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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

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Can’t Get Rid Of Me (Part 2 to Can’t Lose You)

Pairings: Zuko x Reader

Summary: Part 2 to Can’t Lose You. Y/N has finally found her long lost love but now it’s their responsibility to ensure the end of the Hundred Years War and to bring a new era of peace.

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 5600

A/N: There are definitely parts of this that are word-for-word from the show and I do not take any creative credit for those. I strictly take credit for what is my writing. But like... I’m actually kind of proud of this particular two-part series thing I happened to write. It was an idea I had for a while and, while I never planned on writing a second part, I’m glad you guys encouraged me to because I actually like how it turned out (and if you’re a writer, you understand how hard it can be to feel like your work is any good). Thank you all for the support <3

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Joining the avatar’s group was easier than you’d expected but from seeing the hodge-podge group of people, you figured that they had a habit of picking people up as they went along. For the few days you were at Zuko’s old vacation home on Ember Island before leaving, you’d trained with Zuko and Aang, working with the two boys to develop your firebending as much as possible before the battle. That was before Aang disappeared at least and you all went off searching for him, stumbling upon the Order of the White Lotus instead.

“Are you alright?” You asked Zuko, coming to kneel beside him as he sat outside of Iroh’s tent.

He shook his head, “My uncle hates me. I know it. He loved and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?” Though you didn’t see much of who he’d become first hand, Zuko had embarrassingly confessed his mistakes over the years to you, especially those concerning the incident with his uncle.

“If there is anyone who understands what you’ve gone through and why you would do what you did, it’s your uncle. I don’t think he could ever hate you Zuko.” You remembered the way Iroh used to treat Zuko, especially after Lu Ten was killed, and you knew in your soul that there was nothing Zuko could do to make Iroh truly hate him.

Zuko glanced over at you with wide eyes, like he was on the brink of tears from just remembering the disappointment in his uncle’s eyes, “But you didn’t see the way he looked at me when I made my decision to rejoin my father.”

“People are allowed to make mistakes, Zuko. You made your choice then but look at the choices you’re making now. Even if he was disappointed months ago, I think he would be so proud to see what you’re doing now. He loves you more than anything.” Your hand reached out to stroke down his bicep comfortingly.

He took a deep breath before pressing himself up to stand, “I sure hope you’re right.”

You spent the night in a tent with Suki, allowing Zuko to have his time to fix things with his uncle. If he needed to talk to you, he knew where to find you. But he didn’t come until morning so you knew it must have gone really well or really poorly.

The next morning, you found yourself sitting alongside the rest of the group, a bowl of porridge in your hands, the only food you’d eaten in two days and it tasted delicious. Iroh was sitting amongst you all, listening to Zuko as he tried to convince his uncle to come with you all to defeat Ozai, “You can beat him and we’ll be there to help!” Zuko explained passionately.

“Even if I did defeat Ozai, and I don’t know that I could, it would be the wrong way to end a war. History will see it as just more senseless violence, a brother killing a brother to grab power. The only way for this to end peacefully is for the Avatar to defeat the Firelord.” Iroh countered and it was clear from the way he spoke that his decision on the matter was final. He would not kill his brother.

This conversation felt wrong to you. Even though Ozai was a terrible man, and you’d seen years of his horrors first hand, it still felt wrong for some reason to be sitting with his son and brother while they conversed about who should get to kill him. But if it was difficult for you to hear, you couldn’t imagine how difficult of a decision it was for them, but mostly for Zuko, which made you so proud of him. He had come so far from that scared little boy, desperate for his father’s love and approval. Zuko had traveled to the ends of the Earth for his father, literally, but was now finding the strength to put everything behind him for the greater good of humanity and, for once, himself.

Iroh had a very valid point in wanting to avoid direct conflict with his brother. From an outsider’s perspective, the battle would have looked simply like a murder for political gain. You could tell from the look on Zuko’s face that he knew as well. “And then… then would you come and take your rightful place on the throne?” He asked, nearly begged.

His uncle looked away, “No, someone new must take the throne- an idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor. It has to be you, Prince Zuko.”

Everyone inaudibly gasped at the suggestion. Everyone had a feeling that Zuko would have a large role to play in rebuilding the Fire Nation but nobody had guessed that it would be as Firelord. Zuko looked the most shaken of all, “Unquestionable honor?” He questioned his uncles decision, every regret he had plastered in his eyes, “But I’ve made so many mistakes.”

“Yes, you have,” Iroh began bluntly, “You have suffered and struggled but you have always followed your own path. You restored your own honor and only you can restore the honor of the Fire Nation.”

Zuko’s wide eyes flicked from Iroh to you, trying to accept the reality of what this delegation meant. “I agree with your uncle, Zuko. I don’t think the Fire Nation could be rebuilt better by anyone else.” You encouraged, nodding your head sincerely. What you wanted to do was hold his hand and try to give him whatever power, courage, and confidence you had to offer but you resisted, only offering the small but very heartfelt gesture.

“I’ll try, Uncle.”

A plan was soon devised as to how you would all plan an attack. Iroh and the rest of the White Lotus would reclaim Ba Sing Se. You, Zuko, and Katara would return to the palace to fight Azula and reclaim the throne as soon as Ozai fell. Suki, Toph, and Sokka would all take down the air ships.

Before long, you were about to climb up onto Appa’s saddle beside Katara and Zuko, where he already sat with the reins grasped firmly in his hands. Just as you reached to begin your ascent up the large creature you’d quickly fallen in love with, Iroh’s hand gripped your shoulder, “Y/N.”

You stopped and turned back towards the man you’d come to see as family yourself, “Yes?”

“Azula is strong. Please, keep my nephew safe. Don’t let him get himself killed.” It pained you to hear Iroh say those words, knowing that they held so much more fear than they sounded. The truth was, Iroh didn’t think he could take losing Zuko like he lost Lu Ten.

You swallowed hard, honestly scared to make such a big promise because you knew that truthfully, anything could happen, and the possibility of any of you not returning was very large. But looking into Iroh’s desperate amber eyes, you couldn’t say anything other than, “I will. You stay safe out there, Uncle.” He smiled a little at the endearing term, something that he hadn’t heard you call him in many years, but loved nonetheless because it made him feel like he had children to love.

“May we meet again, Y/N.” He pulled you into a tight hug, bringing your body close to his. An overwhelming surge of emotion coursed through you as you told yourself that this could very well be the last time you ever saw anyone.

“May we meet again.” Your jaw clenched in a desperate attempt to keep your composure and not dwell on the what-if’s, no matter how valid they were.

The ride over wasn’t too unbearably long but it was spent mostly in silence, everyone too lost in contemplation about the upcoming events to find the energy to say much. You’d never done anything this large in your life. You’d been a servant for the first fifteen years of your life and then a runaway turned bead maker for the last few. The closest thing to combat you’d experienced was training with Zuko and the one time you almost lost control with Azula. None of that could prepare you for the agonizing silence before the storm.

“Hey, are you okay?” Katara asked you.

“Hm?” You perked up, shaking yourself out of your thoughts, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous, I s’pose.”

Your chin rested on your knees as you stared down at the ground hundreds of feet below. The distance down didn’t bother you as much as the feeling of impending doom. “I have to believe that we’ll win,” Katara began softly, “And I know I haven’t known you long but, from what I’ve seen, you’re a very strong bender.”

There it was, you realized. The reason you were so anxious. “I’ve never actually used it against anyone but Zuko, and even that was only for training purposes. I have never actually had to fight anyone, let alone Azula. I just… I don’t want to let everyone down.”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself. We’re all in this together, win or lose.” She reassured. Your eyes flickered up to look at Zuko, whose back was turned to you and Katara while he flew Appa. Katara noticed the movement and was about to move to take over flying Appa so Zuko could talk with you but just as she went to go, a bright light streaked overhead.

All three of you craned your necks to watch the infamous comet streak across the sky, casting an orange glow over everything. “Sozin’s comet…” You breathed out, the celestial object actually much more beautiful than you’d ever imagine but so much more daunting as well.

Zuko looked back to see your eyes trained on the comet and he felt like he was falling in love with you all over again. Your eyes sparkled with determination and courage in the light of the comet, your hair blew wildly around your face in the wind. You looked like the strongest most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on and he couldn’t wait to kick his sister’s ass and restore the Fire Nation with you.

When the palace was in sight, Azula’s coronation was already underway. You smirked a little at the twinge of satisfaction that nobody had actually attended the coronation aside from the few people that were required to be there. Clearly, Azula was far from the preferred Fire Lord.

“We have to stop this now!” Zuko called back to you and Katara just before he landed Appa right in the middle of the courtyard.

You weren’t sure what exactly was being said when you landed but judging by the scowl on Azula’s face, she was unhappy about it. Before Appa could even touch the ground, Zuko was jumping down onto the ground, “Sorry, but you’re not going to become Firelord today. I am.”

He stood there solidly, unyielding. You and Katara too jumped down to stand beside him. Azula began to laugh hysterically, “You’re hilarious!”

“And you’re going down.” Katara threatened.

You stood to the other side of Zuko, staring down the girl who had been the cause of your torment for over a decade. When you locked eyes with her, she scoffed, “And what? You’re going to beat me with some Water Tribe peasant and a servant? You really are pathetic, Zuzu.”

Gosh, how you were so ready to just destroy her. But none of you moved, waiting for Zuko’s call. In the end, this really was his fight.

When Azula noticed that there was no reaction to her insult, an evil smirk spread across her face, “Wait. You want to be Firelord? Fine, let’s settle this,” She suggested, appearing more composed than she had since you’d arrived, which was almost scarier than seeing her look psychotic, “Just you and me, brother - the fight that was always meant to be. Agni Kai!”

No, this was bad.

“You’re on.” Zuko accepted the challenge, much to your chagrin.

You shot a look at Zuko, wondering why on Earth he’d be falling into her trap like this, “She’s trying to separate us!” You hissed at him, “She knows she can’t take us all so she’s testing you.”

He didn’t look at you, though. He just stared straight ahead, locking eyes with his sister who stared hard and sadistically at him. “I know, but I can take her this time.” His eyes narrowed and Azula’s lip turned upwards in a sick smile.

“Even you admitted to your uncle that you’d need help defeating her!” Katara insisted, desperately trying to talk him out of the Agni Kai. Even though she wasn’t Fire Nation, she knew how serious an Agni Kai was to your culture and that it wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

Zuko looked as if he was analyzing his younger sister, “There’s something off about her. I can’t explain it, but she’s slipping. And this way, no one else has to get hurt.” He turned to you and you could almost see the fear in his eyes. Not fear for his own life but for yours and Katara’s.

You wanted to stop him, wanted to talk some sense into your boyfriend. All you could think about was that promise you made to Iroh. Please, keep my nephew safe. Don’t let him get himself killed. Allowing him to fight alone felt like a direct breach of that promise that you’d had every intention of keeping but something in you told you to let him fight her. “Don’t get hurt.” You gave into his plan, hoping, praying, wishing on everything that you were making the right decision.

Within a few minutes, you and Katara were standing off to the side of the large outdoor space, watching as Zuko breathed deep, centering himself before the duel. You found yourself almost shaking, the memories of what happened at the last Agni Kai you’d attended flooding your memory. It was as if your vision was flashing from thirteen year old Zuko, begging his father for forgiveness, to now, where he was kneeling away from his sister. Only this time, you knew he wouldn’t be granted the same mercy his father had given him. At least then he got away with his life. With Azula, you knew he wouldn’t be so lucky if he fell short.

