#why am i constantly falling on my sword for stupid shit
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:(
#i also wish i wasn’t god’s greatest martyr like#why am i constantly falling on my sword for stupid shit#like do i really just love being unhappy????#why do i take every opportunity i can to punish myself#like!!!!!!! what is this ever present guilt and why should i have to put myself through constant suffering in an attempt to absolve it#it’s like i’m allergic to just picking the easy way out#peace is so foreign to me it’s like i can’t function unless i have at least 2 things making me miserable and if i can’t find them#i will CREATE them#something about stability is like so unachievable to me and it’s always me who’s blocking my own blessings#god#i want better for myself#anybody else in these conditions would not be having the problems i am having#my life isn’t BAD#it’s just my own sheer inability to take control of it and live in it#i just let stuff happen to me instead of initiating anything at all & i just do the bare minimum to coast by and then wonder#why nothing improves#when 6lack wrote prblms it was about me .#anyways back to the ever present mental debate of ‘am i just lazy or do i need to be medicated’ lol#an anti depressant would probably fix me i won’t lie
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great okay well i am going to gripe on the internet as is my right about totk
- why are the arrow pad controls slower to flip between weapons like it is noticeably worse
- the circle select sucks so bad i hate it
- i hate fuse its stupid and annoying and attaching shit to arrows is a NIGHTMARE it should not take three buttons for that
- it also should not take that long to get to the manual save option
- i hate ultrahand. i keep fucking firing weapons trying to rotate. i keep getting softblocked in puzzles when stuff gets stuck. why is the rotation INCREMENTAL AND NOT CONTINUOUS
- this is like all the bad shit from skyward sword got wedged into botw. janky motion control and falling all the damn time.
- seriously why are there SO many new things they needed to pick two maybe three MAX. if they just did ultrahand and the upper/lower levels it wouldve been so cool. or just fuse. or ascend and levels. or just the devices and ultrahand. there are like six cool new games wedged in there.
- oh my god the damn devices there are too many to keep track of and they are SO FUSSY
- get me out of these fucking caves
- the menu redesign is so unappealing and having to hit sort three times when i get new items to cycle through is annoying. i do like the l/r page flipping but the giant scrolling list is Tough.
- the teal/orange color story is visually difficult to read for me tbh
- i have never died in a game so much before. im about twenty hours into totk and i game over every 15 minutes. at this point in botw i didnt die anymore except in Big Oopsies. it is NOT FUN to constantly get oneshotted with eight full hearts!!
#anyways these are opinions if u like it then im happy for you#and also happy i got it for xmas and didnt spend sixty dollars on this
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OKAY SO!
My AO3 account doesn't like my phone. This is not new. Many things do not like my phone. But I know amazing fic writers like you appreciate comments so I give you comments on here instead! I will likely copy paste these into ao3 once I get it working again to signal boost over there (and out my ao3 username to you ohmygod. Like I haven't written anything there, but I'm shy and scared and usually comment as a guest). Gush warning, this is just me gushing, oh my land.
First, foremost, and most prominently, I LOVE EVERYBODY'S ACCENTS OH MY GOD!
Especially Marlene being the most aggressive Scottish girl ever, YES! I was reading her very similar to the fanon version of Gloria/Sword from Pokémon. Like, this is exactly the kind of girl who would say the "why are people always tellin babies stupid shit" thing. I can tell I'm going to fucking RELISH every second in Marlene's company. Her just immediately exploding at everyone for anything is so wonderful. My girl is LOUD and PROUD and MESSY and PUNK and I love her.
I love that Peter is a precious chipper little Irish lad. Peter is my baby boy and this has been incorporated into all my headcanons.
Welsh Lily comforting herself in Welsh is so amazing, I adore it. I'm loving the early schisms between her and Snape, whether it be in big ways like the whole blood purity nonsense or in little ways about hiding her accent. It's not a good relationship, and I love that there are really early signs of that even as she's in "he's my best friend in the whole world and would never hurt me mode."
I am loving the dichotomy between characters who like their accent and characters who don't. So informative to how they see the world.
Secondly, OH MY GOSH SIRIUS I AM GOING TO CRY! This poor baby! Like, obviously there's the cruciartus curse issue, but also the amount of emotional abuse this kid has already survived!? The way his first thought about leaving for Hogwarts is "Is Regulus going to be okay?" The way he automatically wants to protect everyone even when he doesn't know them? AUGH MY HEART! I feel like having him be this nervous and unsure of himself is important to making his later dickishness feel a little cathartic and a little earned. He's going to be FANTASTIC to read about.
Also, I love that he keeps falling on his face. Never stop. Never change. Just let him be a clumsy disaster.
I think my absolute favorite thing about the fic so far is Lily and Mary realizing that pureblood wizards are just SO FAR removed from muggles and . . . Reality in general, that they don't even know what racism is. The muggleborns constantly having to explain to these fuckers how the real world works and the wizards being fascinated by and fixated on muggle culture is going to be amazing! I predict that the mesh of these two cultures is going to be something the 70s Hogwarts generation readily embraces and endorses. Blending fashion, music, hobbies, slang, media, teaching each other history, sharing each other's worlds. . .I feel like it's all going to be a big deal, especially with how close this group will get with the looming threat of war and all.
Dear Minerva is a WONDERFUL chapter. 10/10 no notes. Every letter almost perfectly expresses the living situation each of these kids are coming from. Like, I'm actually mindblown by how clever this setup is. You've effectively given us an entire backstory for everyone, given us their mindsets, the environment they were raised in, the things they're going to struggle with most 1st year---all of that very complicated exposition---in a very succinct and entertaining chapter that also gives us McGonagall's perspective on it all. And then sprinkling in that Big Plot Hook early and not telling us who it's from (I'm pretty sure it's Dumbledore) is also so smart. You've literally put all the seeds of everything important right there in the first chapter, and it doesn't even feel like exposition, how did you pull this off?!?!?
I also love that each letter-writer has such a unique voice. That variety is just like sugar for my brain. And McGonogall's reaction being so different for all of them. Just fucking burning the Black's letter without finishing it because it disgusts her so viscerally is a mood and a half and one of the best fic starts I've read to date.
My heart is breaking for Remus too McGonogall, don't worry.
Also, Effie's letter effectively being "Good fucking luck, you're gonna need it" is hilarious. I am so excited for James just being an absolute menace and a total dick.
Speaking of McGonagall's perspective, the perspective switches are GOLDEN! Everything feels natural and coherent, but you still get inside the heads of SO MANY people and I love it. It's so important to because these guys are all fundamentally different from each other and see the world that you basically have to be inside everyone's head to understand their behaviors and interactions.
I'm especially enjoying the cuts back to Lily being something of a stabilizing presence, similar to the way Harry's was in canon. She doesn't know much either, and we get to learn this social climate right along with her.
I love that the Blacks are on just another level of weird, even for weirdo pureblood families, and that everyone talks about it. There's a reason they're called "The noble and most ancient house of black." They're one of the worst pureblood families out there, and it SHOWS. You can feel it in the way everyone watches them, the same way you might watch a trainwreck. And that they're the go-to examples for "Yeah wizards are real dicks sometimes."
I adore that the train is so chaotic. This is what happens when you put a bunch of 11 year old Gryffindors in the same compartments for hours with NO ADULT SUPERVISION (seriously, wtf is up with the wizarding world, there are no adults). It gets messy and passionate and loud and a bit violent. Too many gryffindors, too small space, not enough time, and it turns into a hurricane that is an absolute delight to witness.
The sorting, oh my god the sorting! I find it so fascinating to read this from the different perspectives, because if you grew up in a house like Sirius', then YEAH, the sorting is fucking stressful and the literal worst outcome just happened. My man is a ball of trauma just waiting to start leaking it everywhere, and it is NOT going to be pretty. Contrary, if you're Lily, it's an intense experience, but more exciting than anything else. And then you're Peter and it's super fucking stressful again, but for totally different reasons because most of that pressure is stuff he puts on himself. And Remus thinking he has literally no good options. My god these poor kids.
I really like your characterization of the hat. It's a mentor to these kids. It's impossible not to be when it's going to affect their lives that much and can reach into their heads and see all their thoughts and hopes and dreams and doubts and insecurities and memories. It wants to help. But it's also really prideful and a bit sassy. It's a hat with attitude, and I love that for it.
James just being so obviously and immediately a Gryffindor is hilarious. James is going to be the comic relief and somehow still have the most main character energy of any of these dramatic bitches, I can tell. He's magnetic and it's already sucking me in.
Uhhhh. Last thought, I'm excited for your OCs and exploring the sibling relationships especially. I have 3 older brothers and an older pseudo-sister, and I have a vastly different relationship with all of them. They've shaped me so extremely in ways I can't even articulate, and sibling relationships in media are really important to me too.
I'm loving Raz and Fabian, they're going to be an excellent backdrop of "comic & straight man" for as long as they're around.
Anyway, keep working the absolute dark alchemy you must be practicing to make this so compelling! You're doing great, excellent job, hope I didn't overwhelm you, I do that sometimes, and good luck with the rest of this! Back to my basement now, byyyeeeee!
House of the Rising Suns
Alright, let's do this.
This is for everyone who saw my poll a week or so back, and now chapter 1 of the fic is up and running!
The next one will hopefully be coming in the next week or so given my schedule, I don't want to keep you all long. So cheers! To the start of a journey!
This chapter is in Minerva McGonagall's POV, but the next one will be the true start of the fic (this is my pilot, don't tell anyone). 2k words.
Just all the people who left notes on the poll!!
@whyshouldihaveanam3 @mare-finis @sweetnnaivete @kaze-16 @quietlyhugo @lu-the-loser @loverofmusic18 @v4mvp1le @royallygray @st4rs78 @sspadfoot @jamespottersconverse @cass-black-barnes @amy-harper @wishiwereheather13 @m3ntal-hiatus @supernovasoup @emryyyyyss09 @skittle6 @the-stars-in-between @aletheraej @arggghhhsstuff @xcountingstars
And to the person who I binge read their fic and instantly felt the urge to write (the one who inspired me to start writing it for real): @shootingthe-stars
Thanks guys!
#the marauders era#the marauders#marauders era#the marauders fandom#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#lily evans#marlene mckinnon#peter pettigrew#minerva mcgonagall#marauders fanfiction#house of the rising suns oneluckygoose#mary macdonald#frank longbottom#this is so good#I'm losing my shit over here
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Fourth commandment: honor father and mother
Contain spoilers from the manga.
Old writing of mine. Thought about posting so here you go.
I recently find out that the majority of the fics I have more replogs and comments are avout sadness sooo why not shed sone tears for our bird man this time huh?
He smirked at hearing the sound of you singing in the shower. He had just arrived from work and was greeted by what he loved to hear the most, your voice, his dove's voice
The echo the bathroom made only made him smile more at being able to hear such melodies coming out of your sweet lips.
He would tease you now at them about it. But oh, how it ceased the anciety and pain in his heart on terrible days he would just swallow it up for your sake. Knowing very well that your family life wasn't the best anyway. Not perfect, but was good as you would describe it every now at then with a smile; despite his worried frown whenever that was a fight and affected you so badly to the point you cried over his shoulder at night or morning.
His ears pecked up when your humming stopped and smiled lovingly when the melody of your qorda started to come...
'You left and took, my heart suffocated, and it suppressed my pain, a subtle gesture of loveee~'
A chuckle left his lips. He would never learn where the musics you learmed came from. But it didn't meant it was beautiful no less. He stood up from the couch and took careful steps to hear it more without you knowing it.
'Father. Look at this rain outside ... oh my father, I think the time has come...
aandd dont just, sit there to see and vanish it
the chance that already weaves in the past, oh this little boy's soul just is begging it...'
For some reason... that part, made his heart thump hard on his chest... after all. It did reminded the hero of... him.
His father. The reason why his true name was hidden from the public view and completely erased by the comission. The one that constantly beaten up just for him going into the city just to help others. The man that was a thief, a murderer, a liar... a abuser.
Just when he swallowed up another part of your song came up.
"Oh mother, cover me up with your sacred embrace, allow me to be your son, recreate that thought of a shelter, just don’t leave me alone,
your memory is my calm, swords that pierce into my soul.
like the wind of the desert that is so cold...
How I miss your maternal love and your laughter.
the world only brought me slaughter, I lost that old hope of just being a child,
that the smile never fades, they made me just a weapon..
I am still in the quest to be loved~" the shower sounds stopped as you he heard you sigbh and without him noticing, he stormed out of the roon to close himself on his huge closet, a hand on his mouth as tears threteaned to spill from his eyes at the mention of only blinking them.
Keigo's past was never an easy one... his parents never should be used as a example. His mother did fell in love with a criminal, but that didn't make it easier... she wasn't warm, she wasn't the kind of mother that would just embrace him and help the poor boy feel safe, loved nor protected....
God... she made him go get some money and questioned what were the use of his wings, his quirk... what kind of mother says that to a child that was only trying to help dammit!?
Angry drops of tears strated to fall from his eyes as he controlled the harsh breaths and sobs that threatened to escape beforw his whole body tensed and stopped when he heard the source of his comfort on his adult life...
"Honey? Did you come home earlier? Where are you?" He heard you call and took deep breaths before putting on a smile on his face, a so fake smile that surely you would notice right away.
"Right in the big ass closet dove. I was planning to shower a-anyway." He cursed himself the moment his voice cracked as he desperately picked some clothes to wear as he discarded his hero costume with pure anger.
"..Kei?" He flinched at hearing your voice behind him "Baby is something wrong? Tough patrol, is that?" You carresed his feathers gently and he almost whimpered at how delicately your fingertips brushed against it.
"J-Just a bit. Nothing major." He shrugged and made bee line towards to the bathroom as you stood there in pure worry and confusion at the same time. Never Keigo refused your comfort when you two finally passed that time of getting to know each other in your relantionship.
Frowning, you decided that maybe just a time for himself was best as you picked your favorite and warm pajamas and started to get things started to see if Hawks's mood brighten up for just a bit.
Sadly you knew he was trying way too hard to hide the pain. But the echo of his muffled sobs and curses as he ounched the wall wasn't helping him at all...
Brownies on the oven, Fried chicken already ordered and the most you could do of a nest out of pillows and blankets on the living room right in front of the Tv, already open to choose a movie on your boyfriend's will.
The sounds of the water finally stopped as you mentally prepared yourself as you saw your boyfriend in grey sweatpants and red hoodie, wings and hair all dropey as well as his eyes, him rubbing the top of his hair with a towel until his honeyed orbs widened at the sign of the living room and you cursing yourself for burning your hand at taking out the batch of the brownies out of the oven without protection....
"Fuck..." You hissed in anger before a confused sound left you as a warm and bigger hand grasped yours with care and brought the place where you had burned on his oh so kissable lips.
"Maybe you should have waited a bit. Just saying though." He smirked, but not with the usual glint on his eyes as you frowned but playfully scoffed.
"Excuse me? I am Hawks's girlfriend!" You dramatically proclaimed as he snorted "'The young hero that is way too fast for his own good!', so yeah, I guess I have the right of being a bit too anxious to get the set of brownies I made out just on time, thank you very much."
"And burnt yourself along the way." He chuckled as you showed your tongue at him with a smile but his features soon dropped and looked away from you, in hopes you wouldn't catched.
But you did.
"Whats all this for anyway? Am I geting my ass beaten up for forgetting some day important?" You frowned with a smile as you carefully hugged him from behind, mindfull of his wings as his muscles tensed up a bit only to loose as his scarred hand carresed yours over his chest.
"Cant I just spoil my man for a bit? Especially after a tough day?" You sensed his shoulder getting up and dropping with a watery chuckle as he shook his head in disbelief.
"You didn't have to do all this you know? Is not-"
"Dont." You muttered sternly as you let go of him to get right in front of your boyfriend as you cupped his cheeks "Dont say 'is not a big of a deal' with me Takami Keigo. I know you more than yourself as you once said it. Dont hide things that bother you away from me when you help me just as much with my insecurities and problems, alright?" He looked troubled as his eyes dropped to the ground mainly controlling himself as always but you nudge his gaze back up rubbing your nose against his "Alright?" You asked for the second time as his mouth opened and closed like a fish before giving up and nodding, pulling you to him for him to hide his face on the crook of your neck as he hugged your waist tightly, shoulders shaking.
"Aw my prince..." you cooed as you hugged his neck and caressed his nape "What is bothering you, hm? Is it the comission again pressuring you?" He shook his head as you frowned... maybe it was one of his secret missions he couldn't speak about it...
The inter phone ranged, indicating that the food you ordered was here. Moving away from the hug, Keigo only pulled you back as you frowned but soon noticed a couple of his feathers working their way to catch the money and go pick themselves.
"Kei I would pay myself for those!" You poyted as he only tightened his hold on you.
"Is the least I could do dove... please just at least this let me do it."
"Well.. fine. But you have to get a cool movie to watch. No crappy ones."
"... yeah sure."
Now you were alarmed. Not even a "you're the one who chooses the crap one"s ?.... For All Might, what happened to him...?
"Kei..." you almost whimpered, which catched his attention as he looked at you in concern as he cupped your cheeks in worry which you quickly covered with your own "What's going on? Dont tell me is nothing...please, I can see right through you that something is not right..."
Hawks sighed shakily as his eyes looked at the other direction as well as his hands dropped into your waist to pull you close.
"Sounds stupid but... I heard you singing. Beautiful as always..." he smiled as you contained your urge to squeak in embarrassment "But... I dunno, the lyrics of the song catched me off guard I guess? Speaking of father and mother's love or some shit..." he chuckled dryly as you frowned, catresing the rebel strands of blong hair making their way into his face.
"So it has to do with them? Did they contacted you or something?" You asked softy as you carresed his cheek and was meeted with a shook of his head and a sarcastic chuckle.
"Why would I? She is happy with me far away from her, a nice home to live in... as far for the old man, he..." he sighed heavily "I could care less. Neither of them cared so sometimes I ask myself why the fuck they didn't used the goddamn protection if they didn't want a brat to "ruin" their lifes?!" He sobbed as he clinged to you "he himself made the favor of saying the freacking condom was beaides but he made the mistake of not using it! What kind of dad says that to their kid of six years (Y/n)?! F-FUCKING SIX YEARS! I KNOW I WAS A DAMN MISTAKE BUT DID THEY HAVE TO RUB IT ON MY FACE ALL THE FUCKING TIME?!" Your heart broke in more than two pieces at seing him in this state before you guided him to the make shift nest to pull him down.
