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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years ago

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27, 7 and 8! Andriel or Kandriel my love❤️

kandreil my love because it just freaking works

7. “I’m not jealous.”

8. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

27. “What’s going on here?”

Kevin wasn’t stupid. He could tell when Andrew and Neil were at odds; it was clear when put in contrast to how in-sync they usually were. They made it obvious, with Andrew going on his drives alone and Neil not following him up to the roof, neither of them wriggling their way into the other’s bed the instant they thought Kevin was asleep. It was clear in the way Neil latched onto Kevin instead. He threw himself into their night practices while Andrew sat silently in the stands, but he also tailed Kevin throughout the day, seeking him out instead of Andrew in any pockets of free time.

He wasn’t stupid, so he could also tell that Andrew was ignoring him, and he knew this must have been why.

But he also wasn’t very brave when it came to them. Which meant he took longer than he should have to do anything about it.

Cornering Andrew wasn’t a smart move—anyone who knew him knew this. Kevin might have been upset with him, and a little bit pissed off, but he didn’t have a death wish. No, he knew Andrew was avoiding Neil more than Kevin. So he’d wait until Neil went off somewhere and simply left him and Andrew in the dorm alone.

It came about much quicker than expected, but that was fine. It was manageable. Kevin was still prepared. He would approach this calmly. He’d be straightforward, and fairly blunt, as was his usual, but he wouldn’t let Andrew rile him, wouldn’t let anything under his skin, as was his usual. He’d be perfectly calm, and perfectly civil.

He sat himself down on the couch, looked at where Andrew was smoking on the desk by the window, and blurted, “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” in a manner too harsh to be civil and too nervous to be demanding.

Andrew looked over at him slowly, brow already arched. “What?”

Kevin took a deep breath. He’d have to run with it now. “You’re jealous, and that’s why you’re mad at me as well.”

“Who’s mad?” Andrew retorted.

“No, you’re not getting away with that. I know when you’re ignoring me, and I know the difference in you having a bad week and you being an ass.”

He clamped his mouth shut as it grew too snappy, but Andrew simply stared at him. It could have passed as bored, if that eyebrow wasn’t arched even higher than before. Kevin swallowed and tried to get onto the track he’d set before his mouth ran away from him. He’d get this out, and he wouldn’t let Andrew ignore him or bully him into thinking he was overreacting. They might have got off on telling him he was a drama queen even more now that he had the tattoo to match, but he was one of few who knew Andrew was worse, and that was enough to remind him he was just in calling the blond out.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting with Neil, but you don’t get to take it out on me,” he said firmly. “Neil’s im—my friend. I won’t apologise for spending time with him because you’re having some sort of hissy fit.”

Andrew’s mouth twitched, but he swiped a hand over it and his expression was blank once more. “You think I’m jealous—” he said slowly, “—because Neil is spending time with you?”

“Yes,” Kevin insisted.

Andrew flicked ash of the side of his cigarette and cocked his head, sweeping his eyes over Kevin in a way that suggested he was amused. “Why?”

Kevin opened his mouth, closed it again. Why what? “Huh?”

“Why would I be jealous—“ oh yes, definitely amused now, “—of your lovely friendship?”

“Because…” Kevin blew out a breath. “I don’t know, Andrew. You’re dramatic. Stop trying to brush me off when I know you’re ignoring me, and it must be because Neil’s coming to me while you two are fighting.”

Andrew considered him. He stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill and tossed it carelessly over the edge, then pulled the window closed and twisted to face Kevin. His examination made Kevin feel twitchy, but he valiantly kept himself still, and eventually Andrew hummed.

“Not because of your ridiculous crush on him, then?” Andrew said flatly.

Kevin blanched. “My—what?”

Andrew tsked, rolling himself off the desk and strolling over. He planted himself in front of Kevin with an unimpressed look. “You didn’t want me to treat you like an idiot. Return the favour.”

“Andrew, I—“ Kevin trailed off. What could he say? I don’t know what you’re talking about? Andrew would probably pull a knife on him.

Because of course he wasn’t an idiot. Of course he knew. He’d probably known all along.

Kevin was blushing, for heaven’s sake. There was no point in even attempting to lie. The last time he’d lied by omission to Andrew, he was rewarded with hands around his throat.

The reminder made him flinch, and Andrew caught it. He took a step back, eyes flashing as he noticed Kevin’s trembling. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kevin,” he said, a little too sharp for a comment Kevin thought was meant to be comforting.

“I wouldn’t,” Kevin stammered. “I mean, I know that it’s not—I’d never—“

“Christ, stop,” Andrew sighed, flicking a hand in the air as if he could bat Kevin’s nonsense away. “You’re hopeless.”

Kevin, indeed, continued to be hopeless. He was gaping like a fish, nothing but air going in or out. “Andrew,” he simply managed. It sounded pleading.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “I’m not jealous.” Before Kevin could fumble for something to respond with, he added, “And I’m not mad, you imbecile. Clearly I knew. I would have already disposed of you in your sleep if I was going to.”

Kevin made a strangled noise, and Andrew added, “But I’m not,” so Kevin nodded.

“And you won’t…” Kevin’s eyes widened. “Does Neil already—?”

“Neil is less than hopeless,” Andrew said. “If you don’t tell him he’ll never get it. You really should help him along.”

This was too much. Maybe it wasn’t anything at all. Maybe Kevin was dreaming, and this wasn’t happening, and Andrew was plotting his sleepy death right now in the real world. That seemed more likely. There was no way it was possible for Andrew to not only be accepting of Kevin’s affection for his boyfriend, but encouraging.

Then again, Andrew was nothing if not a contrary, defiant little creature.

He seemed amused again in the face of Kevin’s disbelief. “Maybe you are just as bad. If you want me to treat you like you’re smart, you’re going to have to do better than that. Tell me, why do you think Neil and I are ‘fighting’?” he air-quoted.

That made Kevin frown. “He stormed off a moment ago. He has been all week. And you’ve been grumpier than usual, and you aren’t doing any of the usual things together.”

“Pay a lot of attention to that, do you?” Andrew mused, still absolutely toneless. Before Kevin had a chance to defend himself, he continued. “You think it’s my fault.”

This was not a question, which was good, because Kevin would rather not answer. Which, of course, was answer enough.

“You don’t think,” Andrew prodded, “that Josten is having his own little crisis and blaming me, and clinging to you for any specific reason?”

Kevin was gaping again.

Andrew wouldn’t let him have a break. He tacked on, “You haven’t considered that I am not jealous because I also know your pathetic crush extends?” Kevin choked again; Andrew rolled his eyes again. “I am not blind, Kevin.”

“But you don’t…” Kevin couldn’t get the words out. It was ridiculous, because all he had to do was stand up, and he would tower over the other man. But for once, he didn’t feel small and meek because he felt he was in danger. After the work the Baltimore incident had made them put in, Kevin almost felt safer around Andrew than he had before. It very well might have been his affection tainting his opinion, but he didn’t much care. He knew what he was in for—who he was in for, and he knew that they were not safe in any conventional way, but that he was best off with them.

He’d given them his back all over again, and he hadn’t worried about it. His heart was an altogether different matter.

Andrew stepped closer to him again, gazing down at him with the same look he often gave Neil, when he thought the redhead was being particularly dense. “Oh, but I do.”

No. It didn’t count. Kevin hadn’t even finished the thought, so Andrew wasn’t confirming anything. He couldn’t even know what he meant. They were likely on completely different wavelengths.

But Andrew was leaning over Kevin now, bracing a hand on the back of the couch, and all of Kevin’s rational arguments fled as he short-circuited.

“Andrew,” he breathed, going for warning and ending up wavering.

Andrew, predictably, ignored him and leaned closer, his breath brushing Kevin’s face, until the door burst open.

The clatter of Neil’s shoes, and then his keys, was unmistakable, and Kevin felt panic rise in him as the steps drew closer and Andrew still didn’t move. He simply looked over Kevin’s head as the footsteps stopped abruptly.

Kevin squeezed his eyes shut.

“What’s going on here?” Neil asked. Then, harder, “Leave him alone, Drew.”

It was utterly backwards. Kevin was at fault here, even if Andrew was the one still leaning in. Neil should have been throttling him, like Andrew should have done already. Instead he was defending Kevin against Andrew, but still using the man’s shortened name as an endearment, measuring the middle ground effortlessly. Even if he was incredibly off target.

Andrew simply rolled his eyes at him. “I’m not threatening him, idiot.”

A beat of silence. “Then what are you doing?”

“Not sure yet.” Andrew’s gaze flickered down to Kevin again, and he seemed much closer than before. Kevin swallowed; Andrew smirked. “Kevin seems to like it, though.”

“Andrew,” Neil bit, a warning and a question.

Andrew gripped Kevin’s chin between thumb and finger, and dragged his head around to face Neil. “Look.” Andrew’s thumb tapped his bottom lip, and his breath hitched. Andrew raised a brow. “What does it look like to you?”

Kevin looked at Neil for the first time in this dream (nightmare? Who knew where it was leading) and found himself breathless for another reason.

It was a recent development, and it wasn’t. Kevin had always known Andrew was attractive, had always appreciated Andrew’s talent, had always confusingly, blindly desired Andrew’s presence. He had always admired Neil’s fire, had always known he was capable of great things, had always held him in a place in his heart he hadn’t realised had been occupied since they were children. He hadn’t thought about kissing them until recently. Or at least, he hadn’t realised he wanted to.

Now, seeing that exact fire in Neil’s eyes at Kevin’s defense, as well as his horrendously worn t-shirt and disgustingly bright shorts crinkled and sweaty from his run, Kevin knew he wanted to kiss him, and he knew it wasn’t a surface thing.

And Andrew knew it just as well, smug bastard that he was.

Neil only needed a moment of looking at him to say, very eloquently, “Oh.”

Andrew snorted. “Finally come to terms with it, have you?”

Neil glared at him, but Kevin couldn’t have been mistaking the blush creeping into his cheeks. Neil’s smile was slow as he looked back at him, and somewhat shy, and Andrew heaved another sigh and moved away to plop himself down on a beanbag. It meant Neil was watching him instead, and the odd, crazy crevice of hope that had been opening in Kevin started to cave, and then Andrew was waving Neil at him impatiently.

“Well?” he prompted.

Looking between them, Neil hesitated. He settled on Andrew long enough to ask, “Did you…?”

Andrew wordlessly shook his head.

“But, I can?”

Andrew raised a brow. “Ask him.”

Kevin was lost. But Neil was turning to him, and Kevin would always pay attention to Neil, no matter how begrudgingly. So he was listening very intently when Neil simply asked, “Kev, do you want me to kiss you?”

This elicited a noise that may have seemed tortured, and Neil took a step back, eyes widening. He shot Andrew a betrayed look, and the silent communication that passed between them was lost on Kevin, who was sure this had gone beyond a dream into a blackout-induced fantasy. He must have fallen dramatically off the wagon, and now he was completely out of it and his brain was running away on its own as a misplaced attempt at comfort.

Then Neil corrected himself. “Wait. Can I kiss you? Because—I think I’d like to.”

Andrew was right. Kevin was blind, and an imbecile, and worse than hopeless, and he could do nothing but give a jerky nod.

Neil’s face lit up, and then determination was mingling with his apprehension and his face was an inch away from Kevin’s and Kevin was demanding, “You think you’d like to?”

Neil jerked back.

“Fucking idiots,” Andrew grumbled. “Yes or no, Kevin.”

“Well, yes—“

Neil kissed him, and Kevin could not have dreamt this. No matter how much alcohol-aided imagination he had, the soft touch of Neil’s lips compared to the rough texture of his hand against Kevin’s cheek was too heavenly to be magicked-up. It was heart-wrenchingly real. Andrew’s eyes on them was just as heavy of a weight.

Kevin was only beginning to get the hang of himself and reciprocate whole-heartedly when Neil pulled back. His blue eyes were dark as he roamed them appreciatively over Kevin’s stricken face, and then he glanced at Andrew.

Looking for approval, Kevin realised, and followed suit.

All amusement was wiped from Andrew’s face. His eyes were just as dark as Neil’s and even more intense as he watched them, and in combination with Neil’s touch it stirred something low in Kevin’s gut. He pinched his own thigh discreetly and his blood thrummed at the nip of pain.

“I might,” Andrew said, dragging his gaze slowly to Kevin’s face, “be a bit jealous.” He used a foot to nudge Neil, who simply huffed, out of the way, and then he hooked that same foot around Kevin’s ankle and gave a deliberate tug.

Kevin descended into gleeful laughter, and felt only more elated when it meant Andrew was forced to come to him for his kiss.

Prompt List

#kandreil #aftg #tfc #this specific beginning for them is probably overdone as it is but i still love it so here we go #prompts

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caesthetix · 4 years ago

Text

SAY A LITTLE PRAYER — Pt. 3 No God Made A Sin

↪Eren Yeager mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, heavy angst, homicide, description of violence, established relationship, spoiler for season 4

A small, bitter chuckle slipped from his lips.

He was relieved. Eren Yeager had never felt this relief over nineteen years of his life.

A few minutes had passed since the time you were supposed to be here. He won, he could alter the future by changing some of his actions. Yes, it made you get shot before as you left since he gave you a cold shoulder in the airship, but at least that means you were not going to be here.

He was certain your friends would be extra protective over you with the wound you had right now. A little more to the right and you would end up like Sasha. The reminder alone was enough to make him shudder. Yes, he could keep you from death as long as you were not here, and he cursed himself for not trying to do the same with Sasha.

But there was only so much that a man could change.

He didn't know what would happen if he altered the event too much. Right now, he was aiming for something bigger, a future where he did not have to do evil things such as crashing the whole world to the ground.

And if this worked, if you were really not going to be here, maybe he would be given a chance for redemption after all.

Maybe from this — by being blessed with seeing how the world would unfurl — he could change the future that was supposed to be so doomed.

Now, an hour has passed. He was sure you were not going to meet him tonight, hopefully never again if that was even possible. If that means his attitude would make you afraid of him from now on, that was the price he was willing to pay.

At least you survived, at least you were going to be alive somewhere up there with the rest of his comrades.

Soon, everything would be over. And you were going to be happy living with someone else. He could see how a certain ash-brown haired scout always gave you a gaze full of affection, and he wished, in a future that was stretched out of reach for him and far from his vision, you would live a happy life.

He wouldn't have to see you cry if somehow he was the one who would say the first goodbye. He wouldn't have to endure the pain of leaving someone behind, he knew how it felt when someone you loved was taken away from you, and he didn't want you to endure such pain.

Yet at the same time, he didn't know if he could bear the fact to be left behind by you.

Ever since he saw the emptiness inside your eyes when he kissed Historia's hand, he could never erase that particular memory out of his mind. You still talked to him, resting your head on his shoulder, running your fingers on his brown hair, planting small kisses on his forehead — oh how he wondered what would you do if only you knew.

There were times when he wanted to give in, to confess his sin every time you asked him to share his burden with you. Maybe you would leave, if you knew what would happen in the future, you were going to scramble away from him, look at him as if he were a monster, just like how a lot of people saw him.

But he was so fucking selfish.

Even if he knew what would happen if you stayed with him, he still longed for you. To see you pinching Mikasa's cheek affectionately, one that made the ravenette drilling hole in your head despite how she never refused the gesture anyway.

To hear you encouraging Sasha and Connie as they tried to pull a prank on the headquarters, that mostly resulted in the three of you getting scolded by Captain Levi. There were lots of memories that perhaps wouldn't happen if only he confessed his sin to you.

And up until now, he still asked himself if there was another way to get through this hell called earth.

Without some sacrifices, without losing you and his friends.

"I hate the fact you always end up in a prison somehow."

His emerald pupils widened for a second when he heard the familiar voice. Even his reflection looked at him with horror. No, no. You were not supposed to be here, he was not supposed to hear your voice that he craved so much.

"Love, are you running out of clean shirts? Should I fetch one for you?"

The sentences, he had heard it all before. Haunting him for so many years even when he laid next to you every night. Maybe he just needed to keep his mouth shut. If he didn't say anything, you would get bored and leave. "Goodness Eren, you could at least make your bed!"

"Shut up."

He couldn't, he couldn't hear it anymore. It was too much.

"Huh? What do you mean shut up?"

Why, why was there no fear in your intonation?

"I knew you were stupid, but not this stupid."

His gaze never left the mirror in front of him. He didn't dare to turn his head and find you there at the other side of the bars, he could not let the future he saw become a reality. "Leave. I don't want to see you right now."

"Hm, don't want to."

He was flabbergasted at your answer. You were supposed to be understanding, agree with whatever he said without questioning him even further. He expected you to turn around and never come back. But rather than hearing your footsteps echo through the wall, he heard the jangling of the key instead.

You were here. Not just standing outside like a dumb visitor, you were here inside the cell with him as if the man in this same room as you right now was not someone who just literally committed genocide to a whole town.

He heard a small hum coming from your lips and some rustles of sheets being made. You really made his bed — the cold, hard, uncomfortable mattress for a criminal, treating him like he was a kind man, maybe even a God with how much you had done in your life while singing his hymn.

For you to fight, you fight for Eren.

For you to kill, you kill for Eren.

For you to live, you live for Eren.

His breath was laboured right now, every step that you took felt like a reminder that at the end, he was the one who would be responsible for whatever was going to happen next. But then again, he couldn't find it, the reason. You have been here for a while and yet he could not find the reason why he did that in his vision.

Maybe he could change the future, after all, he could only count on high hopes at this moment, deciding to stay put in his place as he stared back to his own reflection. Then he felt warm, engulfing him completely as you stood right beside him. He could see you peering at his face from the corner of his eyes, beady orbs looked at him with the same kind of love.

"You still looked as handsome as ever, Eren. You don't need to look at the mirror with that flame in your eyes!" You joked, who in the right mind would tease a man who had thousands of blood on his hand? The answer, you. The one and only. "You look at it as if it is so ugly you despise it." But he despised it indeed, he despised the man who he saw in the mirror.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head at your antics. It was surprising how devoted you were to him, you were no one but a stranger at first. But the way you cared for him, he craved for it too, since you didn't make him feel suffocated, didn't make him feel weak. No. Instead, he felt how it feels to be loved purely by heart.

Eren did not save you from kidnappers like how he did to Mikasa, he did not save you from bullies like how he did to Armin either. But you somehow looked at him as if he was God, a purpose to live, without him needing to do anything at first.

You were not possessive, you just — loved him. Scolding him when he was too much of an ass, helping him get through the training for three years in the cadet corps, showing the same excitement like Armin did when the talk of the outside world was brought up. Even though you loved him, you didn't make him feel like he needed to run away.

Maybe that was why he sought your company, the reason why with time, he was head over heels for you too.

"Eren?"

You called out, one hand resting on his naked back. Your fingers that were calloused going up and down to soothe him, urging him to take a deep breath. Yes, you were here for him. He wouldn't have to do such a thing as what his vision told him to.

"Hey."

There it was, a simple greeting. You looked at him with awe, your eyes gleaming with excitement as he finally turned his face to take a proper look at you. You looked so radiant, even if you were just bathed with a yellow hue from the torch on the wall.

