be forged. And if that isn’t exactly the kind of hallmark Joker would use in unknown, possibly dangerous space, she didn’t know what was.
Eight months of pleas and threats fall on deaf ears. The galaxy is still in chaos. People still go without food, there’s not enough ships as it is to hold off the pirates, and nobody has time or fuel to waste chasing the long dead.
Then an unexpected offer. Shala’Raan, at her office, haunted by ghosts of her own. “I need to know,” she says. “I can give you a ship.”
* * *
Volunteers only. The ship is sparsely crewed. The search is tedious, and risky. A great adventure, and she knows that one way or the other, it will be her last.
Twice they nearly turn back.
Then they hear it. The barest thread of a distress call, almost too faint for the VI to distill from the noise. They find the planet.
They find the ship.
She watches the wreckage on the scanner, dumbfounded, unable to comprehend life signs present. It is too much to hope. Her heart is in her throat. For the first time, doubts come. What if he’s angry, the long wait turned to bitterness? What if he gave up on them? He’s done it before, after all. What if he forgot the feel of her mouth or the whispers they spoke together, too afraid to raise their voices lest those dreams be given too much life— enough life to kill?
What if he didn’t survive?
She’s never believed in god, not really, but that one thought chases all the others out. Her eyes squeeze shut and she pleads with every atom of her body to let him be alive, he can hate her if he likes, just let her see him when they land…
And then they set down in the grass, lightly as bird, and she tumbles out the hatch. The camp is in an uproar. People crying, hugging— people sitting on the ground and burying heads in hands. People shouting and laughing, barely able to hear each other, not even caring who knows who from one ship to the next. But she barely registers any of it. Her eyes sweep the crowd but she can’t find his face. A kernel of panic in her stomach, the beginnings of a nightmare.
Somebody engulfs her in a bone-crushing hug and sets her down again. James. He’s saying something, cursing, grinning so wide his face should split in two. But then he finally looks at her, really looks, and the fear is all too plain. He points off to the woods.
“He’s out checking traps,” he says. “We radioed the team to come in.”
And then she hugs him back, fiercely, gratefully, a pressure not unlike tears building up behind her eyes but she can’t even speak, much less sob. Twenty tense minutes pass pacing by the ship, running her hands over her arms, rubbing her palm over the hull, impatient and desperate and strangely anxious, until at last a figure breaks through the tree line. Her head jerks up. Her body goes still.
It should be too far for their eyes to meet, but somehow they find each other. A surge of electricity rushes through her and grounds itself in the earth. She can’t command her own legs.
He screams her name— her real name, the one she was called by as a child, before she somehow got too big for a first name, more an idea best expressed by a title than a human being— he screams it, this man who is so reserved it’s a standing joke. And her knees unlock and she runs toward him, vision too blurry to place her footfalls, drawn onward by the sound of his voice.
They collide in a tangle of limbs and curses and tears and fall into the grass together. Not once in eleven years has she cried but now she’s crying so hard she can’t breathe, all ugly hiccups and oceans of snot and half-formed words emerging from her mouth as unintelligible grunts. He’s softer, her hands too wet to tell his tears from her own, but he kisses her like he can’t stop, cheek forehead mouth hair, over and over, a litany of touch, and his arms are so tight that she can hardly shake even though all of her is trying. Several times she tries to stop, pull back and control herself, and every time she sees his face and it starts all over again.
Minutes or hours or, hell, weeks later, she has no way to tell, she finally composes herself enough to speak, and even as her brain sends the impulse to her lips, it hasn’t decided: I love you, or I missed you, or something joking to ease the tension— but what comes out is, “You’re here!”
He chuckles, and rests his forehead against hers, holding her face between his hands like a relic of a lost age. “I hope so. The only place I’ve ever wanted to be is where you are.”
They sit like that, just a few minutes more, before she hauls him to his feet and they walk slowly back to camp, leaning in on each other. He limps now. Chakwas never could convince his leg to heal right after that final battle. But he gets by, he says. She tucks her arm under him anyway, taking some of his weight, happy to do this small thing. Happy that for the first time in so long, she can take care of him in even the slightest of ways.
There’s a fire, and food, and celebrating— and drinking, and grief, because even for those who survived there is intangible, pervasive loss. Of time, of friends, of the parts of yourself you thought were true until you spent eleven years doing anything to survive.
For their part, despite some good-natured ribbing from friends old and new alike, they’re in their own world. They talk all night. Fingertips trace the gray strands in his hair and the lines at her eyes. She tells him she took his mom on a shuttle tour, to see space, and he tells her how he fed her fish every single day. They started passing away of old age the last few years, but there’s still one left, her first, her favorite, and he swears it refuses to die until it sees her again. All these things shared wordlessly over their long separation, things done to build hope, to stay connected, to hold on to each other across a vast and gaping silence, small acts strong enough bridge ten thousand light years and one broken radio.
And it’s not becoming whole again. It’s coming home.
#f!shepard#kaidan alenko#Fshenko#post-ME3#mass effect#is it cheating to repost something i've had on ffn for years#doing it anyway because i'm going to be too busy to write for a few days#fanfic#pigeon writes
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As tempting as it was to try and write this slightly in character, I’ve been sick these last several days so I’ll try and lessen it, especially for those of you who read this blog and aren’t particularly into Star Wars (That said, if anyone is here from my old SWTOR blog, a Rising Moons/Bright Suns to you depending on where you may be in the universe!). I’m also probably going to bring up a bit other facets of my trip to Disney World, but the focus is absolutely going to be in the brand new area– Galaxy’s Edge where you can visit Batuu and get a feeling of full immersion in the Star Wars Universe.
I wouldn’t really call myself the biggest Star Wars fan, but I like it enough to still enjoy several aspects of it. What I found myself most excited for was using the new Datapad mode through the Play Disney app once we arrived in Batuu. I absolutely adored collecting things in SWTOR so being in this immersive world where we can scan things and do jobs and quests and collect things? Completely up my alley.
While I wouldn’t mind my face not just being a black silhouette, there’s still some fun outfits. As hard as I tried though, I wasn’t able to do everything. I will say as much fun as I had with the Datapad, there were a few… issues I ran into with it. Less about the app itself, but oversights with having this type of connectivity and immersion.
For one, there isn’t a lot of seating. This isn’t really too surprising– besides for immersion reasons, it helps keep people moving and to be honest, it never felt incredibly crowded outside the shops a bit. Because of this though, people essentially make their own seats, whether it be the sides of plants or most commonly, the various crates lingering around. Which wouldn’t be so much of an issue if most of the crates weren’t used for the Datapad game. Various crates of all sizes have a QR code like this, either vertically like below or horizontally: There were many times I ended up passing by areas missing them because people were covering them– whether leaning on it or with their legs while they sat down on it. While some people knew about the app (or recognized it after seeing multiple people playing and having them ask people to move), most had no idea and didn’t realize they were blocking anything. And sometimes people need to sit and nobody really wants to interrupt someone who just wants to take some photos, but there were times I ended up just waiting around for 5-10 minutes for someone to be done to finally scan something for two seconds. Some can even be facing inward which, at least for me, weren’t always easy to reach.
In the end, I managed to get 9/15 Outfits, 3/8 Weapons, 7/11 pieces of Cargo, 12/20 Parts & Scraps, 2/4 The Interior Star Maps, 3/3 New Territories Star Maps, 1/4 The Slice Star Map, 0/2 Trailing Sectors Star Maps, 1/3 Western Reaches Star Map, 2/4 Unknown Regions Star Maps, 8/8 Vehicle Schematics, 0/1 Schematics Data (though, I swear I had this?*), 4/8 Droid Data Memories, 4/5 Dok’s Den Dealings Transmissions, 0/3 Kase Double-Cross Transmissions, 0/2 A Strange Feeling Transmissions, 0/3 A Lifelong Companion Transmissions, 1/3 Debts to Oga Transmissions, 0/3 Life in the Outpost Transmissions, 1/3 Dhoran’s Mistake Transmissions, 1/3 DJ R-3X Transmissions, 1/2 Droid Problems, 1/2 Resistance Operatives Transmissions, 2/4 First Order Comms Transmissions, 0/1 OTS Recruitment Transmission, and 0/1 Monkey Lizard Sighting Transmission. As for titles, I have 23/40 unlocked. I probably won’t unlock all the First Order ones, but I have 2/5 of them thus far. I really want to get the Galactic Explorer title. I also don’t see myself earning Bankrupt or a few others unless something with the requirements change.
*I believe this is the Credits Skimmer. I never really figured out how to utilize it properly. But maybe it just doesn’t show up properly while out of the park.
While you have full control over the crates (barring… anyone sitting on and/or blocking them), the transmissions I had a lot of trouble with. I found my phone just did not seem to pick them up often and they would be gone fairly quickly (like it’d be there and gone within the next refresh even if I didn’t move). Hacking seemed to work the best, but some just… worked in awkward ways (For example, I found I had nothing to hack in the Cantina despite a few things requiring DJ R-3X to be). It felt like I had to walk in circles to really get it to work. Speaking of the Cantina though, we actually went in for breakfast as I just… had to try the Moogan Tea: It was amazing. I actually got a second one to go. We also had some Batuu Bits which were really tasty. I’d love to go again for dinner, though, hopefully we can actually sit next time… Fingers crossed they will have the new dishes that their other location has too.
Moving on, the thing I had the most trouble with was actually the translating. The automatic rarely actually picked up anything I was near (and I needed to hold my phone up in front of it when it was) while it was also near impossible to really do so manually without holding up traffic. I don’t really know a better way to do it, but I ended up making no progress on it because of that. It would translate fine when it actually worked– the problem was just getting it to pick up what I needed.