"Stop this, Kei-" you shushed him softly as he gulped harshly, gritting his teeth to mantain his tears at bay "If they werent careful, fuck them, this doesn't matter to us. They dont matter. But what they done, it wasn't a fucking mistake. It was a miracle and a blessing. My hero, my boyfriend was born because of these two, so stop saying that you being born was a mistake!" You cried while he stopped grinding his teeth to look at you dumbfounded.
"Your wings saved more people than anyone can count." You whispered tearfully as your hands carresed them before cupping his cheek "You saved more people than anyone can count. You matter not only for me but for a shit ton of people!"
"... you're getting worked up because of this tantrum I threw-" he mumbled only fro widen his eyes at the how you almost screamed.
"Of course I am worked up! Who wouldn't be?! Whenever I have shit to deal with, you get angry at whoever hurted me, so damn well I will get pissed off with or who whatever makes you fell less like the shining bright passionate and beautiful hero that you are Takami Keigo!" You poked his chest angrily before breathing in and out to contain your tears as he finally cracked a toothless smile at your state.
"You... You're so perfect you know that?" You angry face soon vanish at the way he looked at you like you were the solution for all of his problems, like an angel that came to hush all of his dark voices that haunted him at night with nightmares... a look with so much love that almost made you tear up again as a smile cracked into your lips.
"Dammit... love im trying to stay serious..." you hugged and peppered his face with kisses all over until he was chuckling heartless and turning his face enough for your lips to land on his instead of his skin.
You both were breathless as you were on top of him and carresed his golden looks with heart eyes as he closed them with lopsided smile at the pets and all the sweet gestures you did for him, and him only.
"Kei.." he hummed "Seriously, stop thinking about what your parents thought or think of you. They opinion doesn't matter, specially considering who they are and what they done so far... but dont hold hatred either because it only prejudices you, not them." He opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling.
"... i cant actually forgive them. I dont feel I could even if I tried..."
"Im not saying for you to forgive them Kei." You stared at him as he arched one of his eyebrows that you surely need to trim at least tommorow "They are the same thing as the commission if you think about it. Their feelings or opinions towards you doesn't mean anything. Because you, birdboy, are the greatest human being in all world and everything I could even ask for." You smushed his cheeks together causing him to chuckle watery.
"You're gonna make me cry again birdie.." he prosteted heartly as you kissed both of his cheeka then his lips lovingly.
"Then at least be tears of joy, hm?" You hummed as his gaze soften and let tou peck his lips "The food is going to get cold, Im going to grab the plates okay?"
He groaned(whined?) While hugging your waist tighter and pressing his head down on your collarbone "Dont leave now, you're warm..."
"Keigo, you're basically a walking furnace especially with this hoodie, you will live." You giggled when he huffed and looked up at you with a pout.
"My feathers can go grab it then, you stay right where you are. Arent this suppose to be for me after all?"
"You've been gotten lazier every day it passes huh chicken little?" You carresed the apple of his cheeks as he tsked.
"Lazy my ass, I almost never have a day off..." he mumbled before nuzzling on your neck and sighing in bliss.
"Maybe if I pester them enough you can get some... but for now lets just rest here and enjoy the peace and quiet eh?"
"Hmm..." he hummed on your neck, causing vibrations to tickle your skin as you laughed and grabbed the packet his feathers brought, taking a package of nuggets out and almost getting to eat one until a certain bird brain just looked up and opened his mouth.
"You're such a cutie brat you know that?" You plopped the chicken nugget on his mouth as he hummed lovingly before smilling at you one more time.
"First, yeah I think as myself as pretty adorable-ouch!" You snorted at his expression after you pinched his ribs "Second... I love you.. so much." He mmurmured, face getting back on the crock of your neck.
"I love you more..." you kissed tenderly his temple and carresed his back while laying down on the huge amount of pillows.
"I love you more." He grunted.
"Dont argue with me on this!" You giggled as he chuckled.
"But is true... you're my love, my home, my family... my world."
"Takami Keigo if you make me cry one more time I swear Im beating you out of our nest."
"WHa?! WHY?!"
"BECAUSE YOU DO THIS ON PURPOSE YOU ASS!"
"IM NOT EVEN DOING ANYTHING!" He laughed at your desperate laughter and just laying back on the safety of your arms as he breathed in and finally felt the anxiety of earlier completely vanishing.
Yeah... fuck what his parents thought of him. What matters to him is when he is finally popping the big question and making you oficially his.
==============
(A/n) if anypne interested, the start of "song" is actually from a brazilian rap dedicated for gaara, naruto and sasaku called "sem familia" or in english "no family"
#hawks x reader#takami keigo x reader#bnha heroes x reader#hawks#takami keigo#keigo needs love#zuffer writingbnha fanfiction#bnha fanfics#bnha heroes
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They can tell you that it’s righteous
Fandom: Dream SMP
Prompt: Kidnapping ( @badthingshappenbingo )
A/N: Aaand I’m back on my writing bullshit, let’s go. I started plotting this fic back in January, so it only follows canon up until Doomsday/Techno and Phil finding the portal room, but at least it’s finally done!
Obligatory tags of people who asked: @deadonmercury @littlecatninja
Warnings: hostage situation, blood, violence, mention of skin melting off, antagonist Quackity, drowning, temporary character death (gotta love respawning), near death experience, beheading.
Read on AO3!!
It had started like such a good day for Ranboo. The sun was shining bright in the sky, the SMP seemed to be at relative peace for once, and there were plenty of grass blocks lying around and waiting to be picked up. So yeah, great day!
Ranboo knew this peace probably wouldn't last long, not with these lands' track record of starting conflicts and trying to kill people on a weekly basis. But when the afternoon rolled around and random explosions had yet to start filling the sky with smoke, the hybrid felt pretty confident that, at least for that day, things were looking up.
The problem was that, by thinking on those lines, Ranboo ended up forgetting the most important rule of the server, the one rule he'd promised himself he would not break, no matter what.
Never, ever lower your guard, especially in times of peace.
He didn't even notice the person sneaking up on him until the very last second. One moment, he was crouching down, happily patting the grass block he'd just placed on the ground and the next, there was a shadow looming over him, the familiar shape of small, feathered wings being the only thing he managed to discern before a sudden, excruciating pain in the back of his head made his vision go white.
Ranboo groaned, stumbling on the ground while his vision wobbled and filled with dark spots. Dark, dirty sneakers stopped just in front of his head, but try as he might, the hybrid couldn't bring himself to move his head enough to look up, the mere thought of it making him wince.
"Sorry Ranboo, nothing personal," a familiar voice muttered, drawing a confused whine out of the kid. After that, everything went black.
+++
Technoblade had been feeling on edge all day -which, by itself, wasn't such a strange occurrence. Being on edge was a given for him, what with the voices in his head constantly chanting for blood and half of the server seemingly having a personal vendetta against him.
Listen, okay, he did blow up their precious country -but only after they decided that a corrupt government was the way to go and, you know, tracked him down while he was in retirement to try and execute him. He felt like the retaliation was kind of deserved.
Still, Techno didn't give much weight to the feeling. He'd learned to never let his guard down after the butcher army, and if someone decided to be stupid enough to attack him in his own home, they'd have to deal with him, Philza, and the small army of hounds living in the pen outside, plus the polar bears. The entirety of the SMP could attack them and he'd be able to at least hold them off enough to get away.
So, Techno spent most of the day chilling, for once, sitting on his couch with a book and Steve curled up nearby while Phil worked on some blueprints for a project of his.
"You keep that up, you're going to end up building a whole city down in that abandoned fortress," he commented, huffing in amusement as the older looked up from the table to glare at him.
"Oh, you shut up," Phil retorted, pointing at him with the quill in his hand. "Do you want the syndicate room to look decent or not? Because if you prefer I can just wing it-" chat cackled at the unintentional pun, much to Techno's dismay- "and have it turn out whatever."
Techno squinted at his friend. "You wouldn't."
"You sure about that, mate?" Phil grinned back, the picture of innocence. Which, when it came to him, meant he absolutely would, the fucker.
"Alright, alright," Techno huffed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, "leave the old man to his planning, got it."
Phil snorted, pushing his chair back as he stood up. "Now you listen here, you little shit-"
The sound of tapping on glass distracted them from the discussion, attracting their attention to the kitchen window. There, perched on the windowsill, stood one of Phil's crows, holding something in its beak.
After exchanging a curious glance with Techno, the older went to retrieve the bird, opening the window enough to let it hop in. Giving the crow a few pats on the head, he reached for the object, raising an eyebrow when he realized it was, in fact, a folded piece of paper.
Intrigued, Techno watched as Phil opened the message, his eyes quickly scanning the paper before widening slightly in alarm. Well, that wasn't good.
"Mate, I think you might want to take a look at this," Phil called, urgency obvious in his voice and that really, really wasn't good.
Techno sighed, slipping the bookmark back in his book before standing up. Guess he could say goodbye to his plans for a chill afternoon.
Hello, Technoblade,
heard you guys took in a little stray -should have known, traitors tend to stick together, don't they? Well, jokes on you, I've got him now. Get to the coordinates listed at the bottom of this note, alone and unarmed, before sundown, or Ranboo gets it. An eye for an eye, that's how the saying goes, right?
See you soon,
Q
+++
Techno had been already halfway out of the house the second he finished reading the note, Phil hot on his heels.
"I'm not letting you go alone," the older stated, already reaching for his coat.
"Well, you'll have to," Techno countered.
"You can't go in without backup, especially unarmed and not knowing what to expect!"
"Oh trust me, I'll be anything but unarmed," Techno huffed, letting the axe Ranboo had gifted him slide in his inventory. "I can use the element of surprise, I'll be fine. But the second Quackity sees you, Ranboo is going to be in hot shit, and we don't even know where he's keeping him."
Phil glared, his lips pursed in a displeased frown before sighing in defeat. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."
Techno sent him an apologetic glance, quickly fastening his coat on before stepping down the porch.
"I'll keep my communicator on the whole time," he promised, walking towards the stasis chamber and reaching for one of his ender pearls, "I'll get there, grab Ranboo, kill Quackity if I can and the second I text you you're gonna teleport us back."
"Sounds like a plan," Philza sighed. "Be careful, okay mate?"
"When am I ever not?" Techno smirked. "we'll be back before you know it, old man."
"Fuck off and go save our neighbor, you ass!"
Techno cackled, shaking his head as he set off towards the Nether portal.
Save Ranboo!
Protectiveblade
Blood for the blood god
Techno shook his head, pushing the voices back as he forced himself to keep a clear head. He was pissed, sure, but he knew men like Quackity -he'd met a lot of them in his life, and all of them had fallen under his sword. He would be no different.
The Nether travel didn't take that long, and after that, all he had to do was follow his compass towards the coordinates he'd been given. Techno found himself feeling glad the place wasn't all too far away, seeing how the sun had just started dipping below the horizon when he finally stepped out of the forest.
"Man, look who is here, our guest of honor!" Quackity exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he turned to look at him. "Technoblade, how nice of you to join us, I was starting to think you wouldn't come, after all."
Distantly, Techno could hear the ocean waves crashing against the rocks under them, the occasional droplets of water reaching the top of the cliff they were currently on. Quackity was standing just near the edge, gusts of wind ruffling the feathers of his duck wings and trying to slip the beanie off his head -all it would take was a misstep, a small push, and he would plummet towards the unforgiving water below.
But what actually got the piglin's attention was the small structure he could see just behind the man, a small, locked cage rigged with redstone dangling well over the edge and above the crashing waves. And just inside of it, slumped against the metal bars, laid an unconscious Ranboo, left with no armor on but his clothes.
"What did you do to him," he demanded, not even bothering to tear his gaze away from the cage that reminded him too much of the day the butcher army had come for him.
"Ah, watch your tone, Blade," Quackity tutted, a smirk evident in his voice, "all I need is pull this lever, and the kid falls down into the ocean. I heard he doesn't do well in water without his armor… we wouldn't want that, would we?"
Techno snapped his head towards Quackity, baring his tusks in a silent threat.
"I'm here, I followed your stupid directions," he growled, barely able to keep himself from cutting Quackity's head clean off like the voices wanted him to, "now let Ranboo go."
The duck hybrid tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion. "And why would I do that, Technoblade? He's a traitor, he needs to be punished as one."
"A traitor to what?!" Techno asked, bewildered. "L'Manburg is gone, Quackity!"
"And whose fault is that?!" Quackity shouted. "Uh? Remind me, oh great Technoblade, who here razed an entire country to the ground not once, but fucking twice? Please, enlighten me!"
"Government corrupts," Techno answered, his voice low and dangerous, "L'Manburg was rotten to its core, look at what it did to you, to Tubbo, to Tommy! It needed to go."
Quackity laughed, throwing his head back as the wind kept howling around them.
"Oh, yeah?" he grinned, throwing his arms open. "Well, that's my old home you're talking about. And if it was rotten, well, then so am I."
Before Techno could even react, Quackity reached to his side, wrapping his hand around the lever connected to the redstone of the cage. And then, still grinning from ear to ear, he pulled.
"Ranboo!" Techno shouted, watching helplessly as the kid plummeted down towards the ocean water. Quackity's laughter mixed with the howling wind, crazed and high-pitched and making Techno's blood boil.
Ruby red eyes settled on the laughing man, filling with bloodlust as the familiar weight of an axe appeared in his hand.
The voices were growing louder by the second, feeding on his fury and chanting for blood. And this time, Technoblade didn't bother holding them back.
+++
Ranboo woke up to muffled voices, yelling from somewhere in front of him. He didn't know what was happening, or where he was -the voices were somewhat familiar, yes, but he couldn't place them for the life of him and as it was, he could barely even catch a word every four, with how loud the wind was.
Normally, something like this wouldn't have failed to send him spiraling into a panic -he hated not knowing, not being aware of his own surroundings or how he got there in the first place. But his brain felt fuzzy, off-kilter, the only thing he could focus on being the dull throbbing coming from the back of his head. Ender, it hurt.
Fighting down a small whine, Ranboo pried his eyes open, pushing against the sluggishness to try and at least make some sense out of the situation he'd found himself in. His vision was fuzzy, but he could somewhat make out two figures standing somewhere in front of him.
One was standing with his back on him, decked in the familiar iridescent purple of an enchanted netherite armor. The other was a little farther away, enough so that to Ranboo, they looked like nothing more than a blurred blob of amassed colors. Pink was very prominent, followed by something red flowing on their back -they felt familiar, safe, causing Ranboo to relax almost on instinct.
"Technoblade...?" he slurred, confused. What was Techno doing there? They weren't in the Antarctic, there was no snow around them.
Before he could properly think of a reason, however, Ranboo felt the floor suddenly disappear from under him, fear shooting up his spine as he started plummeting down into the abyss. He didn't even have the time to make a sound before something dark and cold enveloped him, shocking him awake as he got twirled and smacked around.
A few seconds of shocked bliss passed, and then everything started burning.
It felt like he'd fallen in a pit of fire, the flames licking at every ounce of his skin as if trying to melt it directly off his body. Ranboo opened his mouth, trying to scream as the pain overwhelmed him in the worst way possible, only for something to fill his mouth and throat, choking him and only strengthening his growing panic.
He was going to die. He was going to die, alone in this darkness, he needed to get out, out, out-
Ranboo crashed on the hard, unforgiving ground, coughing harshly as water rushed out of his airways. Cold, frigid air hit his skin, soothing the burns and making the pain a little more bearable. He could breathe. He could breathe.
Ranboo slumped to the floor, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to get his racing heartbeat under control. He had to fight even just to keep his eyes open, exhaustion weighing him down until he could barely move his head, let alone think about standing up.
A white, furry snout filled his vision, curiously sniffing at his face. Ranboo blinked, a startled sound escaping his lips. The dog blinked back, tilting its head to the side.
"What…?" he whispered, wincing at how hoarse his voice came out. Ender, his throat hurt.
Another snout appeared above his head. And then another, and another, the sound of barking finally reaching his ears. Where- where was he, exactly?
Before he could try and come up with an answer, Ranboo heard the sound of a door opening, followed by a sharp gasp and hurried footsteps.
"Ranboo?"
The hybrid squinted in confusion, immediately recognizing the voice.
"Phil?"
+++
No matter what tricks he might have had up his sleeve, Quackity couldn't stand a chance against an angry, vengeful Technoblade. It took him barely minutes to sink his axe through the other's neck, slicing his head clean off and sending it rolling on the ground under their feet. Techno barely watched as the lifeless body slumped down, ignoring his communicator vibrating with the death message as he raced to the cliff. He knew, he knew there was no way Ranboo had survived a fall like that, but he had to check, had to make sure.
Crashing waves and wet, glistening rocks were the only things staring back, destroying whatever hope he might have had. Someone more impulsive would have jumped off, in a desperate hope to find the kid still struggling against the current, but Techno knew better.
The ocean was unforgiving, and for someone like Ranboo, even more so.
He sighed, stepping back from the edge and turning around. Quackity's body wasn't there anymore, having disappeared as the respawn mechanics worked their magic -if the man was smart, he wouldn't dare bother Techno again, not unless he wanted to lose his last life and find out how permadeath felt like.
In theory, Techno knew that Ranboo's death wasn't permanent. The kid still had all of his lives, at least before this, and the SMP would bring him back soon enough. Respawning sucked, though -it left you aching and in pain for days on end as your body stitched itself back together after whatever trauma had taken away one of your lives. It was a painful process, gruesome at times, and one Techno wished Ranboo didn't have to go through.
Especially not when it was his fault.
Ignoring the guilt pooling heavily in his gut, Technoblade reached for his communicator, intending to text Phil to bring him back. As it turned out, however, his friend had beat him to it, blowing up his notifications with hurried messages. Guilt now replaced with worry, Techno tapped the screen, reading through the chat.
[Philza] Techno
[Philza] Techno what the fuck
[Philza] Ranboo is here, he's in the dog pen
[Philza] Jesus christ he's covered in burns what the fuck happened
[Philza] Technoblade you better answer your fucking communicator right now or so help me god I will fly there, find you, and drag your ass home myself
[Philza] I saw the kill message where the fuck are you
Techno blinked, staring at the messages with wide eyes. What?
[Philza] Techno, I know you're reading these, answer me right now
[Technoblade] im omw
+++
When Techno slammed the door of his cabin open, he didn't know what he was expecting. A dead body in the middle of respawning, maybe, with Phil watching over it like a silent guardian angel.
He certainly wasn't expecting to walk in on Phil wrapping gauze around what looked like the entirety of Ranboo's body, the bandages visible for the world to see with the simple shirt and pants the kid was now wearing.
Techno barely spared a glance to the pile of soaked clothes lying on his floor, raking his eyes over the enderman hybrid as he tried to work the surprise out of his system. Fine is the farthest adjective the piglin would use to describe Ranboo right at that moment, seeing how his entire body was covered in gauze and he was holding a pack of ice to the back of his head, but he was alive and breathing and for once in his life, Techno had no fucking clue about how that was possible.