Through his eyes, you were so adorable. Yes, you sure were beautiful before, but when he gazed at you, when he gave you the attention that you craved for — it was as if you have been blessed by God.

Your smile met your eyes, those orbs suddenly glimmering with tears. It had been so long, to find his eyes fell upon your face. And he felt so bad that you needed to wait for years, for him to be brave enough facing you without being afraid of what could happen.

"I missed you so much, Eren."

You didn't wait for him to open up his arms as you jumped into him. It was like you knew that he wouldn't push you away, as if you could predict his movement after being given such a gesture from you.

His arms engulfed you in an instant, reciprocating the way you wrapped your hands giddily around his neck. It had been so long indeed, and he just wanted to cry at this moment. He buried his face at the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent that could make him feel so much better.

In your arms, it feels like he was home. Your existence was enough to make him feel like a child whose task was just going home before night and running an errand to buy groceries. Now he knew why he felt so empty for the last few years.

It was because he always pushed you away.

Because he neglected the home that he was supposed to come back to.

"I missed you so much too."

And just tonight, even if it was just a few minutes, he wanted to cherish how it felt to have you in his arms once again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈〄┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He never felt comfort like this for a long time. Snuggling close to your body, taking a deep breath as he memorized your scent — he wished he had more time with you than half an hour.

"Hm, how many minutes have passed?"

He asked groggily, emitting a chuckle from your lips at how cute he sounded just now.

"I think twenty? Twenty-five?"

"What? No. I am sure it was just five minutes."

You laughed at how he scrunched his forehead, lips turned into a scowl as he realised that the time was almost up. He was pouting, Eren Yeager was pouting like a kid who was scolded by his parents.

Absent-mindedly, you raised one of your hands to cup his cheek, thumb grazing softly on his skin. Eren was a gift that God bestowed upon you, or maybe he was a God himself with how gorgeous he was. He and his emerald eyes, mesmerized you as his gaze flickered to your orbs.

And then down to your lips.

His fingers slipped in between the strands of your hair as his gaze flew back to your eyes, never broke the eye contact that you two shared after that. He grasped your hair softly, just enough to secure your position, but not too harsh that it could hurt.

"Eren."

You whispered his name like a prayer as he started to lean in, closer and closer, wanting to erase the gap that separated you and him. He didn't need to ask, he knew from the way you parted your lips, you wanted him to do it.

Then who was he to ignore such a request from his lover?

You closed his eyes, only for him to follow after. At this moment, it was as if the time had stopped, and the only thing that you could hear was just the beating of his heart resonating through the room.

He could feel your breath fanning his lips, reminding him that this would be the first kiss that you two shared after months without physical contact. And truthfully, he couldn't wait to taste your lips anymore.

Grasping your hair a little bit tighter, he finally captured your lips.

He saw it, all of the kisses that you two have shared. Each moment played in his mind as if to show him what was true happiness felt like. From the first accidental kiss as he slumped on your figure at hand-on-hand combat, to the first real kiss that sealed a promise at the battle of Trost.

It was so beautiful, each moment that happened. There was this one kiss after his fight with the female titan in Stohess, another after the scout took him back from Reiner and Bertolt's grasp, it was not much, but all the kisses had been planted in his mind to be remembered forever.

Everything was replaying as if he saw a record of his life. Over and over again like a broken record. Your tears stained cheek when you kissed him at Reiss Chapel, him asking for comfort through your lips after reclaiming Shiganshina, the drunk kisses in Marley, the last peck that he gave before he departed alone —

"I am sorry." The ravenette cried, her cheek was filled with bruises and tears. "I am so sorry." Her blade was buried on someone's torso, deep enough to end their life, she just needed to move the edge from the body to finish it. But she stopped, she didn't have the courage to twist the edge, not yet.

Someone's cough, a small chuckle followed after as their breath started to get heavier for every second passed.

"It's alright, Mikasa." That voice was comforting, making the woman in front of them cried harder. "This was the path that I chose."

The sky was blue that day, rough wind blew their hair mercilessly, reminding them how they were far away from the ground right now. Ah, yes, they remembered now how everything leads up to this moment. They were here for some reason; to fight, to kill, and to keep on living.

But they did it all for him.

You did it all for him.

"Why?" She choked out as her hands trembled. "Why did you stay with him? Look at what he did, look at how many lives he had taken." So, she had realised that. "How could you stay for him, (Y/n)?!"

"Hm?" You hummed softly, realising that darkness slowly replacing the light in your vision. "What else, Mikasa?" Another chuckle, though halted with how you cough blood after that. "Because I love him."

Yes, as simple as that.

Your eyes fleeting pass her, watching how your old friends were fighting for their own life in the grasp of the ninth titan ancestors. They were here to kill, to stop your lover from finishing his mission. And there was nothing else that you could do.

You were already done for at this point, with how a single move could kill you in an instant, you knew that your time was up, there was nothing that you could change. Well, maybe except one.

"Let me go, Mikasa." You whispered as you looked at her once again. "Pull the blade, let me fall." It was as if you were trying to save her from the regret and pain that would ensue knowing she was the one who took your life away. "It's okay, I promise."

She was hesitating, her head whipped to the back since she could hear some heavy footsteps closing in. A titan or two was ready to attack her, and she needed to think fast at this point.

"Mikasa, look at me." She bit her lips, yet immediately looked down at you from the command. "I am already proud of myself for staying by his side. I will be gone as a loyal partner." You pushed yourself to grab the blade, reminding her of the situation. "But you still need to live, you have to find a way to keep on fighting."

You wanted to say more, but there was not enough time and energy. The titans were close, everyone was fighting so hard to sway them away from your black-haired friend. But they couldn't hold those monsters much longer, Mikasa needed to decide now.

Sucking a deep breath and ignoring the pain that filled your lungs, you screamed at her, snapping her for one last time.

"Mikasa! Pull away the blade! Now!"

And she did.

The next second you were falling, your body hitting the head of the colossal titan, from one titan to another, slowing you down from the inevitable death that would follow after. Your eyes never left the blue sky that spread in your vision, securing it as the last thing that you saw.

You couldn't feel anything as your body landed on the ground. Too numb, too broken to feel any pain even though in reality, your body was already disorientated, gigantic feet stomping at your limbs. But you didn't cry out for help.

You just accepted it, as red replaced the blue, as flesh replaced the fresh air in the sky.

A smile never left your tear-stained cheek. You didn't even realise that you cried. Yet one thing that you knew for sure, you didn't cry because of how it all turns out, you didn't cry because of the path that you chose, you didn't cry because you ended up dead under the titans that your lover activated.

But you cried because you have been wondering, if everything that you did was enough.

For him.

"Hey, Eren, have I been good enough for you?"

"Yes, you have." He couldn't breathe. "You have— You are good enough for me. You are even more than enough." It was too much to process, even more than that time he saw this moment unfurled in his vision.

Because back then, he didn't know what actually happened. He couldn't see the reason why he cried, he couldn't understand why he had his hand wrapped around your neck with one goal that he always hated.

To kill you.

But now his question was answered, now he knew why he in his vision decided to do such a thing to you.

"Love?" How could he face you now? "Oh, Eren, why are you crying?" You were so caring, thumb grazing on his cheek to erase all tears that never seemed to stop. "I promise I will give you lots of kisses later on too, okay?"

This made him snort, snapping him back to reality as he composed himself. He pulled away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed. So sudden he could even feel the pang in his heart for leaving such warmth. If he felt like this, he couldn't imagine how your heart ached from his gesture.

He contemplated, head hanging low as he stared at his two hands that were now trembling. You were going to die, slow and painful if he decided to keep you alive. Alone, disentangled, heavily wounded, and crushed by the sixty meters titan. He let out a bitter chuckle, knowing that whatever he did, you were going to die because of him.

"What can I do to make you leave me?"

It was so quiet, he couldn't even hear your breath after he threw the question. Eren waited for an answer, he wished you to say something, anything, he wanted to make sure that you were not going to follow him. He wanted you to be saved, for you not to feel such agonizing death.

But you just cleared your throat. He could hear you kicking the blanket that covered you before, muttering under your breath in frustration before jumping down the bed. Your action made him raise his eyebrows, wondering why you looked so angry, why you seemed disturbed with his question.

"(Y/n), answer—"

"Nothing!"

He was taken aback by your outburst. Now he was the one who could not see your expression with how you gave him your back instead. "Nothing, Eren. There's nothing that you could do." You walked to where you put your jacket, snatching it from the ground. "You could try anything, but I will stay. I will stay and side with you. Always."

He closed his eyes, searching for an answer inside his mind. From anyone that he knew, it must be you who had a painful death.

No, he couldn't let you die like that. You deserved a future, in a world where peace and freedom were finally within your reach, he wanted you to see that, go live through that, even though it was not with him. That was what he promised you after all, freedom.

"You hear me, Eren?" You exclaimed, slipping your jacket before turning your body to face him, gaze locked with his. "I am not going anywhere. Not even if you ask me to." Your voice softened by now. As if you didn't care that he looked at you with his cold, murderous eyes.

There was nothing that could make him change your mind, he should have known that. The way you spoke, the tone that you used, was enough to make him understand. That he couldn't ask you to leave, he couldn't threaten you to stay with the Survey Corps.

In the end, your death was something that couldn't be altered.

It was either later, or now.

You gasped, body slammed to the brick wall behind you. Your feet flailing around, pupils widened with shock as you choked out. Huffing for air, he gripped your neck tighter, not giving you a chance to get more. Not enough, tighter! You looked so helpless for a second, panic struck your mind as you thrashed around.

But then your eyes met with his, and just like that, you stopped.

He didn't know what you were thinking. You just stared at him. Lips parted, trying to say something even though your oxygen was limited by now. He could see the colour draining from your face, little by little. And yet you kept on trying, pushing the words from your lips.

"I will—"

Your voice cracked, yet your eyes still held his gaze. With the same comfort look that he always found, with no fear in your orbs like how so many people looked at him.

"Devote my heart—"

He ignored how your right hand went up to your chest, balled into a fist as you gave him a sincere smile. A smile that was full of pride. As if living and fighting for him was something that you were proud of.

"To you."

It was a salute. That was what you gave him. You have become a good soldier, he knew that. Fighting alongside him to kill the enemies, staying by his side when everyone was afraid of him, still looking at him with the same love and kindness despite all things that he had done.

Up until now.

Up until now as the colour in your eyes was gone.

You still looked at him, as if he was God.

He choked out, now the one who gasped for air as his vision blurred with tears. The realisation hit him, gnawing his soul as slow as possible so he could taste the grief even more. He wanted to scream out when Sasha died. But now, knowing you were the one who died and because of him on top of that —

He wanted to rip his heart into pieces.

"I am sorry." He sobbed, releasing his grip on your neck before pulling you to his embrace. "I am sorry, I am such a coward. I am sorry." He couldn't, he couldn't see you die fighting for him. He couldn't see you get trampled by those titans that were supposed to give you freedom.

So this was the answer. Yes, that was it. It would be better for you to see freedom in another world. In a world without titans, without death trying to catch up with you anywhere you go, without someone that would die in a few years as your lover and comrades.

A chuckle slipped from his lips as his fingers tangled on your damp hair, smoothing it out softly as he kissed the side of your face, bidding farewell to someone who he knew would always be with him. Even if the body couldn't follow him anymore.

Closing his eyes, he smiled, remembering the day he met you. As darkness stretched through the horizon, and a full moon was the only thing that lit the world. You were flying around with your manoeuvre gear, practising even though it was late at night.

He was amazed at how you could even hear him walk towards you. The way you whipped your head to face him, a smile of relief tugged on your lips as you realised it was just another cadet, the soft look inside your eyes and how it shone brighter with the moon reflected your glossy orbs.

This was the choice that he knew he would regret less. For you to die without fear, with your typical gentle gaze that could melt everyone on sight. For you to be free, to reach whatever paradise that you would see after you took your last breath.

He could only wish that someday he would be with you again.

Letting you go, he stood up without faltering. His emerald orbs that you always adored now would be forever dull. Like a dark leaf that fell from its tree; it couldn't gleam anymore. His lips shaped into a thin line, staring at your lifeless body one last time before turning his back on you.

This moment was a turning point. Now he knew that he couldn't change anything. He was tied to his vision, all the plans must be executed. And without you in this world, perhaps it would be so much easier for him to just look forward and finish his duty.

He didn't look back, dragging his feet to the sink before filling it with water. He fetched the hairband in his pocket, eyes never leaving the reflection that looked at him with red and tired eyes. Just a little bit longer. He washed his face, not bothering to wipe it with a cloth as he let the water drip down the sink.

Just a little bit longer and you could go find her again.

Eren Yeager has given you your freedom.

Now, he just needed to grant freedom to the rest of the world.

↪Back to Wall Maria

↪Citizen; @queenofcurse

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

#eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x y/n #eren angst #eren yaegar #eren jaeger #attack on titan eren #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x y/n #aot #snk x reader #snk #eren imagines #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger imagines #eren yeager imagines

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fleet-admiral-hiba · 3 years ago

Note

can you please do a Lucian from sinnoh elite four and will from johto elite four with their 5 year old kids who’s always around them and someone takes them because they have a grudge/wants revenge on them for some reason?You can make up the reason

Of course.

DON'T TOUCH THEM

He loves you so much, your his baby after all. And what he loved more was how you always followed him around.

Most of the times, when he wasn't in the Pokemon league, he was surely reading in the Canalave library or he was out taking a walk.

One thing for sure is that ,you were always nearby. This is why he noticed immediately your disappearance.

He spent the entire evening looking for you, and he was growing worried. It wasn't like you to go somewhere without telling him.

When he returned home from the police station, he found a note attached to his door. It was a ransom for your release. It was signed by the local villain group

He didn't waste time in looking for their hideout. He knew where it was because, once, he was asked to help Ash and Dawn in retrieving some lost Pokemons.

He didn't think that they could have gone so far as in kidnapping his daughter/son. It seemed that he was mistaken. The grudge run deeper

While he was coming out your aid, you were being interrogated by said group. Mostly uninjured, you were quite shaken though. They wanted to defeat your dad, by using his weak point. You

You asked why, why would they do something like that. They were angry, and one of them punched you. They hated your father. Thanks to him their boss was in jail, and so were most of their colleagues.

They were so lost in their delusion. This didn't stop them from taking it out on you. But before something worse could happen, you heard the familiar chirp of Girafarig.

You let out a breath of relief, your father made it in time. It wasn't long before Girafarig defeated the men, and with the police taking them in custody, you could launch yourself into your father's arm

"I'm deeply sorry, little one. I will make it up to you. Shhh, let it out dear, it's okay,I'm here". You sobbed in his chest, while he held you tight against him.

You were taken home, curling up in your father's arm, not wanting to let go. You were deeply scared by what happened, and you wanted some comfort.

He was...relieved to have you back,but at the same time, ashamed of what his action led to. He knew that he couldn't have predicted it,but still. It hurt to see his baby hurting.

Will was always beyond excited to have you trail behind him. His little Natu. Oh, how he was proud of his little baby

He loved to train his pokemon when you were watching, seeing you happy was his main objective. Your smile was captivating

So, when he had a meeting with the other elite four members, he wasn't concerned with you coming along. Although he told you that you could roam the plateau, if you ever felt bored

So when a member of the staff came running telling him that you had been taken away, he wasn't happy at all. The Indigo Plateau was a safe place for you to be in.

Or so he thought. He rushed out of the room, with the other trailing behind. Your uncles and aunty were rather fond of you

He thought about who could have taken you, he didn't have that many enemies. Until a light lit up. Could it be someone who worked for the Masked Man?

Although all the members were all in jail, or went on their path, some of them still may have wanted revenge.

He,alongside Karen became members of the Elite four, and they were all ex members of some organization.

He knew where to go, and hopefully you were okay. He rushed to the place where he knew for sure the men of the masked men were

What he saw broke his heart. You were tied to a chair, gagged so you couldn't scream, and you were so pale. He noticed the men all around you, now trembling at the sight of the entire Elite of Johto.

They weren't even real members,they were just some copycats. He quickly made his way to you, while the others made quick work of the impostors.

After having freed you from you bindings, he clutched you tight to his chest. You were crying so hard, it was obvious you had been so scared.

"My dear Natu, it's all finished. Papa's here, darling, don't worry. Were going home now,okay? Shhhh,shhh, papa's here, it's alright"

He was almost crying, eyes shining with tears. He promised you that something like this wouldn't happen again.

He went home with you tightly in his arm, not letting you go once. The night was spent cuddling you. You were still shaken. So was he.

#pokémon headcanons #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon #pokemon masterlist #pokemon elite four #will pokemon #lucian pokemon

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jwxei · 4 years ago

Text

˗ˏˋ achilles' heel - chapter two ˎˊ˗

// eyes red, vast and volcanic //

You wish you could say the same thing when you struck up conversation with him. To say he was anything but a brute was naive of you, and the nagging voice in your mind was lecturing you for thinking that way. To be honest, you weren't really sure what to do when he lashed out at you so suddenly. All you were trying to do was get to your seat, nothing else. But the hot headed autocrat had other plans.

Apparently you were in his way. And after he had stated that fact he went off on a mini speech about how great he was and how everyone else wasn't.

"Out of my way extras," he would harshly declare, "If you're going to act so useless, at least be stones I can step off to reach my victory."

To you, he just sounded like an egotistical boy who takes pleasure in pushing others around. But surprisingly no one seemed to question his actions. As absurd as he was, it really seemed to affect most people. You could see the glinting fear in their eyes when he crouched to meet their gaze. When he gave that jagged smirk, satisfied with the dominance created. But what ticked you off most was the way he looked down on others. How he held his head slightly higher than everyone else's and loved to poke holes into every mistake made. There was a clear difference between confidence and arrogance, and he was an excellent example of what not to become.

The odd thing was that people still tried to befriend him, despite his threatening attitude. You could see an eccentric haired red-head approach him everyday, constantly wearing the same carefree expression. Without fail, he would flash him a welcoming smile and make his way over. It irritated you, to say the least. You couldn't see why anyone would ever want to befriend someone who was plain crude. But then again, you weren't someone who would go out of their way to desperately make friends. You enrolled to U.A for one purpose only; it wasn't going to change anytime soon.

But still, you couldn't help but observe as the energetic boy beamed at the proud dictator, polar opposites at their best. You could swear you saw rays coming from his smile. And the bright radiance he gave made you feel safe, comforted and soothed. For a while, you would find yourself to bask in his joyful tendencies, the whole atmosphere lightening up when he walked into the room. It puzzled you as to why someone so pure and great as him would want to stoop down to someone which no respect for anyone else but himself.

Bakugo didn't seem to appreciate the hospitality shown to him, though. Whenever the lively boy (who you now came to know as Eijiro Kirishima) would try to spark a conversation, all he would do is yank his head the opposite direction. The only responses given were silent glares that bore through you, or rough grunts if he was in a good mood. Another admirable trait of Kirishima was that he never faltered. Even when Bakugo gave him the harshest of glares, which would strike fear into most, the red-head did not feel threatened.