The jobs were definitely the most fun and for the most part, worked the smoothest. I did almost every job with the exception of some of the First Order jobs– I only did the ones that would get me an item over just credits. I never received more jobs on a different day (though, I could repeat the ones I did), but I’m hoping more may be added in the future.
The exception to “working smoothly” though is “Flight Crew Wanted”, a big multi-step job that requires you accomplishing certain things while in the queue (normal queue– not fast pass and not single rider’s) for Smuggler’s Run. As much as I enjoyed the right (well, sort of– we’ll get to that), this is where I found some of the biggest oversights are for the Datapad mini-game. The job involves helping out Hondo Ohnaka and starts off wanting you to scan crates you will see along the line. There are a lot of crates and occasionally, you’ll be asked questions about where they go. How many crates you scan and how many questions you answer correctly determines what the characters will say about you and how well your performance was.
The biggest issue is that this is a moving line. If the line is moving incredibly slow and it’s a huge line, well, maybe it’ll work out, but unfortunately for health-related reasons, I actually can’t stand for long periods of time. If the line is moving that slowly, I wouldn’t even be able to stand in it. If the line is moving at a fair pace, you can’t scan fast enough and you end up blocking the line so I can either get separated from my party or end up just letting people pass me. It’s incredibly hard to balance and even when we tried to, it just became too much as we kept seeing more and more crates and even ones we missed due to not looking around enough.
Next, you’ll be memorizing various different IDs and then answer questions asked about it. I’m not sure how many you have to do in order to have “done enough”– but one surely was too little. You have a good amount of time to do this at least and this is probably the step you can work on the most as it really doesn’t require a specific area to be in to take care of something. You just need to be after the crates and before the look-out deck… which is where the next problematic step comes. You’ll be going past four large windows above the Millenium Falcon and again, depending on the line queue, this isn’t exactly the easiest to do. You will be asked questions about the ship and need to answer accurately in order to pass.
Once that is done, it’s time for the actual ride part and your performance matters. Whatever credits you earn from the ride will get you those credits in your datapad and even an achievement based off how much you can earn. At most, if you do everything perfectly, you can earn 13,000 credits, the amount going down based on your performance and how much damage the ship takes. And that is what brings us to our biggest oversight– each “party” for the game consists of six people. And not everyone is likely to want to do the ride just like you. There’s two pilots, two engineers, and two gunners. While you can see if someone may want a different pass than you (Someone is our group had been engineer before so I traded them my gunner pass as I didn’t want to be engineer), you can’t really do anything about having different ideas in mind for what you want to do. In general, there’s essentially these groups of people:
People who want to do everything perfectly
People who want to fail completely
People who just want to enjoy the ride for the heck of it
People who are just there for someone else
The other half of our party mentioned having an issue as one of the pilots was a little kid. A similar situation happened with a friend. There will be kids on this ride. That is absolutely expected. And while I absolutely believe some kids can do a great job, there are also plenty of kids who do not care in the slightest or are only there because their parent/guardian wants to be on the ride. And I genuinely worry slightly on the kids part because someone will absolutely get annoyed and take it out on their party members and that’s kind of the problem with these group teamwork things, especially if you do not know enough people to make a full party.
When we go to Disney, we have anywhere from 2-5 people usually. Not enough for a full group and one of those people would absolutely not go on it due to motion sickness. It ended up being three of us going on the ride with three people we didn’t know. My husband and our friend ended up being in the pilot seats with me as an engineer while our newly met crew members would be the two gunners and the other engineer.
In the end, while I managed to keep my side of the ship at 100%, the other engineer didn’t do as well with 15% damage done halfway through and even more by the end of it. My husband also messed up with the breaks at one point.
The ride is incredibly reflex intensive and the thing is, and unfortunately this is the other big oversight with it, the best chance you have at doing your best is not actually watching the ride at all. Maybe I could’ve done it regardless, but in the end, I had rarely watched any of the ride screen as I was too busy focusing on my buttons. You mainly just have to hit the buttons lit up and switch the appropriate switches as indicated. It’s very easy to read (likely due to the range of ages), but it’s also easy to get caught up in the screen or forget exactly where a button is if you’re not looking at it. And if you’re looking at the buttons, you’re missing what’s going on around you as you’re no longer looking out the window, but at your control panel.
I saw so little of the ride itself because I was so focused on doing well and not letting my crew down which I suppose our other Engineer didn’t care as much about. We had earned about 11,800 Credits, but due to damages, ended up losing over 3,000 in repairs. I actually hadn’t even known we would get them in the Datapad at the time of going on the ride– I just am a perfectionist, but this made me even more disappointed we failed. Especially considering how well we did.
And does this encourage people to go on the ride again? Yes, absolutely, but heck, it’s encouraged by being one of the best ways to earn credits too and when you have a full schedule or not a lot of time, while going on Smuggler’s Run over and over again for an entire day/week sounds fun, it’s not always plausible– not to mention the team situation again. And honestly, I wouldn’t even mind trying a “failure” run where I just… don’t do anything the entire time, but I’d want to actually do a perfect run first. Since the ride varies based off when you “fail” or succeed, I really want to see both paths definitely, but it feels like it’ll be a while before doing either.
Smuggler’s Run was actually one of the last things we found time to do because of a very busy schedule and just trying to find a good time where the line wasn’t too crazy. There is no fast pass for it (and I’m not sure if there is one planned) and to be honest, as it currently stands, I would assume that would take me away from my crate checking and everything involved in the Datapad job so I’m not sure I’d get a fast pass even if I could.
As for the ride just… on its own merits, it was fun and reminded me of essentially a smaller party version of Star Tours– it moves very similar, but obviously, it’s much more interactive.
I had hoped to go on the ride again, if only for another chance at scanning things and a perfect score, but we just didn’t manage to make it back unfortunately. I’m still bummed about it.
Moving onto things I did BESIDES the Datapad minigame, for one, my husband and I both made Droids! Mine is this cute BB Unit who I still have yet to think of a name of. We even got the bag for it too: I also got a personality chip for it and some stickers so I hope to style it up a bit at some point (mostly using the pink to cover up the black maybe…). My husband made an R6-Unit: I kind of wish more could’ve mixed and matched, but I’m not really surprised they couldn’t. I hope we’ll see more ways to customize our droid in the future.
We also stopped by Savi’s Workshop for some very important business.
I had gone the Elemental Nature route which also gave me this lovely pin: There were some pieces I liked from the Protection & Defense type, but in the end, Elemental Nature just kind of fit me more. Though, I wish they still kept the original coloring over the silver for the whale bone:
We also made sure to stop by the markets and I picked up these lovely handmade plushies:
This adorable Mouse Droid (plus a lovely droid group photo): (The top opens and the wheels move so it’s fun to just… move it about and have it old some things 🙂 Plus the lanyard to wear it around your next)
And a Holocron, currently with the purple crystal I had gotten with my lightsaber: 🙂 I also got white and green Kyber crystals. I sure hope they add pink ones.
As for food, I already spoke about the Cantina earlier, but we did our best to try everything at least once. Kat Saka’s Kettle was worth it for the Mouse Droid, but honestly, the popcorn just… wasn’t that great. It was kind of chewy in an almost stale-like way and I don’t know if we just got a bad batch or what, but it just… was not enjoyable.
We, of course, had to try the Blue Milk and Green Milk over at the Milk Stand. Both were enjoyable, but my husband and I both preferred the Blue Milk. I think my only complaint is I would’ve loved a less “smoothie-like” version– just actual milk or even a milkshake. Something more creamy, essentially. We wanted to get the special Milk container, but due to lack of time, we didn’t get the chance.
For breakfast, we had Ronto Roasters and got the Ronto Morning Wrap and Ronto Wrap (which seemed to be a combination of it and the Endorian Chicken Wrap at the time we went, but now seem to be more different things). Despite generally not being much of an egg person, I loved the Ronto Morning Wrap. It was perfect and the Grilled Pork Sausage was amazing. I’d absolutely get it again.
We got Docking Bay 7 Food for lunch (though, my mother had the breakfast and said it was great so I definitely want to try the Bright Suns Breakfast Platter next time we go). I had gotten the Endorian Tip Yip with mashed potatoes while my husband got the Felucian Garden Spread. I really enjoyed mine, though, if I picked, I’d say I liked my Ronto Morning Wrap more. While my husband liked his and I enjoyed my taste of it, it was a lot spicier than expected which took away from the flavor.
To go with our lunch, we also tried the [non-alcoholic] drinks and desserts! The drinks seemed to have been changed a bit since we last went, but both we had were great. As for the desserts, I got the Batuu-bon and my husband got the Oi-Oi Puff. We shared a bit though and both were really great. My husband can’t decide which he liked more, but I preferred my Batuu-bon.
Next time we go, I’d love to try the Batuuan Roast and/or the Smoked Kaadu Ribs. I’ve heard the macaroni and cheese is good too.
And of course, we’re not here to just talk about what we did, I have some pictures of the sights too 🙂 #gallery-0-37 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-37 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-37 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-37 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
The entire area has such high rocks and is set up in such a way that it genuinely does feel like its own planet/city. Even if it’s a bit awkward walking through Toy Story Land to get to it. And all kinds of familiar and new characters will just be walking around. And who knows, maybe you’ll run into a cool spy and have cool spy conversations like the person writing this did 😛
Moving on to the rest of Disney, it was honestly a bit of a mixed trip. In a way, it was less crowded than we expected despite some areas still being rather packed and I ended up being sick two days before we left and the day of. We normally go around this time for the cooler weather, but this year, it was about 90 the entire time, which sure I guess is to be expected when on a planet with three suns and also in Florida but usually it’s closer to 70-80 or so when we go. In the end, I quickly got hit with heat stroke which just kind of murdered me ahead of time for our trip. I’m not going to go into my health issues, but for several reasons, I do very very poorly with heat and with all the construction and things being moved back for the new gondolas, I was not doing well.