"Fucking hell, kid," he groaned, letting his cloak fall to the floor as he trudged inside the house. "You'll give me a heart attack, one of these days."
Ranboo winced as Technoblade slumped on the couch, still a little dazed from the hit to his head.
"Sorry," he muttered, breaking into a coughing fit immediately after.
"Don't force your throat, mate, you gotta let it rest," Phil scolded gently, sending Techno a small glare. "We're just glad you're okay -or, well, as okay as you can be right now."
Ranboo hesitantly looked up, looking at Philza and then at Techno. The piglin nodded in silent agreement and watched as the kid seemed to slump on himself in relief, the tension leaving his body at once. Was it really that surprising, that they'd grown to care for him enough to be worried about his well-being?
The two men exchanged a worried glance, silent words passing between them. Then, Phil nodded to himself, tying up the last of the gauze around Ranboo's forearm before heading to the kitchen.
"How do you guys feel about some tea?" he asked, pulling down a kettle and three mugs. "I'd say we could all do with something warm right now."
Techno made a noise of affirmation, watching with amusement as Ranboo snorted and nodded in agreement.
Maybe things weren't okay just yet, but this? This was a start.
#dream smp#dream smp fanfiction#ranboo#technoblade#philza#philza minecraft#quackity#blood#temporary character death#near death experience#antagonist quackity#protective technoblade#angst with a happy ending#bad things happen bingo#maxiswriting
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Best Friends Forever
Sometimes, even best friends argue.
Tap, tap, tap.
Levi hears a knocking on his bedroom window, but he makes no move to get up and look out. He knows who is on the other side. And he has no desire to see her.
So he turns in his bed, covering his head with a blanket. If he continues to ignore her, maybe, she will go away.
But a couple of minutes later, the initially soft knocks become louder and louder. Soon the glass in the window starts to shake.
Levi gets up, his little fists shaking from anger. If she continues to bang at his window so loudly, his mother will wake up. He won’t let that happen.
So, he opens the window. Of course, she is here – crouching on his windowsill, that stupid grin on her face and those ugly glasses, slipping down her nose, as usual.
“Took you long enough,” the smile grows wider, as Hange tries to get inside his room.
Levi harshly slaps her hands, glaring daggers at her. “Go away,” he hisses, pushing her back. “You’re disturbing my sleep.”
Hange eyebrows furrow together. “But you never go to bed that early.”
“Now I do,” Levi’s anger grows every second. Why can’t she just leave him alone? It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to see her.
“Is everything alright?” Hange asks, her voice quiet with worry. In spite of Levi’s attempts, she manages to slip inside, landing on his bedroom floor with a barely audible ‘thud’.
“I’m fine,” Levi grumbles, turning away from her. Now that Hange’s inside, he knows that he can’t throw her out. It will cause too much noise, and that is something Levi is desperately trying to avoid.
“Is something wrong with your mother?” Hange comes to stand next to him, her hand clasping his shoulder.
Levi shakes her hand off so violently, as though it burned him. “She is fine, and I’m fine, everything is fine! Now leave me alone!”
“What?” Hange looks at him, as though she didn’t quite understand his words. “You want me to leave?”
“Are you deaf now too, four-eyes?”
“Levi,” Hange says, ignoring his insult. “What happened?”
Levi opens his eyes widely, staring at her. It is dark in his room, and he can’t see her face that clearly, but is Hange serious? Does she really not know what bothers him so much?
“You can tell me anything,” Hange adds after the prolonged silence. There is a small and soft smile on her lips. “We’re best friends, right?” she raises her arm, showing a small bracelet.
Recently, Levi was wearing the same one. He threw it out today.
“Are we still best friends?” Levi hates, how small his voice sounds. So he looks at Hange, adding as much anger to his gaze as possible. “I thought you’ve found yourself a new one.”
At first, Hange is confused. But then slowly her eyes fill with understanding. “Are you talking about Erwin?”
Levi’s face cringes, as he hears that name. Erwin came to their town last month. And in the beginning, he was… alright. He is cool and organized, a far cry from Hange, who always has her hands in some shit and whose ass is constantly seeking out some dumb adventures.
Levi even liked him, but then Hange started liking him too much.
One day, while they were playing in their tree house, Erwin told them about his father’s giant study room, filled with hundreds of books. And, of course, Hange – a massive book nerd that she is - demanded to see that room.
And ever since they’ve visited Erwin’s house, annoying four-eyes can’t stop gushing about those stupid books, spending literal hours in discussions with Erwin.
Naturally, it annoys Levi. Hange is his best friend, but now she spends all of her time with Erwin. She talks about books and what she thinks of them, what ideas they give her. She talks, and talks, and talks, and she rarely encourages Levi to participate.
Sure, he isn’t smart, as Erwin and Hange, and he doesn’t have the patience to read through those massive books, but Hange didn’t seem to care about it before. Before she met Erwin, she was happy being friends with him.
And Levi had some hope that it will change, that Hange will grow bored of constantly discussing some dumb books and soon will return to him. She will ask him to go on some stupid adventure, and Levi will instantly refuse. Hange will beg and plead with him, until Levi caves in and begrudgingly agrees to follow her.
He misses those days.
But today all of his hopes of returning back to them were shattered.
Usually Hange visits him each morning, dragging him out on the streets to play. But today, she didn’t show up, so Levi decided to go to her house. Maybe, Hange was sick? Or, maybe, she and her family were getting ready for a trip out town?
However, after he rang the bell to Hange’s house, her mother walked out, looking a bit confused.
“Hange is already gone,” she said and Levi’s heart clenched painfully.
As he went to the tree house, his fears were confirmed – Hange was sitting there, and, of course, Erwin was beside her.
Neither of them noticed him and after watching for a moment, seeing Hange laugh at something Erwin said, Levi tore apart his bracelet, throwing it on the ground. Then he turned away from them, running back home.
He was gloomy and angry ever since.
“Yes, I am talking about him!” Levi says, returning back to their conversation. “Erwin, your new best friend!”
“Hey, that’s not true!” Hange protests, pursing her lips. “You are my best friend!”
“Really?” Levi crosses hands on his chest. “Then why don’t you invite me to play anymore?”
“You’re lying! I always ask you!”
“But you didn’t invite me today!”
“Oh…” Hange instantly deflates. She looks guilty, as she fiddles with a strap of her backpack. “I didn’t have the time to call you today… Erwin was going somewhere with his father this afternoon, and he couldn’t play as long as usually…”
“So that’s it?” Levi asks, staring up at her. That fact further adds fuel to his anger. Just one year ago, Hange was shorter than him, but now she’s towering over him, like some kind of a giant. “Erwin is more important than me?”
“Of course, not!” Hange almost shouts, but swiftly covers her mouth, when Levi throws her a mean look. “He is not more important than you,” she continues much quieter. “You’re my best friend, no one is more important to me than you! I even have a proof!” Hange smiles tentatively, showing him the bracelet.
Levi lowers his head, feeling guilty. “I don’t think it can count as a proof of our friendship. I lost my own today.”
“Oh, no!” Hange’s hands fly to her face, covering her cheeks. “How did it happen? We have to search for it! We can’t let it be lost! It’s a symbol of our friendship!”
Levi’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I threw it away, when I saw you and Erwin today. I thought you don’t want to be friends with me anymore…”
“Silly!” Hange giggles, as she wraps her hands around him. “You’ll always be my friend! And don’t worry about the bracelet, we’ll find it, I’m sure!”
“Will you help me looking for it?” Levi whispers in her shoulder.
“Of course!” Hange exclaims, as she lets him go. “We’ll begin the search first thing in the morning! Oh, Erwin has a magnifying glass, we can invit—”
“Absolutely not,” Levi replies curtly. “That bracelet is a symbol of our friendship. We have to look for it together. Without Erwin.”
“Alright, alright,” Hange smiles, taking a step away. “Well, I’ll be going now. You wanted to sleep.”
In answer to that, Levi tsks. “As if I can fall asleep after you made so much noise. So,” he looks at her. “What did you want to show me?”
“Wait a sec!” Hange shows him a toothy grin, before taking off her backpack and diving head-first into it. “Here!” she produces a small black object.
Levi stares at it, dumbfounded. “What is this?”
“It’s a patch! A pirate patch!” Hange is beyond excited. She lifts the patch to her face, covering her left eye. “See? I look like a true pirate now!”
“You look stupid,” Levi says, hiding a grin.
Hange comes closer, pressing the patch to Levi’s right eye. “Well, who is looking stupid now?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Levi decides to ignore that particular question. “Where did you get that thing?”
“I made it myself!” Hange proclaims proudly. Levi stares at her, unimpressed. She lowers her head. “Fine, my mom helped me with it.”
“That sounds more truthful,” Levi nods.
“I got another one at my home! So we can be pirates together!” Hange puffs out her chest, lifting an imaginative sword. “Can you imagine, Levi? We’ll be the greatest pirate duo this world has seen! We’ll be inspiring fear in the hearts of every man! We’ll be the biggest threat on the Trembling Sea!”
“Such sea doesn’t exist,” Levi grumbles. He takes Hange by the hand, sitting her down on the bed. He joins her and then covers both of them with blanket. “But tell me more. What ship will we have?”
Hange grins at him, practically brimming with excitement, and then begins her tale.
Levi closes his eyes, feigning disinterest, but in truth, he’s listening to her carefully, offering his remarks, when Hange’s tale becomes too ridiculous.
***
When Levi’s mother enters his room in the morning to wake him up, she witnesses an extremely adorable scene – her son and his best friend, covered with a blanket and holding onto each other tightly, as they peacefully slumber.
#very very very silly thing!#i wrote this at 4am because i couldn't fall asleep#so its not the most cohering thing in the world#levihan#levihan fanfiction#levi x hange#levi ackerman#hange zoe#levi x hanji#snk fanfiction#snk fandom#aot#levi aot
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I promised him | Octavia Blake x Platonic! Reader, Lincoln x Platonic! Reader
A/N: I also love the 100, I must say that I don’t really enjoy the last few seasons as much, but I do really enjoy how unique the show is and all of the opportunities fans have to write imagines and fanfictions because of all of the crazy plots and storylines (and hot characters). Anyways enjoy! This is something a bit different than what I usually write <3
Prompt: Reader is Lincoln’s sister and is fighting for Trikru in the Conclave, until it is down to just her and Octavia.
Warnings: death, blood
You were getting ready to die, but you were preparing to die with honour.
You had drawn Trikru’s symbol on your face but most importantly, you had written your brother’s name on the back of your neck. It was a secret reminder to yourself that no matter what happened, no matter who’s lives you take or whatever pain you endure, you will be with your brother, or at least that was your plan.
You knew that you were one of the best fighters in the Conclave, you weren’t a Nightblood or trained by the best guards since you were a child, like Luna or Roan, but you had the gift to skillfully use any weapon handed to you, and most importantly, you had nothing to lose. Your brother, your only family was dead.
With your skills and passion, everyone knew that you were favoured to make it far into the Conclave, you could easily defeat most of the warriors but it would be extremely difficult for you to kill Luna or Roan on your own. And Octavia, you knew you probably wouldn’t even have the guts to go near her. But you knew that whatever happened there was no way that you would live, and you were okay with that...as long as some idiot didn’t get control of the bunker.
Flashback~
“Lincoln, this is dangerous and you know it. This girl and all of the sky people will be the death of you!”
“You don’t know that!”
“Yes I do! Do you want to know why? I know that if they don’t kill you themselves, Trikru will!”
You watched as your brother paced back and forth, clearly digesting your words. “You will be a traitor Lincoln, I was able to defend you and protect you from Indra’s claims of you being one when you were staying in this fucking cave and only sneaking around with the girl, but if you stay with them and pretend to be one of them, I can’t possibly say that you aren’t a traitor! It’s a death wish Lincoln!”
Lincoln turned around and looked you in the eye, and you knew there was no changing his mind. Months ago, before he met Octavia, his eyes were dark, emotionless and empty. But now, they were filled with life, love and hope, and even his sister couldn’t stand in the way of that hope.
You sighed and wrapped him in a hug.
“Lexa is calling me back to Polis, she says that my break from training is over and I need to help her prepare for another possible war on Skykru.”
You both let your words sink in as you hugged, tears forming in your eyes. The next time you saw one another would either be on opposite sides of a battle field or if you were lucky, if you were stationed to watch over Skykru’s base, but even then you would likely be too busy to do anything but watch Lincoln from afar.
“If anything happens to me, promise that you will do everything that you can to keep Octavia safe.”
You pulled back from the hug sighing, “Lincoln...”
“I know that you don’t like her very much Y/N, but if I die, she will be broken and reckless and constantly on the verge of death, and you are the only person I trust that will be able to bring her back and keep her safe. Please Y/N, for me.”
You look him in the eyes and see that tears have began to fall down his face.
“Fine, I promise...but you better not die and leave me to fix your mess, just like you are now.”
Lincoln couldn’t help but chuckle, “Am I leaving you or are you leaving me?”
As it turned out, that was the last time you saw Lincoln. And as you stood by Lexa’s side in Polis, your brother was shot in the head.
End of flashback~
You quickly wiped your eyes and began practicing.
You expertly began to slash the air, as if your opponent was standing right in front of you, fighting.
You quickly began to get lost in the moment as you didn’t notice someone standing right behind you until they cleared your throat.
“Indra...”
“Y/N...”
“Did you get lost on your way to Octavia or did you actually mean to come here to say your goodbyes?”
“I already wished my best to Octavia and now I am here to do the same for you.”
“Oh please, we both know that you want one person here to win, even if they are fighting for your death.”
“Y/N we both know that whatever happens out there, you will likely fight for my death too, maybe even everybody’s death, but I wanted to say that Lincoln would be proud of you for doing this.”
“DON’T YOU DARE SAY HIS NAME!” you shout, you see people began to stare at you but you don’t care.
“I did not come here to fight, Y/N, I came here to remind you that Lincoln didn’t leave you because of Octavia. He left you because of love, love that just so happened to come from a girl from the sky, a girl that made him feel full of happiness and hope until the day he died.”
“Indra...”
“She made him happy Y/N, you can’t be mad at either of them for being in love for much longer.”
And with that, she walked away leaving you alone with your screaming thoughts.
“She was always one for dramatics huh?” you mutter to yourself
hours later~
You were one of the few left, or so you assumed.
Before, you would walk around for roughly 30 minutes and bump into a competitor, but now it seemed as if you couldn’t find anybody.
You had felt the rain and how it burned into your skin, feeling as if you were on fire, and every drop that landed on you just ignited it and made it worse.
You had ran into what seemed like some poor bastard’s home for shelter when you heard someone talking.
Your eyes widened in realization...Luna.
“I even stopped blaming myself for killing my brother in the Conclave.” You heard the footsteps moving away from you.
You quietly moved closer towards her and saw Luna following a trail of blood on the floor. Well shit, who’s the dumbass that did that?
“But the truth is...the truth is when I saw him standing across from me in the arena, and I knew only one of us could live...I wanted it to be me.”
Who was she talking to? And why was she taking so damn long?
You realized that if Luna was taking this long to kill someone off, she must be extremely confident that she wouldn’t have to put up much of a fight, her next victim was probably injured or scared shitless and hiding.
This was your chance to kill Luna and her stupid ‘I want everyone to die’ idea. Sure, you wanted a hell of a lot of people to die, and maybe even yourself to die, but at least you wanted to continue the human race.
“I ran because I was afraid of who I am...of the darkness...we all are, but this is the end.”
You quickly ran towards her hiding behind a shelf, as she sliced through the cabinet, clearly thinking that someone was in there. You watched as she moved her arm back, clearly confused, slicing through the cabinet again before opening the cabinet in frustration.
You are about to jump forward, out of your hiding spot and slice her head off until you see Octavia run forward and stab Luna in the stomach.
“You’re wrong there are people worth saving.”
She collects the medallions from Luna’s neck before counting them and looking clearly confused.
You take a deep breath before running out from your spot. You slide in front of Octavia, slicing her knee with one of your daggers. As she falls to the ground in shock and pain, you quickly knee her back and pin her to the ground, using one arm to wrap around Octavia’s neck and the other holding her sword, to use against her if she was strong or dumb enough to escape your hold.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”
You feel her gulp and take a breathe before she whispers, “I can’t”
You grunt in frustration before roughly releasing her, dropping her to the ground and picking up her sword.
“You had me in the palm of your hand, why didn’t you finish me off?” Octavia gasps, clearly trying to catch her breath.
You circle her, watching her every movement analyzing every possible move Octavia could take.
“Because of a stupid promise that I made.”
“To Indra?”
“No...to Lincoln”
You watched as Octavia’s eyes filled with tears and she sucked in a breath in shock.
“He made me promise to keep you safe, and killing you right now wouldn’t really do that wouldn’t it? I bet that asshole thought that something like this would eventually happen...him dead, leaving two broken girls at each other’s throats.”
“He wasn’t an asshole”
“No...he was the opposite which makes him seem even more like an asshole.”
Octavia chuckles before looking you in the eye, “Y/N you should just finish me...Trikru deserves to have the bunker, not Skykru.”
You stop circling her, making Octavia who was now on her knees, have to look up in order to meet your eyes.
You gulped as you realize that she has left herself in the perfect position for you to slice her head off, effectively killing her and leaving you in control of the bunker.
You re-adjust your grip on Octavia’s sword and raise it, shifting your stance to make it easier for you to finish the job in one swing.
You close your eyes, taking in a breath before guiding the sword so that it would stab yourself in the stomach.
You slowly stagger backwards, and watch as Octavia looks at you in shock before standing up and catching you as you fall.
“Wh-why did you just do that? Your people will die without the bunker.”
You slightly chuckled before coughing up blood, “Octavia, I don’t care about the bunker, do what you want with it...give it to Skykru, give it to Trikru, leave it for everybody to share for all I care, but I promised him...I-I would rather die than break t-that”
“Thank you...”
And as you felt your chest getting heavier and heavier, making it harder to breathe, you raised your hand slightly, so that you were holding your medallion that had the Trikru symbol on it.
You gripped it and yanked it forcefully, breaking the necklace, cringing as you felt a slight pain ripple throughout your body.
Octavia noticed this and tried taking it from you, trying to make the process easier as she realized what you were trying to do.
“N-no...” you croaked “I want to be the one to give it to you.”
Octavia nodded and gulped as you slowly placed the medallion into her hands.
“You’ll be a good leader Octavia.”
And with that, you took your last breath as the world suddenly went dark.
And you were gone.