He was praiseworthy, you could give him that. Although, it didn't mean that he could escape the insults Bakugo carelessly threw around. Kirishima had coined the name 'Shitty Hair' from him because of his bright red tufts that were styled into spikes that shot above. However he didn't seem to take the nickname too heavily. And he snapped back with an offhand comment about how their hairstyles were similar. It impressed you. How he could put up with Bakugo's stand-off attitude. But then again, you lacked something Kirishima seemed to have an abundance of; patience.

You remember the first time that it happened. The ticking torment that Bakugo first released upon you. All you were trying to do was get to your seat. You didn't want any unnecessary attention, and he was more than you had bargained for at U.A. As you weaved your way through the maze of pristine desks, a rough grip caught you off balance and nearly yanked you to the ground. You whipped your head in fury to see who it was, only to meet a pair of blazing red eyes. They glowered at your form, you gladly returning the favour. A gruff voice, one that sounded like coarse asphalt, spit at you.

"The hell is a weakling like you doing here?" An athletically built boy had both his feet crossed onto his desk. His forest green pants sagged and hung loosely around his waist, revealing a peek of his-. No. You scolded yourself and tugged your mind out of the gutter. The frustration that brimmed inside you was more overpowering. How dare this obnoxious man speak to you like you were some sort of lesser specimen? A sever urge to wreck this man's ego and put him in his place highly tempted you. But unlike him, you weren't looking for a fight.

You tugged away from his grip and gave him a bitter glance. His lips curled into a cruel smirk in response before running his hands through ash blond locks. You knew you hated him the minute he flashed you that smile. Indulging in the fantasy of humbling him helped satisfy your need to square him right in his cocky, perfect face. Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself and bluffed an unbothered attitude.

"That is none of your business." You replied through gritted teeth. "Now I suggest you go bother someone else before I report you for harassment." You tilted your head innocently, and cracked a forced grin at him. Bakugo's sneer disappeared from view and he scoffed coldly. He faced away before going back to his own business. Taking it as a success, you made your way back to your desk, plopping down to take you study materials out.

A bubbly brunette to your right whispered to a frog-like classmate. Their hushed conversation consisted of panicked murmurs and what sounded to be a frog-like noise. You fiddled with the stationary placed upon your desk, twirling the mechanical pencil between your fingers seamlessly. You could pick up on their little discussion if it proved necessary, but didn't bother to. The last thing you needed was another headache. After a few more minutes, the brown-haired girl seen speaking before tapped your shoulder.

"You're L/N Y/N right?" You looked up, taken aback by the sudden interaction. She looked at you with wide eyes the shades of dark honey. She was so close to your face that you could see the black lines that traced in and out of her iris. Her frame was small, but not frail, and she had her arms crossed behind her. The frog girl had now returned to her previous business. She appeared uninterested in the topic but occasionally glanced back ever now and then. You answered the girl before you.

"Uh, yeah. That's me!" A smile shone from your features, this time it came naturally. She exhaled out a little before rubbing her hands together. The odd thing was that her fingers never touched.

"Wow! Well I gotta give it to you for holding your ground against that hot head over there!" She pointed her thumb in Bakugo's direction. You noticed how her fingertips had a slightly darker shade that appeared in a circular pattern. The boy subject to the attention caught her pointing, and gave her a teething snarl. You sheepishly laughed and thanked her. She also giggled with a playful tone before leaning in to whisper in your ear. "To be honest I thought that you were gonna get blown to pieces! We all thought a villain was in the making. Anyways, I'm Ochako Uraraka. Nice to meet you."

You laughed along with her, but this time it was more forced. It's not like she was wrong; there were aspects of Bakugo that could be seen as villainous. But something about him being a villain didn't sit right with you. It did not make sense to even yourself, as to why you would think that. Perhaps you thought he had potential to be better. Yeah, you mocked your own thought. Like that would happen anytime soon.

You only proved yourself right as the days went by. The relentless blonde showed great interest in afflicting annoyance and pain into you. For weeks on end, he would belittle you with insults and comparisons. Sometimes he would even take your things and hide them in the smallest and inconvenient places. One time, he had taken your whole backpack and swung it to the top of a tree to hang there overnight. Explaining to Aizawa Sensei why you didn't have your school supplies with you the next day was a complete nightmare, him staring you down with bloodshot eyes the whole time.

Granted, there were some days where he completely ignored you. When you would make eye contact in the hallways, he would always shove his gaze somewhere else and stuff his hands in his pockets. You were thankful for these times, if you were being honest, but they only came once in a blue moon. It was insufferable; trying to predict how he would treat you was maddening and drove you up the wall. Your patience was thinning fast, and every mishap that involved him only boiled your fiery blood even more.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

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keeroo92 · 3 years ago

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Breaking Point

My SFW contribution to @jackpot-dantezine, where Dante falls apart on the way to confront Urizen.

Word count: 1,909

-------

The air hung stagnant around him, oppressive and unnaturally warm. Shades of red and brown, grey and a sickening green encroached up the walls. When he called the smell, “hot garbage”, he’d been far too kind. Veins pulsated a stern drumbeat as Dante stepped forward after his two female companions.

“Bet you both I bag the first Queen!” Lady taunted. Trish responded with a cool smirk and a quickened pace, but Dante’s mind was elsewhere.

What if it was Vergil?

Dante had his doubts, despite what the weirdo client told him. What were the chances, right? Vergil’d been gone for years, stuck in hell after their last meeting. Getting back here, let alone in good enough shape to pull off this bullshit, was a longshot.

Still. His brother had a way of popping up and causing trouble.

The first boom of battle ricocheted off the nauseating walls, reminding him where he was and what he still needed to do. He’d better catch up. Thinking about shit wasn’t his style; killing demons was.

Time for a good ol’ fashioned beat down, that’d get him out of this funk.

Dante cracked his neck, hands twitching to grasp the twin handles of his beloved Ebony and Ivory. The staccato thud of his boots mirrored the thudding of his heart, hastening as he got closer to a fight.

He turned a bloody corner just in time to see Trish deal a death blow to a Hell Judecca, its skeletal arms dissolving into ash as she spun to find her next prey. Her signature yellow sparks glowed brightly from her hands, her body dashing across the blood-stained ground to strike a pair of Antenora. Show off.

“That puts me ahead by two, Lady! What, are you taking a nap?” the blonde called.

“Not even close!” Lady replied, firing her bazooka straight down the throat of a Caina.

Dante grinned and picked a target, spinning on his heel as a scythe hunted his flesh. Too easy. He twirled Ebony and shot the ugly bastard in the face behind his back. Why did all demons look like the ass end of a bad burrito, anyway?

Eh, who cared?

His heart lurched. Vergil would. When they were children, Dante’s brother never ran out of questions about the nature of demons. He’d asked everything imaginable, from how they fought to how they multiplied.

Dante tried not to think about that part.

And for every question Vergil asked, their dad had an answer. He’d stop whatever he was doing to explain, smiling proudly all the while. Like Dante wasn’t even there. It used to annoy him, but now the memory only brought bittersweet longing. What he wouldn’t give for them all to be together again…

“Dante, duck!”

Leather snapped as Dante instantly dropped to a crouch. A stream of fire licked his flesh, a Hell Bat above screeching its displeasure at the near miss. Annoying bastard. He never should've let it get so close.

I gotta keep it together, he thought cynically, or the girls will get on my case.

Plus, banter always helped keep his mind from visiting its darker corners.

The man in red summoned a smirk and fired a few rounds, his bullets poking holes in the bulging orange belly overhead. A sound not unlike a whoopee cushion signaled his success. Nice.

“Sayonara, sucker!” he crowed, watching as the bat’s leaking body propelled it into a wall to explode. “Let’s call that one twenty points.”

“No way, lazybones! You don’t get extra for making fart noises,” Lady called with a scowl.

Dante raised his hands in a placating gesture as soot settled to mark the deaths of their foes. He hoped Ver- Urizen sent a few more their way; he needed to warm up before kicking the king’s ass. Maybe he should stretch, just to keep his blood flowing.

Dante sighed and shook his head. He’d never hear the end of it.

It turned out he didn’t need to worry; as the trio progressed, they encountered wave after wave of demons, all vying for fresh blood. Trish and Lady didn’t falter, picking off one after another as Dante did his best to stay on task, but his mind kept drifting back to his brother.

For decades, Dante held only anger at his twin for not being there, for forcing their mother to search for him. To a child, the immature logic made sense. If Vergil hadn’t run off, things would’ve turned out differently. Simple cause and effect.

But time dulled the blade of his rage, and a broader understanding of life took hold. Any number of choices may have changed the outcome of the attack, but obsessing over it wouldn’t change what happened.

None of them had the power to predict the consequences, or to change them. All he could do was keep fighting, and hope that by doing so he spared other families from sharing the fate of his own.

If Dante was being honest, the constant battles tired him. His body didn’t move like it used to, and the first aches of middle age warned him it was time to slow down. He couldn’t chase demons forever, and part of him didn’t want to. It was a lot of work.

It might be time to leave it to someone younger.

Then again, what the fuck else was he going to do all day? The only thing worse than being tired was being bored.

And the thought of retiring while Vergil was still out there somewhere, doing who knew what… it didn’t feel right, as if the balance would shift to the demons and they’d go unchecked. As a descendant of Sparda that gave a shit about humanity, Dante felt a certain responsibility to bear the weight of defending them. It was what his dad would’ve wanted.

What his mother would’ve wanted.

Besides; if he didn’t, then who would? Nero sure as hell wasn’t ready, not yet.

But above all else, if it came to a fight to the death, his brother deserved to go at the hands of his family. Someone who understood what he’d gone through and all that he’d lost. It was Dante’s responsibility, and he damn well wasn’t hiding from it. Not this time.

The thought left a hollow ache in his chest, a bitter sorrow he desperately wished he could ignore. If there was any alternative, any chance of helping his brother instead of ending his life, Dante knew he’d take it. That he had to even consider killing Vergil showed how twisted life could be. It made him want to scream.

“Aw, shit,” Trish said, breaking his rambling thoughts. A quartet of Nobody’s waited in the next clearing, scurrying back and forth like excited cats. Perfect timing - Dante hated these guys.

And he really needed to kill something.

He flew at the demons with a cry of fury, drawing all four to him as he pulled Rebellion out. The girls followed in his wake, but he saw nothing save the nearest mask as his blade struck home. It left a deep crack in the clay, but the prick backed off before he had the time to kill it.

He really hated these guys.

“Lady, finish him!” he cried. The other three were already swarming him. Damnit.

He dodged a stray arm and slashed at another as a blast reached his ears. The grotesque floor shook from the force and Dante roared, unleashing a vicious series of slices at the stumbling Nobody closest to him. It whimpered and tried to back off, but he refused to let it go that easily. Rebellion’s heavy blade sank deep into the creature’s core, splattering hot blood on its fellows and its killer alike. Two down.

Two to go.

There were days he didn’t see the point of it anymore; no matter how many would-be demon kings he took down, there’d always be another, and the peons were even worse. Useless, feral things, their only desire to destroy and kill.

It only added fuel to the fire of his rage. He needed to get closer.

Dante sheathed Rebellion and pulled at the thread of dark energy connecting him to Balrog, summoning the metallic pseudo-armor even as he threw a powerful punch. A rapid kick followed, his feet cracking against the reddish mask of the third nobody. He’d kill it before it fought back.

But a fiery blast on his left hurled him to the side, the last demon cackling as he fell. Years of getting pummeled proved their worth as Dante rolled with the blow, using the momentum to get on his feet a beat later. He grimaced and flipped a finger at the laughing jerk.

“Is that all you got?” he shouted. Who knew if it understood.

It screeched and slammed a limb at him, slashing at his chest. He stepped aside and brought his arms together, crushing the appendage and tugging the beast closer for a solid headbutt. He punched and kicked, again and again. Demon blood splattered his face, each drop like a balm to his wrath. The chaotic battle surrounding him faded away; it was just him and the demon and the sounds of his strikes pulverizing its desecrated body.

“Dante?” Lady called, her voice barely piercing the fog of his anger. He ignored her and punched the Nobody in the face again. “Dante, it’s dead. You can stop hitting it now.”

How many people had this one killed? How many families did its hunger shatter? For all Dante knew, it might be the bastard that killed his mother. He punched it again.

“Dante, come on…” Trish said.

Maybe this was the demon that left nothing but smears of blood on the playground outside. Or the one that tore through a local grocery store, or that small house where he found those god awful husks. Another punch. He didn’t notice his female companions coming to stand beside him.

“Dante, knock it off. We need to keep moving,” Lady said, her palm coming to rest on his shoulder as he pulled back for another punch. Trish mirrored her.

The edges of the creature’s face began dissolving, a fine grey powder all that remained. Dante’s panting breath sent the dust aflutter as he slowly lowered his arm. His jaw ached; had he been gritting his teeth the whole time? Fuck.

Better crack a joke, something to keep it light.

“So, that’s what, four points to me?” Dante said. Both women shot him fierce glares.

“What the fuck, Dante?” Lady began.

He wiped away the blood still clinging to his face and sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Trish chimed in. “You good?”

The red-clad man released the tendril of energy connecting him to Balrog, the blood-stained metal vanishing a beat behind. He didn’t know what to say. His rage still flickered within him, an ever present ember waiting for the right moment to flare into an inferno. It might give him an edge; it might consume him.

Talk about a double-edged sword.

It didn’t matter what was happening in his heart or what it did to him. There was a big ass demon tree growing in his city, ugly bastards swarming the place and who knew what else. It was his job to clean up the mess, no matter who made it.

Dante snorted. He was, in essence, a janitor.

He cracked his neck. It was time to clean. “I’m good.”

#fanfic #my writing #dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante sparda #angst #one-shot

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hellishhin · 3 years ago

Text

Simply Recon

Length: ~2,300

Content warnings: Coma-like state, brief injury mention

Post themes: the plot thickens, investigation, discovery, friendship

Summary: Sadie is barely holding it together working for Taerand but she gets a reprieve when allowed to join her friends to uncover a political plot within Stawold. Taerand has suspicions about who's behind it but he needs proof before the guards will believe him. Giving the group a name and a place they are sent off to collect the appropriate evidence with little idea of what they are up against. From the beginning, nothing is what it seems and they are left wondering how deep this plot goes or if they will even make it out to report what they have found.

Intro with links to all previous posts

[next post]—-[previous post]

Nothing got better. His demeanor toward her was indifferent at best and icy cold at worst. He never yelled nor acted out and it somehow made him less predictable. Sadie was on edge around him and wasn’t hiding it well. Calling him master was starting to sound like an insult rather than an honorific and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

It was only her second day in the Calentavar household and she was ready to quit but not only was she loyal to K’lai’a’la, she couldn’t let Kireen be right so she tried to grin and bear it. The following day Kireen, K’lai’a’la, and surprisingly, Brimir were in Taerand’s study so he could finally call in his favor. Sadie made it clear that she was going to help her friends so she was given the day off. Clearly he didn’t mind having one more set of hands to do his dirty work. A servant left the four of them in the study to wait until Taerand decided to arrive.

“Well? How is it going?” Kireen asked after hugs were shared between them all.

“Just fine! The job is easy. He just has me run messages around the manor to the other servants. They are really nice. Oh and I perform for him while he has dinner sometimes. Or even while he’s doing stuff here in the study,” she manages to sound enthusiastic enough that Kireen shouldn’t catch on.

“And you enjoy performing for him?” she cocks an eyebrow.

“Of course! I love performing and he really seems to enjoy it,” in fact, Taerand never seemed to react to any of her performances to the point where she silently wondered if he could hear at all. Kireen just nodded but K’lai’a’la still looked concerned.

“There is no yelling? No hurting?”

“Of course not, he had to teach me a few things but there hasn’t been any yelling I promise,” it wasn’t a lie, Taerand didn’t yell. K’lai’a’la seemed to accept her answer.

“I’m glad everything is working out for you here, Sadie. Because I’d feel a hell of a lot worse if it wasn’t,” Brimir gave her such a genuine smile that she felt guilty for faking it. But maybe if she pretended to like it, she actually would in the end. She was pondering it and kicking her feet as they dangled off the edge of the chair when Taerand entered and took his spot behind the desk.

“I have uncovered a plot against the margrave that is being orchestrated by certain members of the elvish elite. I do not have enough proof to bring to the guards and that is where you come in. Saerophon Dahast is one of the elves involved and I see him frequenting the abandoned house on Miller Street. Find me the proof I need to take this to the guards.”

“But why can’t you just take it to the guards yourself and have them do what we are doing?” Sadie asked.

“They wouldn’t listen to him, the guards don’t dig into noble affairs without just cause. It’s a perk of being nobility,” Kireen answered with a disgusted sneer on her face but this time it was directed toward no one in particular. Sadie was surprised Kireen spoke on Taerand’s behalf. “Any other questions?”

“No,” Kireen said before the rest of them could answer. Taerand nodded once.

“Then all of you are dismissed. Sadie, you do not need to return to your duties until after the task is completed.”

***

When the four of them returned to the Stag, Dwinain was pleased to see Sadie and waved away her apologies for not explaining what happened the morning she left. Her explanation was brief as she had other business to attend to. She expected some sort of reaction from him but he just told her to be safe and that was it. Surely he was hiding his opinions but that investigation could come later because they had a more important one on their hands.

***

It wasn’t a difficult plan. When dusk fell they took a few back-alley shortcuts and found a place to wait and watch. The house was a single story, clearly unlived in for quite some time. Sadie had to admit that it didn’t seem like the place for the stirrings of a political plot but that was probably the point. They were waiting in the shadows for about ten minutes before Sadie spoke up.

“So we are really going to just sit in this one spot all night?”

“It’s been ten minutes Sadie…” Kireen said flatly.

“I know, I’m not bored now but I will be. Maybe we can move.” “Count the stones,” K’lai’a’la gestured at the ground in front of Sadie.

“What? Why?”

“It is what we tell the children to stay busy.”

Sadie wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue but was surprised when Brimir sat next to her and said “I’ll help you,” and began moving rocks around.

***

A few rounds of town guards had passed them making them move deeper into the shadows but the moon wasn’t even fully overhead when Kireen and K’lai’a’la spotted a lone figure walking down the street without anything to light their way. “There is someone coming,” K’lai’a’la breathed and Sadie straightened. Both Kireen and K’lai’a’la’s vision could penetrate the darkness but without light, Sadie could only see the outline of the nearby buildings from the light of the moon. Brimir was in the same situation so the two of them sat and listened.

The others watched as the figure, hood drawn, walked straight up the path and to the front door. The surety of their steps was proof that their eyes were adjusted to seeing in the dark as well. The door opened silently and the figure disappeared inside. They waited for several breaths but there was no other change to the building.

“What’s happening?” Sadie whispered, breaking the tense silence.

“They went into the house,” Kireen responded.

“Then let’s go so we can catch him,” Sadie stood and stared blankly into the darkness in the direction she knew the house to be.