Because of that, a lot of our plans got cut a bit. We did our usual Afternoon Tea at the Grand Floridian where we had been hoping to stay before things ended up not working out: #gallery-0-38 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-38 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-38 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-38 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
I had gotten Zanzibar Chai as my tea and absolutely loved it. While I love all the courses, I will admit the scones and sandwiches are my favorite courses. We had planned to do the tea tasting they now have in Epcot at the England Pavilion, but due to me getting sick that day, we ended up having to cancel. I’m really hoping we’ll be able to go next year.
Due to the issues with our hotel stay, what we ended up doing was staying in a Polynesian Bungalow for a night (which was really nice, honestly): #gallery-0-39 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-39 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-39 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-39 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
The view was so pretty and we even got our own little private pool. While the Polynesian isn’t necessarily my favorite hotel, it at least has nice room service and I still love passing this every time we enter the hotel: #gallery-0-40 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-40 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-40 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-40 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
And then switching to a room at Saratoga Springs for the rest of our stay (in which I finally got to accomplish my dream of a two floor hotel room like in Home Alone 2…): Despite the size of it, the beds were not as comfy unfortunately and the pillows were… incredibly flat 😦 Which made sleeping a bit difficult. The room also wasn’t particularly close to a bus stop which meant a decent trek in the morning (and the room was one of the last due to the size) to not be late and an exhausting trek back after already walking all through the park.
While we hoped to do our usual “taste” around the world part of the Food Festival, due to lack of time, it just… did not fully work out. Because of this, we tried to focus on just our absolute favorites (and even then, still tried to narrow it down) for things we’ve had before and prioritized new things we hadn’t tried. I didn’t get many pictures because, again, time was just hard and honestly, I never want to plan a trip with so much overlapping again, but we did get a few pictures of some desserts plus the lovely Boba Milk Tea from China. #gallery-0-41 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-41 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-41 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-41 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
Lion King Panna Cotta
Cheesecake Sampler
The Cheese Crawl Victory Cheesecake
Panna Cotta isn’t usually my thing, but that one was pretty interesting. I liked the left-most cheesecake of the sampler best. And of course I had to do the cheese crawl– the cheesecake for finishing was really good too. And China always has an amazing Bubble Tea lately to be honest.
The only things I didn’t get to try were the Cheese Plate and Popcorn at the new Apple Orchard booth Someone ordered the last just before me and I’m still pretty bummed about it. It was our last day so not much I could do about it.
On the bright side, we FINALLY got to do one of the “special events” at the Food Festival. Because my husband and I don’t drink alcohol, it’s really hard to justify the prices of most of the events as alcohol is always included, but the Parisian Breakfast was one of the more reasonably priced events despite also giving alcohol. To be honest, I was worried we would miss it– there was a hurricane passing through and it was pouring like crazy. We ended up being completely soaked (and being super wet on the freezing cold bus was not fun) and then essentially had to book it from the entrance to Epcot all the way to the World Showcase and to Paris. Maybe if I was less out of breath and stressed out I could’ve tried explaining in French, but thankfully I eventually managed to get out that we had reservations (There has been people who had tried to come in for food and to be out of the rain who had not) and thankfully, they still sat us despite being about an hour late.
They were so nice and it was really good. Also lots of cheese which is always great. I absolutely loved the Hot Chocolate especially– I prefer my hot chocolate more light and creamy than really rich so this was literally perfect and I wish I had the recipe for it. I drank so many cups. And while part of it was so we wouldn’t get pneumonia, it was also because it was genuinely super tasty. #gallery-0-42 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-42 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-42 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-42 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
One other new thing we finally got to do was check out the Na’vi River Journey ride and Pandora in general over at Animal Kingdom. We rarely go to Animal Kingdom as it doesn’t have a lot of indoor areas and I kind of need that with my heat issues, but a lot has been added since we’d last been there. I had managed to get fast passes for the ride as I kept hearing good things about it and I have to admit, while the land wasn’t as amazing as Batuu, Pandora was still pretty cool: #gallery-0-43 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-43 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-43 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-43 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
Unfortunately, I can’t really say the same for the ride. It was pretty and sure, the Animatronic was impressive and very fluid, but it was just very… boring. Even most dark boat rides I’ve been on, there’s usually at least some… speeding up or amusing things to look at or some nice song or even a tiny drop, but this was literally just meandering around in a river in the dark and seeing some of the sights which, like I said, isn’t necessarily bad– I don’t regret going on it, but I don’t understand the hype and I would never go out of my way to do it again (and honestly, I’m not sure I would do it again even if I didn’t have to go out of my way).
On the bright side, we ended up eating at really lovely place– Tiffins. I loved the decor of it and while it was expensive, all the food was amazing. The drinks were really creative too. And that place alone may finally get my family to give Animal Kingdom another shot. And who doesn’t like seeing cute animals? #gallery-0-44 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-44 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-44 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-44 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
We also finally tried out the Frozen Ride which wasn’t too bad, but I do miss the old Norway boat ride. I really liked how the area for the line was decorated though.
In the end, we only went on about four rides total– besides the three mentioned above, we also went on Test Track again with our friend as it was his first time in Disney. I hope Disney will one day add an option to like… 3D-Print these over just getting it on a card. #gallery-0-45 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-45 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-45 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-45 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */
Regardless, we at least got a lot of the big important things done. I just really hope our next trip goes much smoother. And with that, I just have one last thing to say: Til the Spires 😛
Incoming Transmission from Batuu (and the World of Disney) As tempting as it was to try and write this slightly in character, I've been sick these last several days so I'll try and lessen it, especially for those of you who read this blog and aren't particularly into Star Wars (That said, if anyone is here from…
#Batuu#Disney Land#Disney World#Disneyland#Droid Depot#Epcot Food Festival#Galaxy&039;s Edge#Lightsabers#Parisian Breakfast#Smuggler&039;s Run#Star Wars#Star Wars: Galaxy&039;s Edge
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pool of your love, h.hyunjin [ch.1]
word count: 1,135
I felt the breeze ease its way through each strand of my hair as my feet rhythmically hit the hard pavement underneath me. I took a breath of cool air and listened to the birds chirping. I felt the warmth of the sun rest on my forehead and smiled.
Soon, the serenity was interrupted by my older brother, Kim Woojin.
"Y/N, stop acting like you're in a movie, you haven't heard a single word I've said," Woojin said.
"What? You didn't say anything" I responded.
"That's exactly what I mean. Anyway, I asked how you're feeling about your first year of college"
"Oh, I'm fine, I don't expect anything crazy or anything, I just hope Jisung doesn't try to drag me to parties"
"Yeah, we all remember how I had to pick you up from his house party after you threw up" he laughed and I gave him a death glare.
At the word "we", I swiveled my eyes around to look at everyone else walking in the direction we were. They all looked around my age, so they must be walking to school like Woojin and me. Woojin went to a college just a couple blocks away from mine so we both walked to school together. Living in the dorms were just too expensive for our single mother who happens to an alcoholic. Walking with Woojin helped calm me down after seeing our mom in her 'episodes' and she had one almost every night. It was hard to go to sleep at night, I was pretty sure I had insomnia. The comfort of your brother was one of the only things that kept me going. Him and my three best friends, Jisung, Jeongin, and Seungmin. Us four had been friends as far as I can remember but I was the closest with Jisung. We share the same birthday and our mothers were the best of friends so, in a way, we had to be friends. He'd also been through a lot with his family too and I was there for him. Seungmin used to be really shy until he met Felix. They were the best of friends until Felix started dating Changbin in 9th grade. Since then, Felix and Changbin were inseparable, so inseparable they had a ship name: Changlix. Seungmin didn't want to be the third wheel, so I and Jisung took Seungmin and found out he was pretty funny. Then there was Jeongin who joined the crew the latest. He came to our school in the 10th grade after bullying became apart of his daily life. Us three immediately befriended him once we saw bruises on his arm. Now he's the mood maker of the group and always has the brightest smile on. His braces are blinding, like his smile.
After a few more paces and exchanging of words between me and Woojin, I finally arrived at school. We hugged and went our separate ways. I climbed up the stairs to enter the large building and while doing so I pulled out my phone from my back pocket to check the time.
7:32 am.
I’m lucky my locker is close.
Class started at 8 so I only had a few minutes to go to my locker and walk halfway across campus to go to my first class, which was Calculus. I hated math with a passion so I wanted to get it out the way. Besides math, which for some reason included letters and numbers, I also hated anything with vigorous exercise. It was just so much work for me, but the class determined whether or not I pass my freshmen year of college. The first semester only consisted of swimming but the problem was I didn’t know how to swim. Besides math, which for some reason included letters and numbers, I also hated anything with vigorous exercise. It was just so much work for me, but the class determined whether or not I pass my freshmen year of college. The first semester only consisted of swimming but the problem was I didn’t know how to swim. Money was really tight for me right now and the lessons were too expensive. I was making some money at the local diner but it wasn’t enough. I had to figure something out before swimming started for me, which was tomorrow.
7:37 am.