#octavia blake#octavia blake x reader#octavia blake imagine#the 100#the 100 x reader#the 100 imagine#netflix#cw#fanfiction#platonic#imagine#oopsiedoopsie23#bellamy blake#clarke griffin#marie avgeropoulos
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bonus: why is their luck in a deeply sad moment? | shawn mendes
some type of au idk man, shawn x goth ex gf
WARNING: there is talk of death and suicide in this chapter. read at your own risk.
AN: i cant squeeze this into the next big fic nor can i fit it into shawn meets bc everyone hated it so its a bonus in the gg story lmao also im starying the Next Big Fic in a few days :)
masterlist | annalise’s playlist
2026.
"Sometimes I think about the what ifs," Ann said, “but I like where I am. I like what I’ve made for myself.”
Shawn had to invite her over to his house a second time, because the first time left him with many questions unanswered. He couldn’t be mad at what she said, though. He was in the same boat; he liked the life he made. You know, without the crushing loss and run in with the supernatural.
“Well, I’m happy for you,” he told her, and he really meant it. “I’m glad we were able to successfully do our own things straight after breaking up.”
“Nothing like filling the void in your heart with work!” Ann replied with a giggle. She moved a strand of hair behind her ear, and that’s when Shawn noticed something.
He took her hand and noticed a tattoo on the side of her middle finger: The Triforce.
“You got inked?” he asked, impressed.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” she replied, grabbing her sleeve to roll it up.
There was a sword on her inner arm. It was varying in shades of blue, and it also had the Triforce on it. Shawn recognized it as the Master Sword from the Legend of Zelda games.
“All this is is proof that I’m a nerd,” Ann said as she rolled her sleeve back down. “I notice you have some more ink also… and that you still wear shirts half buttoned.” She pointed to his chest.
Her finger poked the exposed skin. It shouldn’t have been as tingly as it was. Shawn smiled and placed his hand over his chest.
“More than just that,” he told her. “But I can’t show you all of them.”
Maybe it was a little risky to say that. Shawn would have taken it back if Ann’s cheeks hadn’t gone a shade of pink.
“I could say the same thing…”
Shawn quickly came to learn just how many tattoos Ann had gotten over the years. A snake and tombstones on her other arm. Feather on her collarbone, roses on her shoulder. A quote reading, “...but I’m not anymore” with stars around it on her ribcage. Something on her wrist that Shawn didn’t catch because he was busy pressing his lips to her hips and taking off her pants, where he found another tattoo. “Lucky you.” He certainly felt it.
Everything about their time together was so familiar, so easy and almost home-like. Ann’s skin touching his. Her lips perfectly molding over his. The quiet, needy gasps they both released into the bedroom. It was like going back in time, and they were in Shawn’s Toronto apartment instead of his multimillion dollar condo in LA. It was soft and slow, despite Shawn pinning Ann’s arms above her head. He didn’t outgrow that particular move, and she still seemed to like it.
Shawn had never been happier to have been on a break more than now. Most one night stands in the past began and ended very quickly, because he was on tour or in between interviews or on a break for one day. This was one person that he didn’t want to leave behind. They lied down, sweaty and dazed, facing each other. It was silent, but not awkward. Everything had a nice haze around it.
That was also when Shawn finally made out what the tattoo on Ann’s wrist was. He picked his head up in confusion.
“Is… are those torches?” he asked. “Upside down? Just like mine… and are those my initials?”
It was simple line art, less intricate than his own. Torches in an X, with “SM” right below them. Shawn has been floored many times, and this was no exception.
Ann picked her head up as well. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Shawn looked down at his chest, his torches were exactly the same, sans the initials. He wanted to give Ann the benefit of the doubt, that this wasn’t some creepy fangirl thing. Some of his one night stands ended up like that, and it wasn’t exactly easy to forget.
“It’s for a friend of mine,” Ann explained, sitting up and covering her front with the blanket. She took note of the look on Shawn’s face. “Keeping someone’s light on beyond death, remember? I assume yours is for someone too.”
They were both sitting up now, and Shawn relaxed. However, he only relaxed a little bit because now it was time to get deep.
“Mine’s for Brian. He died last year.”
Ann’s face fell. “No. Brian, your best friend? Brian, the one who constantly took the piss outta me?”
He nodded. “He was… there was an accident. Flight of stairs. Instantly killed.” It was all lies, but no human would understand.
A hand went over his, squeezing. “I’m so sorry. He just, he just fell down some stairs?”
“A lot of stairs. I don’t know I guess he was running or something. There was no way to save him. People in the house heard the crash, but by the time they found him - when I found him - it was too late.” He had told this version many times, enough times to where he could almost believe it himself.
“Fuck, man. That’s… that’s fucking terrible,” Ann said sympathetically. “But I seriously can’t believe you just told me that.”
“Why?”
“Because now I have to tell you that mine is for Stella. Those are her initials.”
Stella Martinez. Now Shawn felt a little stupid… but surprised, and he was met with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t believe it for a second, but it fully processed in his head, and his heart began to break.
“Stella from college? Stella, who was your literal opposite and also your best friend?”
Ann solemnly nodded. Then she looked down. “She… she killed herself.”
Shawn was stunned into silence, the tightness in his chest only intensifying. The entire time he knew Stella, she was always so positive and bubbly. She was the opposite of suicidal. That’s why it was such a shock… and so sad. Oh god, who was going to tell Camila?
“When did Brian go to the other side?” Ann asked after a moment.
“A year ago last month,” Shawn replied. “And Stella?”
Ann raised an eyebrow. “Two years ago last month...”
It was a strange coincidence, but still upsetting. Both Shawn and Ann lost their best friends at the same time of the year. The urge to spill everything was thick in the air. Still, neither of them said anything for a while.
Instead, Ann reached down to the floor to pick up her clothes. Shawn’s eyes were stuck on her and that was when he spotted another word on her back. Nightmare. Small font, right shoulder blade, surrounded by a cluster of skulls. Then, he realized what she was doing.
“Are you leaving?”
She looked up, bra in hand. She was quiet as she put it back on.
“No. No, I’m not going anywhere.”
And she crawled back into bed. She made the point to keep a distance from Shawn, who was still naked. He was on his side, looking at the woman before him. Only Ann could have sex with him and bring up the subject of death. That brought a new point to mind.
“How do you enjoy death?” he asked. “I think I’ve asked you this before, but after losing someone and attending their funeral, I’m having a hard time understanding your perspective.”
Ann took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t enjoy the act of dying. People die every day in horrible ways. People mourn and fall into depression because of death. That’s not something to enjoy.”
“So what’s your deal with it?”
“I’m just embracing the face that it’s inevitable. I do that for myself. I will die eventually, or tomorrow-”
Shawn made a face; he didn’t like that thought.
“It doesn’t make it any easier when someone I know goes,” Ann continued. “You’d think with all the research I’ve done it would be. The ones we love leave this mortal plane, and all they leave is their absence. And that alone is a lot to process.”
“What’s the hardest part?”
“The what if’s.”
Shawn asked because he really wanted to know more about what happened to Stella. He had to know the things that led up to the tragedy, mostly because he knew Camila would ask for details, even if they were hard to hear.
He figured he should spill his side first.
“The last thing I said to Brian was to get the hell out of my room,” he began. “We were fighting, fighting over something so fucking stupid, and I was so pissed at him. That was our last interaction. He fell down the stairs because he was trying to find me in this big huge mansion…”
Ann sat up a little bit, hand over her chest. “Here?”
“Oh no, not here. I was staying at a friend’s house in London for a work thing. Place was huge, easy to get lost in,” Shawn clarified. “Brian, Andrew, all of them were leaving back to Toronto and I didn’t want to go just yet. Part of it was because I was still pissed. Maybe if I had run into him first before he fell… If I hadn’t kicked him out of my room a few nights prior… If I was less of an asshole…”
“Maybe you would have slipped on the stairs,” Ann told him. “Maybe you guys would have had an even bigger argument later that would have ended your friendship. There’s no way to tell, and sometimes that’s what sucks the most.”
Huh. Most people tell him not to dwell on it. No wonder Ann was a shrink now.
“Losing someone is one of the hardest things we, as humans, have to face,” she said. “It’s not easy in the slightest. Besides, the grieving period takes about three to five years, so you - we - are still in the beginning stages of it. Thinking about the what ifs, what you want to change, what you wish you could say to Brian - all of that is normal.”
The two of them let those words settle for a moment. Shawn’s eyes were a little misty, and redirecting the topic was probably not going to help. But he laid his stuff out on the table.
“What about you?” he asked.
“Me?”
“Your what ifs?”
Ann paused, looking around the room. “What if I had put my Master’s to use and noticed the goddamn signs?”
Shawn watched her, hoping she would at least return the eye contact.
“I’m an expert in this shit,” she said. “I have the years of school, the degrees, and the licenses for detecting things like this. I only figured it out the moment her dad called me.”
“How do you detect when someone is suicidal?”
“In her case, she was elated. When someone makes that decision, they reach a state of euphoria because they know their pain is about to end.”
“But Stella was always-”
“Believe me, I know. I hadn’t talked to her since graduating in Toronto, so I thought she hadn’t changed at all. But I would see on her social media, she just moved back to her parents’ house in Florida, and she hinted that she wasn’t happy about it.”
As if Shawn couldn’t take another blow. Come to think of it, he never heard much about Stella’s home life. He didn’t even think that it could be a negative place for her.
“I was in Jacksonville for work,” Ann continued, “so I hit her up, and we met up for lunch. We talked for about an hour, and she said that I was always a good friend and college wife and that she’ll always love me. And my stone hearted ass just said ‘cool, you don’t suck’ and that was that. A month later, she’s as blue as the pills she took.”
“Ooo…” Shawn sighed, cringing at that mental image. Sweet, warm hearted Stella cold and lifeless. Call it morbid, awful thinking, but Shawn wished Brian looked like that in death instead of the bloody mess he turned out to be.
“Yeah. And her parents had her embalmed and put in an airtight casket, but that’s a whole other rant.” Ann waved it off and lied back down.
Shawn didn’t know what else to do except lie down as well. While sharing the stories of how their friends died, he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit closer to Ann. The first time they met, it took fighting tooth and nail to get her to open up. Now, Shawn felt okay silently reached for her hand, and tenderly holding it in his.
Both of them winded up at the same awards show. Both lost their best friends. Both got the same type of tattoo to honor them. Neither of them anticipated meeting again. This couldn’t be a coincidence.
_______
goth gf taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @someoneunimportantxx @goldenmndes @calyumthomas @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @parkeraul @havethetimeeofyourlifee @chillingbythesea @wronglanemendes @softmendesss @peruvian-bae @theprivatewritings
#shawn mendes#shawn mendes fanfic#shawn mendes imagine#shawn mendes blurb#shawn mendes smut#shawn x oc#shawn x goth gf#if yall r pissedt abt brian#it had already been establishedt#i made my bed imma fukin lie in it
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vows and fireballs
rating: g word count: 2726 one shot
people in the discord were talking about a fjorester wedding and i couldn’t sleep; so have “marion gets kidnapped as someone attacks her house on fjorester’s wedding day fluff”
AO3
“Are you nervous?” Beau asked from her place next to Fjord under an archway of pastel flowers.
For the first time since Fjord had met Beau, she wasn’t wearing blue.
“Nope.”
She looked dubious, which he supposed was fair.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Huh.”
He looked at her then, “Am I supposed to be?”
Beau seemed to seriously consider the question. “I don’t know. Weirdly, that wasn’t part of my studies at the Cobalt. I guess I just figure everyone is nervous before making monumentally life changing decisions.”
Fjord could understand that, but nothing about what he was about to do felt particularly life changing. It was like the first time he’d stepped on a boat; there was a rightness to standing here in Marion’s garden, waiting for Jester to come through those glass doors and walk down the aisle.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t question his decisions or why he was making them.
“You know,” Beau started as Fjord stared at the doors in question, wondering how much longer he’d have to wait before he was married. Would it be rude if he just went upstairs and got her? “I was looking at the seating chart for the reception and I happened to notice something.”
Fjord pressed his lips together in an effort not to smile or laugh, because he knew what she was about to say. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Keg and Reani are sitting at the same table. Next to each other.”
“Really?” Fjord asked, feigning surprise and didn’t even try to be convincing about it. “That’s weird.”
“Fuck you, Fjord.”
“Wasn’t me,” he told her, finally laughing and holding his hands up in surrender. “Jester thought it would be funny.”
“I’m going to kill her.”
“Please don’t, I’d at least like to make it to the honeymoon.” Fjord glanced up at the setting sun and figured they had to be close. He felt like he’d been standing at the altar for an hour. Caduceus was starting to grow more flowers on the archway and he was pretty sure that tree hadn’t been there a minute ago. “And just be glad I talked her out tracking down your ex from before the Cobalt.”
Beau’s eyes went comically large. “She wouldn’t.”
“She wanted to,” Fjord informed her. “I managed to convince her not to, but she was half a second from scrying on her and sending her an invite.”
“Fuck, man. I owe you.”
“You really do,” he agreed because the argument-Jester had insisted it was a ‘debate’-had gone on for nearly an hour. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, “I was thinking-“
Beau cut him off, her hand coming up to grip his shoulder to the point he thought it was going to bruise. “What the hell, Beau?”
“Do you hear that?” she asked, her eyes looking up at the sky above them.
“Hear wh-“ but he didn’t get a chance to finish the question because Beau was tackling him to the ground as a large sound exploded around them.
Not just sound he realized as he sat up, ears ringing.
The garden had exploded.
Flowers and people were scattered everywhere and a portion of the house was on fire.
“Jester,” Fjord whispered, getting up and running towards the house, the echoes of Beau’s warning a dim sound as he ran flat out towards the doors and up the stairs.
He could hear people screaming for help, and a part of him was pulled towards those sounds-he’d been charged with protecting people, with protecting the whole of nature, but his world came first.
And Jester was his world.
“Jester!” he yelled as he climbed the stairs and skidded at the door of her childhood bedroom. “Jester,” he called again, pushing the door open.
“I’m here,” he heard her call and his knees went weak with relief as he saw that she was okay.
“You can’t be here!” Nott was yelling from the balcony doors, her crossbow at the ready. “You can’t see the bride before the wedding, it’s bad luck!”
“I think we’ve passed that point,” Jester argued reasonably. Her hair was falling out of the pins a little bit, dust and debris covered her dress; she was so gorgeous Fjord was pretty certain his heart stopped. “What was that?”
“Fireball,” Nott answered. “I recognize it as something Caleb’s done before.”
“Someone attacked the house?” she asked, disbelief coloring her voice. “On my wedding day!?”
Fjord walked across the room, some of the windows had been blown in and he could smell the acrid sent of smoke floating into the room. The fire was close. “We have to get out of here, Jessie.”
“Who would do this?” she demanded as she opened her armoire and took out her axe and component pouch, tying it around her waist where the Traveler’s symbol already hung. She’d been hoping he’d show up, she’d also been hoping the Gentleman would come, but thus far neither one had made an appearance.
Either way, Marion was supposed to be the one to walk her down the aisle.
“Where’s your mother?” Fjord asked, realizing Marion wasn’t in the room.
“I-“ she looked around the room, her brow lowering in confusion. “I thought she was here? Nott, did you see where my mama went?”
“She got a note,” Nott remembered, her eyes still focused on the garden outside where they could hear the shouts of people asking for help and other people responding that they were coming. He recognized a handful of voices and knew that, for now, things were covered outside. “Stepped outside and said she’d be right back.”
“Fjord,” she stepped towards him for the first time and wrapped her tiny fingers around his forearm. The women in his life were constantly bruising him. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t like it either,” he agreed. “Nott, you got this? Can you check on the others?”
“Go, I’ll message you when I know everyone is okay.”
Grabbing her hand with his Fjord let Jester out into the hall just another explosion rocked the house. “Fuck,” he bit out as they were thrown against the wall. “Shit, fuck.”
“Agreed,” Jester murmured as she hung on to him. “This a lot of magic.”
He heard the unanswered question in the statement, who would want to put this much energy into attacking them? “I mean, a lot of people hate us.”
“I’m going to cast sending and see if I can find Mama.”
“Not here,” he argued, pulling her down the stairs and into the dining room where Marion had sung the night before for their rehearsal dinner. He led her to the corner of the room and unsheathed his sword so he could protect her while she did her magic. “Okay, send it, but be quick.”
Jester nodded and quickly cast the spell, counting on her own fingers because Fjord was watching the room to make sure no one came out while she was in the magic. “Mama? Where are you? Are you okay? Someone’s attacking the house. I’m with Fjord and we’re okay, where are you? Are you okay?”
Fjord waited patiently for Jester to tell him what Marion had said, but he could hear footsteps above them. They needed to move sooner rather than later.
“Jessie?”
“He’s got her,” she answered, her voice panicked. “I didn’t even think-it’s been so long.”
Fjord lowered his sword and turned to face Jester whose face had gone pale blue. “Whose got her?”
“Sharpe.”
It took him a minute to remember the name; the powerful and embarrassed lord who Jester had humiliated by locking him out on a balcony in nothing but a girdle in full view of the city. He’d wanted her executed, but that had been years ago.
Surely he couldn’t have been holding a grudge this dangerous for that long.
“That’s absurd.”
“It’s the truth,” she told him as he put a hand on her shoulder before she could say more.
“I know it’s the truth. I believe you, I’m saying he’s absurd.”
“Mama says she’ll be okay but-“
“We’ll go get her,” Fjord assured Jester. “Do you know where she is? Where he’s taking her?”
Jester nodded and took his sword from him, cutting at the frothy fabric of her skirt till he could see the pink shoes and stockings she’d had underneath. There might be something seriously wrong with him, because he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so sexy in his entire life.
He was still staring when Jester handed him back the sword. “Fjord!”
Bringing himself back to the present he took his weapon and swung it once out of habit, loosening up his wrist for the battle that was certainly to come.
“EVERYONE’S OKAY ARE YOU OKAY WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU CAN REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE.”
Fjord winced at Nott’s magical shout, “We’re fine but someone’s got Marion. We’re going after her.”
“We’ll hold the fort here,” Caleb’s voice chimed in from the air. “There’s a handful of people attacking the house but we can handle them.”
“Sounds good,” Fjord replied and then relayed the conversation to his bride-to-be. ���You okay with this?”
Jester looked uncertain, lifting one shoulder in a kind of shrug. “This wasn’t in the wedding vows.”
“What are you talking about? I have a whole paragraph about rescuing kidnapped parents in my vows, you don’t?”
She smiled, which had been his intent, and together they stepped out of the big house and ran in the direction of Sharpe’s house because he was too stupid to have a hideout of any kind.
“My vows had a thing about piracy,” Jester said between breaths as they turned a corner.