“Not yet, if he’s not staying long he’ll walk right out into us.”

They waited for a while and nothing else happened. K’lai’a’la took Sadie’s hand and Brimir put his hand on Kireen’s shoulder rather than risk making any light. The two who couldn’t see well made more noise than they would have liked but it wasn’t much more than a few scuffs of feet on dirt.

They approached the house and crouched below one of the shuttered windows. The house was dilapidated enough that the shutters didn’t fit snug and they could tell that it was dark and silent within. Kireen was sure the figure did not exit the house at least where they could be seen but they might have left out the back.

“There’s guards coming,” Sadie could see their lantern light approaching a nearby street corner. The house was close enough to the street that when they rounded the corner they would be bathed in light and surely spotted. Four armed adventurers crouching in front of a house would get them arrested for sure.

Kireen ushered them to the back of the house, relieved to find nobody waiting back there for them. There was just a back door, an overrun garden, and a cellar door which K’lai’a’la silently pointed at. Kireen nodded, “but I want to check the house first.”

The back door was silent on its hinges and led into a bare room with a broken chair in a corner and a few cracked pieces of dishware scattered over the floor.

Sadie scooped up a pebble before stepping inside and enclosed it in her fist. She opened up her mind to the endless harmony of the weave and embraced its warm current as it flowed through her. A few plucks of her fingers and she coaxed a strand of magic to coil up within the heart of the stone. With a gentle hum of encouragement she strengthened that little coil of power until a lovely warm light shone between the cracks of her fist. She didn’t risk opening her hand any farther, but now she could at least see something with her fist held out in front of her.

There was one main room with a fireplace covered with a layer of cold ashes. Beyond a tattered hide was a single bedroom with a moldy pile of straw and evidence of rats. It wasn’t long before K’lai’a’la pointed at the floor near the wall.

“Dust. No feet,” then she pointed at the floor in a trail from the front door to the back door, “feet.”

She was right, the floor was freshly worn between the two doors and that seemed to be all that was disturbed.

Kireen nodded and approached the back door to inspect the hinges. “Freshly oiled.”

Hearing that, Sadie held her glowing fist to the front door’s hinges. “Here too. Do you think they go out to the cellar?”

“I would bet on it.”

The group exited the house once again and Sadie checked around the corner, glad to see the guards had moved on. When she came back, everyone was standing around the cellar door.

“We’re going in right?” she asked.

“Yes but we aren’t pushing it too far. If we get any sign of being caught we run. This is recon tonight,” Kireen seemed firm in her stance and the rest nodded.

“I will go first into the cellar,” Brimir said, puffing out his chest. He looked a lot more capable in his leather armor with a sword at his hip than some foppish party dress so nobody argued. He opened the cellar door and the stairs led into darkness. “I cannot see in the dark though,” he grimaced and Kireen rolled her eyes, taking the lead instead.

“Sadie if we get in trouble you can brighten that light of yours,” and she headed down into the dark. Brimir followed after with a hand on Kireen’s shoulder, Sadie was next with her dimly glowing fist lighting just enough of the stairs for her to safely get down them. K’lai’a’la took up the rear with a throwing knife in each hand.

Kireen was the first to alight upon the damp dirt floor and found herself greeted with a very mundane cellar in similar disrepair to the house above. A few rotting barrels stood in a corner, a couple moldy sacks of something stacked next to them and a broom leaning up against a bare stretch of wall. She scanned the floor in front of her and the walls for any sign of tripwires or magical glyphs. Finding none, she stepped into the middle of the cellar to allow the rest to join her.

“Where the hell did he go if this is a dead end? Did he just go out the back of the house and keep going?” Sadie frowns as she looks around the bare room.

“No tracks,” K’lai’a’la said.

“Let some light out so we can look closer,” Kireen said to Sadie who did so and the room was awash with warm glow. They spread across the room to look for any hidden signs, Sadie even looking for magic but she couldn’t find anything and she was getting frustrated. Until K’lai’a’la pointed to the broom.

“Not old.”

She was right, the broom wasn’t moldy or rotting like the rest of the things left down here. It was also propped neatly up against a random spot in the wall they only now realized was a little strange. Sadie looked at the floor and saw the pattern.

“Look, there’s brush marks from the stairs to the wall next to the broom but not anywhere else. Like they were brushing away any evidence of footprints,” She stood next to the broom with her back to the wall in order to see the path better and as she did, she leaned against the wall which swung backward and she fell on her back with an ‘oof’.

At seeing part of the wall swing inward and Sadie partially fall through it, K’lai’a’la leapt over Sadie, raising her daggers defensively as she looked through the doorway but what she saw beyond made her pause. Sadie got up and was joined by the rest of the group as they looked upon a pile of raggedly dressed people who appeared to be asleep. There was a normal door across the room but it was shut and nobody was present besides those sleeping. It was a strange enough sight that they didn’t move for a moment but then Sadie started into the room.

“We have to ask them what is going on,” she whispered. These people were not elves so they might not be involved if Taerand’s suspicions were correct but the combination of the hooded figure and the secret door in the cellar was proof that something was going on. The group didn’t protest as she approached them but watched the second door warily.

When Sadie got to the sleeping people and her light shined on them, they were worse than she expected. Their eyes were dark and sunken and they were all in various states of starvation but they seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

“Excuse me,” Sadie whispered and gently shook one woman’s shoulder. Her head rolled loosely and she didn’t respond. They were definitely breathing as far as Sadie could tell so she shook her a little harder but nothing changed. Then Kireen came over and placed her hand on the woman’s head and muttered a few words. Sadie could feel the magic on them but couldn’t understand the words. They were beautiful and comforting all the same. A ripple in the air spread from Kireen’s shoulder down over the woman but nothing changed outwardly. Kireen gently slapped the woman’s face a few times, enough that should have awoken anyone in a normal type of sleep but she remained limp and unconscious.

There was something wrong with them, even Brimir and K’lai’a’la started trying to wake any of the people. There was a snap behind them and Kireen straightened with a gasp of pain. Behind them were four elves and Kireen bared her teeth at them as she ripped the crossbow bolt out of her shoulder.

Taglist: (adds/removes always open!) @betwixtofficial @taerandcalentavar @talesfromaurea @faelanvance @definitelyquestionit @drippingmoon @dontcrywrite @a-wild-bloog

#original work #high fantasy #oc #d&d #writeblr #sadieblaze #kireen #k'lai'a'la #taerand #brimir #post 33 #thank you all so much for having patience with me #I'm glad to be back and I really hope you all are as excited to see this post as I am to be posting it <3 #Everyone's support kept me going and made sure I would get here when I was ready #sorry about the cliff hanger I told myself I'd get twice as much done than I posted here but I didn't want anything too long #but the rest is coming!

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ahsokasshoto · 3 years ago

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the weight down in the deep of you: a lucky batch fic ☘️

(guys!! i finally wrote a thing!!! feat. why ballast's name is ballast and why jackal loves throwing his prosthetic arms so much. hope you enjoy!!!)

A ballast is the secret, vital core of a ship: the weight down in the deep of you that keeps a vessel upright in dark water. - Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two

The sun hung low and hazy in the sky and most of the clones of the 37th battalion were still sleeping in their camp when a terrifyingly loud, terrifyingly explosive sound erupted from nearby the ship.

“What the kriff--” Jackal moaned, jolting awake. He held his head. He hated loud noises at the best of times; and it was even worse to be rudely awoken by one.

“Was that an attack?” another voice sounded. It was Ryder.

“I don’t know, di’kut,” Cypher responded groggily. “Why don’t you go out and look?”

Several of the Lucksters stumbled out of their tents into the cool morning air and looked around. It didn’t look like they were in immediate danger, but there was some smoking coming from Ballast’s workstation.

On closer inspection, the entire workstation--as well as much of the dark, sandy ground--was covered in soot and ash. The greatest amount was collected on Ballast’s face. At least he’d had the sense to wear goggles.

“Oh, hey boys,” Ballast greeted his batchmates cheerily as they came over. “Just a faulty wire. Sorry if I woke you. I’m going to see if there’s any replacement parts on the ship.”

He walked off, whistling a sprightly tune as he went. His brothers shared glances between them, shaking their heads.

“Does anything rattle that guy?” Rane wondered aloud. Jackal glanced toward Ballast’s retreating frame, a small smile gracing his features.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he replied, a faraway look gracing his features as a memory overtook him.

The air was so thick with blaster fire, it was nearly impossible to see. This was not ideal for the clones of the 37th Battalion, who wound their way through a massive and labyrinthine Separatist facility. They were on mission from the Jedi council to retrieve a particular set of data for the Republic. The security around the facility was so great that they needed all hands on deck to help keep them at bay while others infiltrated the facility, which was why Cypher and Ballast found themselves winding their way through the dark hallways along with Jackal and Ryder. Jackal and Ryder were used to the front lines, but Ballast and Cypher were not usually in the thick of things like this. They’d been raised and trained for battle, but their talents typically had them supporting the other soldiers in other ways.

Now, they found themselves hunkered down in a side hallway while droids bore down on them from either side and they wouldn’t have time to retreat back the way they came before the droids caught up to them. Jackal held his head, struggling with the noise of the blasters. Ryder pat himself down wildly, trying to find which of his weapons still had any fuel left.

The familiar clicking of empty blasters sounded from Cypher’s pistols. “This is bad. This is terrible, disastrous, catastrophic!” he shouted over the noise as he hunkered down in the hallway.

“Keep it together, Cypher,” Ballast said, his voice steady despite the hammering in his chest. He’d never been in a position like this before, but he knew they all needed to stay calm if they were going to make it out alive. Still, he was painfully aware that they were outnumbered and outgunned. Glancing around, he noticed a control panel on the opposite wall. They could use that to short the circuits and get the doors shut to cover their retreat. But they didn’t have enough ammo left to cover him while he worked on it. His heart pounded furiously, his stomach was in his throat, but he forced himself to take a breath and clear his mind. There was a solution. There had to be, and he would find it.

A blaster bolt came frighteningly close to their position of cover and Jackal threw his arms up over his head, his metal prosthetic hitting Ballast in the process. Wait….there it was! The solution!

“Jackal!” Ballast hissed to his brother. “Your prosthetic. We can use it to short that panel and get the doors closed!”

“You want to use my arm?”

“I’ll make you a new one!”

Jackal’s eyes went wild for a moment before settling with a fierce determination. “All right,” he said, tugging on his prosthetic with his other arm. It came free in his hand and he passed it over to his brother. “But this had better work!”

“Yeah, I hope you know what you’re doing, Ballast!” Ryder cried, firing off a couple more of his few remaining shots. It wouldn’t be enough to last them if it didn't.

“So do I,” Ballast replied through gritted teeth as he whipped out a couple of tools from his pockets, opened the sockets of the prosthetic, and set furiously to work.

What felt like an eternity but was really only a few moments later, Ballast handed the prosthetic to Ryder. The fist was closed except for the pointer finger, which was extended. “You’ll have to be precise with this shot!”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Jackal cried, reaching for the prosthetic. Ballast was worried he’d changed his mind about using it, but he merely folded down the pointer finger and extended the middle finger.

“Really? Right now?” Cypher cried, but before anyone could say anything else, Ryder sucked in a breath and launched the prosthetic at the control panel.

The metal of the prosthetic alighted with sizzling electricity as it interacted with the panel. The boys held their breath for those agonizing seconds; the last thing they saw was the control panel fizzling and Jackal’s prosthetic dropping to the floor before the doors before them shut.

“It was the middle finger that did it,” Jackal voiced before they retreated back the way they had come.

Later that night, Ballast sat with a cluster of parts in his lap, working by the light of their campfire. He was determined to make Jackal’s new prosthetic even better than the last. Before long, he heard approaching footsteps and looked up to see Jackal coming over to join him by the fire. He sat down next to Ballast, who in turn shielded his project from Jackal’s eyes with his arm.

“Hey, let me see!” Jackal protested, craning his neck to try and sneak a look.

“It’s going to be a surprise!” Ballast replied, playfully knocking his brother in the shoulder.

“Alright, keep your secrets.” The two of them grew quiet as they gazed into the gently flickering flames.

“What a day, huh?” Jackal finally voiced. “You know, we managed to draw enough of the droids’ attention that the others were able to get the data we needed.”

“So I heard. Glad your sacrifice turned out to be worth it,” Ballast grinned. Jackal just shook his head, growing serious.

“How did you do it?”

“Oh, well, I had to recalibrate some of the motor functions so that when it hit the panel--”

“No,” Jackal interrupted Ballast before he was subjected to a long-winded explanation of mechanics. “How did you stay so calm? How weren’t you scared out of your mind like the rest of us?”

Ballast looked back at the fire. “I was,” he said after a long moment.

“Wait, really?” Jackal looked at him incredulously. “Didn’t seem like it.”

“When I’m working, there’s always a chance that something is going to break, misfire, explode….like a ship on rough water,” Ballast began to explain, his voice soft. “You can’t always predict the way the weather will turn, can’t control the wind or the waves, but you can control the way you carry yourself through it.” He allowed himself a small smile as he looked over at his brother. “Giving in to that fear wasn’t going to help any of us. I just wanted to be strong for us.”

Jackal smiled broadly back at Ballast, placing his remaining hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Well, thank you. For always being the weight to carry us through. And hey,” he added, “maybe you should make a few more of those prosthetic arms. I kind of like that tactic.”

“I think I can do that,” Ballast grinned. Jackal chuckled.

“Just try not to let them explode, yeah? At least, not on purpose.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

@monako-jinn-stories @just-another-dreamerr @lynnpaper @lavenderstaars @foxlock @maygalodon @letsunity @oo-hazel-oo @generaltano @cosmicghostie @lusiawonder @the-lucky-batch @burnthashbrown27 @stereotypicalpicnicmat @mango-peachjuice @namesmox and other lucksters i missed!

#the lucky batch #cf 37 #cf37 #clone force 37 #37th battalion #cf37 ballast #cf37 jackal #cf37 ryder #cf37 cypher #cf37 rane

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

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A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

Summary: Roman and Remus have always fought, always. But this time they’re teaming up for something they both agree on. Getting their mentors together.

A/N: for @aimasup and @pixeldragon45 I might have taken some liberties with the story but I hope you guys like it. I wrote this after seeing this amazing post by aimasup.

Two brothers, royal born but divided in every single way. The elder twin strove for honor and chivalry, raised in the royal court around the other knights and the tales of rulers and knights from the kingdom’s history in ages past. Some stories were true, others had been exaggerated more than a bit.

The younger twin had been mostly shoved into his elder brother’s shadow — a brother who was older by little less than an hour — and quickly began to act out as a result.

They quickly began to be divided on the battlefield. The younger prince had been kidnapped one day by a powerful shape changing mage when he was sixteen and just decided not to go back and the royal knights found him playing old maid with her in the tower, and he threw them out the door with a note for his parents and brother.

He had declared himself “the monsters’ problem now” and was not coming back.

It was Prince of Sanders Roman’s sword and “good” magic, versus Duke of the Dark Wood Remus’s pranks and illusions.

But that is not today’s story. The fight between good and evil is for another day.

On the edge of the city, bordering the untamable Dark Woods where monsters called home, there was a tavern. It was on a trade road that went around the woods and towards the neighboring kingdom. The tavern was a way stop before reaching the capital city of Roman’s kingdom.

It was absolutely pouring down rain when a cloaked young man ran into the tavern. He pulled down his hood after looking around the tavern. Prince Roman had come to this tavern frequently, it was considered neutral ground because the caravans that came through, the residents of the Dark Woods traded between each other and the merchants protected their clients.

Against a wall, Roman spotted his brother sitting at a table, a plate of food and three empty mugs of ale next to him.

Roman walked over and naturally turned up his nose at the magic keeping Remus from getting too tipsy. “You couldn’t wait until I got in could you?”

“Ahh, brother,” Remus smiled. “I got hungry, I got bored. There’s a very cute bartender over there.”

Remus blew a kiss and waggled his fingers at the young man in question.

“Focus,” Roman hissed at him.

Remus smiled, “So I take it you received my letter?”

“You contemptuous oaf,” Roman sneered at Remus. Roman was pulling out of his cloak a dirt speckled note that had a stick figure drawing of Roman’s fairy godmother and Remus’s mentor, the dragon witch, on it holding hands. The words: canon ship xoxoxoxo maybe?!?! Meet me at the Salty Unicorn at 10pm if you agree plz thx; were written, half scrunched into the left corner of the paper as if the second half was an unplanned addition. On the front it was addressed to: my horridly good brother, Roman; from: your bestest coolest brother, Remus.

Roman shook the note violently. “Did you write this in mud? Mother would have you raked over hot coal for a note this foul!”

Remus clapped in excitement, “So you’ll help me?”

“What type of cad do you take me for?” Roman scoffed, throwing the note down onto the table. “Of course I will.”

Shaking his hands, Remus just about squealed in delight, his smile widening. “The journey will be perilous, brother.”

“Oh please, it will be easy,” Roman scoffed. “It’s true love, and they are already smitten. Half of our job is done for us.”

It was, in fact, not easy. It was easy for the two princes to get back to their homes. But when they met back up at the border of the Dark Woods a couple weeks later, Roman challenged Remus to come out and fight him. The royal prince had to fight several goblins before Remus showed up, mace in hand and swinging it around wildly like a maniac. He managed to hit three goblins, who didn’t scramble away fast enough, in the face before he made contact with Roman’s shield.

Buzzing around Roman was a bright blue hummingbird, a little puffball of feathers and magic. She was fluttering around the royal prince, magic coming off her wings like glitter.

During the twin’s duel for honor and a bit of fun, a flash of shadow flew across as a large bat flew towards him and hit the hummingbird out of the air.

“You fiend!” Roman spat as the hummingbird seemed to glow and in an explosion of feathers a woman appeared in a billowing blue and white dress, the little jewel beads of the dress glittering and sparkling in the light. For a second or two she looked like she was covered in soft down before having more human light tan skin.

“That was a cheap shot,” Althea the fairy godmother reminded tersely as the Dragon Witch turned from a bat to a bony witch in a very dark red dress, her skin an ivory ash color.

“Please it’s almost like you wanted to get hit,” the Dragon Witch reminded. “Besides you two were gaining up on my sweet Remus.”

Althea swept her hair back, which frustrated the Dragon Witch because even in a fight it always looked flowing and fluffy.

“Give up,” the Dragon Witch smiled. “These woods are ours.”

“Never!” Althea shouted. “Your reign of terror is over.”

Lights and magic flew across the battlefield. In the end Remus and Roman had tied again as the Dragon Witch was thrown back by a gust of wind.

“Meddling child,” the Dragon Witch spat.

“Surly, caustic witch,” Althea snapped back. “Be gone and go back to your unhallowed woods. We are victorious.”

“I clearly won,” the Dragon Witch smiled smugly.

Althea made a little angry pout, crossing her arms in a huff, “You’ve done no such thing. Even if you two did win, it would only be because you both cheated.”