Katara was tense herself but could practically feel the air stiffen around you. She glanced over to see your eyes almost glazed over, stuck in a memory she’d never see. The rise and fall of your chest had also stopped with your breathing. “He’s going to be alright.” Katara reassured you, gently grabbing your hand, “He has to be.”

You looked down at where your hands were joined and squeezed, eyes returning to hers with a small half-hearted smile, just enough to show that you at least partially believed her. With a deep, calming breath, you swallowed the lump in your throat and raised your head high.

Both siblings came to stand up, shedding the cloaks that were slung over their shoulders. “I’m sorry it has to end this way, brother.” Azula apologized insincerely.

“No, you’re not.” Zuko’s eyes narrowed, already in a starting stance.

And just like that, waves of red and blue painted the sky. Roaring flames shot from both Zuko and Azula’s hands, almost deafeningly so. Zuko’s bending was more passionate and stronger than you’d ever seen it before. Azula, on the other hand, seemed less refined and sloppier than her highness had ever allowed herself to be in the past but that did not mean that her bending was any less effective. There was so much rage and power behind both of their strikes.

You watched Zuko’s moves intensely, mentally trying to tell him what to do, what move might be best, even though you knew that he was a far more well-trained bender than you were. But that was when you noticed that his forms were different than what he’d taught you all those years ago. His stance was wider and he looked more locked in place, like he was a boulder that refused to be moved, when he literally split a powerful flame that Azula sent his way in half. It was something you’d never seen any fire bender do before. In fact, he sort of looked like Toph…

In a small gap between Azula’s onslaught of attack, Zuko took the offense, his arms moving smoothly and gracefully, expelling a stream of fire that almost could have resembled the way water benders shoot water. Your eyes widened. These were not traditional fire bending moves. Could he be using earth and water bending techniques to fire bend?

As the flames settled in a small pause, you and Katara noticed that the buildings of the palace were all aflame, slowly burning to the ground in an orange glow. It was a short lived breath of silence though because Zuko interrupted it with a sudden blast of flames at Azula that nearly knocked her off her feet. She managed to catch herself with a jet of blue flames that projected her off the ground and towards her brother. It went on like this, shot after shot in the most heated, equally matched Agni Kai you’d ever seen.

Suddenly, Zuko dropped to his hands and swung his legs around his body, sending whips of flames at his sister. “Isn’t that airbending?” You asked Katara, though your eyes never left the scene before you. The flame landed and sent Azula flying into the ground with a thud, rolling at least fifteen feet before she came to a stop.

“I didn’t know you could use other bending techniques for a different element.” Katara too was entranced by Zuko’s conglomerated, unpredictable moves. It would have been beautiful to see fire used in such a way if it weren’t for the fact that you were all in the midst of a life-or-death situation.

Azula slowly stood up, her eyes crazed beneath her choppy bangs.

“No lightning?” Zuko taunted, “What? Afraid I’ll redirect it?”

Dammit, Zuko, you cursed mentally, This is not the time to show off.

Azula stood, pressing her weight off her knees, “Oh, I’ll show you lightning!” With that, she began her windup. With two fingers, she directed lightning in electric blue streams around her body. Zuko prepared for the strike, stance strong, hands ready to catch it.

What nobody expected though, was the bright blue bolt being sent at you. It was almost too late by the time you noticed it happening. In a split second, Zuko watched in horror as the lightning blew right past him towards you, your E/C eyes wide with shock. “No!” He screamed, running to jump in front but it was too late.

The lightning bolt streaked past before it could hit him, coming right for you.

The world almost seemed to stop for a moment while at the same time, your entire life flashed by in a second. Your parents playing with you as a child, you and Zuko feeding the turtle ducks just over those gates, Azula burning you, moving in with the kind old lady on Ember Island, and finding Zuko again. But then memories that you didn’t yet make began to reel through your mind in a flash. You and Zuko were together, hand in hand, before an altar. Was that a wedding? Things flashed so quickly you couldn’t see the details. Then came one of the two of you in a room with a bald man with an arrow on his head. He could only be Aang but he was too old and beside him sat Zuko with longer hair; he looked at least ten years older. You seemed to be part of a serious conversation with them. Then, finally, one of you with a swaddled baby sleeping in your arms and Zuko beside you.

Something told you that this was not your time.

Just before the bolt could hit you, you clenched your eyes shut and looked away, sticking out two fingers directly at the lethal electricity coming right at you. With a crack, it came into contact with your digits and coursed through your arm. You brought your arm down to your stomach, or as close to it as you could manage in the heat of the moment, and just held the power there. You had no idea what you were doing. You’d never redirected lightning in your life. Hell, you’d never even seen it done. But in that series of flashbacks, a memory of Iroh telling you and Zuko a story as children about a time he had to redirect lightning during a raid of a city. Zuko had excitedly begged him to show the two of you how he did it and, while he didn’t actually redirect lightning before your eyes, he showed you both the movement for it.

In the few seconds you held the lightning within you, you felt powerful and exhilarated. Your hair blew in the storm in and around your body. You had no idea what it was like to feel so strong but you also had never felt so volatile, like the smallest mistake, the slighted breath, could cause a catastrophe.

Just as Iroh had shown you all those years ago, you brought the fingers of your opposite hand to your stomach and shot out the energy at the ground, tiles shattering where it finally struck.

“Y/N!” Zuko cried out, running over to your body as it crumbled to the ground. You panted hard, trying to catch yourself on your hands and knees but your elbows buckled when you did and you fell face first onto the stone tiles. “Y/N?! Y/N, are you okay?!” He yelled, trying to roll your body over to cradle it in his lap but before he could, Azula sent another blast right next to her brother, purposefully not hitting him. Zuko flinched, shielding your body with his from the shrapnel.

She laughed maniacally, body swinging wildly, “Oh, Zuzu! Looks like your precious little girlfriend picked up a few tricks! Color me impressed.”

Azula assaulted the two of you with another barrage of attacks. Zuko again went to use his body to shield yours but Katara jumped in the way, shooting a powerful stream of water into Azula’s arm to move the lightning. Katara took over the battle for the time being while Zuko held you tight.

“Y/N?” He asked again, eyes wide with worry, almost tearing up, “Please, say something. I can’t lose you!” Those same desperate words that seemed to have haunted your relationship came back around.

He held your face, stroking your hair out of the way. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you struggled to open your eyes. “I’m-I’m alright. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You insisted with a weak laugh before flinching, pushing your arms behind you to push yourself back up.

“When did you learn to do that?” He asked in shock, helping you sit up.

A loud yell came from Katara as she sent attack after attack of water at Azula. You finally managed to open your eyes enough to see Katara successfully holding off Azula. “Go, help her. I’m fine.” You told Zuko, flinching as you allowed yourself to be helped to an upright position. He looked at you with hesitation in his eyes. You grabbed his collar and pulled him close to you, “Zuko, I’m serious. There are bigger problems.”

With a reluctant nod, he stood up and shot fire at her even more intensely than before, now fueled by rage at her dishonorable attack on you. You were aware of what was going on but for a few seconds you felt disconnected from it. You were still shocked that you managed to redirect the lightning, though not perfectly, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t have collapsed. Your body felt like it was buzzing but no longer with power, more so an emptiness where power once was. And beyond that, a dull burning ache ran through your arms and through your stomach, along the path the lightning ran through.

But, beyond that, you felt relatively okay and, for right now, that had to be enough. With some effort, you managed to push yourself to your feet, strength quickly coming back to your muscles as the temporary that shock rendered them useless for a few minutes faded away.

When you stood, you saw how destroyed everything was. Buildings burned, stone tiles were blown up all over, leaving holes in the ground, and now there were waves of ice. Azula appeared to be struggling against both Katara and Zuko but she also seemed not to mind, still plastering that insane smile on her face.

The three of them had made their way under the canopy off to the side of the main open area. Azula was on the roof, stalking Zuko and Katara who stood underneath. Everyone was silent and you could see Katara and Zuko silently devising a plan but little did they know, Azula jumped down, gripping the canopy to launch herself into a flip. Before she could land or fire, though, you shot a stream of flames at her back, knocking her forward and rolling onto her face.

Her eyes were aflame with rage when she stood up, “It’s about time you learned your place, little servant girl. I spared your life several times but you won’t get that kindness again.”

“I’m not afraid of you anymore, Azula.” You moved to take a strong stance, arms out and ready to deflect any attack she sent your way.

Her amber eyes narrowed beneath her dark jagged hair, “You should be.” With a loud scream, she sent another strike of lightning at you, sure that you couldn’t handle another one since you barely managed to survive the first.

But how wrong she was.

Already predicting an attack of some kind, it was easy to change your hand position and you caught the lightning with your fingertips, brought it down through your stomach, and breathed in for a second - a second that seemed to last forever. It was all coursing through your body again: the power, the volatility, the anger, the fear.

Nobody else could see exactly what was happening. A storm of blue currents blew your hair around your face, covering it from view, and the lightning itself distorted the view of what was happening. Zuko and Katara watched in terror, worried that maybe you weren’t able to catch it and it hit you.

Little did they all know, you had caught it and avoided your heart successfully and now, all there was to do was redirect it. Taking a deep breath, you honed all of your attention on the lightning in your control, forcing as much energy into it as you could, before shooting your fingertips directly at Azula, the lightning coming at her with more force than she’d shot at you.

She tried to move to dodge it but before she could, Katara sent a slick of ice onto the ground just below her feet, sending her slipping instead of jumping like she’d intended. The lightning struck the princess with a loud crack and she fell onto the ground, lying on the cold white ice she’d slipped on.

This time, you felt… alright. You didn’t hurt anywhere or collapse. Instead, you ran towards Zuko and Katara who knelt over Azula’s motionless body. “Is she… D-did I kill her?” You asked, honestly unsure what exactly you wanted the answer to be. For years, you’d told yourself that you’d kill her one day if you ever got the chance but now that took that chance, you weren’t sure if you wanted somebody’s life on your conscience, even if it really might have been for the betterment of the world that she was gone.

Zuko reached down to feel for a pulse and shook his head, “No, she’s alive, but just barely.”

Another wave of confliction coursed through you but, surprisingly, a big portion of it was relief. “What should we do with her then?” You knelt down beside Katara and finally inspected Azula. She was barely conscious, her eyes kept rolling back in her head, but that maniacal smile was finally blasted off her face. Her hair was a mess, just barely held back in the tie anymore. A large portion of her pants were missing, burned away just at the thigh to reveal a massive welting red branch-like wound on her pale skin. That must have been why she was able to survive the hit.

“She needs help,” Zuko sighed, almost sounding like he was at war with himself in this decision, “Something’s telling me this is more than her just being a terrible person. She’ll be moved to the asylum offshore to get the help she needs. And to keep her from hurting anyone else.” His voice got tense at those last words.

Katara moved water from the ground and used it to heal Azula’s leg as much as she could. “Just for now, I was thinking we could keep her in ice? I don’t know what else to do.” She rubbed her legs awkwardly.

Glancing to your right, you saw chains hanging on a pillar and moved to grab them. “Here,” You said, beginning to chain her hands and feet together, her limp limbs moving easily, “Just so when we melt the ice, we still have some leverage.”

“Good idea.” Zuko stood up, watching as you looped the last bit of chain securely in a knot. When it was all good and secure, Zuko gave Katara a small nod and she gracefully created an encasing of ice around Azula.