“No more piracy?” Fjord clarified, and her grin was wicked when she looked over at him.
“More piracy,” she corrected. “At least once a year I want Captain Tusktooth make a return to the seas and take down at least one ship. The guys can come if they want.”
Fjord couldn’t believe he was laughing as he ran down main thoroughfare in the hopes of rescuing his soon to be mother-in-law on his wedding day, but wasn’t that the kind of life he’d signed up for when he’d proposed to Jester?
“Fair enough.”
“There, that’s the house.”
The building Jester pointed to was slate gray, without an once of color or style to it. “That’s one ugly ass house.”
Jester mumbled something under breath, a spell, but couldn’t remember which one. “Mama’s in the basement.” Locate creature. “Do we have a plan?”
“Do we ever?” Fjord asked her seriously. “No moths, though.”
“No,” she agreed and there was something incredibly dangerous about her as she stared at the house which contained her mother. Fjord knew better than anyone exactly what Jester Lavorre was capable of, but he’d bet all his money Sharpe had no idea what he’d brought on himself. “But when we see him, I get the first shot.”
Fjord took her hand and kissed her knuckles, “After you, sweetheart.”
Jester walked across the street and together they stepped into the shadows created by the setting sun and slipped into an open window and on nearly silent feet made their way to the basement door where they could hear Marion viciously mocking Sharpe from the room below.
“Quiet!” an unknown male voice shouted, probably Sharpe himself.
“Let me go, Sharpe. You’re making me miss my daughter’s wedding.”
Fjord was impressed at how steady she sounded, considering she hadn’t been out of her house in close to a decade.
“Your daughter is going to be dead before the night is out, the little bitch is going to pay for what she did to me.”
“I said,” Marion began, her voice taking on a quality which made Fjord feel a little queasy. “Let me go. You will untie me, and your comrades will stand down as I leave the house.”
There was a shift in the air, Fjord could recognize powerful magic when it moved around him.
“Your mother has magic?” Fjord whispered.
“Of course she does.” Fjord rolled his eyes at Jester’s tone because how was he supposed to know if no one told him? “She doesn’t use it very often anymore, but you can always catch a bit of it when she sings.”
Well, that certainly explained a lot.
There was a creak on the stairs and Fjord pulled Jester back and away from the doorway, standing in front of her. Not that she needed his protection, but he’d rather take the hits than risk her going down. He might be able to heal, but his magic had nothing on hers.
Fjord briefly wished for his shield, raised his sword, and prepared to strike as soon as the person stepped through.
“Mama!” Jester cried, pushing past Fjord to hug her mother. “You’re okay!”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Marion assured her daughter, her smile completely calm and unworried. “I told you I would be, but we should go. The charm I cast on Sharpe and his friends won’t last long and I’d like to get the guards here before he comes to his senses. Jester! What happened to your dress?”
Fjord sheathed his sword as Jester explained.
Everything was going to be fine.
“I mean, we can always just do it another day,” Beau suggested pragmatically as the Mighty Nein assessed the damage of the ruined wedding décor.
They were all in various states of disarray; when they’d gotten back with Marion the fight was beginning to die down and Beau was the only one who really looked the worse for wear. Her charcoal gray clothes were cut and splattered with the blood of Sharpe’s men.
Both Reani and Keg were watching her with avid interest, but Beau had yet to notice that.
Caleb and Nott only looked like they’d fallen in some dirt and given enough time would probably be presentable, but Fjord’s clothes were filthy from Beau throwing him to the ground and Jester still wore her cut up dress.
Not exactly the classiest of wedding attire for any of them.
“Jessie?”
She scrunched her nose and studied the damage. “I don’t mind waiting if you don’t.”
Fjord thought about waiting, about trying to plan this all again and getting all his friends and family in one place for a second time. Sure they could just do it all tomorrow, but he’d already waited long enough to marry Jester. He really didn’t want to wait another day.
“Fuck it, let’s do this now.”
Cheers rang out from his friend and from the people nearby who could hear and in a flurry of movement Nott began corralling people near the raised stone patio, Marion standing just inside the house.
She’d been all confidence in Sharpe’s house, but the moment they’d started walking home he could see the terror take over. They barely made it back to the house, Marion’s knuckles nearly white by the time she crossed the threshold.
Jester had made a quiet, sad sound as Marion closed the front door and ceremoniously locked it behind her.
Fjord imagined it would be a long time before she left again.
“You ready, partner?” Jester asked as she sidled up beside him. Caduceus waited at the broken windows, beneath the blackened walls of the second story, a new archway of flowers already growing around him.
He laughed at the term and held out his arm to her.
They’d walk down the aisle together.
“I’ve got some stuff in my vows about loving you forever.”
Her smile went soft as she looked up at him, “I might have written down some things which made Beau cry when she read them. About never letting you go and fighting for you for the rest of forever.”
Fjord swallowed back his own tears and moved to take a step forward but Jester held him back. When he looked down at her she was glancing at the crowd and then back at him, keeping her voice low enough he had to lean forward to hear it.
“There was also some sex stuff, but Beau convinced me to take that part out and save it for later.”
And with that, Fjord and Jester walked down the aisle on a laugh, covered in bruises and dust and victory, with promises in their heart they fully intended to keep.
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hello dearest (not) anon, excuse me if I don’t reply to you directly but as I want to block each single one of you I’ll keep the original so I can lovingly delete it after I’m finished. :)
now, I was this tempted to just delete or troll you, but as y’all have honestly seemed to not realize that you’ve gone overboard and that I didn’t want to get further involved with this dumb shipwar but you’re basically making me go like
so fine, whatever, I’ll address this one because it has all the single dumbest arguments we could have and I kind of want it for safekeeping, so.
point one: starting an ask with you freaks and then complain we don’t complain about jaime calling brienne ugly makes me wonder if you actually re-read your asks before you send them or if you even bother to make sure they’re internally coherent, because sorry but you’re basically saying this entire fandom is made of **freaks** which last I know was not a compliment to anyone’s aesthetic, so you already don’t have ground to stand on;
point two: stupid is actually a universally degrading word when referred to a specific person and used to undermine their intelligence, especially if continuously repeated. now, in *itself* it’s not damning - an argument can be stupid, a discussion can be stupid (I mean I’ve seen people savagely arguing over who had to wash the dishes, that’s a stupid reason to argue with anyone), a law can be stupid (all of italian bureaucracy is definitely a challenge for anyone for one), of course it’s all about how it’s used. for one, if used ironically and not meaning it, as in ‘my stupid son charging against dragons’, it’s not damning either, because wow, wait a moment, every single person who says that also knows that jaime is doing that out of ptsd fight instinct and that there’s nothing funny about it, but as we are people outside the narrative who love the character, we don’t mean it in a demeaning way. obviously charging at a dragon is suicidal, and it’s exactly what he’d have done (probably also in book canon I’ll give them that), but we all know why he did it, and btw dork is nowhere near on the same level as the stupidest lannister, it can be meant positively as well and tbh it’s used way more positively than that - I mean, there’s dorks in love and idiots in love as ao3 tags, no one uses them to insult the people in the ship they’re writing about now, do they? however, the whole thing about ‘the stupidest lannister’ is completely different because it implies cersei, someone jaime trusts implicitly and who’s his sister and, to him, also his lover and his other half - going by your own/their own definition - continuously demeaning his intelligence. now, I don’t think you quite realize how emotional abuse works or how that works, but let me tell you: if people you are that close with or have a fundamental impact in your upbringing (your parents, your siblings, your first teachers etc.) tell you that all the time, you end up believing that. and what comes with it? if you think you’re more stupid then them, then it means that their decisions will be better than yours because you’re too dumb to take them properly and they’re not, and you won’t even start to wonder that maybe they’re wrong and you’re right, and it’s an exceedingly common thing that happens between abusers and their victims, ie convincing them that they’re not smart enough to know what’s good for themselves, and so coming from cersei who also doesn’t want jaime to put two and two together and realize he’s a different person from her and actually, worse, doesn’t even consider the possibility that he might actually not be a different person from her, it’s straight up emotional abuse of the ugliest kind and it has nothing to do with *fans of the character* calling him a dork over his utter lack of smoothness when hitting on people, because we know why he doesn’t know how to hit on people. other than that, in the show they made jaime canonically dyslexic. now, if you even don’t get that calling someone stupid for thirty years will do a great fucking lot of damage to them (I mean, I’ve been told I was snobbish for three years by a teacher I didn’t even particularly admire in my formative years and I still have to finish unpacking the consequence of that shit, I can’t imagine being constantly demeaned by your relatives or people you trust implicitly) I doubt you’ll realize the fucking wrongness depths of the implication that the only lannister with a canon in-show learning disability is *the stupidest lannister* especially when there’s still the stigma about dyslexic people being dumb because *they can’t read* when that’s not true at all and they just need different ways of approaching a text and then they’re good to go and it has nothing to do with how smart or no they aren’t, but I’m going to tell you: it’s ableist as hell, falls under harmful stereotypes about dyslexic people that tv shows should go against, not reinforce and it has really disgusting connotations, so excuse me if I am pressed about it and other people are pressed about it and your opinion belongs in the trash and I really hope you’re not a teacher not are planning to become one;
point three: now we go at how you don’t get at all how those two work and how brienne’s character is structured, but here, let me explain you: a) jaime calls her ugly when they meet and after he loses the hand he only calls her ugly in his head and/or to her face when he’s irritated or she has misunderstood his intentions or he feels hurt by the fact that she misunderstood his intentions (when he gives her oathkeeper in the books), and in the show he stopped mid S3. on the other side, she calls him an oathbreaker and all the worst things she can call him - if you missed it, they insult each other and they start their relationship thinking the worst of the other person, and even with that he spends the entire first chapter of his in asos checking her out but you didn’t notice that I suppose; b) jaime does not call her ugly at all after he punches ronnet connington and in the show again he hasn’t since mid s3, and given that they were supposed to start as enemies and she insulted him right back, I won’t be here being pressed about them trading insults when the entire point of the story is that they stop insulting each other after they get to know each other and get closer to each other, or have you missed that too? c) the fact that he calls her ugly is actually narratively important because let me explain you something that you don’t know because you obv. haven’t read brienne’s chapters: most of the time she remembers being hurt by other men when it comes to her feelings, it’s when she found out they lied to her about her looks. she got her first trauma related to her looks when her septa told her that people who called her pretty were lying, and she got hurt during the bet with hyle and so on because those people were courting her and telling her nice things and then they were all planning on screwing her literally and metaphorically, so if someone went to brienne and told her ‘oh hey you look hot as hell let’s bang!!’, she wouldn’t believe them. let me guarantee you, she wouldn’t. the fact that jaime did not compliment her at all if not going all the way around to do it about her fighting prowess and maskerading it as insults means that he never lied to her about her looks or about anything, and the fact that then he changes and genuinely respects her and trusts in her and gives her THE THING SHE’S WANTED MOST IN HER LIFE ie a sword and a knightly quest and someone actually believing she could be a knight and carry out her vows instead of thinking she was a joke weights a lot more than any insult he might have thrown at her in the past and actually, she can trust him to not make fun of her/she can know for sure he’s not joking exactly because he never had a problem with calling her ugly (which she knows she is according to westeros beauty standards in the beginning) nor to tell her mean things when he thought them, and so since he never lied to her before and she can see that he changed, she has no reason to think he could or would lie to her after, and considering that most of her trauma is tied to having been lied to in that sense... sorry but no, it doesn’t bother me at all because if it’s an enemies to lovers kind of trope I really don’t think I’d expect him to gift her flowers at their first meeting. I mean, *enemies* to *lovers* implies that at the beginning they don’t like each other, or did you forget that words have meanings? also, hairy is not an insult. I suppose that for people who insult other people about the peach fuzz mustache most women have it would be an insult, but let me tell you: it’s not. and given that I’ve seen posts over posts about how it’s an expression of feminism to not shave I really think you haven’t even checked that discourse lately - personally I don’t care for it but like, having body hair is not automatically a crime nor a reason why you’re unattractive. get lost. and like, excuse me if insults traded by people who didn’t know each other and that they both outgrew when they did know each other are nowhere near on the same level of making someone think they’re too fucking stupid to take their own decisions and always have to follow someone else’s lead, and excuse me if I’m way more than mildly worried that anyone in this fandom would look at that stupidest lannister bullshit and actually don’t feel horrified at it.
now, honestly, can y’all just stop with this grasping at straws which happens to also be ableist as hell while pretending to give a fuck about brienne as a character - because you don’t, it’s obvious from how you don’t understand her issues at all - and keep to your own lane or what? because honestly, it’s obvious no one has ever called you ugly in your life and that you never had to deal with anyone demeaning your intelligence because you were most likely too busy demeaning other people’s, but you’ve been at this bullshit since 2013.
didn’t you get bored?\
#jaime x brienne#jaime lannister#jb wank#ableism cw#receipts#only slightly less toxic than chernobyl's ruins#anti-cersei lannister#anti-cersei#anti-lannincest#anti-jaime x cersei#emotional abuse cw#dyslexia mention#sigh#can't y'all be more obvious just DON'T
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fic: Lover (2/3)
Link to chapter 1 | A03 Link
It was surprising how easily writing to Essek fit into Caleb’s daily routine. Alarm spell, putting up the dome, counting spell components, preparing spells for the next day, writing in his other notebook, then writing to Essek. He often wrote whole paragraphs about what had happened that day, sometimes even writing pages if it had been a particularly eventful day. Sometimes, if things had been timed just right, Essek was able to respond to his messages immediately, and they were able to talk to one another via text, trading messages back and forth, but most days Caleb wrote in the evenings, and woke up to a response from Essek in the morning.
He wrote about everything, from the mundane to the extreme. He still filtered his thoughts somewhat. He wasn’t stupid; he knew anything he wrote to Essek could still end up in the Bright Queen’s ear. But it was still nice to just talk to him, to write down every crazy thing that had happened in his daily life and have someone else to respond to.
--
They had made it to Port Damali and had the comfort of an inn, for once. A disastrous day had led them to splurge a little bit, at Fjord’s insistence, that they each deserved a “goddamn bed for the night.” By some miracle, there were even enough rooms for them to each have a private room, if they wanted, which most of them insisted on for at least an evening.
As was habit, he had taken the time before bed to write to Essek:
Fjord almost got sacrificed to a volcano today. Turns out Jester’s not just in a cult, but is actually the leader of said cult. She’s not having a good time right now. On the plus side, the dunamancy spells you’ve taught me keep saving us: Fjord not dead right now because I managed to use the immovable object spell on his whip, keeping him from falling. So thank you, Essek; my friend isn’t dead because of what you taught me.
He yawned and put the book away, intending on sleeping when he felt the vibration of the book, meaning Essek had responded. He pulled it back out immediately. In swirly, elegant handwriting was Essek’s response:
I’m glad Fjord is okay. Jester is the leader of a cult? Why am I not surprised? I’m glad the spell came in handy for more than pranking. No one was injured, I hope?
Caleb grinned, and pulled out his quill to respond.
A few of us are injured. Veth was shot in the leg by a crossbow, and Beau’s shoulder is fucked up, and Yasha is perpetually injured, but we’re fine other than that. Actually get to sleep in a bed tonight, so that will help. How was your day?
He waited a moment to see if Essek would respond, and sure enough the book vibrated again.
Well, no one got sacrificed to a volcano, but to be honest I wouldn’t have minded throwing Imyrn into one if we’d been anywhere near one.
Ha. That’s the accountant, right?
Indeed. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the fact that magic costs gold to cast. “Is there any way we can use charcoal instead of obsidian for our shadow warriors?” No, asshole, that’s not how magic works.
Caleb rolled his eyes. Every wizard in Exandria wishes that’s how it worked.
Right? I wish he’d go bother someone else’s department and leave mine alone.
Caleb frowned into his notebook, and drew a sad frowny face. I’m sorry. It sounds frustrating.
It is. There was a pause, and then the notebook vibrated again. When will you be back in Rosohna?
A good question; one Caleb wished he knew the answer to. Hopefully in the next few days. Fjord has some people he wants to talk to while we’re here in Port Damali, and we may stop by Nicodranas so Jester can see her muther since she’s so distraught. He paused, tapping the quill on the notebook as he thought carefully about what he wanted to say next. I miss you.
I miss you, too. I wish you were here tonight.
Caleb sat the quill down and looked around. The inn was quiet, and his alarm spell was already in place, but that didn’t stop him from taking a moment to stand up and double check to make sure the door was locked before he crawled back into bed, and to Essek’s messages.
Oh? He wrote back cheekily. And what would you do if I was there tonight?
It took Essek a moment to respond: I’d take you to bed with me, darling.
Fuck. That was what he was hoping he’d write. Would you? He wrote back, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. I thought we were taking things slow.
They were, of course, though it wasn’t by choice but rather proximity. There was a point in Caleb’s life when he enjoyed how much the Nein constantly traveled; now he found he wished they could stay in one place (Rosohna) long enough for him to spend more time with Essek.
Writing like this helped, of course, but it was nothing compared to actually being with Essek.
Well, maybe I wouldn’t. But I’d want to. I think about it all the time. Caleb groaned while reading. Are you alone?
Yes. Are you?
Yes.
Caleb slid one hand under the covers, cupping himself lightly. Then tell me what all you want to do to me, liebling.
--
He would sooner burn his notebook before ever letting anyone ever look at what he and Essek had written to each other that night. But whenever he had the time and the privacy, he found himself rereading what they’d written over, and over, and over again.
--
It took weeks to get back to Rosohna. After leaving Port Damali, Caduceus had had another vision from the Wildmother, which led to them hunting down the Stone family and reforging another sword, this time for Yasha. It had taken three and a half weeks and had taken them trapezing through the ruins of Draconia, but it was finished, finally.
“Ooh, we should take a break and go to Nicodranas!” Jester suggested, and Caleb felt like he could kill her. “We can go see my mama and Nott’s family!”
“Alternate suggestion: you can go to Nicodranas, and I’ll go back to Roshona and see my boyfriend. We have teleportation circles in both locations; it costs very little for us to go to both places.”
“Sure, let’s split the party. Nothing bad has ever happened because of that, right?” Beau snarked at him.
“Jester has Sending . It takes only a few moments to send a message, and it takes about a minute to teleport. Hopefully nothing attacks us while we’re in two of our home bases.”
“I want to go to Rosohna,” Yasha suggested, her quiet voice supporting Caleb’s idea. “I have bracers there that I never picked up.”
“Oh shit, right, I forgot about that. And I should probably check in with Darion if we’re going there.”
Fjord shrugged. “So we’ll split the party. Caleb can send Jester, Nott, and myself to Nicodranas, and Yasha, Beau, and Caleb can go to Rosohna. Caduceus, where do you want to go?”