I open my locker, turning the locker multiple times before it actually does so. It's honestly so plain because I barely have a personality. There’s scattered notebooks and pens that I’m pretty sure will somehow disappear by the end of the year. I toss the books from my bag into my locker and get a handful of pencils. I close the locker door and I’m met with a human squirrel by my side. It’s Jisung.
“Hey, Y/N, how are you?” he asks.
“I’m good, just hungry, I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Have you?” I ask
“Yeah, I had to get up early to go to JYP” he responded.
Jisung had been a trainee at JYP Entertainment for a couple of months now. He’s a rapper and he’s in a trio called 3racha but he wants to do more. I believe he can do it, but I can already see a change in him already. He’s so tired all the time and never has time to go out anymore. I’m not mad at him because he’s following his dreams, but things are just...different.
“Wow, that’s the third time this week, how are you feeling? Wanna go with me to the cafe?”
“I’m okay. I wish I could but I have to be somewhere right now. Sorry, I’ll catch you later” he says while running off.
I call out for him but there’s no response. He’s gone already. With that, I started making my way towards the campus cafe, which was around the corner.
I pushed open the cafe door, throwing my backpack over my shoulder for what felt like the 200th time and made my way to look at the menu, hoping I could get something nice for $5 or less. I see the server motion that I’m next in line and I order an everything bagel and orange juice, which was exactly 5 bucks, so I was ecstatic. I moved to the side to wait for my items and out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone. He was tall, muscular, this being obvious due to the muscle tee he was wearing. I looked at his bleached hair and then I realized who it was. It was at this moment, I knew I was staring at him. It was like seeing a fragment from my past, one I had put behind me and thought would never reappear, but it’s standing right in front of me.
It’s my ex, Chan. And he’s staring right back at me.
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Penultima Raving (KH III Spoilers)
No, I haven’t finished the game yet.
I must be near the end, as I’ve ended up in the crazy windmill world from the opening sequence, but as there was quite a bit that happened in the short span of story progress I made today, I decided against waiting ‘til the finale to do another write-up.
Where I left off last time was Sora piecing himself together - literally - and then proceeding to rescue everyone but Kairi in the various Disney worlds. That Kairi didn’t need rescuing, but was in fact keeping Sora from fading away, and was there to guide him back to the realm of light, was a great idea. The line “you’re safe with me” was wonderful, and a good start to a pay-off on her promise to be the one to keep Sora safe this time. But a great sequence in isolation can’t achieve its full potential impact when the character arc that it’s a part of is so neglected prior to that point. And as for the follow-up to that moment...well, let’s come back to that.
I feel torn here, because there’s quite a bit in this section of the game that’s brilliant in concept and beautiful to look at. If the execution weren’t so spotty, then this post would be much shorter, and much more of a SQUEE! in text form.
Going point by point:
- The cutscene when you enter the Keyblade Graveyard the second time, opening in the same way as the first, was a bit confusing but not a bad idea. But having Terra defend his friends against Terranort was. If I’m just starting to get the hang of how the Xehanort Horcruxes and Sora’s “host to three hearts” business all work, I still can’t figure out how Terra’s heart relates to his possessed body. More importantly - after Sora goes through the hard work of rescuing everyone and turning the clock back, having another character rush in to claim the Hero Moment leaves him feeling like a bystander in his own story. This isn’t a new problem in this level; Sora was a glorified bystander in the two Disney fairy tale worlds. Other characters pointing out how special and important Sora is throughout the game, besides being annoying and actually undermining Sora’s special qualities, make it all the more obvious when he gets left out of important action.
- Surfing the Keyblade stream is fun, but it’d be more fun if the combat didn’t just amount to hitting a single button in rapid succession, and if it wasn’t made confusing as hell with a random shout-out to the mobile game.
- The multiple Demon Towers surrounding all our heroes made for a very dramatic visual and a formidable sense of menace. It’s a shame I never got a chance to see how challenging they actually were, because this entire sequence is left as a cutscene. I imagine there are serious technical challenges to putting together a battle where Mickey, Riku, Aqua, Ven, Kairi, and Axel are all battle partners to you along with Donald and Goofy, but this just makes me think again that a toggling system that let you battle as members of various parties would be a great solution.
On the other hand, this sequence gave us Master Yen Sid casting his Fantasia magic all over the place, and that was a truly unexpected pleasure. I don’t care much for him being a Keyblade Master on top of being a wizard, but seeing him be a wizard was amazing. Now all we need is a Sword in the Stone world where Merlin can cut loose.
- Splitting the party up and leaving Sora to find them in a maze is a great idea, as is pairing enemies that were formidable bosses in their own right together to face him. I didn’t find any of them that much of a challenge, but I think I’m overleveled (spent a bit too much time having fun with the ship battles in the Caribbean, I think.) The bigger problem with these battles was the pacing, with cutscenes interrupting the gameplay entirely too often. Each of the villains is given an almost-identical death sequence, and with pretty much none of them being likable (or even memorable in some cases), the efforts at giving these moments some pathos, and the attempts to create moments between the dying and Sora, all fall flat.
- Did I miss something about there being two Replikus? I have been so confused about this ever since the Big Hero 6 level. The one running around being an evil Organizer was confusing enough, but another one living inside Riku? And being able to spontaneously emerge from his body to neutralize the evil one and leave behind an empty replica for Namine, who is also in this game by the way? The fuck?
- This whole sequence serves as a great illustration of the problems that come with having too big a cast. Terra gets his Hero Moment back in the Graveyard (and virtually the same one in the maze), but he gets written out of the action pretty quick. Aqua and Ven do too, as do Axel, Mickey, Riku, Kairi (still not back to her yet); all the Keyblade Wielders of Light get shoved out of the way rather unceremoniously unless the time for their one brief flash of brilliance (if they even get one), while the bulk of the story is driven by the antagonists. But as I said, the members of Organization XIII are still not very interesting, and there are too many of them for any one to stand out.
- What the fuck is Xion doing back here? She barely made sense as a character in 358/2 Days, but her death was one of the very last to have any sense of permanence, and to give the concept any meaning in this world. That’s now undermined even worse than it already was. On top of that, it seems obvious to me now that all those conversations between Ansem and “Ansem” that I thought might be alluding to Kairi’s part were actually about this blank slate of a character.
- And now we’re back to Kairi.
Xehanort cutting her down didn’t surprise me. I’ve been expecting something like this to happen from early on in the game, though I wasn’t sure whether it would be Sora or Kairi who was killed. In part, this is because I stumbled on some sad fan art that, though lacking any description or anything to tell me that it was a moment from the actual game, was tagged “spoilers” and made me nervous. A bigger tell for me was the fact that most of the Disney movies used have a moment of sacrifice for a loved one. Meg shoves Hercules aside, and Herc in turn offers his life for Meg’s; Eugene gives up his chance to be healed to free Rapunzel from Mother Gothel; Anna rushes forward to take a blow for Elsa; and Tadashi and Baymax both sacrifice themselves in Big Hero 6. At World’s End also sees the lovers Will and Elizabeth cruelly separated by Will’s death, with Jack sacrificing his chance of immortality to give them some measure of happiness.
Between that, and all the taunting by Organization XIII, there was a sense of foreboding early on in my play-through that something was going to happen to Sora and/or Kairi, and for all the missteps in the handling of their relationship over the years, those kids are still cute as hell, so I was emotionally invested. But then, in each of the worlds where a death or sacrifice happens, no connection was made by Sora, or any other character, to him and his bond with Kairi. In previous games, moments of much less importance would set him or someone else off, but not here. In some cases, that makes sense (Sora wouldn’t even be aware of the sacrifices in Big Hero 6) but for those moments that he literally bares witness to, it seemed very strange. While that was something of a relief, as it made any potential death seem less likely, it was also annoying, as I’d given the game credit for selecting worlds with the same thematic idea as a neat bit of foreshadowing that seemed destined to be an unfulfilled coincidence.
Then, when Kairi leads Sora back to the realm of light, Sora has a brief flash of Eugene and Anna’s sacrifices, and the connection was finally made. (Will’s death gets left out of the count for some reason.) It was very little, very late in the game, but it was something, and I started expecting a death again. But this was after the neglect of Kairi’s character and of her relationship with Sora became apparent, and the emotional investment did not return - at least not in full force.
It is rather cliche, killing the heroine (or letting her die) to motivate the hero, but that’s not a reason not to do it if it can serve the story and be executed effectively. Given how important Sora and Kairi are to each other, it’s the ultimate extreme that you can take with their arc. So I can’t object to the idea out of hand. And had Kairi been kept a prominent presence throughout the game and her training as a Keyblade Wielder made apparent and meaningful, her being cut down after demonstrating skill and bravery would have made for an extremely powerful moment.
That’s not what we got.
What we got was everything I objected to in my last post about Kairi, with a vengeance, in this entire section of the game. While I didn’t have the same experience of her being an incompetent battle partner that others have (she even pulled off a quick heal in a pivotal moment), she (and Axel) could have been removed and I wouldn’t have had any more trouble with those bosses. Of all the Seven Lights, Kairi’s consistently the one with the least screen time and the least to do in the cutscenes. The way Xemnas and Xehanort handle her, she’s reduced to a prop, a passive object. And when the moment of slaying comes, it lacks the dramatic flare and emphasis that was given to the deaths of literally every single member of Organization XIII, or to the revivals of Terra and Xion. This - the death of our supposed tritagonist, who is the prime motivating force for our hero and who plays a vital role within this fictional universe as a Princess of Light - is quickly tossed out and moved past.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this is not about Kairi being a favorite character of mine (until she’s developed more, I can’t call her that.) This is a character who is supposed to be important. Not just important, but central. You can’t maintain the credibility of that idea if you leave this character sidelined for game after game after game, and only ever trot her out for when the plot requires something to happen to her. Again, the moment where Kairi tells Sora “you’re safe with me” is a good moment. Sora’s cry of “why her?” is striking; the implication is, basically, “out of all my friends that you could have killed, she was the one I would choose to save,” and that is a powerful moment. But moments can’t cut it on an arc this important, not after three games disregarded it and this one spent nearly all its time on the convoluted mess of the villains’ scheming.