This whole situation felt strange. The accumulation of a hundred years of war was climaxing right at this moment and you, Zuko, and Katara had all just successfully completed your part of that victory. What felt odd though was standing over Azula, the girl who had tortured you for years, and discussing her fate, which literally was in your hands.

“We did it.” Zuko finally sighed out, breaking the silence, “We actually did it.”

“Now we just have to hope Aang beats Ozai.” Katara rubbed her arms, nervous that the ultimate outcome of all of this wasn’t entirely in just your hands.

* Two days later *

Zuko stood in the hallway of the palace, the walls open and overlooking the surrounding city. He leaned against the half-wall, breathing in the fresh air deeply. His clothes that he’d been wearing for much longer than he’d like to admit while on exile had now been exchanged for the robes of a Firelord. “You clean up nice.” You giggled, coming into the wide hallway.

He turned around to see you walking towards him looking more radiant than ever. Your clothes that you had been wearing when you battled Azula had been quite badly destroyed, ripped and stained with soot and debris. Now, you wore a long dark deep red tunic dress that tied with a slightly lighter band around your waist. It had gold along the inner seams and leading up to the high, traditional collar that was around your neck. The bottom had an ornate design sewn in with amber threads at the bottom.

“Wow…” Zuko breathed out, “Y-You too.” He managed to stammer.

Heat rose in your face, “Thank you.” You finished closing the gap between the two of you, coming wrap your arms around his waist, “Are you okay?”

Zuko bit his lip before half-nodding, half-shaking his head, “I just can’t believe this is happening. Ever since I was little, I was sure my father would find a way to pass along the throne to Azula. I never thought I’d actually be Firelord. But now that I’m about to become Firelord, I guess I’m just scared of making mistakes.”

Your hand came up to his bicep as you pulled him in closer, “Hey, you are going to be the best Firelord in at least a hundred years. You just managed to end a century-long war and I know you have amazing dreams for rebuilding the world.”

“I didn’t end the war alone.” He tried to refute but you just smiled warmly.

“And you won’t have to do all the work to rebuild the nation alone either. We are all here to help you - me, Aang, Sokka, Katara, and Toph.” You reached up to touch his cheek gently and he leaned into your soft palm, savoring the touch. It was the first time he’d ever allowed anyone to touch his scar but with you, he felt safe and secure.

Zuko’s eyes slid closed for just a moment and he brought his hand up to cover yours, holding your hand against his face before pulling it away, intertwining his fingers with yours, “Have I ever told you how much I love you? How much I’ve always loved you?”

A sweet chuckle left your lips like music, “I think you’ve mentioned it a few times. Have I ever told you how much I love you? And how amazing you are? How amazing you will be?”

The two of you stood like that for a while, just holding each other and staring at each other, beyond grateful that the universe allowed you to find each other again. Words could not express the pride and love you felt for this man, despite all of his flaws and mistakes. Zuko only wished he could put into words how grateful he was for your love and support, how much he loved you and wanted to protect you (not that you needed it).

“Nephew, it is time for your coronation.” Iroh chimed in gently, peeking at the two of you from around the corner.

You looked back and gave him an acknowledging smile. “Thank you, Uncle.” Zuko smiled politely at Iroh, who was waiting at the door to escort you to the front of the crowd.

You knew you had to watch the coronation from the ground with the rest of the Gaang but you didn’t mind. You only hoped that Zuko could feel the support from you and the rest of the group radiating from the crowd.

“You are going to be amazing, Firelord.” You touched his face one last time, pulling him down for a gentle kiss.

He smiled against your lips. “I can’t wait to build the new world with you.”

__________________________

Taglist:

(Sorry if this is messed up, I suck at taglists)

@oddlypointlessescapes

@eridanuswave

@egm09

#can't lose you #zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla fics #atla fanfics #atla imagines #fire nation #can't get rid of me

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soundsof71 · 4 years ago

Note

So, considering you are a passionate fan of music released in 1971, I feel justifiably obligated to ask you what you think of Buffy Sainte-Marie's 'She Used to Wanna Be a Ballerina' album. 😂 (Also, it would make me beyond happy if you could post more about Buffy, my friend! Thank you! ❣)

Buffy Sainte-Marie + Crazy Horse - what’s not to love? LOL I confess that it was the Crazy Horse connection that caught my attention first. I had a general idea who Buffy was, had seen her on TV a few times, but I was a big Crazy Horse fan. News that they were her backing band for this album was easily enough for me to scoop it up.

They weren’t doing anything much with Neil Young in 1971 (other than this album, on which Neil also appeared!), but they had released a tasty solo album in February 71, produced by Jack Nitzsche (who also produced this, and would later marry Buffy), and featuring Ry Cooder (also featured here, although did not marry Buffy).

(btw, the first place that Buffy, Ry, and Jack worked together was on the Nic Roeg film Performance, starring Mick Jagger. People obviously remember Mick in that, but musically, Buffy was the best part!)

She Used To Wanna... also features Jesse Ed Davis, a Native American guitarist and singer who was a frequent “usual suspect” at these sort of “sure, invite everyone!” jam albums of the era, and played a prominent role at 1971′s biggest concert (at least in the US), The Concert for Bangladesh on August 1.

(I know you know RUMBLE: The Indians Who Rocked The World, the documentary about indigenous music’s influence on rock and roll, which has chapters on both Buffy and Jesse Ed. I just watched it again recently, and love it! A reminder of Buffy’s pivotal role in classic rock history. Not mentioned in the film: she relentlessly championed the work of her fellow Canadians Joni Mitchell and Leonard Cohen, helping them get their first record deals.)

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I haven’t listened to She Used To Wanna Be A Ballerina for a while, so I definitely need to do that, along with posting more pictures of Buffy. (I can’t believe I’ve only posted two!)

But I’ll tell you what still stands out to me about that record years later. “Smack Water Jack” is an underrated track from Carole King’s Tapestry that got a ton of airplay at the time. Quincy Jones did an instrumental cover as the title track for his terrific 1971 album, too, but it has somehow faded to obscurity since then. Buffy takes a playful trifle, and turns it into a powerful fable of men of color who explode into violence in response to the violence visited upon them, and self-satisfaction of whites in authority who answer their demands for better living conditions by killing them on the spot.

No need for a trial when you can murder them in the streets, right? “You can't talk to a man when he don't wanna understand / And he don't wanna understand” hits different when Buffy sings it, and in 2020 for that matter.

It’s also just a terrific performance whose combination of soul and rock and roll and driving piano in a sort of Old West-sounding context would have made this sound right at home on a record like Elton John’s Tumbleweed Connection or something by The Band. I’m limited to five video embeds per post so I can’t embed it here, so I'm linking instead: anyone who hasn’t heard this definitely needs to.

Her cover of Neil’s CSNY track “Helpless” has things I like even better than Neil’s original, including Merry Clayton standing in for CSN. Buffy’s version is more muscular (thanks again to Crazy Horse), and taps even more deeply into the isolation of the song that the star power of CSNY somewhat obscured.

Buffy’s version also made a brief but memorable appearance in the 2018 film Hotel Artemis, starring Jodie Foster. A weird little movie that I loved maybe more than it deserved LOL but I recommend nonetheless:

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I know that this album gets attention because of the unusual number of covers, including one by Leonard Cohen, and a cover of a cover that Leonard had made famous on top of that, called "Song of the French Partisan” (hers is the far superior version imo, a song of French resistance to Nazi occupation from the perspective of a woman hiding a resister), but there are a couple of standout originals too.

I love the title of this record, and the title track is a delightful little stomper that playfully cautions against equating the intentions of grown women with the childhood fantasies they’ve grown out of. More Merry Clayton goodness here on backing vocals too.

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“Soldier Blue” is a powerful song first written for the 1970 film of the same name, billed at the time as “The most savage film in history” -- and maybe it was. It used the 1864 Sand Creek Massacre as a metaphor for Vietnam, and it's still shockingly brutal. It was the third-highest grossing movie in the UK in 1971, though, and the single became a top-10 hit for Buffy there.

It didn’t do as well here, either the song or the movie. Perhaps not shockingly in retrospect, Soldier Blue was pulled from American theaters after a few days, the Vietnam metaphor not at all lost on the Nixon administration.

As horrifying as it was, this is about when I was reading Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee (first published in 1970), and Soldier Blue resonated with me in a whole lot of ways. Here’s the song in the opening credits of the movie.

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I was also really struck by “Moratorium”, which is the story of “Universal Soldier” (from her 1963 debut, but a bigger hit for Donovan in 1965), coming from the opposite direction. In the earlier song, she blamed war on the soldiers who think that fighting is honorable, but here, she has empathizes with the young men, boys really in many cases, who’ve been lied to by their countries, their parents, and even their friends. They’re not vainglorious. They’ve been duped by people they trusted.

(I don't think she takes enough into account how many men sign up to fight because they want to embrace and celebrate their worst, most violent impulses, which was of course an undercurrent of “Universal Soldier”, but I appreciate her empathy here. More than one thing is true at a time.)

Buffy goes even farther, though, calling on soldiers to support and validate demands for peace as explicitly supporting them, summed up in the unforgettable cry, "Fuck the war and bring our brothers home!"

1971 was the peak of antiwar demonstrations in the US, with the biggest crowds ever seen in this country until the 2017 Women’s March. The May 1971 demonstrations pretty much shut down Washington, culminating with Vietnam Veterans Against The War throwing back their medals on the steps of the US Capitol, incredibly powerful stuff to see on TV in my formative years, and Buffy was right there in it. Anti-war songs were a cottage industry for sure, but nobody was writing with the nuance and empathy that Buffy was.

Here’s a 1972 performance of “Moratorium”, Buffy and a piano, and more emotionally bare than that:

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There’s obviously lots more to say about Buffy, far outside the realm of protest music that was actually just a small part of her musical palette -- her pioneering experiments with electronic music, her educational philanthropy starting in her 20s, Sesame Street, you name it. Her commercial peak was still in front of her, and while I can’t say that this is my favorite of her records, it does have some of my favorite songs of hers, and 1971 and She Used to Wanna Be A Ballerina is definitely where I went from knowing who Buffy Sainte-Marie was to being a fan.

I'll also note as I do now and again that while this blog started as an offshoot of a book on 1971 that I’d started but abandoned, I mostly listen to music released now. That’s always been my policy, including in 1971. When 1972 rolled up, I was mostly listening to music from 1972, music from ‘80 in ‘80, ‘91 in ‘91, 2018 in 2018, etc., to name just a few other favorites. (Plus The Beatles, okay? LOL I still listen to The Beatles every day. No apologies.) Honestly? It took me until 2011, in my fifties, when a whole bunch of 40th anniversary editions of 1971 albums got released all at once that made me think, “Wait a minute, this was maybe THE pivotal year in classic rock history!”

So yeah, the historian in me dug into 1971, but even though I happened to be alive and enthralled by music in that year, what I’m doing here has nothing to do with nostalgia, or any idea that that was the *best* year in music, even if for the narrow slice of music that is classic rock, yeah, it absolutely is. For soul/R&B too, and for the explosion of women artists outside the even narrower confines of pop as well. This is not subject to debate. No year like it, before or since. It's just that classic rock is a such a narrow slice, and I like my slices wide. LOL Which is also why my blog has less and less 1971 content as I go along.