The firbolg paused thoughtfully. “I suppose I should check on my garden. I’ll go to Rosohna.”
“And someone should check in with Essek and the Bright Queen, make sure they don’t need us for anything. But I suppose Caleb’s got that covered, huh?” Jester winked, nudging him in the stomach with her elbow.
“I promise if I do nothing else, I’ll be checking in with Essek,” Caleb promised them, keeping his face neutral despite the excitement building in his chest. (It had been weeks. He was allowed to want like this, wasn’t he?)
“Checking in with his pants , more likely,” Beau mumbled. Then “Ow, fuck, it was a joke , Nott!”
“You leave Caleb alone! He’s allowed to be excited about seeing his boyfriend!”
While they were conversing, he pulled out his blue notebook and sent a quick message Essek’s way. Good news! I’m coming back to Rosohna for at least an evening but hopefully longer!
The response was almost immediate. That’s great! There is a formal occasion tonight that requires my presence that I must attend--would you like to join me? It’s bound to be boring but the food with be free.
He was in the process of writing out his acceptance when another of Essek’s messages appeared instead. Actually, extend the invitation to the rest of your group as well. It’s a celebration dinner; the Heroes of the Dynasty should be in attendance. We would have sent out a formal invitation weeks ago, but you guys have been out for awhile.
He scratched out what he had started to write, and instead wrote: Will do.
He shut his messenger book gently. “Change of plans. We’re all going to Roshana. They’re having a fancy formal celebration and would like the Heroes of the Dynasty to make an appearance tonight.”
Jester gasped. “A fancy formal thing? Oh, we get to go shopping! ”
“Oh joy,” Fjord deadpanned.
There was a rush of voices as everyone began discussing what they wanted to do, or where, or what order they should do things.
“Sorry, Veth,” Caleb knelt down beside his friend, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know you wanted to see your family.”
She shrugged. “It’s fine. I like fancy, formal things,” she paused thoughtfully. “Actually, could you ask Essek if I can bring Yeza and Luc? They may want to come to Roshana for the party and then stay the night.”
“I can ask.”
Essek didn’t mind, and neither did anyone else in the Dynasty; the formal affair was a celebration of the Luxon, the night before the Day of Light celebration in the capital. It’s the first time we’ve had a Beacon of the Luxon home for the Day of Light in almost a century, thanks to your efforts. Essek had written. So bring whoever you want.
That made the excitement of the group go up. It had been afternoon in the ruins of Draconia, but it was still early morning in Nicodranas when they showed up--once again without warning--in Yussah’s tower, and then again in the Lavish Chateau. Jester had tried to convince her mother to come to the evening’s celebration in Rosohna, but the Ruby of the Sea couldn’t be convinced to travel to a foreign city, even just for an evening. Yeza had been pleased to be invited, however, and Luc was excited about magical travel and seeing where his mama worked.
The rest of the day had been a bit of a hurried blur after that; there was shopping to be done, first by selling some of the ruins of Draconia they had managed to grab while traveling to meet the Stones. It had earned them quite a bit of coin, and Jester had insisted that they spend at least part of it on formalwear for the evening. Caleb found he didn’t mind too much; they had the gold to spend, and after weeks of not being able to see Essek, he wanted to impress him if he could.
He ended up buying several outfits of different levels of formality, settling on a dark blue and silver outfit for the evening that, according to various members of his group, brought out the color of his eyes nicely. With Yasha’s help, he shaved off the monstrosity of a beard that had grown in the weeks they spent traveling. He ended up not getting cut up this time, too, which was a bonus. He even got a haircut, trimming several inches off of his ponytail so that his hair wasn’t quite as wild as it had been.
He wasn’t the only one cleaning their act up: both Fjord and Beau had touched up their undercuts, which had gotten ridiculously shaggy since the last time they were in Rosohna. Veth, Jester, and Yasha had opted to keep their hair long, but took the time to braid their hair into a formal updo. Even Yeza ended up shaving his sideburns down a bit, although whether it was because everyone else had or he wanted to do it for his wife, Caleb didn’t know.
Before he knew it, it was evening at the palace of the Bright Queen, decorated in its splendor to an extend Caleb had never seen. The palace was always a beautiful building, the architecture elven and crystalline, but tonight it shine with a magical sort of decadence, the sort of thing that came from a people who lived for thousands of years throughout time immortal, that outshined anything he’d ever encountered in the Empire.
Waiting at the palace gates for him was his lover of a month and a half, wearing the same long mantle he always did, a perpetual scowl on his face.
The scowl melted away the moment he saw him, however. “Caleb,” he said quietly, a soft and gentle smile on his voice, and Caleb wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t walking closer as he spoke.
Time seemed to freeze and blur around him as Essek kissed him, quickly but deeply. It wasn’t long enough--would forever be long enough?-- but it was better than nothing he’d lived with for weeks.
Time seemed to resume, and he heard giggling behind him as Essek pulled away. “And the rest of the Mighty Nein, it seems. Good evening.”
Right. He forgot they existed for a moment.
“You gonna kiss every guest to welcome them, or just the special ones?” Beau teased as Essek flushed a darker shade of purple.
“ Beauregard--”
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have. We are in public, after all,” Essek winced, rubbing the back of his head. He bowed before them, gesturing towards the front of the palace. “If you’ll follow me, please.”
He led them down a long corridor into the Bright Queen’s throne room, which had been decorated in white and silver drapery and crystalline decor. His companions scattered almost immediately: Beau and Yasha to the dance floor, with Jester dragging an uncomfortable looking Fjord behind them. Yeza and Nott had tackled the snack table, and Caduceus was nowhere to be found.
Essek stayed beside him, though, a respectable distance so that someone might mistake them as colleagues, at least until Essek leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Although I should tell you: my sister Meela knows about us.”
Ah. That explained the stiffness. “Meela’s the priestess, right? The oldest?”
“Yes. She’s the High Priestess, actually. She was injured in the Scourager attack months ago, so she’s been at home recovering, temporarily relieved of duty, and it’s led to her meddling out of boredom.” He scowled, his cheeks still a slight dark purple. “She’s insistent on meeting you tonight.”
“Essek, that is fine for me. You have nothing to worry about. I do not mind meeting your sister,” he nodded in the direction of an approaching woman. “Is that her?”
“That would be Meela, yes.” He gestured for her to approach. “Meela, this is Caleb Widogast, arcanist of the Mighty Nein and retriever of the Beacon. Caleb, my oldest sister Meela Thelyss, High Priestess of the Luxon.”
She was plump in a way most drow were not, and her skin more gray compared to Essek’s deep purple. But they were almost certainly related in some fashion: they had the same eyes and the same mouth, although her smile was a bit sharper. She studied Caleb with the scrutiny of a woman who spent long years studying other people, although it was hidden behind kind-looking eyes.
She seemed familiar to Caleb, too, but he chalked it up to her resemblance to Essek. “A pleasure,” she shook his hand, her nails long and sharp. “My, but aren’t you an unexpected surprise? Handsome,” she ran a hand down the side of his face, brushing a stray curl behind his ear. “I like the long hair.”
“ Meela-- ”
“Oh, hush , Essek, I’m not going to embarrass you.” She winked at Caleb, as if to tell him that embarrassing her little brother was her favorite hobby. “It is an honor to have the Hero of the Dynasty here this evening for our celebration. You must tell me more about yourself; my brother has been surprisingly tight-lipped about this whole affair. I had to practically torture him just to get him to admit he was dating you!”
She wrapped an arm around Caleb’s, dragging him away from Essek.
He then proceeded to spend the next half hour going through what felt like the most bizarre interrogation of his life; Meela had wanted to know everything about him, or so it seemed. Where had he grown up? Who taught him magic? Did he regret leaving the Empire? Did he have any friends or family still back in the Empire, or was he loyal to the Dynasty completely? Surprisingly few of her questions involved his relationship with Essek: she seemed more interested in who Caleb was a person and where his loyalties lied than they fact that he was dating her brother.
Luckily, it was time for dinner, and Meela was called away to proceed over the meal, giving Caleb a bit of a reprieve. Essek’s face was flushed as he led Caleb to the table where the meal would be served.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, floating beside Caleb as they walked. “She’s never cared about anyone else I’ve ever dated! I don’t know why she felt the need to interrogate you like that--”
“It’s probably because I’m human,” Caleb pointed out as they joined the crowd. “None of your other boyfriends have been human, have they?”
“No. Well, one was a half-orc, but,” he sighed. “You’re probably right. Still, I apologize. This wasn’t how I wanted the evening to go.”
Feeling invisible by the crowd, Caleb reached down and squeezed Essek’s hand. “Well, the night is still young.”
They didn’t get to sit next to each other, but they did get to sit across from one another, which was a blessing in and of itself. Caleb had to practically jump over Fjord to stop him from sitting across from Essek by accident, but it was fine by the end.
Dinner was served over four courses, including dessert. There was some hesitation on how to eat--the food was served with twin sticks as opposed to forks and spoons, and that had been a lesson in and of itself. Caleb knew how to use them a little bit just because he had eaten out before with Essek in the past; his friends, however, were hilarious in their attempts, much to the thankful amusement of the Bright Queen and her entourage.
He didn’t get to monopolize Essek’s attention, either; a fierce but friendly debate over the nature of reincarnation had sparked across their table, and Essek had Opinions, it seemed, and a need to share them. Beau also had opinions, as did the Minister of Labor, a broad-shouldered bugbear who sat on the Bright Queen’s council not far from them. On the other side of Caleb, Yeza, Caduceus, Nott and the elderly goblin advisor seemed to be discussing the medical properties of mushrooms.
He’d just have to find his own entertainment, then.
Coyly, he ran his foot against the back of Essek’s shin, teasing him lightly. But to his surprise, his boyfriend didn’t respond to his touch, too busy yelling at Beauregard about how wrong she was.
...Perhaps he was simply distracted?
It didn’t matter; soon, Caleb was dragged into a discussion with Fjord about magic, which the Bright Queen herself joined in for.
The next course was served, and tempers were soothed. The discussion at the table was now about some sort of drow sporting game, of which Essek only had occasional polite commentary to offer and seemed almost as bored of the conversation as Caleb. Fjord, Beau, and Jester were being invited to play in a game the next day--an invitation extended to Caleb as well, but which he and Essek both declined, more interested in a game of a different sort.
Caleb tried playing with him again, running his foot down the entire length of his leg, but once again Essek ignored him.
How odd .
The third course was served, but Caleb barely paid it any mind; instead, his mind was furiously trying to connect the dots.
Essek floated everywhere he went. He never went anywhere without his mantle, even to a formal event like tonight, or even a less formal date with Caleb. The mantle was almost certainly enchanted somehow, though Caleb’s detect magic spell couldn’t identify the spell school, which was practically a guarantee that it was dunamancy of some sort. His specialty was time, yes, but part of dunamancy was also the study of gravity .
When they were at the White Dragon’s den, Essek didn’t leave behind footprints in the snow. When the ball bearings were left on the Mighty Nein’s floor, he pushed the ball bearings away naturally.
Essek floated not out of pretension like Caleb had assumed when he first met him, but because he couldn’t walk. His mantle helped him levitate almost constantly. And based on how he hadn’t responded to Caleb’s flirting, he likely couldn’t feel anything in his legs, if Caleb was guessing correctly.
(Was that why he didn’t want to have sex…? Could he have sex, even, if--?)
An impulsive instinct overtook him, and Caleb kicked Essek under the table sharply, in a way that was impossible to ignore and, likely, should have hurt and caused some sort of reaction.
But Essek didn’t respond at all.
Schiesse, but he was right , wasn’t he? Essek was paralyzed, or injured, or something , and Caleb was a stupid fucking idiot who hadn’t noticed before now.
And the winner of the worst boyfriend in the world award goes to me , Caleb thought sullenly. Why hadn’t Essek told him? He could understand not saying anything before, when they weren’t dating and Caleb had technically been nothing more than Essek’s student; frankly, it wasn’t any of Caleb’s business. But now?
And sheisse , he had planned on asking Essek to dance after dinner! What an idiot he was!
Maybe Essek thought he knew already? Caleb tried to reason, but how was Caleb supposed to know? Or maybe he’s embarrassed? But what was there to be embarrassed by, Caleb wondered.
“--leb. Caleb?” Oh, someone was talking to him.
“What is it, Veth?” He asked, shaking himself out of his musing.
“Are you alright?” She asked, three seats away but full of motherly concern. “You haven’t touched your spider legs.”
“ Nein , I’m fine. I just filled up on bread earlier.” He lied, pushing his plate away from him. He couldn’t imagine eating at the moment.
Why hadn’t Essek trusted him?
Like you can even talk about trust, Caleb chided himself. How much about himself had he not told Essek, either? Trust was a two-way street, and it seemed like it was something they both struggled with.
He was about to spiral into another depressive episode when he felt a hand on his thigh. Looking down into his lap he saw a spectral mage hand, different from the one Nott normally summoned, a shimmering translucent purple slender hand, tracing circles onto his pants.
He looked up to see Essek wink at him before he continued his conversation with Yeza about plants.
Oh, but he was a fool, wasn’t he? Caleb felt his heart race in his chest, threatening to burst from the amount of affection he felt for the dark elf. Did it even matter that he and Essek didn’t trust one another? They still liked one another, and that alone was a feeling worth pursuing. How long had it been since he felt like this? Since he just simply liked something (or in this case, someone) exactly as it was, without feeling guilty or ashamed for wanting something?
He spent the rest of the meal playing with the spectral hand on his thigh, occasionally rubbing his foot against Essek’s leg, unsure if Essek could feel what he was doing, but no longer caring. It was enough to just touch him, even if Essek couldn’t touch him back.
--
After dinner there were speeches, and a lot of them. It was nearing midnight, and Caleb was reaching a point of exhaustion, yet still he stood beside Essek as other members of the council gave their speeches. The first was from the Minister of Labor, who had a grand speech about working together in the face of adversity, how what made Xhorhas strong was their willingness to come together.
“Do you have to give a speech like this?” Caleb inquired, which was met with an amused chuckle from his beloved.
“No,” Essek scooted closer to him, reaching down to take Caleb’s hand in his own. “Thankfully.”
Then the War General spoke about the war efforts and how Xhorhas was prevailing against the evils of the Empire. Caleb tried not to listen to him much, instead focusing on the warmth of Essek’s hand wrapped in his.
“I’d like to dance with you,” Essek whispered into his ear; Caleb felt himself blush. “Later, on the balcony, after most people leave. If you’d like.”
“I’d love to.”
Next came the Sky Sibil, who talked about the history of Xhorhas and the light of the Luxon, and the importance of the holiday and the promise of rebirth.
After the Sky Sibil, the Bright Queen herself spoke, her voice regal. No one spoke while she spoke; no one dared. She thanked the Mighty Nein for bringing the Luxon to the Dynasty, and she spoke about how they still searched for the remaining Beacons, but that she had faith they’d return to them soon enough.
“I realize it’s late in the evening,” the Queen promised. “But I’d like to close our evening with a prayer. High Priestess Thelyss, if you would be so kind…?”
Suddenly, Essek tensed. “Something’s wrong,” he explained, letting go of Caleb’s hand and stepping closer to the dias where the rest of the council stood.
What happened next was something out of a nightmare: Essek’s sister approached the Bright Queen, embracing her tightly before stabbing her in the back, quite literally.
The disguise spell wore off immediately, as her form shifted from that of Essek’s sister to that of a short human woman with cropped dark hair, her knife bloody as the Bright Queen’s body crumbled. He would recognize the woman anywhere, even if it had been sixteen years since he saw her last.
Astrid.
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Untouchable - Chapter 1
“You’re untouchable burning brighter than the sun and when you’re close I feel like coming undone.”
The colored lights that swept the club were pulsing in time to the music. Bodies were pressed against bodies, thumping along with the bass, grinding hips, and lacing fingers. When trying to speak to someone, if you weren’t yelling chances are that they might not hear you well enough to respond properly. This wasn’t Feyre’s typical scene. In fact, it wasn’t her scene at all. She wasn’t much of a partier, never had been. She’d always been too busy working to keep her family fed and sustained.
Tonight, though, she was celebrating starting class tomorrow, and she was very drunk. Not drunk enough to be in the crowd, but drunk enough that’d she had began to sway on the bar stool she was perched on. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw her friend drunk friend Suri grinding on an equally drunk stranger. Feyre couldn’t help but grin, and couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled out of her mouth as she turned back to her drink.
“What’s so funny?” A low voice murmured in her ear, and she got a chill down her spine. His voice was like a purr, and his lips had brushed along her ear ever so softly as he spoke. Feyre could feel his chest behind her as he leaned forward, taking a glass of amber liquid from the bartender. His arm was tan, with a swirling tattoo beginning at his wrist that disappeared all the way up beyond his rolled up black sleeve. Swiveling on the stool to face him, she had a hard time stopping the sharp inhale when her eyes met his. In the lights of the club, she could see that they were blue, but not the same stormy-blue that hers were. They were a deep blue, flecked with all shades of indigo and violet. Those eyes were absolutely breathtaking and she found herself itching to get home to pick up a paint brush and paint every fleck of color she saw. And as stunning as the eyes were, the man they belonged to was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
“My friend,” she nodded toward the dance floor, toward Suri, “is so drunk. We don’t do this too often. Well, I don’t. I don’t think I’ve been out and drunk in almost a year.” His eyes were sparked with amusement as he took in her appearance, her eyes with smoky kohl and mascara rimming them. Her full lips, bare save for the lip balm she had on. Feyre wore black jeans with holes in the knees and thighs, and a white t-shirt with small holes scattered through it and paint splatters just about everywhere. Now that he looked at her again, her jeans were splattered in paint, too. The only thing not splattered in paint was her skin and the leather jacket she wore. Something about it intrigued him, especially when he noticed the streak of paint in her hair. His long, slender fingers brushed the streak of purple that ran just above her ear, and disappeared into messy bun at the top of her head.
“It doesn’t look like you even planned to do this tonight, either,” he countered, an amused grin on his face. Feyre’s ears turned bright red as her fingers felt the crusted, dried paint in her hair. She groaned.
“I wasn’t. I thought I got it all,” she sighed, leaning back against the bar and sipping her drink through it’s straw. With a shrug, she gestured to her clothes. “Oh, well. It’s not like I look put together elsewhere,” she thought aloud, fingers absently picking at the frayed denim on her thigh. “Suri didn’t give me much of a choice, and I wasn’t home to change.” Her tongue flicked out, licking her bottom lip and he wasn’t subtle about watching the gesture. “I don’t know you,” she blurted, biting her bottom lip.