That no one in the development process of KH III (to say nothing of the games between it and II) ever realized this, or recognized the problems that it would cause at the climax of this, the culmination of the entire series up to this point, is truly baffling, and I can’t imagine that there’s any way that the story can dig itself out of this mess in the short time remaining on the game.
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It’s You and Me
Prompt: Hot/Cold/Seasons/Holiday
Ship: Reddie
Rating: E (some angst but mostly not)
Warnings: None.
And tag @itfandomweek
A03
Richie fell in love along with the seasons.
Summer was hot and lively, full fun and excitement. They were just kids, looking for shelter from the heat in various activities. Their favorite was the quarry, the cool water soothing their scorched skin, the weight of the word disappearing, allowing them to be free from the shackles of their shitty town. It was here the Richie first noticed the flutter of his heart, one sunny afternoon in the summer between his junior and senior year of high school. The losers had gathered as they did, splashing one another and yelling obscene things that would echo between the space where their friendship lay.
It was easy to forget the hormones and changes that ravaged bodies, the murky water hiding their lanky limbs and awkward teenage posture. Every now and then Richie would see it, whether it be the swell of Beverly's bosom, or the striations in Mike’s toned biceps, he would catch glimpses of their age, a fleeting reminder of the years spent together.
One by one, the others left leaving two lone Losers to their own demise. The sun was settling in the west, threatening to end their fun. Although never spoken, they knew neither of them wanted to return to their home for fear of the truth that stained the walls. Instead they stayed a little longer, laughing a little louder and floating a little closer. Richie would make a crude joke and Eddie would respond with a playful shove or an insulting remark. It was easy with Eddie, easier than the others and when their were alone it was as if the world melted away.
They finished the day by sitting at the edge of the quarry, feet dangling off the edge and shoulders touching. Silence stretched between them, comforting and welcomed. Every now and then Richie would steal a glance, admiring the way Eddie’s jaw sharpened just below his cheek or the way his neck met his shoulder. His stomach would knot whenever Eddie would catch him, both of their faces flustering from unspoken embarrassment.
“My mom wants me to stay in Derry after graduation.” Eddie muttered, the smile fading from his face. “Says if I move away she can’t take care of me anymore.”
“Well what do you want to do?” Richie asked, the hairs on the nape of his neck rising as Eddie licked his lips. “Do you want to stay in this shit hole after high school? Are you really going to deprive the world of the wonderful Eddie Spaghetti?”
Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, “You know I hate it when you call me that.”
“No you don’t.”
The small boy never corrected him, instead sliding his palm across Richie’s and intertwining their fingers. It hadn’t been the first time they had held hands, but this seemed more intimate, more precious even. This moment was just between the two of them and no one else, just Eddie and Richie sitting at the edge of their childhood unaware of the fleeting season that would leave them in a cloud of of unspoken feelings and lingering stares.
Because summer may be hot and lively, full fun and excitement but it was also fleeting and unforgiving to those who held on too tightly.
----
Autumn was calm and chilly, full of changes and new things. Richie spent his first day at UCLA alone and afraid. People here were different than the ones back home, more intimidating and confusing. He had gotten lost, missed the first half of orientation and managed to insult his roommate in the first five minutes of meeting him. Never had he felt so worried, he was confused by the adaptations that he never asked for in a University that he had dreamed of attending. All of the Losers had separated, Bill heading overseas, Mike to New Haven, Stan to Florida, Ben and Beverly to Colorado and Eddie to New York.
For the first time since he was five years old he didn’t have a single friend to meet up with, to complain to when times got hard. So that’s why he was currently sitting on his bed, phone in hand wallowing in his own self pity. Instinctively he dialed the number he had memorized on the plane ride here, his heart pounding along with ever ring. For a second he was afraid there would be no answer, but then-
“Hello?”
“Hey Eds!” Richie breathed, his stomach settling and chest aching. “Long time no speak!”
“I talked to you before I got on my flight ten hours ago.” Eddie shot right back, his tone unamused and flat. He sounded so tired, and Richie could tell that he was barely hanging onto the conversation. There was a yawn on the other end, “What’s up trashmouth? What’s wrong?”
Richie forced a chuckle, “How do you know there is something wrong?”
“Because I know you better than anyone else.” Eddie replied easily, the reality of his words making Richie’s breath hitch. “It’s your first day at college, I know for a fact everyone is partying and getting wasted and you are calling me instead. Don’t you have better things to do than to ring up little old me?”
Richie couldn’t stop the grin that began to curl at the corner of his lips, his hands gripping tightly onto his cellphone. “I will never have better things to do than to call my best friend.” And he meant it, truly and honestly. Leaving his friends was hard, leaving Eddie was agonizing. They were the final two to depart, spending the last of their time together, blissfully unaware of what was soon to come, or at least pretending so. There was another yawn on the other end and suddenly Richie felt guilty for calling his friend so late. “Hey Eds?”
“Yeah Rich?”
“Do you think-” He paused, the words teetering on the edge of his tongue, as if afraid to take the plunge. Releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Do you think we are all going to be friends, even after all this time apart?”
“What the Losers?” Eddie asked.
No. Us. “Yeah, the Losers. We are spread across the world now, how are we going to stay in touch, how are we going to see each other?” Breathing suddenly became hard, his lungs deflating and struggling to refill. The weight of the word was crashing onto his shoulders, his head was spinning and his mind was fleeting. “What if I made a mistake leaving, fuck I pissed off my roommate in only five minutes and I don’t have anyone to talk to and soon you are going to get new friends and you’re going to forget me and-and-and we are never going to see each other because we will have our own lives and I’ll be alone and we never got to-”
“Richie.” Eddie shouted through the receiver, stopping the vomited words that Richie didn’t know he had. “Take a deep breath.” Richie struggled with this, the air coming to him in ragged spurts. It was all too much, he tried to focused on Eddie’s soothing words, his instructions like bells to his ears. “That’s it, in and out. In. Out. In-good, that’s good.” Soon things began to calm down, the room cooled, the air thinned and he was brought above water. “Listen to me, and listen to me good Richie Tozer.” Eddie said sternly, unaware of the tears that were now streaming down the tashmouths face. “We will be friends no matter the distance or time. I could not talk to you for the next four years and I would still drop everything and meet you anywhere. What we have isn’t that fragile that it can’t take a hit like this, okay? Everything will be fine, it’s your first day so give it time. Soon you’ll be calling me about the girl you banged in the Starbucks bathroom.”
Richie laughed, wiping at his wet face. “I want to believe you Eds, it’s just-”
“Then believe me.” He cut, not harshly but rather sharp. “The Losers will still be the Losers, you will still be Richie and ��no matter what, you will never be alone. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”
“Yeah when you got us chased by Mr. Johnson when he caught us stealing his garden gnomes.”
“Okay, have I steered you wrong in the past ten years?”
“No.” Richie breathed, biting his bottom lip. “No you haven't.”
“Exactly.”
“Eddie?” Richie whispered, his heart aching as he closed his eyes and let out a hot breath. For a single second it felt like he was there in New York, watching his friend pace the room while he spoke just like he always did. Any moment now he would drink his herbal tea and crawl into bed, sleeping in the fetal position with a pillow scrunched under his head. He knew Eddie better than anyone, and that was what hurt the most. “I love you.” The words were sweet on his lips, leaving a tingling sensation there. Everything was sore, including his bandaged heart. It took a few moments but Eddie’s response was there, clear as that memory of them at the quarry.
“I love you too.”
Richie cried.
Because autumn was calm and chilly, full of changes and new things but it was also distant and unkind to those who feared the reaper.
---
Winter was soothing and cold, full of wonderment and thrill. It was Christmas Eve and the Losers were crammed into Beverly and Ben’s one bedroom apartment, chugging eggnog and exchanging cheap gifts. Well, all of the Losers except one. Richie was having a hard time getting into the spirit of the season, the pressure of finals and expectations heavily weighing down on him. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to be here, having bought his ticket before finding out his best friend wasn’t able to make it. Now here he was, around people who loved and cared for him and all he could think about was what was missing. Excusing himself he stepped out for a much needed smoke, walking out into the snowing Colorado street with a shiver and curse. It was beautiful out, even he had to admit, and yet he couldn’t muster an ounce of appreciation for it.
The nicotine soothed his jitters, filling his lungs with the deadly poison. It wasn’t enough, but Richie figured it would just have to do. Leaning against the brick wall he sighed, trying to remember a time he felt so lost. Nearly three years into his degree and he was now wondering if it was all worth it, if the studying and late nights would be worth the meaningless paper. Maybe, maybe not but he did blame it for the gaping hole in his heart. Lifting the death stick to his lips he inhaled, the smoke strialing form the end, dancing with the blistering wind before disappearing forever.
“You know smoking causes cancer right?”