The Dragon Witch had some big gloating tirade of sarcastic insults, but seeing her little pout where she puffed out her cheeks a bit and looked like she was sticking her tongue to the inside of her cheek and . . . she . . . what was she going to say again? Something about her cute face? No, Althea would just make fun of her for that.

“Yeah? Well you . . .” The Dragon Witch tried not to look absolutely flustered. “. . . you’re just a poor sport.”

Althea looked angrier while the Dragon Witch was just internally screaming. Poor sport? Who says that? What are you five? Did you just get kicked out of the academy?

Remus was standing behind them, a huge toothy grin on his face that made the Dragon Witch want to have his face dragged in the mud or put worms in his stew.

Glancing at her student again she saw that both he and Roman had stopped fighting and the two of them were just watching the two mages arguing. The whole thing smacked of a trick of some kind and right now the Dragon Witch couldn’t figure out what type of trap that meant.

So she appreciated whatever the hustle was, even though she doubted that Remus had turned on her. He would be up front about it, and predictably violent.

He was a good kid so . . .

She looked over at Roman who seemed to be just as excited as Remus was, except he was staring at Althea . . .

“Wait a second,” the Dragon Witch realized.

“I will not be waiting any seconds,” Althea refused, not understanding.

The Dark Woods mage immediately remembered that the good witch had been talking to her and she had been ignoring her. But one look at her face reminded the witch why she had a crush in the first place.

“Yes or no?” Althea ordered, pointing at her?

“Uh,” the Dragon Witch stalled, staring at her, “no?”

Althea’s face got a bit fuzzy with her anger, the feathers around her face was almost a pinking color.

She looks so adora— no, don’t she’ll just turn you down.

“I can’t believe this, you’re so frustrating,” Althea huffed out. She stomped her feet a bit and grabbed Roman, “We’re leaving.”

“But you didn’t . . . I mean, justice,” Roman sputtered as he was dragged towards a carriage that had been hiding up the road to stay out of the fight.

“Don’t say a word,” the Dragon Witch ordered Remus as they watched them walk away.

“Why Maggie?” Remus smiled, setting his hands and chin on the hilt of his mace.

“If you don’t, I’ll use your tongue for a gibberish concoction,” she threatened.

“Awwww,” Remus’s grin was particularly sharkish. “Someone’s just being a poor sport.”

The Dragon Witch whipped her staff around and lightly cuffed him on the back of the head.

Inside Roman’s carriage, the royal prince was just listening to his fairy godmother rant at him.

Althea was sitting with her face buried in her hands, her face red as a tomato. “That woman is so infuriating! Ugh, what kind of game is she playing?”

“Who knows with them?” Roman shrugged.

“Maybe if she wasn’t so cute, I’d know what to say,” Althea accidentally said out loud.

She blushed even harder with embarrassment and looked up at Roman. “Uh, I mean—”

Roman stared at her for a second before pulling apart the divider behind them and turning to yell, “Cam! Turn this cart around, we got a date to catch!”

“Roman!” Althea yelled, her face getting even redder. “She’s the queen of the Dark Woods!”

“And the Dark Woods is about to get themselves another fabulous queen,” Roman proclaimed.

The cart had stopped, the driver turned around in his seat to verify, “Are you sure you want to go back to the Dark Woods, Sir?”

“Oh yeah,” Roman smiled. “I know we’re only three minutes out. We could walk there. Oh, and you and Quil are about to cough up five pounds a piece.”

“Roman!” Althea shrieked as the carriage began to move back towards the haunted woods.

“It’s true love, my darlingest mentor,” Roman insisted, “and I have it on good authority that she thinks you’re good looking.”

Althea got even redder, “Who told you that?”

“Well Remus was cruder but I understood the intent,” Roman answered.

“He could be lying,” Althea accused.

“Please, my brother is the worst liar in all the kingdoms,” Roman defended, almost offended for the brother he fought on a regular basis’s honor. “He’s crude, rude, and violent, but he is no liar.”

“She really likes me?” Althea asked.

“How could she not?” Roman demanded. “Now, we have true love to prepare for my dear.”

“Let’s just start at a first date, Roman,” Althea insisted. “It’s a little soon for anything like that.”

“You’ll see,” Roman smiled, looking out the window. “She’s over the moon for you.”

Eventually the carriage stopped because Remus was standing in the middle of the road with the Dragon Witch next to him.

Roman opened a top hatch in the carriage, “Ahh, good, we were just about to go and find you two again.”

“I’d like your men to stop accosting my woods,” the Dragon Witch spat.

“When you get your marauding bandits to stop attacking my people,” Roman bargained.

“How about when you pay my woods back for generations of war crimes?” The Dragon Witch’s eyebrow shot up.

“We shouldn’t have to defend ourselves from being set on fire,” Roman reminded. “I’d be happy to start calling off the war if we could trust you won’t pick up arms against us the moment we have our backs turned.”

“Ugh!” Remus complained. “We’re not here to talk about politics! We’re here to talk about two lovely ladies getting freaky!”

“Ah, thank you Remus,” Roman clapped his hands, smiling. “Thank you, for once, for getting us back on topic.”

Roman waved his hands and when his hand came back up Althea in her hummingbird form was perched on two of his fingers. The royal prince exited the carriage with her, clearing her throat. “Queen Dragon Witch of the Dark Woods, I present to you the Good Witch of the Sanders Kingdom. She is as intelligent as she is brave and you shall be permitted to court her on the grounds that you vow to honor and cherish her, to treat her as the lady she is.”

“That’s it?” The Dragon Witch asked, clearly braced for more.

“Yeah, she has to vow the same,” Remus cut in.

“Naturally, my mentor is no brute,” Roman agreed.

“No I meant is he going to demand anything else of me,” the Dragon Witch told Remus.

Roman briefly ran over his speech in his head and ducked back in to grab the paper he had rehearsed with, reading back over it, “honor and cherish . . . no I got everything.”

“No land, no unfavorable terms?” The Dragon Witch seemed surprised and astonished.

The royal prince made an offended gasp, “My great-great grandfather’s petty squabbles have no bearing when love is on the table. Naturally if any deals for land and power are to be carried out, our courts should both be here for that.”

The Dragon Witch just stared at Roman for a bit before smiling, “You know, you’re a spoiled rich human brat, but I think you’ll actually make a good king one day.”

“Thanks?” Roman wasn’t sure if he’d been insulted or not. “I think?”

The Dragon Witch held out her hand and Althea transformed back, looking a little bit nervous. “You really are the most beautiful fairy in the lands,” the Dragon Witch told her.

Althea was just staring at her, “You are too.”

The twin brothers were standing close to the carriage and Roman’s driver, the three of them just watching the two of them talking.

“Janny owes me big for this,” Remus was almost cackling.

“Are you making deals with that snake?” Roman critiqued.

“How about you get off my ass and let me live my life?” Remus glared at him. “Besides his mother is happy, what could be better than that?”

“You do have to admit,” Cam said to Roman from his seat above them, “they do look happy.”

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, acquiescing on that front.

The two witches talked for a bit before they inevitably had to part ways. They would meet again on the battlefield, but next time it would be a not-so-quiet show of magic, designed to impress rather than harm.

#The High Tower #fantasy au #Roman Sanders #Remus Sanders #dragon witch x fairy godmother #Dragon Witch #Fairy Godmother #gay panic

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clumsyclifford · 3 years ago

Note

lashton prompt: luke falling asleep on skype and ashton taking the opportunity to draw him, bonus if someone else finds the sketches before ashton shows them to luke

meghna this prompt is from almost a full calendar year ago. i am proud to report that after all this time i did in fact manage to set it in spideyverse because that’s how determined i am. more info in ao3 notes but it takes place in the summer before their senior year of high school, so after the events of everything else in spideyverse so far

read here on ao3

Ashton will have to thank Maya later for the tip about the Fine Arts Room. He jimmies the door handle and, as promised, the door swings opens to reveal a darkened room full of half-finished projects. They must really take the decency of humanity on faith here. Anyone could come in at any time and sabotage any of this work.

Ashton has less nefarious plans.

He sits at his usual spot but doesn’t turn any lights on; the big windows shine just enough moonlight into the room that Ashton can see the silhouettes of the furniture, and his laptop will be on in a moment anyway. Careful of the scattered pages over his workspace, he opens his computer and loads up Skype.

Just in time for an incoming call.

Ashton fumbles with his headphones and plugs them in with one hand while he accepts the call with the other. The screen fills with Luke’s brightly-lit, highly pixelated face. Chin in his hands, elbows propped on his desk, hair a ruffled mess (from the mask, Ashton knows) — the sight of him fills Ashton with warmth.

“Hey,” Luke says, smiling his usual cheeky smile. They’ve been texting sporadically, but seeing Luke’s face — hearing his voice — gives Ashton a fluttery feeling behind his sternum. Calum would call that anatomically impossible, but he’d do it with a smirk. “I can barely see you.”

“I’m sitting in the dark,” Ashton explains. His voice is a hushed whisper even though he knows it’s absurd to be paranoid. They’re supposed to be confined to their bunks by now, and the staff and counselors will all be asleep. The only reason he and Luke are calling now, past midnight, is because now is the only time they’re both available. “I’m in the Fine Arts Room.”

“Ooh, can I see?”

“I don’t want to turn on the lights,” Ashton says. “There are windows and stuff.”

“Are you not supposed to be there?” Luke raises an eyebrow and grins. “Ooh, is Ashton Irwin sneaking around?”

“Well, if we weren’t calling at the middle of the night, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t they lock the buildings?” Luke suddenly looks concerned.

Ashton shrugs. “Maya told me that if I jiggle the handle, the door will open. She was right.”

“Go Maya,” Luke says. “I like Maya. Who’s Maya?”

“My new friend,” says Ashton. “She mostly paints. We’ve got a challenge going on about whether she’s better at drawing or I’m better at painting, since neither of us really use those mediums. Hannah — one of the other campers — is going to find something for us to both paint slash draw and then there’ll be an unofficial panel of judges. It’s pretty stupid.”

“You’re smiling a lot,” Luke says, and Ashton realizes he is. “Doesn’t sound stupid to me. You think you’re gonna win?”

“No,” Ashton says honestly. “I’m pretty awful at painting.”

“I’m sure you’re better than you think. How hard can it be?”

“That’s very rich coming from you, Mr. I-Can’t-Draw-A-House.”

“Hey, fuck off! I can draw a house, thank you very much.” Luke looks down at his desk and his focus shifts, and Ashton watches in bemused patience. As he waits, he draws a blank piece of paper towards him and grabs the nearest pencil lying around. His hands move almost unconsciously, drawing lines and curves and sketching the outline of something Ashton hasn’t quite decided on yet. Luke finally lifts his head up. “Here, see?” He holds up a piece of paper to the camera, where he’s drawn a box with an isosceles triangle on top for the roof, complete with a little chimney sticking out. “House,” Luke proudly declares. “Boom. Get fucked, Irwin.”

“I stand corrected,” Ashton chuckles. He hums. “They’ll probably just find us equally talented because painting is different from drawing and blah blah blah artsy hipster bullshit.”

“Stop dismissing the artsy hipster bullshit,” Luke says stubbornly. “I’ll have you know my boyfriend deals exclusively in artsy hipster bullshit.”

“You think my drawings are artsy hipster bullshit?”

“No, babe, I think you are artsy hipster bullshit.” Luke grins widely and then gets cut off by a yawn. Ashton bites back a very cheesy comment about how Luke should web himself up for being criminally cute.

“You know what, I’m gonna let you have that one,” he says instead. “Since I am at an artsy hipster bullshit summer camp.”

“I miss you.” Luke pouts. It’s a funny look on him. Ashton tries to imagine Spiderman pouting and completely fails. Sometimes it’s hard for him to reconcile Luke and Spiderman being the same person. That this adorable six-foot-and-change beanstalk who yawns on Skype is the same person who can do a double-backflip and land on his feet on the rooftop of any building. Ashton’s boyfriend stops crimes. What the fuck.

“I miss you too,” he says. “You seem tired.”

“I’m not tired.” Instant karma is a bitch. Luke immediately yawns again, this time much wider. “Okay, I’m a little tired,” he admits, smacking his lips like a child. “Summer break is deceptively boring. I…I run out of things to do all day, so I just kinda…keep patrolling. I might be wearing myself out.”

“Jesus, Luke, take it easy on yourself. Queens goes the entire school day without Spiderman’s protection during the school year. You can handle a break.”

“Yeah, but I might as well patrol,” Luke counters. “I have the time, and it’s not like I’m doing anything else.”

“I thought you and Michael were working on new specs for the suit.”

“It’s mostly Michael. Also, I think he’s kind of annoyed about the whole 24/7 patrol. He can’t work on the suit if I’m wearing it.”

“That is true.”

“But he’s been spending a lot of his time with Calum, anyway,” Luke says coolly. “So I figure he’s probably got other priorities.”

“Well, if you keep blowing him off to obsessively patrol the city, I can’t possibly imagine why he’s making other plans.”

Luke stares through the camera. His shoulders slump. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Ashton chirps.

Luke sighs deeply. “You’re not here, Ash.”

Ashton purses his lips and frowns. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I’m just saying. I miss you. I wish you were here.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. He misses Luke too, more than is probably healthy. That’s what he gets, he supposes, for only having a handful of close relationships; Luke and Calum are his whole life, and not being able to hug either one of them for even a week has been pretty challenging. “But look, it’s only another week, and then I am all yours, I swear.”

“Don’t enable me,” Luke says, affronted. “You’re supposed to say things like… ‘You don’t own me’ and ‘I’m my own person’ and stuff like that.”

Ashton blinks, confused. “Uh…well, yeah, but we both already know that. I’m just saying I miss you too. But if it’s any consolation, Maya has ruthlessly mocked me for all the drawings I do of you. Like mercilessly. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”

“That is super embarrassing,” Luke says, with a small, bashful smile. “You’re so fucking lame, Ashton.”

“Wow,” Ashton says. “You even sound like her.”

Luke giggles, which turns seamlessly into a yawn. “Hey, I came first. Maya sounds like me.”

“Luke, babe, just go to sleep,” Ashton says. “We can talk another night. Maybe one where you’re more well-rested.”

“I’m super rested,” Luke says in a monotone. “King of restedness, me.”

“Wow, I’m suddenly convinced.” Luke makes a half-hearted face at him and Ashton makes one back. The sketch under Ashton’s pencil has revealed itself to be Luke, yet again. Shocker. It really is embarrassing that Ashton defaults to drawing his boyfriend. If they ever break up, Ashton will be fucked.

“Are you drawing?” Trust Luke to notice. Although the fact that it’s taken him this long to notice means he must be slower on the uptake than usual.

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because when is he not.

“Drawing what?”

“Guess,” Ashton says dryly.

Luke gives a sleepy smile. “At least you’re predictable.”

“Luke, I’m begging you to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow or this weekend or something, okay?”

Luke yawns yet again. “Okay,” he agrees, right hand propping up his head. His eyes flutter shut and then open again. “Okay, fine.”

“And please let Michael look at your suit,” Ashton adds. “You know he’s only going to make it better.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Luke’s eyes fall shut again. It seems more out of tiredness than distress. “If I give it to him, then I can’t use it.”

Ashton’s pretty sure if Luke’s hero complex gets any bigger he’s going to have to start renting out rooms. “It’ll be two days, tops,” he says. “Take two days off.”

“I wanna wait ‘til you’re back,” Luke mumbles. “Spend ‘em with you.”

“You spend most of your time with me,” Ashton says gently. “Spend them with Michael. Hell, spend them with Cal.”

“But I want…” Luke yawns. He lists sideways a little. “I want you.”

Ashton chews his lip. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he says. “You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Luke hums absently. “‘Kay, g’night,” he slurs, but makes no gesture to hang up the call. He probably expects Ashton to end it. If Luke is as asleep as he looks right now, Ashton kind of has to.

The graphite on the sketch paper is smudging a little. Ashton glances down at the half-assed likeness of his boyfriend and has an idea.

Quietly, he grabs another blank page, moves his laptop back a little, and starts to draw.

They’re up bright and early the next day, and after breakfast Ashton follows a decidedly more lively Maya into the Fine Arts Room, where she takes her place diagonally from him at their table. They’re both mid-project; Ashton stacks and sets aside his scratch papers and pulls forth the drawing he’s currently working on.

“So? You talked to Luke?”

Ashton blinks and looks up at Maya. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks for the tip, I meant to say.”

“Hey, don’t thank me, thank Cupid,” Maya says airily. “I’m on the side of love, baby.”

Ashton snorts and rolls his eyes. “Let Cupid know I say thanks.”

Maya hums. “Cupid says you’re welcome.”

They’re quiet while Maya gets herself set up — she has to put all her acrylics back every evening only to set them back out every morning, another reason Ashton prefers pencils over paints — and Ashton picks up his pencil and starts to draw.

“Is this yours?” Maya asks, peering at Ashton’s discarded stack of sketches.

“Yeah,” Ashton says without looking. “Just sketches and stuff.”

“Wait, this is so cute.” She’s leaning over the drawing on the top. Ashton glances up.

It’s Luke from last night, soundly asleep over Skype.

Ashton had ended the call after about ten minutes of silence, enough time to get the rough outlines of all the important shapes. The video quality wouldn’t have lent itself to a good sketch anyway if Ashton had been chasing authenticity, but fortunately he knows Luke’s face well enough — both from drawing it and gazing at it in real life — to pretend the call had had a crystal-clear picture. None of it is colored in, but it’s as obviously Luke as all of Ashton’s other drawings. Somehow, though, this one feels more personal.

“Did you draw this last night?”

“Uh,” Ashton says, reaching for the drawing. He shuffles it between several other papers so an innocuous collection of doodles is now at the top of the stack, and Maya clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Hey, I was looking at that. It was cute.”

“Yeah, it’s— it’s just nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, it’s adorable,” Maya says. She fixes him with puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeease can I see it? I won’t show anyone. I’m studying so I can kick your ass in our competition.”

Ashton sighs. “It’s just Luke. You’ve seen millions of drawings of him.”

“But those were obviously from memory,” Maya points out, taking his non-answer as an affirmative and sifting through the stack. Ashton doesn’t bother trying to stop her. It’s not like he has anything to hide — or at least not anything Maya could figure out by looking at the drawing.

And in her defense, Luke does look cute as fuck in the drawing, because he’d looked cute as fuck in real life.

“For all you know, this one is also from memory.”

“You drew the screen, Ash, it’s clearly from last night.”

“Well,” Ashton says diplomatically. Then he abandons diplomacy, because Maya has located the drawing and is grinning and aww-ing. “Well do you blame me? He fell asleep on our call. It was adorable.”

Maya giggles. “You guys are so fucking cute,” she says. “Y’know, most people would be insulted if their boyfriend fell asleep on a video call with them.”

“He’s been really busy lately,” Ashton says. “And it was the end of the call anyway.”

“One day, I will have someone to draw me when I fall asleep on our Skype calls,” Maya says wistfully. “I’m putting the vibes out into the universe so it’ll happen soon.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one drawing them,” Ashton points out.