“Probably a good thing, you might not like me so much if you did,” At that, her brow furrowed, causing a wide grin to spread across his lips. “Rhys.”
“Feyre,” she replied, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Well, Feyre darling, let me buy you a drink.”
“I really shouldn’t, I might do something stupid like go home with you.” His grin didn’t falter.
“Surely that wouldn’t be so bad,” he countered, a brow arching as he took in the way her cheeks flushed.
“Surely you can find someone prettier to take to bed than a silly girl covered in paint.”
“Why on earth would I want to waste my time with anyone else when you are clearly the most beautiful woman in this room?” Feyre let out a laugh, her head tilting back slightly. Truly, Rhys thought, she had no idea how beautiful she was. It was killing him, but only in the best way. He winked. “Humor me.” His eyes trailed over her body when she slid from the stool, walking a few steps beyond him before looking at him over her shoulder, a wisp of hair falling into her face.
“Are you coming?”
~
Soft music pulled her out of a deep sleep, and as she felt around the bed for her phone, she came in contact with a warm body instead. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as a broad hand tugged her body to his, his face nuzzling into her back between her shoulder blades. She felt the distinct feeling of his lips pressing small kisses there once he had brushed her hair out of the way.
“Are you going to turn that off?” She asked, only to be answered by a soft grunt. Laughing, she rolled over in his arms and reached for his phone to turn the alarm off, only to squeal as his lips found hers before she’d reached it. Laughter bubbled out of both of them as they kissed, his body rolling on top of hers, followed by soft sighs as his lips grazed down her neck. This time when she reached for the phone, she successfully snagged it off the night stand and silenced the alarm, groaning when she saw the time. 7:00 AM. She had class in an hour.
“Don’t say it,” he groaned, his lips hovering just above her belly button.
“I have to go,” she laughed, running her fingers through his hair. Saying so pained her, he had been an exceptionally giving lover last night, and beyond that, they had stayed up half the night talking about everything. He was especially interested in her art, why she chose painting over other mediums, what her favorite piece she’d ever painted was. They didn’t talk all too much about him, he’d argued that there wasn’t much to tell, but she’d pestered out of him that his family was everything to him, he liked running, and he was half Illyrian. He’d even told her that he’d been trained with Illyrian warriors in their home country, and he could wield a sword like a cauldron-damned knight in shining armor.
“When can I see you again?” He murmured against her skin, the slight scraping of his five o’clock shadow against her lower abdomen causing an eruption of goosebumps all over her body.
“Tomorrow?” She hummed, her eyes fluttering closed as he pressed a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, and finally to the apex where she so desperately wanted his tongue. As if he’d heard the thought, he lifted her thigh over his shoulder and licked up her center. Feyre couldn’t tell if he was moaning in approval at seeing her tomorrow, or in approval of her taste. The blue-black hair that adorned his head was tangled in her fingers as he sucked on her clit gently, the sensation coaxing moan after moan out of her throat. “Rhys,”she moaned breathlessly.
“Hm?” His eyes flicked up to watch her, the way her mouth parted slightly as she moved against his mouth threatening to undo him completely. Slowly, he teased a finger at her entrance, laughing when she hissed at the contact. “Something the matter, Feyre darling?”
“You’re such a prick.” At that, he laughed again, but stopped his teasing and began pumping two fingers in and out of her while his tongue ravished her. His free hand grasped her fingers and interlaced them with his, and her free hand tugged on the ends of his hair. When she began to whimper, he knew she was close, so he added in a third finger and began pumping faster and harder. That wicked tongue flicked over her clit until she let out a throaty groan, which in turn had him moaning along with her. As she came around his fingers, he sucked on her clit, pulling louder moans out of her until her body fractured against the pleasure. Her breathing was labored and heavy, her body still aching for him to keep touching, to keep feeling. When he was sure that she was finished, he kissed back up her stomach, the valley between her breasts, and finally captured her mouth again. The golden brunette accepted his tongue into her mouth and he kissed her lazily, tongue swirling around hers in a way similar to how it had been elsewhere just moments ago. “I have to go,” she whispered, fingers dragging along his jaw, down his neck. With a loud sigh, he rolled off of her to grab his phone, which he then extended to her. Taking the hint, she typed in her name and phone number before handing it back to him, then slipped out of his bed.
Feyre felt his eyes on her the whole time she pulled on her jeans, then her bra. She disappeared into his closet while she pulled her hair into a messy knot on the top of her head, which had him propped up on an elbow waiting to see what she emerged with.
“I can’t very well wear my dirty shirt this morning,” she explained, pulling on a white t-shirt of his with a band logo on it. Rhys watched as Feyre’s fingers tied it up into a knot just above the waistband of her jeans, then pulled her leather jacket onto her shoulders. “Now you’ll have to see me again if you want it back.”
“I fully intend on seeing you tomorrow. We agreed.”
“That we did,” she said, grinning as she leaned over to kiss him, then moved to leave his bedroom.
“Thanks for the breakfast,” he called after her, only to be answered by her laugh floating back down the hall.
~
“I’ve heard the worst shit about this guy. Apparently he’s the biggest asshole and all of his classes are so incredibly hard. My sister had him three years ago, and she was ranting about him constantly,” the boy sitting next to Feyre rambled on to his friend as everyone settled into the advanced history class. Feyre had been hearing things like this ever since she’d started asking around about her professors. Apparently, Professor Asteria was the biggest jackass, hardass, pain in the ass - to exist ever. When signing up for classes, her advisor had even asked if she was sure she wanted advanced History with him, and not regular history with Professor Tarquin.
“Why be a college professor if you’re just going to be an asshole?” Someone else murmured behind her. It seemed to be all the buzz. Asteria was a complete and utter prick, which made Feyre all the more anxious about class, and she looked back over all of her supplies in front of her. Her laptop was open to a word-pad to take notes, she also had a notebook already open with a pencil and a pen next to it just in case she wanted to scribble something down by hand. Her phone was silenced and in her bag, and she’d managed to be fifteen minutes early. The professor wasn’t even there yet.
Next to her left hand, her phone lit up, and she glanced at the screen, unable to stop a smile from spreading across her face as she saw a text from Rhys.
As much as I hate to be needy, I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow to see you. How about tonight? – R.
Biting her lip, she typed Pick me up at 8, and hit send just as the classroom door swung open, 8:00 AM on the dot. Quickly shutting her phone off, she shoved it into the front pocket of her backpack as to not be distracted by the man she was totally smitten with. Feyre lifted her water bottle to her lips, taking a long swig as she heard a familiar voice from somewhere in the room.
“Alright everyone, good morning. I’m Professor Asteria,” his smooth, purring voice drawled. When her eyes landed on him, the water instantly spewed out of her mouth and all over her laptop. Instantly, she began choking on the water droplets that had somehow gone down the wrong pipe in her explosion, and everyone in the class was looking at her, including him. Her face was beat red, and his jaw dropped open and his eyes flashed with surprise for a moment before he put on a mask of indifference, the muscle of his jaw feathering as he clenched it and arched a brow.
For standing at the front of the room behind the professor’s desk, the voice that had introduced himself as her professor, was the same man that had his head between her legs not even an hour ago. Rhys.
#untouchable#feysand#feyrhys#rhysand#feyre archeron#professor au#acotar au#a court of thorns and roses#acomaf#acowar#acofas#my writing
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6 &10 - You/Dante. 3 - You/Robbie. 9 - Trevor :3c
Dante
6. Bodyguard Crush: How does your F/O make you feel safe?
EASILY. The mere presence of Dante is enough to make anyone feel safe. He’s tall as fuck, jacked and just eludes that kind of energy. And you know, he has a giant ass sword and guns. And also he’s half demon.
Even though Dante attracts all sorts of danger, it’s hard not to feel safe. Whenever we’re out, he always keeps an around my shoulder or keeps my hand in his. He always reassures me that he’d never let anything or anyone hurt me, and curls around me protectively while we’re sleeping.
Honestly Dante has his work cut out for him because I am need protection 24/7.
10. Love Epiphany: When and how did you realize you loved your F/O? When and how did they realize they loved you?
I feel as though I fell in love with Dante INSTANTLY. I didn’t realize until much later, but I had a strong connection with him from the get go. I realized it when I was having some introspection when I was at the shop by myself and was just sorta like “oh shit I love this asshole”.
And also Lady and Trish would constantly point this out to me. They would also point out that Dante liked me a lot but I never believed them.
Dante, however, never realized his feeling until YEARS after we met and I began working for him. It never occurred to him that he might be falling in love until I almost died and it suddenly hit him all at once. It was a constricting feeling in his chest at the possibility that he would have to live without me.
We were pretty much best friends who bickered all the time before we ever admitted to feeling More Than That.
I fell in love with Dante because of his heart and his overall good nature and over the topness. And he’s hot.
I don’t know why Dante fell in love with me though.
_________________________
Robbie
3. After-Action Patch-Up: How does your F/O react when they see you got hurt? How do they tend to your injury?
Luckily, injuries on me are rarely fatal or ever a huge deal. Unluckily, unlike Robbie, my injuries do NOT heal instantly like his. Bullet wounds, stab wounds and the like linger for hours depending on the situation. Robbie doesn’t like it at all.
He’ll fret, and fidget until the wounds are gone completely, and even then he’ll hover over me making sure I’m not limping or hiding any other injuries.
Seeing me get injured makes him angry, and when he’s angry his skull head makes an appearance. Shoot me and Robbie will turn you to ash, pretty much. I think he’s always being dramatic about it, but he doesn’t agree.
______________________________
Trevor
9. Laugh Of Love: What are some things your F/O does to make you laugh?
THE WORST/BEST JOKES. Trevor has so a never ending supply of just dumb jokes that range from family friendly to make a Nun’s ears burn red. He also has a habit of impersonating Alucard, acting as if the half-vampire can’t hear him even though he absolutely can.
Trevor also tells stories of his childhood and the stupid shit he would do after his family home was burned down and his family was excommunicated from the church. Most of the stories are sad, but some of them are quite funny. Like the time he had to run through a brothel after he stole some food, and had to hide under the bed of one of the women who worked there.
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Holy Shit Voltron Season 6
They did NOT pull their punches, WOW. This has gotta be my favorite season yet. Emotions were flying, space was beautiful/terrifying, important plot points were coming together, and the action was AMAZING.
*SPOILER ALERT IMMA GONNA START BLATHERING*
1. Lotor: Lotor is fucking insane and the creators played it PERFECTLY. His childhood was obviously one of continuous abuse, and I’m guessing the derision he faced for being a half-breed was worse than we’d thought, because he outright despises the Galra. He doesn't want to hear an apology from the monster that wears his mother's face, and when his father is mentioned, he FLIPS.
It’s hard to wholeheartedly hate him because we’ve seen the potential for goodness inside of him, but with no one to teach him that genocide or forced sacrifices is wrong, he's grown up warped and twisted. What he did to the Alteans strikes me as especially awful because he genuinely sees himself as a savior of Altea. I think his falling for Allura might have been partly because she was the first sincerely kind being he's interacted with, and partly because his ideals of a perfect Altean future included the Princess in it.
Whereas Zarkon felt like a dark, immovable force, Lotor is intelligent, flexible, and much, much scarier. He fooled the Paladins, his Generals, the Galra, the Alteans—like Lance said, he fooled everyone. If he emerges from that overcharge of Quintessence for a final boss fight, he's going to be utterly terrifying. Madness runs in his family, it seems, and it's rendered more disturbing by the tragic circumstances behind it. Lotor should be proud, though. He has more than outdone his father.
2. Allura: Her Altean magics gave the enemy an impossible advantage, but also saved everyone over and over again. When she blasts Lotor with that crazy amount of Quintessence, a part of me felt disturbed by how sad the situation was. This stupid war is forcing a kindhearted child to push someone she cared about (even if it was a relationship built on falsehoods) straight into madness's open arms. Fuck war, really.
Part of her wanted to save him from becoming even more of a monster, but Allura knows where her duties lie. She doesn't have the luxury of feeling sympathetic towards the enemy. She leaves Lotor behind to his madness. She doesn't even blink at destroying the Castle of Lions, the one last piece of Altea she has left. She's a lion goddess, and I love her.
3. Keith: THAT'S WHAT I CALL CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Marmora training plus two years in the presence of a solid parent figure and a space pet did him good. When he returned, he came back decisive, hardened, and completely ready for Black. Watching him claim his seat without a moment of hesitation gave me the shivers. The backstory episode was so good, too. This kid loves his fellow paladins with all his heart, and it's great to see his love giving him the strength to save the people that matter to him. Especially Shiro.
Oh, and you know that moment at the end of the fifth episode, when Keith nearly gives up on himself? Not caring about himself is what he does, what he’s used to. But at the last moment, he remembers how Shiro pleaded him not to give up on himself, and opens his eyes. That moment he decides to live is the definition of epic. (Also, HOLY FUCK THAT MARK WAS A SCAR??)
4. Clone Shiro: I can't believe they made us grow fond of the Shiro Clone through the D&D episode (showing off Takashi's dumb nerdy core, god I love him) before pulling the inevitable betrayal. Even though we saw it coming, they made us remember that part of him is the Shiro we love, so that the battle between the two Black Paladins could carry a sufficiently devastating note.
I now understand why Shiro seemed so obsessed with playing a Paladin. It was because a Paladin is what the Clone was programmed to be, the only thing he knew how to be. Add that to the fact that the last thing the Clone says is Keith’s name? Yeah, the Clone Angst was strong.
5. Shiro: I'd forgotten how good and pure the real Shiro was. His acceptance and encouragement is like hot chocolate. BUT WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOUVE BEEN DEAD ALL THIS TIME. WHY WOULD YOU DROP SUCH A BOMB SO MATTER-OF-FACTLY?
God, I'm ecstatic to have him back, grandpa hair and all. Thank you, Lion Goddess Allura. (Since this means he didn't go through any more suffering after the end of season 2, I'm strangely relieved?) (Does this mean we get a Shiro video diary now?)
6. Hunk: That first episode of him using his understanding of Galra culture to save an innocent planet was amazing. (I also really liked the command structure the team has. They readily defer to whoever has the most knowledge about a given task and follow that paladin's orders. It's a jarring contrast with how Clone Shiro was acting last season. But I digress.) Watching Hunk being a genius engineer in action is the best. I love one sarcastic, pessimistic child who basically has a heart of gold.
6. Pidge: She hesitated once and failed to stop the Clone Shiro from leaving with Lotor. When the Castle is hacked and her programs are being taken down, she pulls out her last resort card. Using that program is tantamount to admitting that she cannot trust her Shiro, and it is a crushing revelation for her, the team, and us. But she doesn’t hesitate again. (Always a joy to see her work her programming magic.)
7. Lance: The rapport Allura and Lance have with each other is the purest thing. He throws himself into harm's way for her and nearly dies. She jumps out of her lion to go help him when there's a radioactive flare moments away from coming into contact with her position. If one of them is sad, the other is there to offer emotional backup, without question. I dig this healthy supportive relationship.
What’s special about his character is that Lance is a solid presence to lean on for the others—whether he’s providing emotional support for Keith, Clone Shiro, and Allura, or taking command in the absence of a clear leader. Funny thing is, he can’t do shit for himself. His self-esteem is getting lower than ever. He openly cried (something he never lets himself do) thinking he failed Shiro. The self-hatred at his own mistakes and supposed uselessness is gonna blow up sometime soon, and I look forward to the day that time bomb finally goes off.
8. Coran: I could feel his grief for his dead planet, his sense of inadequacy compared to his grandfather. Very pleased that they gave us quality Coran Feels. (Also, Dungeonmaster/Dragon Coran was amazing.)
9. Krolia: Keith's parents fought so hard to protect the universe and their child. I can't forget the look in Krolia's eyes when the memory beam showed her a tiny Keith standing in front of a tombstone.
10. Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid: They're trying to be loyal to the Empire, trying to save their people. They're being faced with impossible decisions left and right, and I'm curious what they'll be doing next.
11. Haggar/Honerva: She is genuinely sorry to Lotor, but sorry can't erase a millennia's worth of abuse and she knows it. I wonder what she will think when she finds out her son has followed her and Zarkon's descent into madness? I wonder what plans she has in place. (Could she be the final villain?)
12. Team Voltron: Here's the thing. In previous seasons, they were Paladins, yes, but they were still kids. They messed around with cows, made stupid jokes, generally powered through hard battles with the help of luck and sheer determination. But this season, when they charged into battle screaming, shield up and sword drawn? They no longer felt like brave kids going to war. They felt like the motherfucking Defenders of the Universe, through and through. (I didn't think I'd ever be this into a show about color-coded robot pilots. I was wrong.)
The scene where they pack their things to leave the Castle behind communicates the sense that there is no going back for them, that they are permanently changed and will constantly continue moving forward. It’s exciting. I can't wait for them to return to earth as hot badasses and bask in the respect they deserve. (Also someone needs to punch Iverson.)
13. Overall: The gorgeous backdrops, the pacing of the plot, the presentation of the scenes, the action sequences, the sound effects and acting—they were faultless. The soundtrack was great. There were countless moments of pure badassery: Krolia's fight, Keith vs. Clone Shiro, that Pidge-and-Lance tag-teaming action, Hunk's powerup, Voltron tearing a rift into the fabric of reality, etc. I loved it, I loved every precious second of this season, and I am blessed to be able to witness this masterpiece unfold before my eyes.
#voltron#my thoughts#my reviews#voltron spoilers#voltron season 6#keith kogane#lance mcclain#pidge gunderson#katie holt#hunk garrett#takashi shirogane#vld allura#vld shiro#acxa#ezor#zethrid#haggar#honerva#vld coran#krolia#character analysis#voltron season 6 review
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The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 54 - 57
I’m going on vacation for a couple of days so we’ll cover some extra chapters to make up for it.
The last leg of the trek the next morning was the longest yet, Manon thought.
At least we’re in Manon’s POV for now. They’re all still traveling through the marshes.
Dorian Havilliard’s tense tan face
Since when the hell was Dorito tan??
The others were swiftly pulling ahead, but Dorian remained still. Even had the audacity to grip [Manon’s] wrist—hard.
^ me when Dorito lays one slimy finger on my baby Manon
Dorito tells Manon he killed his father and Manon isn’t bothered by it, because y’know, she’s a witch and all. They finally stumble upon the temple that holds the Lock.
When Lysandra’s solitary, swift roar cleaved the air, Aelin murmured to Rowan, “What’s the catch? Where is the catch? It’s too easy.” Indeed, there was nothing and no one here.
Oh, there will be a catch or trap waiting, y’all are just fucking stupid and wouldn’t spot a trap if it punched you in the face.