Richie’s eyes shot open, surprised to see the small bundle standing before him. His nose was red, his eyes wide and judging. Those lips, plump and moist, were turned up into a knowing grin. He wore way too much clothing, including a puffy, adorable hat that hid his chocolate curls. Dropping the cig, Richie bolted forward and pulled the shorter boy into a bone crushing hug. “Fuck Eds, I didn’t think you were coming.” He whined into his friends jacket. “Bill said-”
“I was able to switch clinicals with another classmate and I caught the last flight out.” Eddie explained, his grip on Richie's leather jacket just as tight and needy, speaking volume. “I wanted to surprise everyone, did it work?”
“Shit yeah it did!” Richie replied happily, prying away and glaring down at those big doe eyes. “It’s a Christmas miracle!”
Eddie scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. “Okay, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would.” He muttered, dropping his hold on his friend and placing a much needed step between them. Instantly he felt bare and exposed, wishing he could pull Eddie back in without drawing suspension to himself. Shoving his hands into his pockets he grinned, shaking his head and laughing. “Eddie Kaspbrak, in the flesh.”
“Richie Tozier, in the thinnest thing he could find.” Eddie shot right back, biting his bottom lip. “Honestly, don’t you own a hat?
“I live in California my dear, this is the warmest thing I could find. Typically I’m in shorts and a t-shirt.” There was a heavy implication that came with his explanation, something that tainted the air between them. Eddie was here now, but soon he wouldn’t be and that was the tragedy of the Christmas season. Swallowing his emotion he punched his friend in the shoulder, playfully lightening up the tension.
Eddie snorted, returning the banter. They stood there for a second, the tension like dust in the air. Looking up towards the lit window Eddie frowned, the snow gathering on his long lashes, and it took all of Richie's strength not to brush them away. “They are all up there huh? This will be the first time we have all been together since high school graduation.”
“I know.” And he did, because despite his best efforts this was the first time he had seen Eddie in three long years. Sure they called each other, texted every now and then but that didn’t replace actually being with someone, really being with them. It was like stepping into a dream and all he wished he could do was hold on forever. “It’s crazy right? We are all friends after everything is said and done.”
“I told you.” Eddie smugly said, shimming his shoulders. “I’m always right.”
“Yes, you are.” Richie whispered to the sky, smiling at the warmth in his chest.”Even I must admit.”
“So tell me Tozier,” Eddie playfully cooed, rolling on the balls of his feet and grinning. “You got a pretty little thing waiting back in Cali for you?”
Richie’s heart sank into the gathering snow below his feet, swearing the pain into the concrete. Dropping his gaze he fought the frown that threatened to end their easiness. Swallowing thickly he forced, “Yeah, I-uh actually do.”
Eddie blinked, his face faltering for just a second before turning upward into a forced emotion. “Oh really? Found someone that would put up with your bullshit huh? That’s awesome!”
“Uh-yeah her name is Christine, she’s a science major at UCLA” It all tasted sour on his tongue, so weighted and wrong. He shouldn’t be talking about this, this was small talk he made with meaningless people, not Eddie. Never Eddie. “We’ve been together for about a year now.”
“So it’s serious.” Eddie said, sounding surprised. “God damn, this woman must be pretty amazing to get Richie Tozier to commit.”
She has nothing on you, Richie wanted to say but knew he couldn’t. “She is, she wanted to come along and meet everyone but her parents have do a big thing for Christmas and you know how it goes.”
“Yeah, I do.” Eddie whispered, making Richie’s bones shake and gut knot. There was something else he was going to say, his mouth opening to speak but the words refusing to come. Slamming his jaw shut, he only shook his head, grinning mostly to himself. “God, Richie Tozier. I can’t believe it’s been this long.”
“Too long.” Richie replied..
The door swung open then, and there was a squealing noise as Beverly jumped the steps of her apartment and pulled Eddie into her arms. This was followed by the rest of the gang, essentially stealing the small Loser away from Richie. They wouldn’t get another moment alone the rest of the holiday and Eddie would leave without knowing the bitter truth that Richie held in his heart
Because winter was soothing and cold, full of wonderment and thrill but it was also lonely and depleting for those who seeked something untouchable.
----
Spring was warm and inviting, full of rebirth and overcoming. Even during one of the most important moments in Loser history Richie still managed to dig himself into a trench. There were voices on the other side of the window, talking and laughing about the upcoming events and all he wanted to do was steal a smoke. Sixteen hours in and the event was in full swing, guests arriving by the dozen, all flocking to the wedding of the century. It was only the rehearsal dinner, the pressure rising with the moon.
Breathing in the smoke he cherished the feeling, it had been over a year since his last cigarette and it didn’t remember it tasting this good. The kick had been a compromise with his girlfriend, a effort to ease their problems but it hasn't worked because they didn’t work. She was merely been a placeholder, someone to keep him warm at night while he sorted out his life. Two years out of college and he had landed the job of his dreams, essentially killing his relationship where it had stood. Christine had been good to him, but she wasn’t the love of his life.
That person had a hold on him that couldn’t be explained.
There was a slam of a car door, followed by a screeching, enraged voice. “-know what? Fuck you too asshole, take your money and shove it right up your homophobic sphenter!” Richie could feel his throat clench, the air in his lungs vanishing as he trudged through the brushes to get a better look.
Sure enough there was Eddie Kaspbrak, standing in suit and tie with his face redden in what could only assume to be anger. He hadn’t changed much, and yet all Richie wanted to do was memorize what hadn’t been there the last time he had seen him, over three years ago. The car sped away, it’s tires crying out while the short man shook his fist in the air and shouted absolutely obscene things.
Even flustered and pissed, he was still the most mesmerizing thing he had ever seen. With a huff and curse Eddie grabbed his suitcase and readjusted his tie, bouncing on the balls of his feet and glancing at the entrance with furrowed brow. He looked on edge, even from afar, the nervous tick Richie had grown to love coming into play as Eddie ran his slim fingers through his hair, ruining it forever.
It was all Richie could take and his feet carried him before his mind could catch up, stumbling from his place in the brush and onto to the black asphalt. Eddie stopped in his tracks, meeting Richie's gaze and stopping the world under him. They stood there for a moment, taken in one another until Eddie broke into an award winning grin making Richie’s blood run cold. “Well look what the cat dragged in, been spying on me have you?”
Automatically his mouth answered, “”I was just trying to get a better look at your mother.”
Eddie laughed, actually laughed at the overused joke lie if it was the first time hearing it. His lips curled over his teeth, the warm and inviting rumble coming from his chest and floating into the air like balloons. Richie wanted to pull him close, to tell him everything he had kept to himself over the years but kept his distance, knowing the moment they touched he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Jesus Eds, it’s not that funny.”
“It is because it’s really you.” Eddie replied, this laughter dying down into a small chuckle. “It’s you and it’s Ben and Beverly’s wedding and just-” He sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “God damn I can’t believe I’m actually here.”
“I can’t believe you are here either.” Richie whispered, unable to hide the want in his tone. His heart ached, his stomach flipped and there was a second he thought his pulse had stopped. “I’ve missed you so much.”
That was when they were caught, pulled apart by Bill’s strong hug and Mike’s loud announcement of the last Losers arrival. Eddie was dragged inside to meet the rest of the group and that was the last time Richie was able to speak to him until after the bride and groom kissed, married after over a decade of love and commitment. It had been beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. Tears were shed, and cheers were shouted as the two ran down the aisle hand in hand.
The reception was decorated with freshly bloomed flowers, filling the room with their sweet scent. Bill made the best man toast, and Richie did his maid of honor duties and embarrassed his friend with horrific stories of their past. With the formalities aside, things began to lull into a sense of calm, people danced, drank and enjoyed themselves, all the while the trashmouth couldn’t take his eyes off of one very gorgeous groomsmen.
Music played in the background, a sweet serenade of their past and as Richie crossed the room he could feel his nerves shift under his skin. Eddie was talking to Stan and his new girlfriend, Patty was her name, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. He was perfect, so perfect that he could die happy knowing he had been so lucky to even know someone like Eddie. As he approached the conversation dulled and Richie couldn’t help the dryness in his throat.
Stan took the hint, wrapping his arm around Patty’s waist. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go congratulate the happy couple.”
Patty pouted, “Wait no, I wanted talk to Eddie about-”
“Later.” Stan whispered, winking in Richie’s direction. The two watched the couple leave, engulfed by the crowd, disappearing completely.
It was Eddie who broke the trance, “So where is Christine? I haven't seen here around and wanted to make the proper introduction since you are a bad boyfriend and refuse to do so.”
The sentiment made Richie smile, even when putting on a show Eddie knew to put others first. He was too good for this world, too good for him. “She’s not here, we broke up last week.” It was like a weight was lifted from his chest, freeing him completely. “She wanted marriage and kids and I guess I just didn’t want that with her.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Rich.” Eddie cooed, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “That’s terrible, you guys had been together for such a long time.”
“Yeah well-” Richie shrugged, smiling down at the confused look in Eddie’s eyes. “What about you? Finally found a man worth settling down with?”
“No.” The short man chuckled, “God no, I’ve been dating but everyone I meet can’t compare to-” He stopped short, the rest of his sentence catching in his throat. Clearing it, he shook his head and looked up to his old friend with hooded eyes. “I’m better off alone, never been one to commit.”
“You were.” Richie corrected, shaking his head. “Once upon a time.”
“Once upon a time is for children stories.”
The music changed, slowing down to an gentle pace. Richie couldn’t help himself, looking to the man before him and whispered, “Care to dance with this old trashmouth?” The words sounded much smoother coming out, sliding between them like honey.
This was their moment. After all this time.