Maya finally sets down the Luke drawing. She dips her brush in red paint, clearly intending to put it into her work, but at Ashton’s words instead brandishes it threateningly at him. “I won’t be drawing anyone, buddy.”

Ashton laughs. “But you’d date someone who drew instead of painted?”

“At this point?” Maya sighs theatrically. “I’d date just about anyone who did anything.”

Ashton laughs again. They work quietly for a few minutes. Ashton starts shading.

“Why do you only ever draw Luke?” Maya asks. “You said you’ve been together for less than a year. Who were you drawing before then?”

Ashton shrugs. “Uh, anyone, really,” he says. “People. There are a lot of pretty interesting people at my school, and besides, I’m from the city.”

Maya snorts derisively. “You’re from Queens.”

“Queens is in the city.”

Another derisive snort. “Queens is in the city the same way using ink stamps is painting.”

“That’s not even a little bit the same thing, at all.”

“You’re not a city boy.”

“I am literally a city boy!” Maya waves him off, but Ashton ignores her. She’s from Massachusetts. She has no leg to stand on. “My point is that there are lot of interesting people near where I live, too.”

“You didn’t ever, I don’t know, draw your friends? Calum, didn’t you say he’s your best friend from home?”

“Ah, yeah,” Ashton says. “Calum. Didn’t like when I drew him.”

“What, seriously? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says, and it’s true. “He just asked me to stop drawing him one day so I did.” He hesitates. “...Mostly. Sometimes I still do. But if you knew Calum you’d understand why. He’s extremely good-looking.”

“Of course he is,” Maya says. “Any chance he’s single and/or interested in women from several states away?”

“No to both questions,” Ashton says sympathetically. “But good try.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Maya says good-naturedly, and they lapse into silence again.

It’s broken by Maya, again. “Do you show Luke the drawings you do of him?”

That’s a complicated question. No, Ashton doesn’t actively show his drawings to Luke, but Luke usually sees them anyway. Some of them are more private; Ashton keeps the one of Luke in the Spiderman suit sans mask folded up in the bottom of his socks drawer where he’s pretty certain no one ever looks. There doesn’t seem to be a point to showing it to Luke now, so long after he’d actually done it. But for the most part he’s not hiding his art from Luke; Luke sees what he sees, notwithstanding Ashton’s intention.

“Sometimes,” Ashton says.

Maya nods at the drawing of Luke asleep on Skype. “You gonna show him that one?”

“Uh, probably not.”

“What, why? It’s so cute.”

“I don’t know, maybe because it makes me seem like a ridiculous lovesick borderline creepy idiot?”

“Guys love that,” Maya assures him. “Or so I’m told. C’mon, why hold out on him when he already knows you’re basically obsessed with drawing him?” She taps the drawing. “And when he looks this adorable?”

Ashton breathes a laugh. “You have a point.”

“I always do,” Maya says, and she flips her hair dramatically.

Maybe Michael would let Ashton draw him. That would be a nice change from always drawing Luke and never drawing Calum. Maybe Ashton could just do it and then ask Michael what he thinks. It would be nice to have new muses. Ashton has spent a lot of time on Luke; maybe it’s about time he branched out again.

“Hey,” Ashton says, struck with inspiration as he watches Maya make brushstrokes across her paper. “Can I draw you?”

“Hell yeah, go for it,” Maya says. “I’m not sitting still for you, though.”

“I’ll live,” Ashton says dryly. Maya grins and laughs. A fresh page before Ashton and a new pencil in his hand, he studies Maya’s profile carefully and then brings his pencil to the page.

“Did you break into the Fine Arts Room again?”

“I don’t think it’s breaking in if it’s technically unlocked,” Ashton points out.

Luke squints but evidently fails to argue with this logic. “How’s artsy hipster bullshit camp?”

“Really good,” Ashton says, cracking his knuckles. His parents have told him repeatedly that doing so will give him arthritis, but Ashton suspects that’s more of a scare tactic than a fact. At this point he doubts even rehab could get him to stop. It’s the only thing Ashton can think to do with his hands when he’s not drawing. “By the way, remember the other day when you fell asleep on our call?”

I fell asleep at the end of our call,” Luke corrects him. “We were done talking.”

“Okay, weirdo,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “Well, anyway, Maya convinced me that I should show you this because maybe you’d think it was cute, or something.” He holds up the drawing of Luke.

Luke leans closer to the camera. Anyone else might have trouble discerning what’s on the page given how dim it is around Ashton, but not Luke. Luke has super-senses. His visual acuity is, like, a thousand. (Rough estimate.)

So when Luke’s face splits into a grin, Ashton knows he’s seen exactly what’s there. “Oh my fucking God, you sap,” he says. “I thought you just hung up straightaway.”

“Nope,” Ashton says. “I’m just saving moments. One day I’ll have enough for a flip book.”

Luke’s expression goes all mushy and heart-eyed. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, fond and endeared. “I can’t believe you’re not bored of my dumb face yet.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen your dumb face?” Ashton laughs. “It’s impossible to be bored of it.”

“Ashton,” Luke says, his eyes crinkling so much that the blue all but disappears. “I love you.”

And everything makes sense.

“I love you too,” Ashton says, struck by the realization that he does. The drawings, the midnight Skype calls, the death-defying trips around the city with only his faith in Luke to keep them afloat, the fluttery feeling — all of the colors lock into place, and Ashton can see the rainbow clear as day in front of him. He’s never been in love; of course he couldn’t tell. But there’s nothing else it could be.

“Oh, good,” Luke says timidly. “I was a little worried you wouldn’t say it back.”

Ashton glances from the drawing in his hand to the look on Luke’s face on the screen, and he cracks a crooked smile. “Then you, superhero, have not been paying attention.”

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fmdtaeyong · 3 years ago

Photo

taeyong through titan’s eras

titan’s maknae, main vocal, and lead dancer taeyong over the course of his almost eleven-year career, from debut at age 15 to the present, at age 25. from the maknae of that new bc boy group to an artist in his own right (who has very little interest in being in said bc boy group).

headcanon: ash through the (titan) years

2011: in titan’s debut year, ash was just glad to be there. he hadn’t anticipated debuting with as much responsibility as he had as a main vocal and lead dancer. he was unsure of himself during these years and it was noticeable. ash had practically been born with confidence on stage, but when he got on stage with titan, he took his training about not standing out too much to heart too much. he liked the music they were doing at the time, but then again, he was approaching it with optimism instead of the pessimism he holds towards titan’s music today. he couldn’t relate to the emotions he was singing about in btd and be mine and ash’s strength is emoting emotions he can deeply connect to, not acting out emotions he’s never experienced. if he stood out during titan’s first year, it was only because of the prominence he had in their music vocally and the embarrassing korean stumbles he would make during tv appearances.

2012: titan only had one korean release during 2012, which gave ash time to train to work on himself. titan had blown up already by this point and it was a lot of pressure to handle so soon in ash’s career, being only sixteen at this time. he was still struggling with being the baby of the group at this point because though his baby face helped him stand out as the youngest in appearance, he still had little interest in acting the cute maknae role.

2013: seventeen at this point, ash was ready to be seen as an adult and treated like one, despite not being one. he’d begun to settle more into the quiet and mysterious niche of his at this point, which meant he felt more pressure to stand out in performances in order to prove he had a purpose in the group. the fame titan had solidified for themselves brought with it a critical eye on each performance they did and ash hadn’t enjoyed what tastes of criticism he’d already had. anyway. ash singing literally like 40% of the lines and center time in fanfare while even the other main vocals got like 10% each.......................... you know he got eaten alive by the other members’ akgaes!

2014: this was the busiest year of titan’s career based on pure comeback frequency. it was also the year ash came of age, meaning all titan members were adults now. ash perceives it that their comebacks this year were a little sexier than before, although it’s more obvious in the following year. he was coming into his own as a performer this year, though he’d also begun to grow bored of their sound. ash would like the him acting in titan’s mvs agenda to end by this point tho <3

2015: call me baby and love me right leaned further into sexy concepts than anything titan had done previously. he assumes bc didn’t predict his maknae innocence going down the drain in a scandal and that that has to do with moving from the angst of a group with teenagers to the sauve and sexy image titan assumes around this time, but it’s convenient. he got to show his versatility as a vocalist as he was praised just as much for how his voice matched their shift in style as he had been in their old style. sing for you was sentimental instead of sexy and is one of ash’s favorite titan releases. if you really forced him to answer, ash would say 2015 was titan’s peak musically.

2016: this is the point when ash starts to decide he’s tired of titan and doesn’t plan to renew. the whole sexy toxic guy thing isn’t new for titan, but he’s made several snide remarks to this day about how much he doesn’t support the romanticizing of the lyrics of monster. this was the year they solidified the image they have today and was arguably their last year as the indisputable top before polaris started to present themselves as serious competition. ash was receiving a lot of hate around this time, so on top of not connecting to the music at the time, 2016 is one of the years in titan’s career he views most negatively.

2017: #freeash. he likes neither kokobop nor power and considers them two of the weakest releases in titan’s discography, so the year was saved only by the release of his favorite titan title track, universe. since he debuted solo at the end of 2017, this was ash’s last year fully dedicated to the group, if you could even call it that when he was under the impression it’d be his last year in titan until the last moment. universe would have been a great disbandment song to go out on, he’s gotta say...

2018: ash was more focused on establishing his solo career than anything else this year. he wasn’t very attached to either release this year or titan as a whole. 2018 was really the beginning of him detaching from the group in favor of solo activities.

2019: ah, the return of the six toxic sexy boys <3 bad sort of hits, but he’s got bigger problems to worry about this year than how catchy titan’s music is. ankle injury and his disinterest in titan taken into consideration, ash was more engaged in titan’s performances than you might expect he was, but it didn’t stop the anti-driven narrative that he was completely phoning it in. obsession reminds ash to be grateful that his stylists sometimes let him not be as naked as some of the other titan members.

2020: ash only really participated in “now or never” promotions this year. song-wise and career-wise for titan it was fine... nothing life-changing. they’re past their ultimate peak now and that’s more than fine for ash.

2021: someone forgot to remind titan’s stylists that ash would like to keep his tits covered </3 again, ash is pretty indifferent towards titan’s releases in 2021. they’re getting repetitive without much to stand out, in ash’s opinion, but that’s what happens after a decade in the industry, so ash isn’t writing strongly worded letters to bc’s a&r department.

#* | character development.#// these ended up looking so bad but in my defense i hadn't giffed for years #// the other gifset i'll post isn't quite as ugly i think :pensive:#// ash having 40% of the lines in fanfare is his villain origin story #// ash is really like... idk some of titan's music is kinda toxic ? then stans the weeknd

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a-duck-with-a-book · 4 years ago

Text

REVIEW // Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle, #1) by Jay Kristoff

★☆☆☆☆

So I’m very late to the party, but I just finished reading Nevernight by Jay Kristoff I had such high hopes for this series based off of what people recommending it had told me and what I read about it before picking up. Dark fantasy? Check. Strong leading lady? I’m here for it. Gays? It’s literally my only personality trait. Sign me up. Unfortunately, this book fell flat in all those categories. It reminded me a lot of Sarah J. Maas’s Throne of Glass, which made me take one point off of to begin with simply for making me think of Maas’s writing. Overall, I just found the book to be too predictable, with bad writing, exposition, and pacing, and too many parts that just made me ~uncomfortable~.

In case you are not familiar with this novel, Nevernight tells the story of Mia Corvere, a girl who lost her family when she was a child after her father was convicted of treason. When the book begins, she is 16 years old and embarking on a journey to join the Red Church, a school for assassins, so that she may one day be able to avenge her father’s death. Along the way she meets a bunch of forgettable characters whose names I can’t be bothered to remember and is taught by the most fearsome killers in the Republic. Here she gains many valuable skills, like how to survive being poisoned, how to fight, and how to get big boobs.

+ Side note: by chapter 3 three I started picturing Mia as the crow guy from RWBY and I could not shake that for the rest of the book

I had many issues with this novel that I will try to summarize in some sort of coherent fashion, but to be honest this book sucked the will to live out of me so I don’t know how much energy I can put into this review.

// image: official cover art by Jason Chan //

FOOTNOTES

The footnotes were probably the most jarring element of the book for me, and, unfortunately, there’s a lot of them. Their function seems to be twofold:

they are the form of most of the world-building, explaining several customs, the history of the institutions and peoples Mia meets, and the mythology followed by the people of the Republic.

they allow for the narrator of our story to interrupt with comical one-liners or cryptic foreshadowing

In my humble opinion, both of these are unnecessary and stupid. The interruptions come off as crass and immature and make the other more textbook, boring exposition come off as a joke, especially when it is dealing with sensitive or serious topics. There is one that explains this brothel called the Seven Flavors, which the footnote explains refer to “Boy, Girl, Man, Woman, Pig, Horse, and, if sufficient notice and coin was given, Corpse.” Now, on its own, this passing mention of pedophilia, bestiality, and necrophilia could very well contribute to the world building and tone of the novel, but when placed side by side with the childish, joking tone of the “cue the violiiiiiiiins” or, regarding the acoustics of a room, “…they were, as it happens, exceptional. Falalalalalalaaaaaaaa”, come off as way too light-hearted for the topic at hand. Maybe I’m being way too sensitive, but I’m pretty tired of authors using serious topics as off-hand remarks as a lazy way to make their world daker and grittier. Plus, these footnotes were just so incredibly cringy that I would recoil from second-hand embarrassment every time. They resemble the things I wrote when I was 14 and trying (and miserably failing) to be funny. Also… there are way too many of them. While at first I appreciated the attempt to deepen the lore of the story (I’m a sucker for world-building), after a while it became evident that the author was just forcing information down our throats without taking the time to actually weave the lore and background into the story itself. It came off as a very lazy way to force exposition.

OVERLY FLOWERY LANGUAGE

This story is BRIMMING with similes and metaphors, like every other sentence is some overly complicated way to describe something that could have been presented in three words. When you include so many metaphors/similes/etc., they begin to lose power. They should allow the reader to extrapolate more meaning and emotion from a sentence, but if the book is bursting at the seams with them, they become increasingly ordinary, to the point of losing all of their luster. One prime example appears on page 30:

“It was a bucktoothed little shithole, and no mistake. Not the most miserable building in all creation. [here there is a footnote about some other inn/brothel] But if the inn were a man and you stumbled into him in a bar, you’d be forgiven for assuming he had—after agreeing enthusiastically to his wife’s request to bring another woman into their marriage bed—discovered his bride making up a pallet for him in the guest room.”

So first of all what the fuck is that supposed to mean? That whole paragraph is a fever dream. Let’s begin with “bucktoothed little shithole”. Bucktoothed? Really? What does that mean. Please, someone explain to be right now what a bucktoothed building is. Is it uneven? Is it awkward? Is it half-finished? Is one side longer than the other? Did they do a bad paint job that only covers on side? Are the windows askew? Is the door too big for its frame? We already know from the paragraph above that it is “disheveled” as well, so why the need for another weird phrasing of its appearance? We then move on to that whole JOURNEY of a sentence, where the inn is compared to a man being cuckolded. That is the most insane tale-can you imagine running into someone in a bar and that story being the VERY FIRST thing that runs through your mind??? I know I’m focusing way too much on this stupid paragraph, but basically what I am trying to get at is that even though we spend half a page talking about how bucktoothed and disheveled and cuckolded this building is, we get no actual physical description of it. Imagine if Kristoff had just written that it was a run-down, ill-kept building that looked as worse for wear as its owner did. Done, one sentence. Great. Let’s move on. Instead, we spend so long reading these absolutely batshit descriptions that ultimately tell us next to nothing. Flowery language is placed over actual context. You may think that a description this long and complex means that this inn is a significant or recurring setting in the novel. Nope. It’s not. Mia leaves and that’s that. The reason that I’m focusing so much on this objectively irrelevant paragraph is because it is so representative of the biggest issue I have with the writing in this book. There are so many unnecessary comparisons that function only to make the author feel clever rather than add anything to the story at all. It’s very à la 2010s Tumblr.

THE (IN MY OPINION, BAD) WRITING

For the first half of the book, we are constantly being TOLD things rather than being SHOWN things. With the exception of one of the teachers cutting off Mia’s arm, we rarely see the ruthlessness that the assassins are so feared for, but we hear about it in nearly every other sentence Where are the consequences? I think this book would have been way more enjoyable if there were actually consequences to the characters’ actions. The inclusion of the weaver and the weird vampire guy completely remove any tension regarding the fate of the central cast. When Mia had her arm chopped off, I was shocked, and pleasantly surprised. How was she going to overcome this unexpected obstacle in her training? Then a couple pages later, its reattached with absolutely no lasting consequences. All of the initial tension and shock value of the loss of Mia’s arm is entirely removed because of the two incest-y siblings. Their entire purpose for existing is just to undo all damage to the main characters. Then suddenly, out of the blue, Mia is willing to take on a ton of consequences and completely throw away her chance at becoming initiated in order to avenge her family just to save Tric from receiving like one punishment??? Like why?? As an aside, the only moment I truly enjoyed was when Ash fucking stabbed Tric to death. I assume that when the reader’s favorite moment is one of the central characters’ death, it does not bode well for their reception of the book.

THE THEMES

TW: rape-y subjects

The author seemed a little too keen to include rape and sexual assault in his story. Mia withdrew her consent in the sex scene in the very first chapter, and even if you read it as consensual (which I do not), it is described as incredibly unpleasant on her end. Tric is the result of a rape, which is brought up several times throughout the story. Further, Mia is constantly facing harassment from men. I understand that this is frames the idea that the world she lives in is misogynistic and ruthless, but there are other ways to push that idea through other than constantly putting in her in those situations. As in, this didn’t need to be the ONLY way we explored this subject. Beyond the uncomfortable propensity for sexual assault, I also very much disliked the sexualization of the 16-year-old main character. Oh. My. Gosh. Mia is CONSTANTLY sexualized. Every single damn character makes comments about her body, how hot she is, how much sex she potentially has. It is so weird and uncomfortable. I feel the need to reiterate that she is SIXTEEN. There is, however, a focus placed on the power Mia can gain from seducing her targets. Girl power? Not to me, really. The issue I have with this is the idea that a woman has to be overtly sexual in order to be considered powerful. This is something that we can see in many female assassins and supposedly powerful female characters in fiction (like Black Widow) especially those written by men. Now, there is nothing wrong with using one’s sexuality as a weapon, and I’m certainly not saying that a strong female character cannot be sexual, but the idea that a sixteen-year-old girl is shown having her body painfully modified tp be more desirable, and in a graphic sex scene with another character, in order to for the reader to read her as liberated and powerful does not sit well with me. I don’t really feel like this aspect of her training should be relevant to the overall story. I wish the time that Kristoff had dedicated to hammering into our heads that Mia is a femme fatale to developing her Darkin powers instead. The way she is written now feels more like she is a faux strong female character written for a male audience.