While my general policy is that my favorite year for music is THIS year, this particular year hasn’t left me as much energy as usual for listening to music. Some of it is These Trying Times™, some of it is my bipolarity and schizophrenia getting the better of me in waves, as is the way with these, uhm, things. (Keep taking those meds, kids!) I listen to music and post about the people making it as a creative act, not a passive or reflexive one, and I just haven’t felt as creative as usual.

(This is also has everything to do with why so many Asks have been piling up unanswered. I apologize if you’re one of the many kind and indulgent souls who’s gotten in touch, but I swear I’m gonna get to ‘em all!)

To get an idea of what I’m ACTUALLY passionate about right now, my “to be edited later” running list of 2020 favorites randomly added to a playlist as I encounter them, to be properly curated later, is at Spotify, cleverly entitled “2020″ -- 94% women, which is about right. LOL

But since I do in fact listen to old stuff (by which I mean 2019 LOL), I made a list of mostly 2020 bangers from women rockers with some tasty treats from 2019 that I haven’t been able to let go of just yet, inspired by a post I saw at tumblr saying that punk music by women is just plain better (also beyond debate), called “Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam”. I’ll be posting an essay with a YouTube playlist soon, because god forbid that I only talk briefly about anything LOL and most of these women need to be heard AND seen.

Like Buffy Sainte-Marie, whom you'll both see and hear more often on my blog soon. Thanks for the reminder! Always a pleasure to hear from you and be challenged by you. :-)

Peace, Tim

#ask #musicrunsthroughmysoul #buffy saint marie #women in rock #1971 #she used to wanna be a ballerina #1971 album #youtube #1971 single #crazy horse #essay #me

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years ago

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Coffee, crushes and complications

This was prompted by a lovely anon! I hope you like it, I sure did!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: pre-Reed900 [Prequel] [Part2] [Part3] [Part4]

‘Reed? In my office!‘ Gavin couldn’t think of what he had done wrong, but considering how many times he had heard this sentence before, the anxiety settled in immediately. Still, he stood up, downed the last sip of coffee and walked over to his boss’ office. ‘Yes? What’s wrong?’, he asked, sitting down in the chair in front of the table. ‘What’s wrong?’ The man in front of him laughed heartily and Gavin nervously laughed, too. God, had he phcked up that badly with his last job? ‘Reed, nothing’s wrong, quite the opposite! How you handled this rich asshole was… I would say impressive, but that doesn’t do the thing justice. God, how they could ever throw you out of the police force, I can’t understand. You didn’t let him off the hook until he answered your questions and gave him nothing to work with! That is investigative journalism at it’s finest and damnit, Reed, no one else deserves it more!’ ‘What?’, Gavin asked relieved, but also proud. ‘A raise! I would promote you, but I need you where you are now. I hope you understand that?’ ‘Hey, sure. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than in the field.’ ‘Alright. Then I’ll just sign the papers and send them to you. Really, Reed, you out-did yourself with this one!’

When Gavin came home that day, the first thing he did was jump and cheer in triumph, then pick up his unsuspecting cat and hurl her around. ‘Oh, Bready, today is the day!’ He kissed her on her shoulder, before she finally decided she had enough with an angry growl. Immediately Gavin let her fall to the ground and hurried to the kitchen, grabbing the phone along the way. The number he searched for was only two clicks away and he let it ring while pouring out some kibble for Bready and heating up yesterday’s leftovers. ‘Hey, Eli!’, he excitedly called into the phone. ‘How are you? You won’t believe what happened today!’ He let his brother guess a few times until the microwave pinged and he let himself and his food fall on the couch. ‘Urgh, Eli you are boring and have too much creativity at your hands. No, I got a raise! Honestly, getting fired might have been the best thing to ever happen to me. I get raises for being a nosy asshole! My new boss phcking loves me and my colleagues actually seem to like me. Oh, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. We need to celebrate that! When are you free?’

He took a breath and began eating while listening to his brother complain about new work politics. Gavin actually felt with him for once. His view on androids had changed quite a bit. He got to know quite a few androids during his work and the day one of his colleagues had come in in tears saying they would have to resign because of some anti-android assholes, Gavin had changed. It had only been a few months since he started his new life, but for the first time he felt like he had his life under control. And like he enjoyed it. Being fired from the only job he thought to be ever good in had been hard. But after being stuck in that low for weeks he had realised that if he wanted to be happy, he had to work for it. And he did. And it had become better. Seeking professional help, reconciling with his brother and finally finding a new job he actually liked had been the end of a long journey that was far from over. But he was happy. And he was confident it would go up only from now on.

Their conversation dropped into casual talk, a few jokes and teasing. It was already late when Gavin decided to end it for today. He was tired and he wanted to at least watch another episode of this new show he enjoyed so much. ‘Okay, so when do you actually have time? Tomorrow? Nah, can’t do, I’m meeting Tina at this new coffee shop. Maybe on the weekend? Yes? Oh, that would be awesome. Okay, bye! Love you too!’

He smiled as he wanted to stand up to bring the phone back, but Bready had already made herself at home in his lap, so he just laid it to the side and switched on the TV.

‘Hey Tina!’, Gavin greeted the woman already standing in line. She turned around and her face lit up. Shortly after, Gavin was encased in strong arms and had to chuckle. ‘Hey, hey, let me down, alright?’ ‘God, I haven’t seen you in ages!’ ‘You saw me last month’, Gavin reminded her. ‘I see you dipshit every week on TV! That’s not the same. I miss you.’ ‘Wait you watch it?’ ‘Of course I watch it!’, Tina said and punched his shoulder. ‘What do you think of me? Also, it’s funny seeing you be a dick to people that obviously hide one or two bodies under a rug somewhere.’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Well, whatever floats your boat.’ ‘It’s good to see you like it’, Tina then said seriously. ‘I worried about you after you left.’ ‘I know’, Gavin groaned. ‘But I’m fine, okay? Really, I feel better than ever. Now shut your mouth for a while, I have to think what I want to order for a moment…’

They got their coffee and tea as well as two slices of cake soon enough and sat down in a corner of the room. ‘So, how’s work on your end?’, Gavin asked. ‘Hmm, nothing interesting at the moment. We had a suspected serial killer last week, but it turned out the cases weren’t connected after all and thankfully nothing more than the two murders happened before we got them. Otherwise… Nah, nothing interesting you want to talk about.’ So only stuff regarding the new guy. Gavin had said upfront he didn’t want to know anything about the person that had replaced him. It wouldn’t be any use after all. Tina thankfully respected his decision.

‘I did get to know someone’, she then smirked as silence threatened to stretch. ‘A beautiful, funny android lady. She also likes cats!’ ‘Oh that’s cool, tell me more!’, Gavin demanded and smiled, listening to Tina ramble on, cake and tea completely forgotten. Gavin had been determined to listen intently to her, but his attention was drawn from her as someone entered the coffee shop. Someone very familiar. ‘You got to be kidding me’, he hissed, and Tina caught on to him, turning around. There at the counter stood Hank and Connor, looking at the board. Wait. Was that another Connor? ‘Hey, T, who’s the other Connor?’, he whispered. ‘Can’t tell you without breaking a promise’, she admitted, ducking her head. ‘No phcking way a damn Connor replaced me!’

Maybe he had been louder than expected, maybe Connor just had picked up his name, but the RK800 turned around to him, eyes going wide and tapping Hank on the shoulder pointing over. Hank looked in his direction and apparently wanted to bolt immediately, but the friendly barista behind the counter had already placed their drinks on it. In that moment, the other Connor following them had spotted him too. The next thing he did was march over with large steps.

‘Oh hell no, I’m not doing this! I-‘ ‘Hello. My name is Richard. I’m sorry to have replaced you.’ ‘Oh, get phcked!’ Gavin was not having it. He had wanted to drink his coffee and talk to his best friend. He had no interest in talking to this machine. ‘I have waited very long for this moment, my colleagues having tried their best to make this meeting impossible. So, no, I won’t “get phcked”. Not before I you didn’t accept my apology.’ ‘Yeah, whatever. It’s fine. I was an asshole. Deserved getting fired. Now shoo!’ ‘I still don’t deserve getting a job when a human needs them to survive. It wasn’t fair. I heard you… did not fare well after being fired.’ Gavin took a deep breath, before standing up, the sound of the chair scratching on the ground like a precursor of a fight. ‘Listen here, Richard’, he said, pointing his finger at his chest. ‘My personal history doesn’t concern you in the slightest, okay? It’s true, I wasn’t stable in my old job. I was easily angered, I overworked myself on a regular basis without even realising it in the end. I had no friends. I am depressed. My life was one giant, gaping shithole. When I was fired it was for a good reason, but it send me spiralling even deeper down. But you know what? One day I hit rock bottom and knew it couldn’t get any worse than this, might as well try to make it better. And I worked hard for it. I worked my ass off trying to rebuild bridges I’ve burned and seek help. Get over my own walls and live. Be happy. Find a job. And you know what, you goddamn tin-can? I did it. I am a different man and I am happy. So don’t-‘ He took another breath to steady himself. ‘Don’t you dare giving me pity. I am no sorry broken soul you can comfort so you feel better! So you have completed your good deed a day! I am fine. I am better than fine. So thanks, but no thanks. Don’t need it. Phck off.’

That actually worked. The android blinked at him, obviously processing, before apologising and heading over to where Connor and Hank had sat down. Gavin got back on his seat, too and took a large gulp of his coffee. As he sat the mug down, he stared into a grinning face. ‘What?’ ‘So aggressive’, Tina laughed. ‘Dude, the guy just wanted to be nice.’ ‘Oh, did he?’, Gavin grumbled and tried to get an inconspicuous look at the android. Of course, he had chosen the same moment Richard had looked over at him, so he quickly turned back around. ‘Yes’, Tina chuckled. ‘You don’t know how annoying he can be. Replacing you being unfair is the one topic he can’t shut up about.’ ‘Perfect’, Gavin sighed, but couldn’t keep his thoughts in check. Had this android really tried to advocate for someone he didn’t even know? ‘Yeah, always said how after going through your open cases and notes, he couldn’t believe someone fired you. He thinks you are some kind of genius I think.’ ‘Oh, wow, an android has a work-crush on me’, Gavin over-exaggerated and rolled his eyes. ‘Hey, you wouldn’t be that far from the truth there’, Tina shrugged. ‘”Gavin Reed would not have” is like every second sentence of his. It’s cute actually. And ever since you put him in his place just now, he is staring at you, that fancy mood-light turning yellow.’ ‘It’s what-‘ Gavin turned around, cursing when he stared in his eyes again: ‘Shit! What’s his problem? Anyways, you wanted to tell me more about Steph. Please. I beg you. Ramble about your soon to be girlfriend, I want to think about anything but this android.’

Richard on the other hand knew exactly what his problem was. He had exactly 335 software instabilities and errors to keep track of while he couldn’t keep his eyes off this human. He had known the man to be remarkable. But after that reaction? Oh, he definitely had to get to know him better. So, long after the human had left the shop and even after he had driven home, Richard was still planning how to see the man again. Maybe Tina had been right. Maybe he truly had a crush.

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #Gavin Reed #Tina Chen #RK900 #Okay but honestly investigative journalist!Gavin would be something I would love to read more about #but I'd guess AO3 doesn't have anything on that #let's see #Also soft!Nines hell yes

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quillarchive · 4 years ago

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Durin’s Day: Boxing Day Edition??

Here is my fic for Durin’s Day! It was inspired by the amazing @ofahattersmind, who was 100% more patient than I deserve with my writing issues this month.

See the lovely art here!

Happy Durin’s Day ah....delayed!