“I keep a tally, you know, Princess. To remind myself to repay you the next time we’re alone for all the truly wonderful things you say.” [Aelin’s] toes curled in her soggy boots. But she patted [Rowan] on the shoulder, looking him over with absolute irreverence, saying as she walked ahead, “I certainly hope you make me beg for it.”
You two are goddamn disgusting and I hate you. Also, why does Rowboat call her princess when he’s constantly referred to her as his queen before? Consistency who?
Alien asks Manon what the name of her sword is.
“Wind-Cleaver.” Aelin clicked her tongue. “Good name.” “Yours?” “Goldryn.” A slash of iron teeth as they were bared in a half smile. “Not as good a name.”
lmfao roast her
Alien is about to tell Rowboat something, presumably important, but chickens out and says she’ll tell him later. That’s pretty much a guarantee that it’ll bite them in the ass. Anyways, they find a chest on the altar that presumably contains the Lock.
Manon leaned over the chest to study the lid but did not open it. Studying, Aelin realized, the countless Wyrdmarks carved into the stone. Nehemia had known how to use the marks. Had been taught them and was fluent enough in them to have wielded their power. Aelin had never asked how or why or when.
*sobs* these books were so much better when Nehemia was around......
Before they can do anything, Lorass sends them a warning signal that the Ilken are approaching.
Rowan’s throat bobbed, and [Aelin] knew he’d been taking in the horizon and surrounding lands not for any chance of winning the battle that was sure to come, but for any shot at getting her out. Even if the rest of them had to buy her time with their own lives.
I know it’s only logical to try and get the royalty out safely but I’m goddamn sick of everyone being so ready to lay down their lives for Alien, when she wouldn’t lift a single finger to help anyone who doesn’t kiss her ass. Alien is such a goddamn Mary Sue please free me from this hell.
Next chapter starts with Lorass and Elide making a run for it.
Lorcan sent out another flickering blast of his power. Not toward the winged army that raced not too far ahead, but farther—toward wherever Whitethorn and his bitch-queen might be in this festering place. If those ilken reached them long before Lorcan could arrive, that Wyrdkey the bitch carried would be as good as lost.
Oh my goddd, thank you for having someone’s motivation be anything besides hailing Alien as the best queen ever. Lorass, you’re at least interesting and you’re actually improving enough that I can stomach your POVs, plus you might kill Alien off and that’s a major bonus. You are hereby promoted back to Lorcan.
We immediately shift back to Alien and her group of jackasses making a run for it.
And Lorcan … somewhere out there. [Aelin]’d think on that later. At least Fenrys and Gavriel had remained, rather than charging off to fulfill Maeve’s kill order.
Of course they stayed to save your dumb ass rather than fulfill their orders. Of fucking course. Alien suggests she uses the Wyrdkey again and Rowboat gets all pissy, which I kinda understand because the last time Alien used the Wyrdkey she killed a bunch of innocent people, destroyed part of an island, and was possessed by a goddess. She really is fucking stupid.
Aedion let out a low, bitter laugh. “You wanted to send a message to our enemies about your power, Aelin.” (...) Aedion jerked his chin toward the army approaching. “It seems Erawan sent his answer.”
IMPOSSIBLE, ALIEN MAKES A BAD DECISION AND ASSDION IS CALLING HER OUT ON IT??? I know Rowboat is gonna shoot him down but holy shit, Assdion is thinking independently for once in his life! Maybe he’ll be promoted back to Aedion.
Aelin hissed, “You blame me for this?” Aedion’s eyes darkened. “We should have stayed in the North.” “I had no choice, I’ll have you remember.” “You did,” Aedion breathed, none of the others, not even Rowan, stepping in. “You’ve had a choice all along, and you opted to flash your magic around.”
FINISH HER
I am fucking living for this Alien roast tbh, I’d read a whole book of the characters taking shots at her dumb vain ass. That's right Alien, you thought you could kill innocent people for no reason other than to show off and get away with it but you were WRONG BITCH!!! WRONG!!!!!!!
Aedion’s lip curled off his teeth. “This isn’t a game. This is war, and you pushed and pushed Erawan to show his hand. You refused to run your schemes by us first, to let us weigh in, when we have fought wars—”
I LOVE THIS SONG!! I know Assdion has done shit in the past but oh my god, I am living for this redemption!!! Has SJM become self aware and is redeeming her characters last minute??? Even Rowboat thinks her plan is fucking stupid!
Only [Rowan’s] anger was directed at [Aelin]—perhaps more livid than she’d seen him since Mistward.
This is the best chapter no competition, I am loving this Alien roast. I know it probably won’t last but I am crying, finally we’re acknowledging that Alien’s plans are selfish and stupid.
But [Rowan’s] pine-green eyes were bright—almost soft—as he said, “Remember who you are. Every step of the way down, and every step of the way back. Remember who you are. And that you’re mine.”
Now we’re ripping off the Lion King? I mean, I know it’s a semi generic quote but given SJM’s past of ripping off other novels, I wouldn’t be surprised.
The Queen of Flame and Shadow, the Heir of Fire, Aelin of the Wildfire, Fireheart …
I feel like at this point, SJM, you should’ve realized you’ve given Alien waaaaay too many titles, none of which she’s done anything to deserve or earn. Can you say, Mary Sue?
Chapter ends with Alien firing out a huge fire tornado out of her ass that is most certainly going to drain up all of her magic. Gg dumbass, you’re gonna be useless for a few days after this. Fingers crossed that this bites her in the ass afterwards.
Lorcan knew they were still too slow, warning signal or not.
Next chapter opens with Elide and Lorcan again. Lorcan has given her Maeve’s ring to protect her, which is honestly really sweet. Maybe I’ll ship them. Maybe.
Elide staggered one step—one step toward Aelin, a small noise coming out of her.
No please SJM I’m begging you, don’t make Elide into a mindless Alien worshiper like Assdion... please SJM I’m begging.......
“What is … ,” Elide breathed, but Lorcan lunged for her, hurling them to the ground, covering her body with his. He threw a shield over them, plummeting hard and fast into his magic, the drop nearly uncontrolled.
Lorcan puts the safety of Elide over his own need for revenge against Alien. I’ve gripped about his character development before, but it’s probably the only real character arc in this entire novel, so I’ll take it.
There’s a switch to Assdion’s POV, but it lasts for like half a page before it returns to Lorcan. SJM really just wants to splooge over how uhmazing Alien is through Assdion. Gag.
Lorcan watched in silence as Rowan slid a hand over her waist, the other cupping the side of her face, and kissed his queen. Embers stirred her unbound hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed close. A golden crown of flame flickered to life atop Rowan’s head—the twin to the one Lorcan had seen burning that day at Mistward.
Ewwww at least Lorcan is only saying what he’s seeing and not splooging over the shitty Ratlin ship.
Ash continued to fall, clumping on Elide’s silky night-dark hair. [Lorcan] gently picked out a bit, then put a shield over her to keep it from landing on her again.
P-pure...
Anyways Lorcan and Elide decide to stroll on over to say hello to the group of jackasses. Weird, since Elide just pointed Lorcan isn’t on friendly terms with Alien, but eh, maybe he knows they won’t prioritize attacking him due to the circumstances-
Slowly, Lorcan closed in on his prey, too focused on the fire-breathing bitch to notice that Fenrys and Gavriel had vanished from their positions in the reeds.
Oh my god, I...I actually feel... panic! Like, I actually do care about Elide and Lorcan a little bit now? I don’t want them to be hurt? What the fuck, how did you manage this, SJM?
Well, Chapter 57 picks right back up with Elide’s POV.
Elide had never been more aware of her limp. Of her dirty clothes; of her long, unshaped hair; of her small body and lack of any discernible gifts.
Christ I get it SJM, no one is even worthy of getting to lick Alien’s boots, I get it, stop rubbing it in my face.
[Lorcan] said coolly, “It would seem our bargain with each other is about to end anyway. I’ll be sure to explain the terms, don’t worry. I’d hate for them to think you were slumming it with me.”
Aww, Lorcan is putting her needs above his own......
Gav and Fenrys, understandably, attack Lorcan in furry wolf/lion form. Elide pushes him out of the way and one of them bites her arm.
[Lorcan] growled to the lion and the wolf, his shield a swirling, obsidian wind around them, “You’re dead. You’re both dead—”
I’m a sucker for that “Character A doesn’t know how much Character B cares about them until they’re injured and B loses their mind” trope, so I admit I’m warming up to them a tiny bit more.
Lorcan’s onyx eyes were unreadable as he scanned [Elide’s] face. And then he said quietly, “I wanted to go to Perranth with you.” Lorcan dropped the shield.
Damn.. can’t believe SJM’s writing is improving a tiny bit towards the end... it’s rather late, but not completely unwelcomed.
Gav offers to heal Elide while Fenrys and Lorcan wave their dicks around some more at each other. Can’t believe I’m grateful for Rowboat’s presence for once, but he comes to put a stop to the Alpha Male competition. Alien also shows up so SJM can splooge about her via Elide’s POV.
Aelin strode closer, eyes never leaving Elide’s face. Young—she felt so young compared to the woman who approached.
Ain’t they like, the same age, though?
And Elide sobbed as Manon Blackbeak emerged, smiling faintly.
PURE AND WHOLESOME................I hope we get more Elide/Manon interactions.
Fenrys feels legitimately sorry for injuring Elide, and I’m inclined to believe him. She did push Lorcan out of the way of a bite that was intended for him.
“I’m here,” Elide said as Aelin fixed those unnervingly vivid eyes on her, “because of Kaltain Rompier.”
So apparently Kaltain gave Elide the stone because she owed Alien for... giving her a warm cloak. What the fuck? Alien slutshamed Kaltain, insulted her, didn’t bother to free her from prison, did I mentioned she slutshamed her? And Kaltain wants to repay a debt for Alien doing the bare minimum? Fuck outta here with that nonsense.
“M-majesty,” [Elide] stammered, inclining her head. She should really get up. Really stop lying on the ground like a worm. But the cloth and stone still lay in her hand.
Elide, baby, it’s okay. None of these people are worth the dirt on the bottom of your shoe.
[Lorcan] didn’t let go of Elide’s arm, and she tried not to lean into his warmth. Tried not to make it seem like she hadn’t just met her queen, her friend, her court, and … somehow now found Lorcan to be the safest of them all.
Honestly fam, don’t blame you. These people are batshit insane.
“We like to call it ‘territorial male nonsense,’” Aelin confided. “Or ‘territorial Fae bastard’ works just as nicely.” The Fae Prince coughed pointedly behind her.
Unghhh this shit again. We’re almost done, my dudes, we’re almost done....
Lorcan had been willing to die for Elide. Had been willing to put aside his quest for Maeve in order for Elide to live. And had then acted territorial enough to make Rowan wonder if he seemed so ridiculous around Aelin all the time.
How can I hold all this self awareness??? Like what the fuck was SJM high writing this book but sobered up for these final few chapters???
“Aelin can decide what to tell you.” “Such a good dog.” Rowan gave him a lazy smile but refrained from commenting on the delicate, dark-haired young woman who now held Lorcan’s own leash.
Holy fucking shit, SJM really did want these guys to be werewolves.
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gurguliare replied to your post: gurguliare: garden-ghoul replied to your post …
but yes no one’s pov on grand in this is meant to be uh. completely representative. also i want to see the inverse of this it sounds much better
currently quite badly written bc I wrote this at like 11:30 last night. LET’S SEE WHAT I CAN DO.
“Can you chill out?” mumbles Grand from the corner where he’s slumped under his jacket in an uncomfortable plastic chair. “You’re making it hard to sleep.”
“Grand, I love you, but shut up. My brother is dying.”
“He’ll be fine. He walked in here.”
Yeah, okay, but counterpoint: ever since they left the Tides of Harmony one thing or another is constantly getting in between Echo and their brother. Independence, Volition, his own stupidity, fucking Advent! And now the door to the medical office.
A hand lands on their elbow and they throw their weight into an attack that kind of blurs and then ends with them blinking dazedly at the floor. Grand is holding them up around their middle. His hands are sweaty, or possibly tar-y. “Okay, I kind of walked into that one. But seriously, I’ve never met anyone who can have this little chill on the kind of painkillers you’re on.”
“Why am I looking at the floor?”
Grand sighs. “I was going to make you sit down and you tried to break my nose. You’re frighteningly good at that even when you’re high on codeine.” He sets them upright again (augh it is tar) and steers them over to the row of chairs, which Echo briefly thinks are people. The transition from sitting on top of a plasticky white person to sitting in a chair is awkward, but after that it’s not too hard to pick insistently at the cuff of their jacket while staring intently at the door.
Grand nudges them in the arm and the cuff of the jacket falls out of their mouth. “What?”
“Look, something incredibly distracting.”
It is. It’s Overture, sketched in light and in miniature on the floor in front of them. It dances in a way that’s half-familiar, like one of them isn’t remembering correctly how the Reverie forms are supposed to go--and right now it’s not necessarily Grand. Then it pulls out three swords, one from its back and one from each hip. It’s not very good with them. If Echo had three arms they would own at sword dancing, but Grand doesn’t know shit about it. “You don’t know shit about sword dancing. If I had three arms...”
Overture fades away as Grand constructs a light-Echo and kind of... explodes them. In the sense of an exploded model. Human bodies aren’t supposed to do that? Grand seems to be trying to design an anchor platform for an extra arm. How does he know what shape all of Echo’s bones are? What the fuck?
Grand is talking but Echo doesn’t care even more than usual because there’s a noise behind the door. Echo sits up way too fast and then jumps to their feet. Then they double over, and then they regret doubling over because that actually makes it hurt worse. When the door opens they’re kind of slumped back against the wall above the chair trying to clutch their side without touching it.
“Echo,” says Ballad. “Did you do something stupid in the twenty minutes I wasn’t watching you?”
“G-d! You’re one to talk. Get over here. How are you feeling?”
“Hhhhehhh,” says Ballad, a kind of noncommittal sigh. He unsteadily offers his own shoulder for Echo to lean on so they can stand up again. “You didn’t do that much damage.”
“Stop trying to be cool about it. You’re the worst. But you’ve still got some dirty tricks, huh?” They gesture to their injured side where they probably just popped two stitches and started bleeding into their bandages again. Bandages are supposed to go under clothes but Echo will die before they wear a full-length shirt so their jacket keeps flapping out and startling them with the white gauze creeping down their abdomen.
But Ballad just looks at them tiredly, and they think, shit I messed up. Shit, I’m such an idiot when I’m high on painkillers, almost as much of an idiot as when I’m not high on painkillers.
“Ballad, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m sorry for but you look like I should be sorry. Wait, I’m more fucking contrary than that. I’m sorry you suck so much.”
Ballad laughs and tips his head back and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, me too, kind of. Don’t be sorry. Just be here.” He holds out his arm and after a minute Echo gets that they’re supposed to take it and walk with him. They don’t know where he’s leading them but whatever. That’s his arm, solid and warm and kind of scratchy because of the gauze. “I wish you’d never left the Tides, Echo.”
“I didn’t exactly have a choice.”
“I know. I keep thinking about how it could have gone. If…”
“What, if you’d gotten to me first? You imagining us in matching–in fucking white coats stealing shit from the Qui Err together? I’d never have joined Advent.”
He gives them a Look. “Don’t be an idiot. You weren’t there. All of this and you still don’t understand why I did it. You think I do things for no reason? You think I do shit just to make you mad? I did that when I was twelve. I thought it was funny when you got angry and cried because I hid your practice sword or some stupid shit. I’m not twelve any more. We all just make the best decision we can see.”
“The thing about staying with Advent is that’s a decision you kept making.”
“Can we not do this, Echo?” Their mouth snaps shut on a retort, and they bite their cheek angrily. “We’re on the same side now. If you want to talk shit about Advent, let’s plan to get everyone else out, all right? But don’t kick up dust and then yell at me for making you cough.”
Echo kind of hates him in that moment for being two years older and for making that so much time. For making them feel like a dumb little kid again who has to have it explained why Dad is angry they broke the rules.
“Let’s find something to eat, okay? We’re both assholes when our blood sugar is low and the last thing I want to do right now is argue with you.”
Echo doesn’t take his peace offering, but neither do they push it away. They glare down the corridor at a couple of Qui Err who are talking a ways away.
“Do you have your own place? Maybe we can make chili.” Echo shrugs. Weirdly they’re not feeling the pretend-it-never-happened thing. He tries again. “Or we could go have lunch with Grand. Dinner. Whatever time of day it is. It’d be a nice way to thank him.”
“For what, exactly?” Someone behind them starts talking so they raise their voice. “Pulling a dumb stunt that coincidentally resulted in us duelling almost to the death? I mean,” they add when he starts giving him The Look again, “I’m fine having lunch with him. I don’t care. But he didn’t really do anything.”
“Echo…”
“I know I’m pissy right now, okay? I’m just having kind of a hard time figuring everything out. G-d, five hours ago I thought I was gonna have to kill you. And now you’re trying to set up a lunch date with Grand Magnificent. I have no fucking clue what’s going on.”
“No, I mean Grand has been walking with us this whole time. Sorry, Grand, I just noticed you. Hey.”
“Hey, Ballad. Lunch sounds great.”
Echo throws their hands into the air. Now Grand Magnificent can be invisible! Maybe he has that power whenever Echo’s brain is messed up. “Okay, I’m probably starving, I guess. Let’s go to fucking... what’s that place called? Applebees?”
“You’re the local,” says Grand.
It’s called The Wasp in the Fig, but whatever. There’s beer, which Grand forbids both of them from having and they get to combine their glares against him. There’s crunchy greasy food. There’s meat. Echo finally stops feeling cold, which is good because half an hour in someone recognizes Grand and Echo has to do their best to explain why this isn’t a security breach and it’s okay that he’s here and you really, really don’t need to call anyone. They leave a 100% tip and drag Grand out, and end up getting dragged out by Grand because ow.
And then they have to see like five people about finding Grand a place to sleep and then they have to show him where it is and by the time they and Ballad get back to Echo’s place Echo is really excited to crack open the bottle of painkillers Doctor Pelagic gave them.
They lie on the couch with one arm over their eyes, and Ballad sits with his back leaned against the frame, tipping his head to rest on Echo’s ribs. “You did good, tiger,” he says.
“Don’t call me that,” Echo mumbles at the ceiling.
“Big brother privilege.”
“W’ll make chili t’morrow,” Echo sighs. Their free hand falls to Ballad’s shoulder and he squeezes it, and he doesn’t let go.
#disclaimer: I have only been on nontopical painkillers like once in my life and I don't know what it's like#second disclaimer: I know they won't have codeine 100 000 years in the future but having grand say 'space codeine' would sound really stupid#bros before art hoes#mirage blog#fiction
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