Secondly, Mia is fully written as “the plain-girl-who-is-actually-pretty”. This whole trope bothers me IMMENSELY. YA is full of girls who are described as plain, forgettable, or ugly while their physical descriptions are just the dictionary definition of conventionally attractive. It seems like a way to market off of girls’ self-consciousness while still being able to market the main character as a hot heroine in official art. And there is, of course, the issue of Mia’s boob job Readwithcindy (just “withcindy” now!) did a whole video about this so I won’t get into it much just to repeat what she already said, but I agree that the idea of a 30-something year old man including this completely unnecessary detail regarding the sexualization of teenage girl, who we have ALREADY seen in a rape and being sexualized by other men in the story, made me really, really, uncomfortable. I highly recommend you go watch her video, as she touches on this in way more detail. [Cindy's video

RATINGS

Worldbuilding: ★★☆☆☆

A lot of thought obviously went into the world-the mythology, society, and politics are well-thought out. But the way they are introduced is annoying and bland. It seems like the author put a lot of effort into constructing this world but realized a lot of it would be left out of the book, so he crammed it into footnotes instead.

Tone and writing style: ★☆☆☆☆ for first half, ★★★☆☆ for second half

The tone of the first half is all over the place, like it doesn’t know if it should be dark and gritty or comical and immature. Footnotes and character dialogue ranges from lighthearted and crass to seeped with themes of torture and sexual assault. It is jarring, to say the least, and often feels like the author doesn’t take these ideas of rape or violence seriously. There are so many instances where the scene is tense or gritty, and Kristoff is actually writing it pretty well, I’m enthralled and on the edge of my seat, and then Mia or some other character (or the footnotes) throw in some stupid comment or make the same “Mia is such an asshole lol” joke for the billionth time and completely ruin the mood of that scene. The second half of the book moved much faster and was helped with way better writing, but it really did not do enough to make up for the horrendous structure of the first half of the book.

Pacing and structure: ★☆☆☆☆

The first half of the book really drags on. Once we arrive at the school, there are constant jumps in timeline, marked with periods when a thousand things happen all at once and the plot moves forward at a dizzying rate, and others when the characters just seem to be going about their daily lessons.

Concept: ★★★☆☆

I found the overall idea of the books to be very interesting, even though it is certainly not the most original or unique concept for a YA fantasy book. The issue is that the potential is squandered with a poor execution.

Characters: ★☆☆☆☆

I truly did not care about any of the characters. The token mean girl, the bumbling nice-guy-who-is-definitely-the-love-interest. too many of the characters just sat nicely within their tropes, doing nothing much to pique my interests. I think my favorite overall was Mister Kindly.

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pocket-luv101 · 4 years ago

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Summary: Kuro talks to Gear about Mahiru while they fix the roof. (KuroMahi, Songfic)

“Kuro, we’re back with extra nails.” Mahiru called to Kuro who was on the roof. While Kuro and Gear repaired the hole in the roof, Mahiru and Youtarou drove to a nearby town to buy supplies. The safehouse only had the bare minimum and there wasn’t enough supplies for four people. They would only be gone for an hour so he didn’t need to worry about their distance limitation. Mahiru also thought it was a good opportunity for Kuro to speak with an old friend.

He summoned his broom and he floated to the roof. Kuro walked to the edge of the rooftop and he took the bag of nails from him. As Mahiru stepped onto the ledge, Kuro placed his free hand onto the small of his back to keep him balanced. “While we were in town, I bought you ice tea. The black tea is for Gear. Where should I put your drinks? I don’t want them to fall off the roof.”

“Gear and I can drink them right now. We’ve been working on the roof for an hour now and it’s time for a break.” Kuro told him. He heard Gear’s irritated growl behind him and he could already predict what he would do. He dodged the hammer he threw at him. Gear only aimed at the air above his head but Kuro pulled Mahiru into his chest and hugged him so he wouldn’t be hurt.

“You’ve already procrastinated fixing the roof for two hundred years, Ash.” Gear retorted.

“Well, Kuro’s back and I think that’s what you should be focused on. It looks like the hole is mostly covered and you can take a quick break.” Mahiru said in Kuro’s defense. He walked to Gear and handed him a warm cup. Gear looked past the cup to Kuro who continued to hold Mahiru in his arms. Neither of them seemed to notice how casually they held each other. He added, “Youtarou said this is your favourite so drink it while it’s still warm.”

Mahiru slipped out of Kuro’s arms so he could return to the ground. He sat on his broom and said, “Youtarou and I are going to look for ways to contain Kuro’s transformation at night. He has a few books about magic circles and enchanting items. If you two need us, just call our names. We’ll hear you.”

With those words, Mahiru disappeared beneath the rooftop. Kuro was able to hear his voice faintly through the hole in the roof as he moved to sit next to Gear. He stared at the forest in front of them and he thought of the day he left London. He felt guilty that he hadn’t tried to contact his friend to tell him what had happened. After the encounter with his father, he couldn’t face his decision and he isolated himself.

Then, he met Mahiru. His smile chased away the shadows haunting him and he helped him move forward. Kuro was certain that he wouldn’t have the strength to face his siblings or Gear. He hoped that he was strong enough to confront the demon within the rose. He grew to care for him and he didn’t want anything to happen to him.

“Congratulations.” Gear said suddenly. Without context to his words, Kuro didn’t know what he could be referring to. He saw the confusion on his face and he added: “You finally have someone you want to protect. That gives a person clarity in a chaotic situation. I don’t know anyone who needed that more than you. How long have you two been dating?”

“Dating?” Kuro choked on his drink and he had to pat his chest to clear his throat. He rarely felt flustered and he wondered if his face was red. They had been friends for years so Gear could read his expression better than others. “Mahiru and I aren’t dating. What would make you think that? He might not be into someone like me. He likes simple things and I’m far from that.”

“Your past is complicated and Tsubaki makes it worse.” Gear agreed and he saw disappointment cloud Kuro’s red eyes. Even if they weren’t dating, it was clear that Kuro had feelings for Mahiru. He was curious about the person who could win his heart so he poked Kuro for a reaction. “Mahiru seems pretty boring. Aside from fighting vampires and dealing with C3, what do you two do?”

“Don’t call him that. Simple and boring are two different things.” Kuro said and sipped his tea. “He’ll often drag me outside for human events like festivals and watching movies. I thought those things would be troublesome after five hundred years but it was fun with Mahiru. When we went Christmas shopping, he forgot his gloves and I had to share mine with him. I never imagined I could have such simple moments in my life.”

Kuro continued to tell him about the time he spent with Mahiru. From the challenges they overcame together to the quaint days they shared, each memory was special to him. He was surprised by how much he could remember. “After we relaxed in the onsen, we watched a movie in our room and had room service. He fell asleep halfway through and I carried him to his futon.”

He listened to his reminiscing and watched him from the corner of his eyes. Kuro had a faint smile as he told him about Mahiru. Gear said, “I was surprised when he talked back to me and told me to give you a break. I don’t know many people who would face a werewolf. It might be because love makes people do crazy things. It’s possible he likes you back. What’s stopping you from confessing to him?”

“It’s too troublesome to explain.” He heaved a sigh instead of answering his friend. He laid on his back and stared up at the clouds above them. He thought of Mahiru’s soft, brown hair and he wished he could hold him. He didn’t know when he fell in love with him but he filled his mind now. If only he could be direct and straightforward with his feelings like Gear.

He turned his head slightly to face Gear. “Tonight, we’re going to attempt the ritual to reclaim the rose’s power. If something goes wrong, please protect Mahiru.”

“We don’t know what will happen tonight. When I’m in my werewolf form, I feel consumed by my power. Youtarou’s voice gives me clarity. I only need to hear him call my name to regain control of myself. The power within the rose makes you transform in a similar way to me and the full moon.” Gear told him. “Mahiru might have the same effect on you that Youtarou does with my wolf.”

“I feel stronger when I’m with him.” Kuro agreed. “Gear, congrats on finding Youtarou.”

“Thanks.” He nodded and they continued to watch the blue sky together.

“There’s a clearing close to the house and that will be the best place to release the demon. We can create a large barrier there and have Mahiru hide nearby in the bushes. I need to help Youtarou carry the books so take this.” Gear ordered and held out the rose to Mahiru. “Kuro has to fight the demon by himself but you should stay nearby as backup. You’re the only who will be able to stop him.”

“Really? A werewolf is stronger than I am.” Mahiru said, not understanding the deeper meaning beneath Gear’s words. He hoped that the ritual would go well and they wouldn’t be forced to restrain him. Kuro was important to him and he doubted he could bring himself to fight him, no matter the situation. He looked to Kuro and his heart tightened. “Gear, can you give me a moment alone with Kuro? I want to talk to him privately.”

Gear nodded and he walked to Youtarou. He took the stack of books Youtarou carried and then they walked outside together. Kuro started to follow him but Mahiru stopped him with a light touch on his arm. His brown eyes wavered and Kuro assumed that he was uncertain about the ritual. To comfort him, he brushed his bangs from his eyes and said, “I won’t let that demon touch you.”

“I trust you, Kuro. That’s not what I want to say to you. I don’t know what will happen tonight so there’s something I should tell you before the ritual.” Mahiru told him as he walked closer to him. He cupped Kuro’s face and tilted his gaze down so he could look into his red eyes. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I heard your conversation with Gear. He asked if we were dating.”

“What?” He stiffened at his words. Kuro looked towards the ceiling and he realized that Mahiru likely overheard their conversation due to the hole in the roof. “I don’t know where Gear got the idea that we could be dating. I’m sorry if that made you feel awkward or anything.”

Mahiru shook his head and wrapped his arms around Kuro’s neck. He leaned his forehead against his strong chest to hide the blush he had. “The reason I eavesdropped on your talk was because I wanted to know if you liked me… In the same way I like you. You didn’t tell Gear whether you liked me or not. Thinking simply, I should ask you directly.”

He lifted himself onto his toes so he could kiss the corner of Kuro’s lips. After the small kiss, Mahiru leaned back the barest amount so he could confess. “I love you, Kuro. Do you feel the same?”

Hope filled his chest and he held Mahiru against his body. Kuro never thought he would be so happy. “I love you too. After this is over, let’s go home. Together.”

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #servamp gear #neugear hatiwelt #youtarou tsumugi #fanfiction

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werepartofthemasterplan · 4 years ago

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Episode 6: Normal Life.

Yes, I already watched the episode... Not sure what to think. Yes, it's Axel-Pol centred, that's why I don't know what to think. If you think Axel is hot and so on (as Hector seems to think), then you would love it. I'll be posting the summary some time in the evening but it's difficult because I have a lot of things to do in the real world today. Sorry! Ok, let's start.

First edit: Intro.

Pol is at the doctor's and the doctor tells him that he's doing really well (the viral charge has gone down so much) and he encourages him to begin living a "normal life".

Pol asks him what is that supposed to mean since nothing that is happening to him is "normal". "Can I tell people? Can I fuck the person I like? Can I have a boyfriend/girlfriend? Can I tell them this, just like this?".

The doctor tells him that a lot of couples live with HIV and that if his viral charge is this low, he can even have sex without a condom :-O.... Pol is not convince at all, he thinks that people are only going to see him as the AIDS guy.

The doctor tells him that if he wants anything with anyone, he is going to have to tell them. Pol says that for him, that "normal life" is cohabitate with the fear.

Second edit:

Pol arriving home from the doctor and Alfonso asking where he went.

Pol tells him that he went to collect his notes to a friend's house and Alfonso gets mad because he knows he's lying but cannot say anything.

Alfonso asks him once again if he's ok and Pol tells him yes, he is ok and also, he got the scholarship.

Pol leaves to college and Alfonso and Gloria talks about Alfonso confronting Pol when he's ready....

Bolaño's class. She asks if it is correct to keep on listening to Michael Jackson's music after what it was discovered about him molesting children. Most of the class is against it because they think it's unmoral.

They talk about the justice in judging the work of a person through his private life.

And of course, Rai doesn't agree with the rest of the class. He separates the work from the person. They all agree that everything is rotten and nobody is free from having a censurable behaviour. Oti says that her granny is the only one who is really honest. And Rai gets mad and says that she cannot know that even because she could get excited by throwing stones to the rabbits when she was a little girl.

The class is over and Axel is waiting for Pol in the corridor to invite him to go to the Ampurdá to meet his parents. He wants to take Lucky to meet them and he thought that Pol would like to come too... as friends. Axel says "you wouldn't come as my boyfriend because you're not.... right?"... NO COMMENT.

Axel tells him that there are plenty of beds at the house, that he should not worry about that....

Pol tells him that he doesn't know if that would be the normal way to do it and Axel asks him what normal means to him...

Pol hesitates for a second but agrees to go with him.

Third edit:

Rai's home. Alfonso and Vicky bonding.

Minerva's flat. Amy and Arnau are half naked and in bed but they have not fucked because Amy just says that it wouldn't be right to fuck a flatmate. (I really don't understand what is the reason for these two to even appear...).

Meeting with the dean at college and Biel tells Bolaño that Pol is not coming (because he's with Axel in the Ampurdá). Meeting is boring af and I'm not going to describe it.

Pol and Axel get to Axel's parents home. And WHAT A HOUSE... WOW.

Pol meets Axel's mum and grandpa first. When Axel introduces him and Lucky to them, Axel's mum says "Let's see how long this one lasts this time" and the grandpa says "Yeah, she's not talking about the dog, you know that, right?"

Axel goes to see his father and they talk. BLAH BLAH BLAH.

Axel'm mun asks Pol for help to dig out a hole for a tree. She explains him that the thing they have tomorrow is a memory ceremony in the name of her mother, who would turn 90 that day and that they are going to plant a tree to honor her. It was Daniel's idea, Axel's ex, to give her a tree as a present.

Axel calls out for Pol. Pol tells him that his mum has told him about the ceremony and that it was Daniel's idea. And Axel tells him that Danuel was his ex, and asks him if he doesn't have any exboyfriends Pols says NO, HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY EXBOYFRIENDS... (CLARO QUE NO, CHATO....).

Axel tells him that he's really glad he's there and they go for a walk by bike.... (Hector Lozano has seen "Call me by your name" too many times and he believes he's a Guadagnino because the following montage is just the same as when Elio and Oliver ride their bikes to the river.... just identical... in fact, we can call Luca right now, show this to him and he could claim author property rights for this one.... like really....).

Fouth Edit: (OK, this part is really difficult to sum up but I am going to do my best).

Pol and Axel at the beach.

Pol tells Axel that he doesn't understand why he lives in Barcelona if he has this and Axel tells him that he doesn't want to live with his family. Pol tells him that he lives with his dad and Axel answers "Wait a couple of years....".

Axel kisses him.

Pol seems kind of lost and Axel asks him if he's OK. Pol shakes his head no and suddenly Pol gets up and says "It's been a while since I swim in the sea...." (YEAH, WE KNOW HOW LONG, POL DARLING... WE ALL KNOW HOW LONG AND BRUNO DOES TOO....). Axel tells him that the water should be really freezing.

He stars pealing his clothes off near Axel and Pol asks him if he likes his body. Pol takes good care of his body and at first look Axel couldn't tell that he's sick. And he runs to the water, where he screams underwater, and cries and kicks... Underwater Pol montage.

Axel sees this and asks him loudly if he's OK and Pol goes back to him and tells him that he's HIV positive. Pol tells him that he doesn't know why he's telling him. Maybe it's because he likes him and he has the right to know.

Pol start to cry and he says that he doesn't understand anything. He doesn't understand this has happened to him and that Axel sees his body and Pol knows that he's attracted to him because he sees how Axel looks at him and Pol only wishes he didn't have that body. Pol just wants to escape from himself. And even though he takes care of himself, he exercises, he eats well and the doctor tells him that everything's going ok, he has to get used to the infamous "Normal life", in Pol's case means don't tell anyone because if he does tell anyone, then it wouldn't be normal...

Pol says that he is so tired of growing up the hard way. He doesn't remember his mum, he keeps loosing people (WHUUUUUT????? I CHOSE TO BELIEVE THIS IS A REFERENCE TO BRUNO AND NOBODY IS GOING TO BLOW THAT UP, OK???? THANK YOU!) and when he gets the diagnose he though "Fuck Pol, you too?", but it seems he can live with that and if you have someone to fuck, it's better to say it. Pol tells Axel that that is what he has been wanting since the day the went to collect Lucky.

Axel kisses him hard and hugs him and tells him: "Look, greyhounds are blue and melancholic but they learn how to be happy really quickly. Maybe you're like a greyhound somehow". Pol tells him that maybe he's right and he promises that he'll be more discreet with Axel's family and Axel tells him that it's OK as long as he doesn't tell his father he doesn't like classical music.

More kisses and hugs.

(AND WE'RE NOT EVEN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE EPISODE)

Fifth edit:

Rai's home. Vicky and Alfonso bonding.

University: Maria and Silvia cross ways in the hallway and they have a little talk. Seems nice. Silvia asks her if she's ok and Maria tells her that she's better....

University bar: Oti, Biel and Rai are talking. Biel wants Rai to enter the debate thing.

Maria and Laura and Laura's boyfriend keep looking for flats for them to rent. Still no luck.

Alfonso and Gloria at a hospital. A nurse comes to them. She's a friend of Gloria. Gloria leaves so that her friend and Alfonso can talk. Alfonso wants to know if Pol is going to die and Gloria's friend tells him that there are more than 3000 HIV positive patiences in that hospital and all of them are living a "normal life", some of them are more optimistic, some are more pesimistic but none of them have been admitted in the hospital and as far as she knows, Pol is ok.... (don't aks me how she knows it)...

Axel's parents house, at the dinner table. They are talking Mozart and so on and so forth...

Axel's grandpa wants wine.

Axel tells them that Pol studies Philosophy.

Axel's grandpa asks if Daniel is coming the next day and Axel tells him that of course he's not and that he doesn't know anything about Daniel for quite a while now.

Axel's grandpa says that there was a philosopher who predicted his own death. They all think about who this might be and Pol says "Democrito". Axel's grandpa says "that's him, yes!!!".

Axel tells Pol that he has won his grandpa heart.

After dinner, in Axel's room (there were a lot of beds, of course....). Pol asks about Axel's granny and Axel tells him that she died 8 years ago and that his grandpa still doesn't want to bury her ashes.

Pol asks him if he comes to the house often with his hook-ups.

Axel tells him not with hook-ups but that he did come very often with his exboyfriend, the one that is not well, asks Pol. The one with depression, yes, answers Axel. Pol asks him how long they were together and Axel says that he doesn't want to talk about him and kisses Pol hard. Pol breaks the kiss and looks worried and Axel tells Pol that he doesn't want to fuck or pressure him in any way....

And they kiss again, Pol asks him if he doesn't have anything and if he gets tested regularly, Axel tells him that he doesn't have anything and that he gets tested, yes... and one thing leads to another and they start to make out big time. There is a moment when Pol hesitates a little but then he recovers and he takes the lead...

Alfonso and Gloria are in bed and Alfonso says that Pol has told him that he was going to spend the night at a friend's parents house and wonders if he has taken his pills with him.

Alfonso is really taken back and starts saying that young people are supposed to be given all the sex info and STD prevention in the world, that they have access to it. He doesn't get where HIS Pol went to get the HIV. Gloria just hugs him and he starts to cry. It's a really sad scene.