----

Fili is five the first time it happens.

It begins with a sense of warmth and contentment that almost makes sense - he’s by the fire with his parents, and happy enough - but the warmth is stifling and the contentment brief. But what follows - a sense of searing brightness, fear, indignation, is so clearly foreign that he bursts into tears, burying his face in his father’s chest and shaking with the power of it.

He tries to explain, but he’s only a child, five years old and precocious but with no point of reference for what’s just happened to him. It passes in minutes, and his sobs give way to little gasps for breaths and the occasional hiccup as his father rubs his back and kisses his hair and worries over him.

His mother has her suspicions, but keeps them to herself.

Keep reading or Read on Ao3!

----

For Kili, there is no “first time.” From the day he’s born, he seems oddly mercurial, his mood shifting suddenly from time to time. He’s a cheerful, loving child, outgoing and friendly nearly to a fault (“We don’t talk to strangers,” he recites after his mother, but once someone says hello, they’re not a stranger anymore!). But there are times when he goes quiet and thoughtful, watching the world instead of forcing himself on it. He likes those times, he says. He feels peaceful. Like he’s not alone.

“That’s our Kili,” his mother says fondly, watching him go from spinning in hyperactive circles to curling up happily on the couch, watching the crackling fire.

----

Kili hears words first. Perhaps it should frighten him, but it doesn’t. It feels like his quiet times, and the voice in his head isn’t saying anything scary. It’s a little boy voice, like his, and it’s studiously practicing multiplication tables. Kili’s years from learning them, though when the day comes he’ll already know them and won’t quite be able to explain how.

In the stories about soul bonds, the first communication is usually dramatic and meaningful, the beginning of something otherworldly.

For Kili, it makes his nines tables a sinch five years later.

----

Fili’s parents die when he’s twelve. His uncle takes him in, serious Thorin with his Durin-blue eyes and limited understanding of how children work. He is the one who tells Fili about soulbonds, how rare they are, how their minds meet across the entire world. He suspects Fili has one.

“And if you do,” he says, as gently as he knows how, “they’ll be feeling all the pain you’re feeling, and might be very scared by it.”

Maybe it’s a dirty trick, using a boy’s empathy for others to dry his tears and toughen up, but it appears to work. Fili stops crying so much, starts getting out of bed and living life.

But what Kili feels, far away, isn’t the facade but the real thing.

His parents worry and fuss and arrange for therapy as he cries himself to sleep, night after night.

-----

Fili is rather secretive by nature. He doesn’t want to bother anyone into worrying about him, and by the time he’s fourteen, he certainly knows they’d worry if they knew he talks to himself in his head all the time. The fact that the voice is different from his own only makes it more disturbing.

I hate living with Thorin he’ll sulk, because Thorin is trying but he isn’t Fili’s parents. And his own mind answers Yeah he seems like a and a stuttering pause before dick that makes Fili laugh.

And then he’ll find himself defending Thorin, who isn’t so bad, and the voice makes up a silly song about Thorin’s tendency to talk like it’s 1854 until Fili is sprawled in bed grinning to himself over how clever the voice in his head is, and why can’t he be that clever in real life?

----

Kili is an open book, and he forgets not to just talk back to the voice in his head. It’s cute when he’s a little boy with his invisible friend, but the older he gets the more concerned the adults in his life get.

He doesn’t know about the quiet meetings among counselors, teachers, and his parents. He doesn’t really understand the new doctor who tries to convince him the voice isn’t real.

He doesn’t like the summer he has to leave home and go stay in a hospital for two weeks during his vacation. He’s furious, and lonely, and everyone is telling him to lie about the friend in his mind, but he’s not a good liar by nature.

I’ll know the truth his brain-friend says. We’ll know. Just tell them you don’t and then tell me you do. It’ll make them happy.

Kili is reluctant, but he does as he’s told.

He still slips up sometimes,and he sees the worry in his parents’ eyes and laughs it off. He’s a class clown, right? He can get rid of these things.

Only his friend knows he hates it, hates the lies, curls up in his covers and sniffles some nights, feeling like a bad person.

For a while, his friend promises to go away, and leave him alone. But that is so much worse, because it’s quiet in his head and he’s all alone and. “Is this what people want me feel?” he asks the dark, arms wrapped around a well-worn blush manatee he’s too old for as well (keeps it under the bed so his parents won’t take it away, as his friend suggested). “It’s awful.”

And he tells his friend just how awful it is, until he comes back.

---

It’s sensible enough to name his inner voice Kili, Fili figures. As good as anything else. It is just an aspect of himself. A..creative one. Who tells stories about a life different from him. Who lives out some of Fili’s fears (is he not quite sane?? Is his inner voice too much?? Don’t writers and such have this?? It’s fine, it’s fine). Who is warm and funny and optimistic in a way Fili isn’t, but wants to be.

Just a way of thinking things through. It’s fine if he gives it a name.

He hopes.

----

His friend’s name is Fili, and Kili loves how they match. It’s like destiny in his favorite tv show! They’re meant to be the best of friends! The show is all about a legend about soulmates being bound from birth, and talking to each other, and finding each other and--

---

Fili visits the library, and researches, and wonders.

---

It happens on a lovely fall day in Fili’s home town. Fili is working on his post graduate degree in business administration - not the most interesting, but it’ll help out his uncle’s business, and that’s a guaranteed job that will pay enough that he can hone his own hobbies and interests on his off time. He’s still sensible, but that doesn’t mean he can’t turn some of that practicality to funding his personal interest in writing and travel.

He’s also working at the business’s central office, actual pay instead of an internship, so he’s stayed close to home. He’s saving money for a trip down south, for warm weather and sprawling beaches that remind him of stories he’s heard. Or. Made up. Via Kili.

Fili tosses hair back over his shoulder, adjusts his coat, and walks into his favorite park. The trees here were selected to look as colorful as possible in autumn, and he loves it. Best time of year, hands down.

-----

Unlike Fili, Kili traveled for university. He’s on the archery and lacrosse teams, with actual scholarships, and he’s studying English, which is mostly so he can go on into a proper specialty in myths and folktales. He secretly believes he is a folk tale, despite the counseling and medications to convince him otherwise. He loves the city, filled with carefully maintained parks and currently a chaos of fall colors. It’s too hot back home for anything like this-

He sees someone out of the corner of his eye, and turns his head with practiced nonchalance for a better look. Kili is a man who appreciates the human form. Oh ho, he thinks, he’s hot.

And he is, all long golden hair and neat beard and fur lined leather jacket. He’s shorter than Kili, but more solid. He looks delicious, in the best way.

Stop creeping people out, says Fili in his head, and Kili laughs.

The man stops, frowning a little.”Odd,” he says aloud in a soft tenor voice that makes Kili’s heart thump.

He gives his head a little shake before looking around. Blue eyes- so blue Kili can make them out from a fair distance - flicker in Kili’s direction. He doesn’t seem to have a bit of Kili’s secret shyness. He smiles, slow and inviting.

Never mind, I’ve found a pretty one, too, Fili says in Kili’s mind.

Kili nearly chokes on his own spit.

The blond man turns and walks closer, more than a hint of swagger in his steps.

“Hey,” he says smoothly.

-----

Kili feels his jaw drop. His heart is racing. He can hear it in his ears. He bungee jumped once, Fili refusing to have anything to do with it. It felt like this, like ziplines and roller coasters that flip you upside down.

He clicks his jaw shut.

“Ah...hey,” he says back, intelligently.

---

Fili feels a flash of concern, and steps closer. “You okay?” He puts his hands up. “Promise I’m not a serial killer after tourists. I’m honestly just flirting.”

---

“I’m not a tourist!” It’s not what Kili means to say, because he knows, in his bones, who this guy is. He wonders why he never really thought about what Fili must look like. He’d have thought taller, but everything else…

Yum.

“I’ve been here a year!”

----

“Oh, pardon.” Fili grins and bows like an old-fashioned gentleman. “Practically a local, then. Does that mean you’re familiar with the Ri Family Teashop?”

Fili is forward, but not usually this forward. But somehow, he wants to know this person.

Or already knows him.

Something.

----

Kili starts to grin. “Are you asking me to tea?” he asks, because oh, good, Fili knows him too.

“Hmm. I don’t know. My mother said never to have tea with strangers.” Fili holds a hand. “Fili Durin, local peacekeeper and not an axe murderer, and you are?”

----

The cutie is staring at him, and the stare is starting to look singularly unimpressed. “You know who I am, Fili.”

“Ah, afraid not,” Fili answers, but there’s a tug in his belly like he’s lying to his uncle Thorin about why he was out so late as a teenager. “But I very much hope to.”

The definitely a nine sighs and puts his hands on his hips. “I honestly thought you were smarter than this. But you can’t be completely perfect, I guess.” But he’s smiling, fit to battle the sun, and Fili can’t even work up a sense fo indignation. “It’s me, Fili. It’s Kili.”

-----

Fili will deny it until they are old and grey, and Kili will just keep telling the truth anyway.

Fili’s eyes roll back in his head, and he stumbles, and Kili grabs Fili in his strong arms like the hero he is. It’s not fair to say Fili passes out, maybe fades a bit would be more accurate.

Either way, he regrets it forever because it makes him the damsel who wakens (blinks and sees better, because he wasn’t unconscious or anything that dramatic, correct?) in the arms of a stranger who is no stranger at all. And dammit, Kili even kisses him awake.

(It’s soft and chaste and sweet and Kili, a press of lips just like his voice, beloved and real and everything Fili ever wanted to be real.)

“Hi,” Kili says again, grinning down at him. “Welcome back.”

Fili will argue later that he didn’t go anywhere and he would have been fine and etc. etc, but for now, he reaches up from his awkward arching slouch in Kili’s arms and brushes hair from those playful hazel eyes, and tugs him down for their second kiss.

----

Nice!, they think, and the kiss turns into laughter.

#fiki #fili/kili #durinsday2020 #ofahattersmind #gatheringfiki #quill writes

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slashingdisneypasta · 5 years ago

Note

Feeling kinda dumb asking this tbh. Not sure if you even watched TVD, but in case you did, you know how Bonnie uses Expression Magic which is considered extreamly dark and powerful form of magic (I mean, she literally destroyed hell!) do you mind writing Freddy x victim!reader oneshot where he mets a witch who also practices Expression and is extreamly powerfull? He tries to kill her at first obviously

Omg, this one started out so light hearted but oh my god.