“I thought you were never going to ask.” Taking his extended hand, Eddie allowed himself to be led to the dance floor, placing his hands round the trashmouths neck and shivering when hands were wrapped around his waist. It had been over eight years since they had been this close, touching each other tenderly, with nothing but love and admiration. The words to the song didn’t matter, all that mattered in that moment was the feeling that lingered between them and the moment Eddie laid his head against Richie’s sternum.
They swayed lazily, engulfed in one another wholeheartedly. Richie wanted to say so many things, apologize for lost time but those things never came, what did was Eddie’s soft voice against his ears. “You know I still love you right? After all this time, I have only loved you.”
Richie couldn’t stop the tears welding up in his eyes, his heart filling with happiness. “Oh Eds.” He cooed, holding the man tighter against him. “I never stopped loving you.”
Spring was warm and inviting, full of rebirth and overcoming but it was also frightening and chilly for those who refused to take the plunge.
Luckily, Richie wasn’t one of those people.
He fell in love along with the seasons, and during his favorite season he finally had it all.
#reddie#it#it au#it fandom week#please read#i am so fucking late#like five days#i'm sorry#i'm tyring
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Voltron: Legendary Defender S1
So... I’ve made a few posts about how I grew up with the 90′s run of Voltron, and I have all the GoLion episodes, and maybe I’ve mentioned I have editions of some of the comic runs, and I’m pretty much really into Voltron, y’all. Of course, I’ve been watching the reboot. And I just- I want to rant a little bit about this show, okay? Below the cut is a reaction to the first season (I’ll probably do one for each season) because I wanted to rewatch the series anyway.
But y’all gotta know. It’s long. Because I can talk about some Voltron, y’all.
Okay, first off, if you’ve never watched the 90′s run of the series, or the 3rd Dimension, or anything other than this new run, understand that S1 was mostly me fighting my nostalgia. I’m very familiar with these characters and they generally have the same characterization across incarnations... until this one, and I, for one, am so okay with that. Let’s take a look.
Lance, Hunk, and Pidge: Okay, being introduced to Lance, Hunk, and Pidge first, separate from the others, is a nice change of pace. They also seem younger in a sense; I’m not going to bother looking up ages, but the 90′s run always had the Pilots acting as adults, occasionally goofing off, but serious more often than not. As much soldiers as space explorers. So seeing Lance be excitable, Hunk as a genuine expert in things (not just related to food or lifting heavy stuff), and Pidge as being secretive with ulterior motives- that’s all interesting. You can’t really knock the original run because, hey, it was technically made in the 80′s, imported in the 90′s, and defined by the tropes of that era. Hunk and Pidge, especially, were one dimensional, while Lance often functioned as a background character, except for that one time he went to a special world in blue lion- I don’t remember the episode exceptionally well (gimme a break, I was, like, nine at the time, it was twenty years ago) but I remember he had some sort of love interest on the planet, there was a pouch of seeds, had to save the Princess, but that’s the only time I recall him having a solo journey. All in all, the original trio functioned to support Keith and Allura and to stand as a contrast to Lotor. Having them be the first characters we’re introduced to, aside from allowing them to exist as characters first within this series, worried me that they would just be a vehicle until we could meet the rest of the main cast. I’m pleased to see that their characters continue to grow throughout S1 and that Hunk even gets a somewhat solo journey relatively early on in the series. VLD!Hunk is just so much more of fun now that he has a clear heart and soul to his character. Lance, while I’m not a fan of the flirt archetype, is still pretty fun, and Pidge is just awesome all around. These three possess far more depth this go around, not just establishing that they had lives before Galaxy Garrison, but also delving into their homesickness and ultimate decision to stay.
Keith: This is probably one of the bigger surprises, at least in the first few episodes. Originally, Keith was the cool and calm leader that was a quintessential part of any 90′s team. Now he’s, like, this rebel with a secret cause (which doesn’t come around until S2, but I digress), which makes him feel so much younger in comparison. He’s hotheaded and kinda arrogant (Lance too, but he kinda always was) On the one hand, yeah, he’s not a blank slate to shout the appropriate catch phrase, but it’s weird to see a character I associate with strong, dedicated, almost single minded adherence to what is “right” walking more of a grey line. I mean, original Keith was definitely lawful good, and to see this version’s chaotic good is both refreshing and weird. Also, I just realized it’s never really explained in the show how Keith and Shiro knew each other. It’s clear they have some sort of history but it’s never stated, just kinda hinted at being mentor/mentee and then developed in that vein along the way.
Shiro: ... who are you... while it’s been an adjustment to get used to the other characters, Shiro being essentially a brand new character threw me for the second biggest loop in the first season. He’s very much what I expected of Keith but in a more... subdued manner. Keith at least yelled in cheesy 90′s fashion when he charged into a fight, whereas Shiro’s more apt to be tactical. On the one hand, good to see that leader role filled by a similar archetype... but like... ass in the whole Galra arm thing and the amnesia thing and just... Shiro... who are you...
Allura: Where do I fucking start? Unlike the other characters, the differences between original Allura and this Allura gradually became more evident. At first, she pretty much is the support Princess who cheers on the pilots and worries for them and all that, Team Mom and such, The Chick, all the usual tropes, but as early as the second episode, she’s showing herself as a headstrong, assertive taskmaster, which, honestly, was hilarious. But where Allura in the original run fulfilled the role of damsel in distress more often than not, this Allura is very much a fighter, and she reflects a history of being raised amid war. She’s decisive once she’s made her decision but shows hesitance in trying to balance her father’s and people’s ways with her new reality. Unlike the original, Allura is one of the last remaining members of her race- oh, and quick note? Love her fucking character design. For the first time, she actually looks like an alien, which I adore- and tries to be both the fighter needed to take down the Galra Empire and the peaceful ambassador that Alteans have always been. Her most decisive moments in S1 are when she’d hellbent on saving the Balmerans and the Balmera, and she shows hesitance when it comes to actually trying to tackle the war with Zarkon, and bringing back King Alfor as an actual AI instead of just a vision she sees is a nice touch. Her decision to infiltrate the ship in disguise is also one of the times she’s decisive and that one, again, doesn’t directly involve fighting. I really like how Allura shows the challenges of being both dedicated to peace and being forced into a position where fighting must occur. She’s also equally assisting in getting the castle running again, showing that she’s a talented enough engineer in her own right to actually do the work without Coran’s supervision. She’s smart, she’s strong (lemme tell ya, when she was disguised as a Galra? Fucking, end me, that was beautiful, be honored Shiro that you bore witness to that), she’s certain of the outcomes she wants but shows a very mortal fallibility in attempting to reach them. She’s not just the Princess; she’s so much more, she’s a rebel leader, a fighter, a daughter trying to continue and protect her father’s legacy, her peoples’. Out of all the cast, Allura (alongside Pidge and Hunk) is one of the few characters I don’t find myself missing from the original run. Sometimes, I miss how Keith was the calm one and Lance was supportive of him rather than their constant bickering (it’s funny, don’t get me wrong, just a different dynamic than I expected) and so on, but I don’t find myself missing Allura’s almost Disney Princess archetype from the original. The fact that there’s a somewhat sensible canon reason that she can communicate with the Space Mice, for instance, is nice. Which, on that note...
The Space Mice: Oh God, you assholes are back... thankfully in a reduced capacity but still...
Coran: Okay. This... took an adjustment. The biggest adjustment, honestly. In the original, Coran was the older, calmer, steady hand who helped guide the pilots and Allura through trial after trial. Collected and certain, he rarely faltered, and would chide people for their mistakes the way a father figure would. New Coran is... a complete and utter goofball and I love him. As much as I hate to use the word, I’ll admit I did cringe at the first few episodes, purely because every time Coran was on screen, I was reminded very much of how the original Coran would handle the situation. At least in the other characters, there are shades and moments where they behave just like their original counterparts (Allura with the Space Mice, Keith tackling problems head on, Lance being a bit of a flirt, Pidge using her size to her advantage, Hunk and food, and even Shiro shows some commonalities with Sven) but with Coran, there’s no real moment when he behaves exactly like his counterpart would. He’s always dropping little one liners or making offhand comments that strongly remind the audience that Alteans are an alien race with alien customs and alien words, even when he’s fulfilling his role as pilot/co-pilot of the castle. It took some time to grow on me, and I’ll be honest in that I don’t always enjoy his character the way I’ve come to enjoy everyone else’s, but it is purely because of nostalgia. I’m aware enough to realize that, when I completely check out and don’t think about the original, I do like his character, and I do find his scenes to be funny more often than not. But- like in later seasons- there are times when his antics get to a point where I’m genuinely missing the old Coran. I think it’s mostly because the stakes in this version just seem so much higher- the Drule Empire seems almost harmless in comparison to the Galra- so not having that consistently steady hand is almost a step backwards in being prepared for the fights. However, I’m also acutely aware of why Coran is written in this way in the new version, and that’s because...
Nanny: ... is not fucking here and thank fucking god. Always my least favorite character and she came off as a caring but ultimately flat stereotype rather than a character in and of herself. I realize the new Coran is basically old Coran and Nanny rolled up into one and that impacted my view of the new Coran but, if I had to pick, I’d take new Coran over Nanny any day.