Next morning, they plant the tree. Axel doesn't want to participate in the ceremony.

Sixth edit:

On the way back, Pol asks him if the reason he didn't want to participate in the ceremony was because it was Daniel's idea to plant the tree.

Axel asks him what he wants to know. Pol says that it's normal that he wants to know things since he feels that Axel's family really love Daniel. "Well, I don't", says Axel.

Pol asks him how long they were together - 7 years.

And you were living together? - Yes, we lived together, then he started with the depression and I left him. Do you want to make me feel bad just like my parents?

Axel is an asshole, mind you... He tells Pol that he is treating Pol really tactfully and he has no reason to complain.

Pol tells him that whether Axel thinks he has to be grateful for Axel to accept him as he is...

Axel tells him that not everybody would be so understandable.

Pol gets pissed. Of course. Pol tells him that Axel is complaining because he cannot handle sick people.

Axel tells him that if Pol is the victim now.

Pol tries to explain to him that he is not comfortable with what Axel has told him. "you had a boyfriend, you were together for 7 years, you had your life built and then, he gets sick and you leave him" (BRAVO POL, OLE TUS HUEVOS!).

Axel tells him that Pol hasn't lived with another person as a couple, he doesn't have any idea of how it is, so he cannot talk about it.

Pol is really pissed and tells him that Axel should look for another guy because clearly Pol doesn't suit him at all. Pol feels good with him but Axel should find someone who not only sucks him but also can fuck him. And he shouldn't worry about him because he will fuck someday.

Axel says that ok and that he will leave Pol at college because he surely has homework to do.

Rai's house. Vicky is talking to her posh friends about her vertigos. She tells them that Alfonso took care of her and the posh friends start gossiping about that. Vicky tells them to shut up because Alfonso is a better person than any of them. Of course, Alfonso is listening.

Pol arrives to class... Silvia is talking about Descartes. BLAH BLAH BLAH.

University corridor and Pol meets up with Axel. Pol asks him if he is calmer and Axel tell him fuck you. Pol tells him that he wants to focus on his degree and that's it. Axel tells him that he is going to be his unsolved issue (asignatura pensdiente in Spanish).

Maria is in her office and Octavi comes saying that Laura is waiting outside for Maria. Octavi says that Laura told him that she thinks that Maria is fed up with her because Laura doesn't make things easy with the flat hunting (it's the opposite, of course.... it's Maria who is being a pain...).

Silvia and Octavi blah blah blah. Silvia has asked Octavi to take care of Maria for her....

Maria at her house, going through all Laura's clothes when she was a baby.

Minerva's flat. BLAH BLAH BLAH... Biel and Amy hook up.

Oti and Pol at the library studying. Rai comes and tells them to go to study somewhere else because that place is pathetic. He takes them to the W lounge at the W Hotel, I believe because I was there and it looked familiar. And Pol talks about love, happiness, life...

FIN.

OK, I don't know why but I've got the feeling that Pol is beginning to miss the people that are not in his life anymore. Like you never know what you had until you lose it" kind of feeling.... AND YES, THAT MEANS BRUNO... OF COURSE IT MEANS BRUNO... WHO ELSE?

#merli sapere aude #merli sapere aude season 2 #merli sapere aude spoilers #pol rubio #it's sucks #really sucks #and why not?#BRUNOL #merli: sapere aude

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collegeburnoutsuperstar · 5 years ago

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Social Distancing Book Recs

I’ve been getting tons of book recommendations from friends and family to help get through social distancing/self-quarantine, so I thought I should share some of my favorite books with everybody!

Horror/Apocalyptic: *all books are ADULT*

- The Stand by Stephen King “This is the way the world ends: with a nanosecond of computer error in a Defense Department laboratory and a million casual contacts that form the links in a chain letter of death. And here is the bleak new world of the day after: a world stripped of its institutions and emptied of 99 percent of its people. A world in which a handful of panicky survivors choose sides -- or are chosen” (Goodreads Summary).

- Inferno by Dan Brown “Harvard professor of symbology Robert Langdon awakens in an Italian hospital, disorientated and with no recollection of the past thirty-six hours, including the origin of the macabre object hidden in his belongings. With a relentless female assassin tailing them through Florence, he and his resourceful doctor, Sienna Brooks, are forced to flee. Embarking on a harrowing journey, they must unravel a series of codes, which are the work of a brilliant scientist whose obsession with the end of the world is matched only by his passion for one of the most influential masterpieces ever written, Dante Alighieri’s The Inferno” (Goodreads Summary).

- World War Z by Max Brooks “The Zombie War came unthinkably close to eradicating humanity. Max Brooks, driven by the urgency of preserving the acid-etched first-hand experiences of the survivors from those apocalyptic years, traveled across the United States of America and throughout the world, form decimated cities that once teemed with upwards of thirty million souls to the most remote and inhospitable areas of the planet. He recorded the testimony of men, women, and sometimes children who came face-to-face with the living, or at least the undead, hell of that dreadful time. World War Z is the result. Never before have we had access to a document that so powerfully conveys the depth of fear and horror, and also the ineradicable spirit of resistance, that gripped human society through the plague years” (Goodreads summary).

- It by Stephen King “It’s a small city, a place as hauntingly familiar as your own hometown. Only in Derry the haunting is real... They were seven teenagers when they first stumbled upon the horror. Now they are grown-up men and women who have gone out into the big world to gain success and happiness. But none of them can withstand the force that has drawn them back to Derry to face the nightmare without an end, and the evil without a name” (Goodreads summary).

- The Shining by Stephen King “Jack Torrance’s new job at the Overlook Hotel is the perfect chance for a fresh start. As the off-season caretaker at the atmospheric old hotel, he’ll have plenty of time to spend reconnecting with his family and working on his writing. But as the harsh winter weather sets in, the idyllic locations feels ever more remote... and more sinister. And the only one to notice the strange and terrible forces gathering around the Overlook is Danny Torrance, a uniquely gifted five-year-old” (Goodreads summary).

- House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski “[House of Leaves] focuses on a young family that moves into a small home on Ash Tree Lane where they discover something is terribly wrong: their house is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Of course, neither Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist Will Navidson nor his companion Karen Green was prepared to face the consequences of the impossibility, until the day their two little children wandered off and their voices eerily began to return another story -- of creature darkness, of an ever-growing abyss behind a closet door, and of the unholy growl which soon enough would tear through their walls and consume all their dreams” (Goodreads summary).

Comedy:

- Good Omens by Neil Gaimen and Terry Pratchett “People have been predicting the end of the world almost from its very beginning, so it’s only natural to be skeptical when a new date is set for Judgement Day. But what if, for once, the predictions are right, and the apocalypse really is due to arrive next Saturday, just after tea? You could spend the time left drowning your sorrows, giving away all your possessions in preparation for the rapture, or laughing it off as (hopefully) just another hoax. Or you could just try to do something about it. It’s a predicament that Aziraphale, a somewhat fussy angel, and Crowley, a fast-living demon now finds themselves in. They’ve been living amongst Earth’s mortals since The Beginning and, truth be told, have grown rather fond of the lifestyle and, in all honesty, are not actually looking forward to the coming Apocalypse. And then there’s the small matter that someone appears to have misplaced the Antichrist... “ (Goodreads summary).

- Dad Is Fat by Jim Gaffigan *PG-13* Dad is Fat is a comedic memoir that details Jim Gaffigan’s life growing up in a large Catholic family to his experiences as a husband and father (specifically parenting his five young children while living in a tiny walk-up apartment in New York). I highly recommend the audiobook (which is narrated by Jim Gaffigan), my family and I always listen to it during road trips. It never stops being funny.

- Bored of the Rings: A Parody of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings by The Harvard Lampoon *ADULT* “A quest, a war, a ring that would be grounds for calling any wedding off, a king without a kingdom, and a little, furry ‘hero’ named Frito, ready -- or maybe just forced by the wizard of Goodgulf-- to undertake the one mission which can save Lower Middle Earth from enslavement by the evil Sorhed… Luscious Elfmaidens, a roller-skating dragon, ugly plants that can soul-kiss the unwary to death-- these are just some of the ingredients in the wildest, wackiest, most irreverent excursion into fantasy realms that anyone has ever dared to undertake” (Goodreads summary).

Middle-Grade:

- Percy Jackson and the Olympians series by Rick Riordan (book 1: The Lightning Thief) “Percy Jackson is a good kid, but he can’t seem to focus on his schoolwork or control his temper. And lately, being away at boarding school is only getting worse - Percy could have sworn his pre-algebra teacher turned into a monster and tried to kill him. When Percy’s mom finds out, she knows it’s time that he knew the truth about where he came from, and that he go to the one place he’ll be safe. She sends Percy to Camp Half Blood, a summer camp for demigods. Soon a mystery unfolds and together with his friends-- one a satyr and the other the demigod daughter of Athena-- Percy sets out on a quest across the United States to reach the gates of the Underworld and prevent a catastrophic war between the gods” (Goodreads summary).

- The Heroes of Olympus series by Rick Riordan (book 1: The Lost Hero) “Jason has a problem. He doesn’t remember anything before waking up in a bus full of kids on a field trip. Apparently he has a girlfriend named Piper, and a best friend named Leo. They’re all students at a boarding school for ‘bad kids.’ What id Jason do to end up here? And where is here, exactly? Piper has a secret. Her father has been missing for three days, ever since she had that terrifying nightmare about his being in trouble. Piper doesn’t understand her dream, or why her boyfriend suddenly doesn’t recognize her. When a freak storm hits during the school trip, unleashing strange creatures and whisking her, Jason, and Leo away to someplace called Camp Half-Blood, she has a feeling she’s going to find out. Leo has a way with tools. When he sees his cabin at Camp Half-Blood, filled with power tools and machine parts, he feels right at home. But there’s weird stuff, too-- like the curse everyone keeps talking about, and some camper who’s gone missing. Weirdest of all, his bunkmates insist that each of them--including Leo-- is related to a god. Does this have anything to do with Jason’s amnesia, or the fact that Leo keeps seeing ghosts?” (Goodreads summary)

- The Children of the Red King series by Jenny Nimmo (book 1: Midnight for Charlie Bone) “Charlie Bone has a special gift-- he can hear people in photographs talking! The fabulous powers of the Red King were passed down through his descendants, after turning up quite unexpectedly, in someone who had no idea where they came from. This is what happened to Charlie Bone, and to some of the children he met behind the grim, gray walls of Bloor’s Academy. His scheming aunts decide to send him to Bloor’s Academy, a school for geniuses where he uses his grifts to discover the truth despite all the dangers that lie ahead” (Goodreads summary).

- Things Not Seen by Andrew Clements “Bobby Phillips is an average fifteen-year-old boy. Until the morning he wakes up and can’t see himself in the mirror. Not blind, not dreaming. Bobby is just plain invisible... There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to Bobby’s new conditions; even his dad the physicist can’t figure it out. For Bobby that means no school, no friends, no life. He’s a missing person” (Goodreads summary).

Science Fiction:

- Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick *Adult* “It was January 2021, and Rick Deckard had a license to kill. Somewhere among the hordes of humans out there, lurked several rogue androids. Deckard’s assignment-- find them and then... ‘retire’ them. Trouble was, the androids all looked exactly like humans, and they didn’t want to be found!” (Goodreads summary).

- Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton * Suitable for Young Adults* “An astonishing technique for recovering and cloning dinosaur DNA has been discovered. Now humankind’s most thrilling fantasies have come true. Creatures extinct for eons roam Jurassic Park with their awesome presence and profound mystery, and all the world can visit them-- for a price. Until something goes wrong...” (Goodreads summary).

Fantasy:

- The Magicians trilogy by Lev Grossman *ADULT* (book 1: The Magicians) “Quentin Coldwater is brilliant but miserable. A senior in high school, he’s still secretly preoccupied with a series of fantasy novels he read as a child, set in a magical land called Fillory. Imagine his surprise when he finds himself unexpectedly admitted to a very secret, very exclusive college of magic in upstate New York, where he receives a thorough and rigorous education in the craft of modern sorcery. He also discovers all the other things people learn in college: friendship, love, sex, booze, and boredom. Something is missing, though. Magic doesn’t bring Quentin the happiness and adventure he dreamed it would. After graduation he and his friends make a stunning discovery: Fillory is real. But the land of Quentin’s fantasies turns out to be much darker and more dangerous than he could have imagined. His childhood dream becomes a nightmare with a shocking truth at its heart” (Goodreads summary).

- The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater *YA* (book 1: The Raven Boys) “What do you know about Welsh kings?” This incredibly atmospheric story centers on a seemingly random group of teens as they uncover the mysterious and magical secrets of their small Virginia town.

- A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab *Suitable for Young Adults* “Kell is one of the last Antari-- magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black. Kell was raised in Arnes-- Red London-- and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see. Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they’ll never see. After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure. Now perilous magic is afoot, and treacher lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they’ll first need to stay alive” (Goodreads summary).

- The Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien *Suitable for middle-grade through adult* “In ancient times the Rings of Power were crafted by the Elven-smiths, and Sauron, the Dark Lord. forged the One Ring, filling it with his own power so that he could rule all others. But the One Ring was taken form him, and though he sought it throughout Middle-earth, it remained lost to him. After many ages it fell by chance into the hands of the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. When Bilbo reached his eleventy-first birthday he disappeared, bequeathing to his young cousin Frodo the Ruling Ring and a perilous quest: to journey across Middle-earth, deep into the shadow of the Dark Lord, and destroy the Ring by casting it into the Cracks of Doom” (Goodreads summary).

- The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss *Adult* “Told in Kvothe’s own voice, this is the tale of the magically gifted young man who grows to be the most notorious wizard his world has ever seen. The intimate narrative of his childhood in a troupe of traveling players, his years spent as a near-feral orphan in a crime-ridden city, his daringly brazen yet successful bit to enter a legendary school of magic, and his life as a fugitive, and his life as a fugitive after the murder of a king form a gripping coming-of-age story” (Goodreads summary).

- The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch *Adult* “An orphan’s life is harsh-- and often short-- in the mysterious island city of Camorr. But youge Locke Lamora dodges death and slavery, becoming a thief under the tutelage of a gifted con artist. As leader of the band of light-fingered brothers known as the Gentleman Bastards, Loke is soon infamous, fooling even the underworld’s most feared ruler. But in the shadows lurks someone still more ambitious and deadly. Faced with a bloody coup that threatens to destroy everyone and everything that holds meaning in his mercenary life, Locke vows to beat the enemy at his own brutal game-- or die trying” (Goodreads summary).

Fiction:

- The Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich *ADULT mystery-thrillers/romance* (book 1: One for the Money) “You’ve lost your job as a department store lingerie buyer, your car’s been repossessed, and most of your furniture and small appliances have been sold off to pay last month’s rent. Now the rent is due again. And you live in New Jersey. What do you do? If you’re Stephanie Plum, you become a bounty hunter. But not just a nickel-and-dime bounty hunter; you go after the big money. That means a cop gone bad. And not just any cop. She goes after Joe Morelli, a disgraced former vice cop who is also the man who took Stephanie’s virginity at age 16 and the wrote details on a bathroom wall. With pride and rent money on the line, Plum plunges headlong into her first case, one that pits her against ruthless adversaries - people who’d rather kill than lose” (Goodreads summary).

- The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown *Adult* “While in Paris, Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon is awakened by a phone call in the dead of the night. The elderly curator of the Louvre has been murdered inside the museum, his body covered in baffling symbols. As Langdon and gifted French cryptologist Sophie Neveu sort through the bizarre riddles, they are stunned to discover a trail of clues hidden in the works of Leonardo da Vinci-- clues visible for all to see and yet ingeniously disguised by the painter. Even more startling, the late curator was involved in the Priory of Sion-- a secret society whose members included Sir Isaac Newton, Victory Hugo, and Da Vici-- and he guarded a breathtaking historical secret. Unless Landon and Neveu can decipher the labyrinthine puzzle-- while avoiding the faceless adversary who shadows their every move-- the explosive, ancient truth will be lost forever” (Goodreads summary).

- Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle *Adult* Sherlock Holmes stories are always fun when stuck at home.

- 11/22/63 by Stephen King *Adult* “Life can turn on a dime-- or stumble into the extraordinary, as it does for Jake Epping, a high school English teacher in Lisbon Falls, Maine. While grading essays by his GED students, Jake reads a gruesome, enthralling piece penned by janitor Harry Dunning: fifty years ago, Harry somehow survived his father’s sledgehammer slaughter of his entire family, Jake is blown away... but an even more bizarre secret comes to light when Jake’s friend Al, owner of the local diner, enlists Jake to take over the mission that has become his obsession-- to prevent the Kennedy assassination. How? By stepping through a portal in the diner’s storeroom, and into the ear of Ike and Elvis, or big American cars, sock hops, and cigarette smoke... Finding himself in warmhearted Jodie, Texas, Jake begins a new life. But all turns in the road lead to a troubled loner named Lee Harvey Oswald. The course of history is about to be rewritten... and become heart-stoppingly suspenseful” (Goodreads summary).

Non-Fiction:

- The Men Who Stare at Goats by Jon Ronson *Adult* “In 1979 a secret unit was established by the most gifted minds within the U.S. Army. Defying all known accepted military practice-- and indeed, the laws of physics-- they believed that a soldier could adopt a cloak of invisibility, pass cleanly through walls, and, perhaps most chillingly, kill goats just by staring at them. Entrusted with defending America from all known adversaries, they were the First Earth Battalion. And they really weren’t joking. What’s more, they’re back and fighting the War on Terror. With firsthand access to the leading players in the story, Ronson traces the evolution of these bizarre activities over the past three decades and shows how they are alive today within the U.S. Department of Homeland Security and in postwar Iraq. Why are they blasting Iraqi prisoners of war with the theme tune to Barney the Purple Dinosaur? Why have 100 debleated goats been secretly placed inside the Special Forces Command Center at Fort Bragg, North Carolina? How was the U.S. military associated with the mysterious mass suicide of a strange cult form San Diego? The Men Who Stare at Goats answers these and many more questions” (Goodreads summary).

- Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert *Adult* (I recommend listening to the audiobook, which is narrated by Elizabeth Gilbert) “To recover from [an early midlife crisis, divorce, and depression], Gilbert took a radical step. In order to give herself the time and space to find out who she really was and what she really wanted, she got rid of her belongings, quit her job, and undertook a yearlong journey around the world-- all alone. Eat, Pray, Love is the absorbing chronicle of that year. Her aim was to visit three places where she could examine one aspect of her own nature set against the backdrop of a culture that has traditionally done that one thing very well. In Rome, she studied the art of pleasure, learning to speak Italian and gaining the twenty-three happiest pounds of her life. India was for the art of devotion, and with the help of a native guru and a surprisingly wise cowboy from Texas, she embarked on four uninterrupted months of spiritual exploration. In Bali, she studied the art of balance between worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence. She became the pupil of an elderly medicine man and also fell in love the best way-- unexpectedly” (Goodreads summary).

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