Don't feel dumb!! Its a good ask!! I do watch TVD, and I hope you like this ^^

~~~

I wake up the same way I have for the past 3 weeks. With messy hair, slashes through my favourite pyjama shirt and a finger in my hand- well, it isn’t always a finger. Sometimes its an ear, a portion of his ugly sweater, his hat, once even his eyeball. You get the picture though. Unimpressed, I watch the finger turn to gunky, dirty dust. Then promptly get up and tiredly get out the vacuum cleaner to clean up the mess.

Once I’m done, I put the vacuum back in its cupboard down the hall, which at this point I could totally do just from muscle memory and no other senses due to how often this month I’ve ripped something of Freddy’s back out into the real world in my attempt to take him out and kill him off the clean way.

But, I take a deep breath and let it out, exhausted and resigned, as I pull on pants and search through my closet for a shirt to wear out today. I guess I’m going to have to do it the hard way.

Finally, I discard the ruined shirt and wrench on a clean, yellow t-shirt and leave my house.

___TIME SKIP___

“Hey, Bernard,” I beam towards the grassy haired barista. The café’s basically empty, apart from a group of teenagers watching Netflix and Disney plus on their laptops and phone sin the far corner, so I think we’re fine to talk. He looks up from the mug he was drying out, sees my expression and promptly scoffs. Immediately he starts down the bar, past the glass case with all the sweets inside including a delicious jelly slice with lavender for safety that I get when I come here for breakfast, rounds it, and comes all the way to stand very close to me. He holds up his pointer finger between us sternly, almost mad and I focus instead on his hair rather then his face. It really is grassy- not because he’s been playing footy which he likely was before he came to work and not just because its green. Its messy, and multiple shades of different, environmental green. Representing his element.

“Don’t you dare.”

I sigh, and roll my eyes as I sit down in a bar stool, successfully putting space between us as he doesn’t move. “Its kind of a dire situation.”

“A demon?” He doesn’t look at all like it would change his mind on the subject of my using magic if it were a demon. Which it is.

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that draws strength from attention, lets move on.” Again, I roll my eyes. Not at Bernard though, this time its Freddy. Yes, he totally is that kind of demon. Not even just because he needs people to believe he exists to work. He’s just an attention whore.

Bernard crosses his arms and rolls his shoulders back, more than expressing his parents’ shared fire element. And, also, his cranky streak. “You will not use magic.”

“I’ve tried doing it the easy way. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about your neighbours, and the rest of the known universe if you fuck up. Actually, scratch that. Unknown universe, too.”

“I’m not asking you for permission anyway. Just- come on, gimmie the book.” I hold out my hand, looking around for where he could possibly be hiding it. Cupboards? Behind the cupboards? Has he digitised it? He just continues to glower, and its so forceful that I lower my hand and pout. He’s always been the scary cousin in our family.

“Oh, you so are asking me for permission. You don’t know where the book is!” He sneers, and I deadpan deeply at his immaturity.

“Look, Ber, we’re grown adults. Grown! Ass! Adults! I can make my own decisions, now- where is the book?”

“No!”

“Gimmie!”

“I’m older than you, and I say no!”

“Berrrrrrrr- Oh hi Boyd.” I pause in glaring at my Bernard to look at his brother, Boyd walk by from the upstairs apartment, clipping the vizor attachment to his glasses as he’s going out. He looks boredly at me smiling at him and keeps going to the door with an old-fashioned bell fixed to the top.

“You’re here for the grimoire?” He asks, opening the door and turning over his shoulder, and I nod sweetly- he’s sure to be more helpful! “Yeah, Bernard lost it. Hid it so well even he cant find it anymore. Now, I have a date.” He leaves the, now very tense and cold café with a curt, “Later.”

Slowly… I turn to Bernard. He is now avoiding eyecontact. He misplaced… our families… century old… grimoire??! “Find. It.”

Having a change of heart, he heads behind the counter again with a lowered head. “Oof, I’m on it.”

It must take hours, before I give up looking alongside him and sit down to take a rest. The teenagers have gone by now, and Bernard turned the ‘Open’ sign on the front window around to say ‘Closed’. I don’t know how it happened, but at some point, I rest my head on the bench and the exhaustion from not getting full rest for weeks catches up to me, and I fall asleep.

“Back so soon?”

I jump. “Gah!” Turning around to where the voice came from and I see Freddy- clearly, not in a creative mood because otherwise he wouldn’t have appeared so quick. “Why are you here?!”

“This is my domain, sweetheart.” Freddy explains, something I already knew and he knows I already know and I groan.

“It’s the middle of the day! Can’t I have this one moment to sleep in peace??” A wide smile spreads across his face, and I slouch over. Course not. Oh god, I am so tired. Another yell escapes me though, exhaustion making me incredibly jumpy, when suddenly he appears beside me. Physical form and everything, I can feel the fuzz of his sweater on my arm. “Don’t touch me.” I flash him a glare, not daring him. Definitely not daring him- he’ll take it. Just telling him to back the fuck off because I’m tired not only from his unfaltering ability to keep me busy and working, even when I’m asleep, and also now because my dear older, moronic cousin has lost our grimoire which was entrusted to him, which I need to get rid of Freddy, in order to sleep and actually feel rested!

Oh, my goodddddd, I would do almost anything right now to dream about stupid normal stuff like flying, or running from an encroaching car, or falling. Even falling, which wakes you up. At least I can fall right back to sleep.

“Okay, now, see, if you tell me that, I’ll just wanna do the opposite! ~” The clawed glove nears my face and my right eye twitches, but I stand still there with my arms crossed and glare at it. The rusty, nearly black metal nearing my eyes, reflecting the sharp, gross grin on Freddy’s burnt face.

“So, its opposite day then?” I ask, humouring him because what else are you going to do? When he gets bored, he’s even more dangerous.

“Yep!” Visibly, the stripe sin his sweater switch places so its green and red, and not red and green. He thinks he’s funny.

And, clearly I’m exhausted otherwise I never would’ve fallen for that. “Then please touch me Fredrick.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, raucous laughter escapes him, and he holds his belly as he doubles over and laughs. I groan and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. I need to wake up. “Out of all the obnoxious murderers out there… “I got the worst of the lot.

“Yep, you got me. Now, let’s stop fucking around shall we? Let’s get to the good stuff!”

“Oh no.” I half groan, half whine in dread and fear. Suddenly, the fact that I fell asleep feels like stupidest move ever- at any time, he might kill me. Its just blind luck that he hasn’t felt like ending the game so far. But he could at any time, including this time.

Freddy disappears again, and I whip around to look for him. My heart starts to beat thunderously in my chest because nothing good has ever occurred when Freddy disappears. I’ve been shot, I’ve been crushed under a stone slab, I’ve been choked with 80’s twisted telephone phone cables- I’ve even been kissed. And every time, I get closer to dying. I lose oxygen, I lose blood, I lose morale. Every time I get hurt, Freddy takes me closer to death then before and I think I’m actually gone this time. He’s bored, I’m not enough anymore, the torture is over.

Which is both a relief and even more horrifying then anything else. Tears cluster in my eyes as time goes by and nothing happens. I just see the boiler room around me, everything tinted red and everything damp and shiny with grease and rust. I don’t want to die.

Suddenly, smoke starts to fill the room. Until I can’t see anything at all except the white in front of me and my hand if I would raise it, but I don’t. I just stay very still, afraid of what’s about to happen. “Fr-Freddy?” I call, weak and disappointing myself. I’m a fucking witch… but that doesn’t really mean much in this world. Not without the spell that I need from the grimoire that’s nowhere to be found. I’m a witch, and I’ve raised to think that means something, means I’m a force to reckoned with, but here I am being reckoned with and I’m useless.

The ground underneath me starts to vibrate, and the smoke slowly starts to clear.

I squint, but I can’t see much through the remaining smoke and the tears shielding my eyes except a bright light.

The vibrating gets worse, and I look down and notice that the smoke has cleared enough at the point to see what beneath my feet, and the realisation of what’s there makes fear swarm throughout every crevice of my being. Mind, body and soul.

Train tracks.

My head snaps up again to see the light, a train, barrelling closer and closer to me. It’s so loud now that I’ve realised, I’m about get his by a fucking steam train, that my ears pop and protest to the pain of it all. The train gets closer and there’s Freddy. The fucker. Wearing a conductor’s uniform and hanging out the side of the driver’s compartment. He grins and waives.

I try to use rational sense and move out of the way, but rope shoots out of the earth between the tracks and twists tightly over my shoes. I try to wrench my feet out of my shoes, panicking now as the train tracks are practically jumping, but the ripe starts to climb… higher and higher up and around my legs and my hip and my arms, until I can’t move at all. It’s so tight I can’t barely even breath- not that I’ll need to for much longer.

I brace myself, and squeeze my eyes shut against the now blinding, all-encompassing brightness of the trains light. And then the train hits-

“FOUND IT!”

I’m wrenched suddenly, and violently from my sleep on the counter and straighten up so vigorously that I nearly slip right off the bar stool. There’s drool on the bench from my sleep, my cheek feels stiff from resting on it for a while, and whip around to look at Bernard who’s standing beside me now with the leather bound, yellow paged book that he’s found. I snatch it from his fingers, dropping it on the bench and start frantically looking through it, eyes still filled with tears and now they start falling. I slap a hand over my mouth, stifling the heavy sob that racks my back and shoulders and mouth from the shock and horror of what just nearly happened. I can still see fuzzy blue dots in my vision from the light, and my nose tingles because the train just touched. It smelled like smoke and coal and that’s still in my nose. Theirs white scrapes on my wrists from the rough rope.

“Y/N,” Bernard touches my arm and I don’t push him off, but I don’t respond, either. I barely notice him, too preoccupied with looking for the right spell. I need this to be over, that can’t happen to me again! I’m not brave enough for it. Another terrible sob forces its way from my chest and I feel half like curling into my cousins chest and crying my heart out and half like killing that bastard Freddy. Wrenching his entire nasty existence from unwritten history and tearing it so it will never be salvaged again.

The second half wins, as I go back through the book backwards, and this time find the spell. “Ow-Okay.”

“Y/N, take a moment- “

“No,” I snap. I nearly got h i t, by a t r a i n. A monstrous thing the same colour as Freddy’s blades. Bernard can’t understand that, but I sure as fuck can. Stammering, but sure, I start to recite the incantation under my breath. Slowly it gets louder, as words start to become harder to say and I need concentrate more. Latin mixes together into one big word, and its har don the best of days but when there’s expression magic involved, it takes an army. More.

And I am that, right now.

Bernard looks around as wind, not coming from an open door or window, starts picking up in this room and rushes to shut the curtains and block the rest of the world from seeing in. Napkins go flying, then the chairs topple over, and then finally the wind is so strong that coffee maker rips from the wall and smashes into the glass sweets case.

I don’t see it, because I’m still following the words in the book, but I hear it. But only just, over the terrible wind screaming through my ears. Finally, the spell reaches its peak and the air in front of Bernard and me, who has gotten back to where I am, opens up. Like someone took a knife and tore literally through the fabric of space and time and magic, revealing the familiar boiler room.

The words start to speak on their own. Whispering in the wind and my lips don’t even have to move, so I let Bernard take the book. Its all so chaotic, I don’t know how I know what to do. But I reach forward and just, lightly touch the hole and its like the magic knows exactly what I want.