The Lions: I didn’t think I would ever have to do this but I actually have to do this and I love it, honestly. The Lions themselves are actually characters, albeit subtle ones through the course of the show. In the original, the Lions didn’t so much as have their own personalities or ‘talk’ to the pilots; they were just giant mechs. But in this version, they do have their own personalities and characterizations, and it wasn’t until the second viewing of S1 that it started to make sense. At first, I took the Lions’ independent actions- telling the pilots about weapons, moving of their own accord, etc- to be functions of Rule of Cool and simple plot vehicles to advance the action. Now, I’m rethinking that. Coming back with the knowledge of King Alfor being the former Red Lion paladin, I understand why Red brings out the big gun at the height of the S1 climax; it’s not just Keith trying to stop Zarkon, it’s Red, who watched what Zarkon became firsthand, who lost his previous Paladin to Zarkon, who wants to stop him, too. Being in sync like that is what allows the Paladins to unlock the Lion’s abilities. I understand why Black Lion was so eager to connect with Shiro, who arguably made the strongest attempt at connecting with his Lion, and what that meant to the Black Lion; though Black Lion and Zarkon still share a connection, Zarkon is augmenting it with quintessence, and Black Lion is trapped in this unhealthy bond that it wants to break, as evidenced by connecting with Shiro and coming to save him, but is also partially powerless to do so without Shiro’s help. The Black Lion is trying to do what is right and help but is also collared by Zarkon and trying to break free of that bond. The Lions have their own personalities and quirks, but as silent and mystical robotic creations, their characterizations are far more subtle, and I think that’s a super neat way of both supporting the mystical power being built around them within the lore and expanding on the Voltron legend itself. My memory is really fuzzy, but I don’t remember there being a concrete explanation for how Voltron came to be originally. I remember the legend about it being torn apart by a space witch, but that’s about it. In fact, I think early on in the series, it’s implied that Voltron wasn’t five separate parts but a single whole, and then adapted to being five separate parts later, but that could also be a different version as there are some Lion specific roles that seemed to be designed, so I might be getting my continuities mixed up. Bottom line: the new lore surrounding the Lions is fantastic and I love it.
Zarkon & Haggar: I’ll talk about these two independently at a later point- because dear lord do I love what was done with their characters- but in S1, they behave much like I expected of them. Zarkon’s far more serious, to the point, and built up as being both a terribly powerful fighter in his own right as he is a ruthless dictator. Original Zarkon was more... like the original Rita Repulsa, but with slightly less cackling. Again, 90′s cheese, and in spades. Considering the more serious air, this version of Zarkon is everything I expected, but weaving him in as a former ally was a nice turn. Haggar being... well... Haggar also carried with it no surprises, except in the resentment shown by others towards her. In the original, Haggar just kinda did her own thing but was obviously part of the Drules; in this one, the hostility shown towards Haggar is both a function of others’ lust for power and her possession of Zarkon’s favor and the, at that point, subtle disdain for those not of Galra blood. Something I noticed while rewatching is that, at this point, before Zarkon’s been megainfused with quintessence, he’s very calm, logical, and driven, Haggar constantly refers to Voltron as being “ours” when she talks about capturing it, and they have a relatively calm and healthily evil relationship, considering they’re both main antagonists. Zarkon’s not demeaning towards Haggar in S1. As the seasons progress, and more quintessence is used on Zarkon, this changes drastically, but here in the first season, it’s very easy to see why and how Zarkon’s empire grew to this point over the past 10k years. As Voltron begins to liberate planets, however, Zarkon and Haggar’s bond begins to erode, and I think it’s a very nice touch to show both how things ran smoothly before Voltron returned to the fight and how things started going terribly wrong as both the resistance grew and the bond began to deteriorate.
Okay, so now that the characters are out of the way, there’s something I want to address about the first season that is probably a big difference for me versus a fresh viewer, and that’s pacing. I'm really not sure how it came off to a new viewer but, as someone who’s seen the ‘find the lions, form Voltron for the first time’ schtick done several times, the fact that they’d managed to do it in 2 episodes was such a relief. Compared to the first, like, ten episodes of the original run that it took just to get to Arus, it felt like a lot of the filler was trimmed down. In fact, almost all filler is absent; there’s not a single episode in the first season that doesn’t contain something interesting and/or plot related. Also, this run has a plot, as opposed to the monster-of-the-week style of the original run. Imagine my surprise- I sometimes forget that shows nowadays actually do have plots rather than just a gimmick.
All in all, I had intense mixed feelings over the first season. On the one hand, I could appreciate the new and inventive directions and designs for the characters and the universe. On the other hand, however, I loved the original run and the intense bout of fighting nostalgia really made enjoying it difficult. On the second run, though, I can honestly say I enjoyed the first season much more. In a lot of ways, it feels like canonized fanfiction of the original series- an AU that really focuses on fleshing out the Voltron universe- because of all the little nods and renamings to reference the original material.
Also, hands down favorite thing introduced in S1? Actual fucking aliens. I... honestly can’t remember a single “alien” race in the original that didn’t look straight up human, aside from the Drules (Galra) and even then, censorship made more than half of them robots. So, like, seeing actual aliens with alien customs in this universe is just, 10/10, excellent improvement.
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Part Three of my “Milah Should Have Been Hook” rewrite
Part One here, part two here, in case u like care but i think there’s literally two other people that do so
Idk how I would even begin to fix Hook's story after Cora dies.
I mean at the very least, I set it up where she's going to know that Rumples is still alive, so u guess right off the bat she isn't as fucking useless.
I guess if I were a depressed pirate lady who is on a mission to murder my ex husband, get my son to love me, and figure out how the fuck I brought my lover partially back to life, the first thing I'd do after my plan gets fucked up and my biggest ally gets murdered.....I'd probably go get my other allies?
So that means, in my story, breaking Ariel out of jail and finding Smee (bc Smee is loyal and on her crew bc absolute bullshit we don't get any smee/hook interactions beyond like two scenes). If she's successful at it, that means she actually manages to accomplish finding herself new allies unlike hook in the show who gets jumped by two ordinary humans who have like minimal fighting skills and convinced into fighting on their side (like...........it's not just Hook who I have this problem with, it's that every single god damn villain on this show is a freaking weenie baby except Cora and sort of Ingrid and I would like for all of them to show a little more competence. Like. Just a little, miniscule amount).
ANYWAYS ok I guess Milah would probably use August as a cover, get people focusing on him so she can break into the Sheriff's station and get Ariel back, then sends Killian to look for Smee (idk what August is doing at this point bc obviously I'm revamping a lot of his story bc it was racist and a fucking cop out but I'm not sure exactly of details so. Idk he's distracting in *some* sort of way). They take out the guards Emma posted and move the Jolly Roger someplace harder to find. This gets us to Lacey and honestly - Milah is probably gonna thrive here? Rumples is not doing himself any fucking favors and acting just the way she's been saying he is - violent, rotten, and cowardly. And he's already skating on thin ice here with Neal so a whisper here and there from mama is gonna go a long way. Now, I think she's gonna overestimate Neal's patience, in the same way Rumples overestimated it in these episodes as well. He's not looking for them to slowly get better, he's looking for them to already *be* better. Milah threw showing she's changed out the window when she tried to kill Rumples, and now Rumples throws it out the window with Lacey. So I'd have the episode end where he throws it in both their faces (separately tho, they're not ready to go toe to toe again) and then tells them to fuck off.
Milah teams up with Tamara and Greg but she goes to them herself because she figures out they’re Up to Something. She figured out they’re trying to travel and she hints at where but doesn’t outright tell the audience, only says that if anyone could help her with Killian, it’s “him.” and she’ll help (there’s no torturing Regina because that was unnecessary. They do capture her but she’s left mostly unharmed).
Tamara knows about the magic and Neal is fully aware she’s been researching how to get back to her brothers so he thinks nothing of her sneaking around. Emma is suspicious because of her own Unresolved Issues Surrounding Family and Henry is just sorta along for the ride because why not - he likes Tamara though. A lot. She makes him sad sometimes because he’s a smart kid and he can see very clearly that she used to be optimistic like him and believed in love like him and all of that has faded away with the abuse from Pan and the loss of her brothers and living on the streets with Neal.
By the two-parter, all our villains are left in precarious positions and all are tied to one thing - Henry. Tamara has grown fond of him against her own better judgment, and Regina loves him, and Rumples fears him. The only link left is MIlah, but this one is obvious and comes into play after Neal falls through the portal.
Which - Greg shoots him, not Tamara. He’s pleading and begging, telling her this isn’t the way, using dark magic to fight dark magic won’t help and we see her wavering until Greg takes the shot and throws the bean and drags a distraught Tamara along with him. The finale plays out basically the same but I think in general it feels tenser and makes the hell face turns more dramatic. Regina's is admittedly already v good in the finale so not much to fix there besides pacing earlier on, Milah, Neal’s *actual parent* getting to say that line "the things we do for our children" and then finally abandoning her vengeance to save her grandson, and Rumples putting aside his issues with Milah (he doesn't say that one like about wanting to kill Hook, altho he probably does spend a solid 10 minutes giving her the stink eye) and his fear of powerlessness to save Henry.
They get aboard the ship and then BAM - THEY’RE IN CAMELOT! END SEASON 2
#rani's great ouat rewrite#rani attempts to be creative#milah jones#greg mendell#c: i set my mind to wandering and i walk a broken line#c: i sure as hell ain't lost#killian jones#rumples#i say fear of powerlessness bc i think thats the root of his issue#he spent a lot of time feeling powerless - couldnt stop his father from leaving couldnt get milah to stay couldnt protect baelfire#hes terrified of being put in a position where he cant protect himself or the people he loves#and i would want to properly deal with that trauma instead of just yelling that hes a coward every five minutes#thats not how a proper character arc works guys#HE'S NOT OWEN WE GET A REVEAL NEXT PART OK i think the owen thing did nothing but woobify regina and it was bad and i hated it#so he's gonna be something else still tied to regina but something else#hey when i become a famous author and i have a character with an arc like milah do u think abc will sue me for it since i posted this or nah
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