Dirty dust, like what Freddy turns into when you bring out of a piece of him from the dream world that I’ve been vacuuming for the past weeks appears, connects together into the shape of a man and then twists together slowly, disturbingly like vines until it isn’t dust and vines anymore. Its burnt flesh and knitted, red and green cotton.

And he looks mad. “You bitch.” Is all he manages to say, but it’s got so much hatred and fury in it that I nearly get scared. I feel it creeped into my bones and organ in my chest.

But then I remember. This is my world.

And I don’t want him in it. “Get out.” I spit, and just like the world seems to crash. Eliminating an existence -anything. Much less a person, - is a lot of work and a big deal. It shouldn’t be possible at all, and I believe that. But I believe it like some who believe murder shouldn’t be possible.

But it is and sometimes it happens, in dire situations.

It feels like I’m being torn on the inside, and scraped clean on the outside- punishment, for doing such a thing. Something to make the world balanced for this.

And Freddy warps like The Scream or a computer glitch. Half of him gong up and the other half going down. Its horrifying sight and I’m in so much pain, but I make my eyes stay open.

And then everything goes black.

___TIME SKIP: A Week___

The whole week has gone by like dream. Not a Freddy dream. Not even a happy dream. Just, like its unreal. I don’t feel much, except a slow, soft blankness like when you’re totally out of it in class after a really, really bad day.

Its not particularly a bad feeling, not compared to the horrors I endured before. Its just like I need to rest, after I used so much power, and feeling so much in general.

Oh, and I have. I’ve been sleeping all the time. Day and night. It’s been uninterrupted and nearly… empty, feeling. Bizarly, I’m well aware now when I’m asleep that I’m dreaming. I’m lucid. Like when Freddy would be there, but without him. Its not exactly restful, but still. It’s better than the nightmares.

Right now, I’m going to sleep. Feeling tiredness expand and unconsciousness take over.

Immediately, I nearly jolt right awake again from fear. Nearly. But his hand grips onto my arm before I can.

Freddy’s right in front of me, smiling sharp like a much madder, pissed off the Cheshire cat. “Heya again sweetheart.” His voice sounds too real. His touch feels to real. This cant be- “It took a fucking lot. Pulled a few strings, don’t know how. Don’t ask. But I’m back. Don’t worry though, I’m not about to kill you. That was a real neat trick you pulled… “I jump, and whimper when the a blade on his glove touches my cheek, and he leans much closer.

“So, we have a lot to talk about.”

You didn’t think you could rid of this Slasher, did you?

#Request #Freddy Krueger x Reader Oneshot #Oneshot #Freddy Krueger #Expression magic

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rainandhotchocolate · 5 years ago

Text

About Last Night - P2

A/N So i know I have a million other requests but I’m a sucker for this story sooooo here’s part 2222 lel enjoy!!

Mon 12:00pm

Sirius ~ So before I read the weekend news, should I be worried about seeing any murders I was supposed to be involved in? ~

Y/N ~ Don’t worry I planted your fingertips everywhere so they’ll know you were involved as well ~

Sirius ~ Oh thank god, I needed something to destroy my reputation ~

Y/N ~ And what reputation is that? ~

Sirius ~ Oh you know, cool edgy creative writing major with a soft side ™ ~

Y/N ~ Dear god you’re one of them :O ~

Sirius ~ Ur DiffEReNT thAN OthER giRlS ~

Y/N ~ **Blocked**

Sirius ~ I sincerely hope you know I was joking ~

Y/N ~ I guess I’ll have to find out :P What are you up to today? ~

Sirius ~ Well apart from giving my alibi to police, I have about 3 hours of classes today and an essay due ~

Y/N ~ Wow, that sounds like a super fun day – any good classes? ~

Sirius ~ Yeah I’m enjoying my lit class at the moment, we are doing genre fiction at the moment so looking into how writers create worlds, even within our own world, and why genre fiction is so looked down upon in literature society ~

~ and now that I’ve typed that out I am realising that it probably doesn’t sound wildly interesting ~

Y/N ~ Hahaha nah it does! That would be cool to learn about, I’m a sucker for genre fiction tbh, could never read the classics ~

Sirius ~ That just means you never found a good classic 😉 – What kinda stuff do you read? ~

Y/N ~ look I want no judgement here… I honestly mostly read fantasy/ sci-fi ~

Sirius ~ Have you read Dune?? ~

Y/N ~ Yes !!! Holy shit such a good series !! ~

Sirius ~ I’ve been trying to get my mates to read it for a LIFETIME its so good ~

Y/N ~ I would have thought Remus would have read them? He’s always got a new book with him ~

Sirius ~ I didn’t know you knew Remus as well? But yeah, he in theory would but he also has a long list of to reads and wants to go through them one after another ~

Y/N ~ Yeah, he studies with Lily a lot and I sometimes join them 😊. Also jesus that’s commitment, I’m usually picking up another book whilst I’m halfway through another ~

Sirius ~ I have no idea how he does it, if I’m being honest, if I hate a book I just don’t finish it (please don’t tell my literary friends I told you that, I would be killed in my sleep) ~

Y/N ~ Haha your secret is safe with me – imo I reckon that’s the best way to read, like why force yourself through something just because it’s a classic or whatever, I feel like that’s why so many people don’t read a lot you know? ~

Sirius ~ Completely! I actually just realised I have no idea what you study? ~

Y/N ~ Ahh that’s because I’ve been avoiding the question ~

Sirius ~ It can’t be worse than creative writing – I won’t even get a job after uni ~

Y/N ~ Oh believe me, it is. I study communications ~

Sirius ~ Oh dear lord you are every white girl who ever existed ~

Y/N ~ I know, I’m perpetuating the stereotype its very disappointing tbh ~

Sirius ~ So is that where you work then? ~

Y/N ~ Wow you remember a lot haha yeah, I’m doing an internship in social media management, it’s surprisingly soul-sucking ~

Sirius ~ Is that surprising… 😉 ~

Y/N ~ I mean, that was thinly veiled sarcasm haha but it’s actually not all bad, the strategy behind content etc is actually pretty interesting, and I’m working for an eco-friendly company so at least I get to come up with cool environmental memes ~

Sirius ~ Ahh yes, hit the youth with the memes ~

Y/N ~ See, you’re learning the comms ways already ~

Thurs 11:28pm

Y/N ~ Whats ya facebook? ~

Sirius ~ Uhhh… Sirius Black? It’s not wildly hard to find, why? ~

Y/N ~ I’m gonna be real, I would like to stalk you ~

Sirius ~ Is this Y/N? ~

Y/N ~ :O ok you’ve known Y/N like 2 days how did you guess that ~

Sirius ~ Cause this message felt like one of those old school msn ‘my friend hacked me !!!’ ~

Y/N ~ You’re a smart boi, Black ~

Sirius ~ thank you kindly stranger ~

Fri 6:45 am

Y/N ~ I AM SO SORRY ~

~ MARLENE STOLE MY PHONE ~

~ I PROMISE I’M NOT A STALKER ~

Sirius ~ Why on earth are you awake right now ~

Y/N ~ Because my body never allows me to sleep in ~

Sirius ~ how rude, also don’t worry I accepted your Facebook request so you can stalk all you want 😉 ~

Y/N ~ Literally am going to stab Marlene ~

Sirius ~ At least she’s up front ~

Y/N ~ Wait why are you awake rn? ~

Sirius ~ James wants to make the firsts soccer team at uni and has decided I must train with him ~

Y/N ~ Well that’s gross ~

Sirius ~ Couldn’t have said that better myself ~

Y/N ~ so what does this training consist of ~

Sirius ~ Mainly James trying to shoot balls at my head as I attempt to goal keep ~

Y/N ~ Can’t see that ending well ~

Sirius ~ Excuse you, I happen to be VERY athletic. I am a multisided human being thanks ~

Y/N ~ I am so sorry to have placed my predisposed ideas on you ☹ pls forgive ~

Sirius ~ I will have to think about it – right now James wanted me to do suicides and I must go into hiding ~

Y/N ~ Godspeed ~

Sun 2:58pm

Y/N ~ Ok I know I promised not to stalk, but what the fuck is going on in this picture ~

~ file ~

Sirius ~ oh no no no no no no no no ~

Y/N ~ ehheheheheheheheh ~

Sirius ~ I really thought my privacy settings were better than this ~

Y/N ~ Yeah this was very easy to find ~

Sirius ~ I’m going to kill James ~

Y/N ~ You can’t blame james for this beauty ~

Sirius ~ Oh I really can, he decided it would be hilarious for us to have a photoshoot when I was completely trashed one night. And then proceeded to post everything and tag me ~

Y/N ~ James sounds like a fun night out ~

Sirius ~ I wouldn’t say that to lily ~

Y/N ~ What she doesn’t know won’t kill her 😉 ~

Sirius ~ You are slyer than I thought ~

Y/N ~ I think I’m going to frame this photo and place it all over your uni ~

Sirius ~ You wouldn’t ~

Y/N ~ You may need to convince me otherwise ~

Sirius ~ Anything to avoid that embarrassment in my life ~

Y/N ~ Perhaps you’ll just have to owe me for sparing you ~

Sirius ~ I think that’s a fair deal – what about a coffee? ~

Y/N ~ I think a coffee or two would be a fair trade off :P ~

Sirius ~ Well I have the most disgusting week of midterms but perhaps on the weekend? ~

Y/N ~ Sounds LIT ~

Sirius ~ You’ve just made me regret inviting you anywhere ~

Y/N ~ That’s what I’m here for 😉 ~

Wed 3:07pm

Sirius ~ Bit of a creepy question, but did I see you at uni today? Navy Skirt, Black Jumper, & tights?

Y/N ~ Wow you really observe an outfit don’t you ~

Sirius ~ I mean I noticed the outfit cause I thought it looked good and then I realised it was you and so it stuck in my head ~

~ in a less creepy way ~

~ in fact let me just completely start over – were you at uni today? I think I saw you! ~

Y/N ~ Maybe, what was I wearing? ~

Sirius ~ I hate you ~

Y/N ~ 😉 Well to answer your question, yes I was at uni – it was Lily and I’s weekly cheap lunch date ~

Sirius ~ Classy ladies you two are ~

Y/N ~ Couldn’t describe us better myself ~

Sirius ~ Oh by the way, are you going to Remus’ party this Friday? ~

Y/N ~ Mmmm I was thinking about it, why? ~

Sirius ~ No reason, I just knew Lily was invited and he mentioned inviting some of her friends ~

Y/N ~ Mmmm, yeah he told Lily to bring Marlene and me along, unsure though as Lily is particularly annoyed at James this week and he will of course be there and be annoying ~

Sirius ~ What if I can promise he won’t annoy her? ~

Y/N ~ I really don’t think you should make a promise you can’t keep :P ~

Sirius ~ Ah, you underestimate me! James has to go home this weekend to see his parents so he won’t actually be there ~

Y/N ~ This is a very interesting development – we may reconsider ~

Sirius ~ Well Remus does throw a great party ~

Y/N ~ DO you actually know what James did anyway? She usually likes to rant about it but she’s been shut in her room the past 2 days ~

Sirius ~ Honestly I’m not sure, James has been unprecedently quiet as well ~

Y/N ~ Hmmm how odd ~

Sirius ~ Indeed it is ~

Friday 4:42pm

Y/N ~ What are you guys wearing tonight? ~

Marlene ~ Not sure, I’m torn between a velour tracksuit or the classic Canadian tuxedo ~

Lily ~ Both very classy options ~

Marlene ~ You know me, go hard or go hard ~

Y/N ~ You’re both incredibly unhelpful ~

Marlene ~ Worried about meeting a certain dark haired texter? ~

Y/N ~ Am I not allowed to want my best friends’ help on my outfits?? ~

Marlene ~ I mean I can’t help you look hot if I don’t know who its for 😉 ~

Lily ~ God forbid she looks hot for herself ~

Marlene ~ Hey, you’ve gotta play to your audience ~

Y/N ~ How would you even know what he likes ~

Lily ~ She stalked him around campus yesterday ~

Y/N ~ um MARLENE ~

Marlene ~ I just wanted to know his style, habits, if he was a psycho killer ~

Lily ~ She has a point, if he’s as annoying as James we have to protect you at all costs ~

Marlene ~ We need to make sure she isn’t sucked in by his serial killer prowess ~

Y/N ~ You’re making me sound like prey ~

Marlene ~ 😉 ~

Y/N ~ How did you even stalk him, Lily has no classes with him ~

Marlene ~ I have my ways ~

Lily ~ She flirted with the office assistant until she gave her Sirius’ schedule ~

Y/N ~ You minx ~

Marlene ~ No one can resist my charms ~

Lily ~ That is yet to be determined actually ~

Y/N ~ very true Lils, we’ve never met anyone you’ve dated yet ~

Marlene ~ Sooooo not the point, and we’ve gone off topic! How are you going to wow Mr Black ~

Y/N ~ That is 100% not what I asked ~

Lily ~ you may as well have ~

Y/N ~ You both suck ~

Lily ~ Wear that flowy black dress you refuse to ever wear!! ~

Marlene ~ YES YOU LOOK BANGING IN THAT ~

Y/N ~ ugh but it’s a casual party ~

Marlene ~ Who gives a shit, stand out ~

Lily ~ He’ll be drooling ~

Y/N ~ I don’t need him to drool I just want to make a good first impression ~

Marlene ~ Aha the truth finally comes out ~

Y/N ~ if you were actually in your dorm I’d be hitting the roof with a broomstick rn ~

Lily ~ Where are you?? ~

Marlene ~ Where do you think 😉 ~

Lily ~ Not the office assistant ~

Marlene ~ 😉 ~

Lily ~ How!? I was with you the whole time, you never exchanged numbers ~

Marlene ~ Exchanging numbers doesn’t have to be an oral task… unlike other things 😉 ~

Y/N ~ We get it, your sexual prowess is above all of us ~

Lily ~ I’m honestly impressed, she was cute ~

Marlene ~ I’m offended you’d be impressed tbh ~

Y/N ~ Ok so you are both coming over to my house in an hour to dress and intoxicate me ~

Lily ~ Deal ~

Marlene ~ Maybe give me an extra 30 mins 😊 ~

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#rainandhotchocolate #sirius #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius x you #Sirius x Y/N #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #Marauders RP #marauders x you #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #sirius black x reader

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sirfluffig · 5 years ago

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“For the first time in his life.” (OUTDATED)

This is one of the few occasions I decided to write a fic. Why? Because I felt like, doing what I missed out on with Flavio. Creating content. So anyways, have fun with my HPMA Disasters!!

Word Count: 2386 Words

Characters mentioned: Logan & Marigold Ceccere, Flavio Ceccere, Theodore Ceccere, Cody Finnigan, Daniel Paige, Robyn Thistlethwaite, “Cassandra”, Nessi Lucerne ( @kathrynalicemc ), Elvira Damon ( @diddy00 )

Warning: As one of the many not primarily english speaking users in this fandom, I want to apologize for obvious grammar or vocabulary errors! <3

It's been quite some time, since his eleventh birthday has passed. The days of July and August flew by and finally the day has come on which another young and rather innocent student has to begin his more than adventurous journey at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Platform 9 ¾ was rather crowded today, a few staff members were struggling to bring order in the chaos as countless pure-blood, half-blood and muggle-born families were making their way through the masses to get to the old and used train that brought the students to the castle in the scottish highlands.

A blonde pureblood wizard was seen, that was lifting tons of suitcases and bags into the train, while his apparent daughter was striding around as if the entire station was owned by her. Her high and squeaking voice was a glass shattering sound, that broke through the, now somehow grouped amount of people. But nobody really granted her attention, so she just threw her long charming blonde hair back and judged the people passing by with her glares.

On the other side of the platform, there was a tired student, his dark reddish almost auburn hair was hanging onto the old and weathered pages of a book. Even though, his eyes were unable to see anything other than the inked lines of the yellow and at some points teared paper, he managed to evade any collisions with others. A remarkable talent that was mostly known by only one other wizard alive.

Just in time, a last kid came through the magical portal and onto the platform itself. A slight rumble ensued as the family was making its way to the train, nearly crashing into countless innocent children. The boy that was accompanied by his parents looked rather sickly, towering above the other first years. There only were a few that could compete in a test of height. One of them, with beautiful short black hair...and strange looking teeth...another one...more fish than human. This year, was sure to be extraordinary.

The boy’s parents were a mix of serious mentality and free spirited youth. His father looked like an escaped hell hound. He was a steady man, tall and masculine, but not muscular. He had medium long brown hair, hanging down the sides of his head, a red glowing eye that was scanning the surroundings for potential danger, while the other one was covered by a black eye-patch. While his body was hidden beneath a trenchcoat and some old fashioned clothes. On his coat was a badge positioned which belonged to a high ranked member of the Ministry of Magic Curse Breaking Department. This insignia alone granted him respect in the eyes of some parents and disgust in the ones of others.

His mother on the other side, was a pure ray of sunshine. Her smile was charming and a representation of the purity of her soul. She had long curly blonde hair, that fell down from her angel-like face, making a slight curve around her small snub nose and over her shoulders. Her emerald green eyes were always directed towards her little eleven year old son, while her hands where shoving the cart towards the Hogwarts Express. To protect herself from the autumn typical temperature, she wore a pinkish wool pullover under a overall jeans. She almost looked like a farmer’s girl if she wasn't known to be one of the more successful wandmaker apprentices under Ollivander.

The boy himself, wasn't that sparking of attention. Just before he took his first step into the old and rusty train, he turned around, looking at his parents with tears in his eyes.

“M-Mom...Dad...Why can’t I stay home and be homeschooled by Uncle Flavio like before?” The nervous voice of the youngster made its way to the ears of his parents. His mother got on one knee before him, laying both hands on his shoulders, sending off some warmth and confidence.

“Theo. Uncle Flavio sadly can’t homeschool you anymore. He has to work more than usual since the small outbreaks of chaotic wizards that need the attention of Obliviators...and Hogwarts is just about fine! It's one of the most renown Wizarding Schools!”

“Yeah because of its dangerous and murderous tendencies!” Theo interrupted her promptly, his eyes were now filled with some kind of logical anger. It was clear that Hogwarts wasn't fine. It was never fine. Everyone who had studied there was either insane or dead now. “I have read about the dangers uncle had to endure during his time at school! Cursed Vaults-”

As soon as these words were finished, the Curse Breaker cleared his throat. “You don't need to be scared of the Vaults anymore Theo. We got that handled years ago. Your uncle and I, made sure that nobody opens up one of them ever again and since Voldemort’s thankfully gone, there is nothing that could harm you anymore.” he tried to calm his son down, without much success. It was clear that Theo believed none of it. There was no calm and secure year at Hogwarts, that’s what he learned from History.

Meanwhile other students tried to board the train to Hogwarts but were stopped because some tall kid, with cedar brown hair was blocking the entrance. A few of the parents thought about asking him to clear the way for their kids but as soon as their eyes caught the intimidating figure of a man, standing next to the boy they decided not to bother them.

Before anyone could have said anything, Theo was pushed into the train by an impatient young girl anyways, causing a massive pushing and jostle in the crowd of students. Theo was forcefully moved away from his parents sight and deeper into the train. The last thing his eyes could see was the black bob cut of the girl that was pushing him before everything in front of him became empty.

He never had been alone, without his parents in a unfamiliar place. He looked around and the walls began slowly moving towards each other, threatening to crush Theo between them. Everything seemed to become blurred. It was almost as if Theo got dizzy. The young boy closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. As soon as he opened his eyes, everything was normal again.

Now he stood in the middle of the train. It was fairly high and wide, so Theo had no trouble walking in his usual posture. He decided to move deeper into the train, since fighting against the stream of first years slowly boarding the train would have been idiotic. The inside of the train was actually pretty astonishing. You wouldn't have imagined it this big from the outside.

On the left and right were compartments with enough spots for the entire school to find a seat. Some were already taken by excited looking kids, laughing and playing with each other. It seemed like they were on the best way to become friends. Yeah… friends. Something Theo used to have, but since the accident… Well, Theo wasn't in the mood for social interaction anyways, so he wandered around, looking for an empty cabinet.

A few minutes passed and the train was about to start moving as Theo had found a small compartment for himself. The door was easy to open, as the more or less weak looking student stepped inside. He gently sat down on one of the red bolstered seats and put his shoulder bag right beside him. The bag itself looked rather weathered and used, flicked a few times, even without magic.

Theo carefully opened the zipper and took out a book that obviously was not new at all, it had a lot of scratches and tears all over it. Nothing that an entitled brat would even touch. The leathery smelling novel with golden ornaments was called “Belle et la Bête” and had engraved the golden letters of his surname on the back, symbolizing that it was one of the few remains of the first Ceccere’s that were located in France. This family heirloom has been given to countless generations and now it belongs to Theo.

A few hours passed by and the train rolled over the rails with a confident speed. It had done this track over a thousand times and today it won't be any different, will it? The beautiful nature of Scotland was rushing by the window with an unimaginable speed.

The world around Theo got blurry. The roads were turning in his head and soon, he wasn't sitting in a train anymore. The loud rattle of the wheels on the rails were drowned out by the giddy and happy sounds of two children that were running in the forest, laughing and giggling, like there was nothing to worry about in this world.

The kids, a young boy with brown hair and amethyst coloured eyes and a girl with beautiful blonde braids and brown cubicles of creativity as eyes were playing outside. The chill wind of autumn was playing with their hair as they ran through the thicket. For the moment, they were in their own little world. He was a brave knight fighting against a feisty dragon in this enchanted woods to save the princess.

They did that often and it didn't take long until the boy discovered his feelings for his friend. Yet he never told her about them. He was way too shy. So they played on and on and on.

Suddenly Theo got ripped out of one of his usual day dreams by the shout of a inhuman cranky voice, that sounded from another compartment.

“That’s where my mother lives!” This voice reminded him of someone, he had heard it today already. Theo turns to the window and there was nothing else than a giant pond in front of him. A bit further away was a light house with a strayed gravel path to the water. Even though, nobody could have seen him, Theo raised his eyebrow. Surely nobody’s mother could live underwater, could they?. The student leaned back into his soft seat and took up the book again.

He had learned french, only to be able to read this book, so he wanted to use every chance he got. Not that french had not helped him otherwise as well. He was able to talk with his aunt and her brother in french for a bit, even though he did poorly on that.

His tender fingers were slightly creeping over the cover of the book while his purple eyes were scanning the lines cautiously like an owl waiting for a mouse to come of its hole.

Theo was able to get some silence. The train had made its way through the most part of Scotland and it shouldn't take much longer till they arrive at the pompous and more than aesthetically pleasing Hogwarts . He was still feeling somewhat strange. He hadn't been without his parents supervision for so long. Would he even be able endure, entire seven years without them?

The eleven year old nervously knocked with his fingers on the seat next to him. “It’s going to be good...Alice won’t be there..:Nobody will judge you” he told to himself over and over again. Will everything be good though? Or was he just lying to himself, to make him feel better?

The only thing that kept Theo calming company was the silence. But this silence shouldn't be forever.

With a loud shrieking sound, the door of the compartment was shoved open and a young boy was standing in the frame.

He wasn't nearly as tall as Theo but he wasn't bad looking either.

The intruder had short side-parted dark brown hair, which was flowing down his face, covering his left eye a bit. The hair itself looked wild and untamed, as if he hadn't combed it for the last three years.

The boy was pretty well build but had a rather slumped posture, making him look way less elitist than Theo. Yet the most eye-catching thing were the burning bright pink eyes of the kid, that were carelessly observing the room.

“Hiya there”. said the intruder with a smirk on his face. He didn't seem as excited or jumpy as the other 11 year olds that Theo had encountered, yet he had a loud and orotund voice.

Because Theo had not expected anyone else to join him on the last few kilometers to Hogwarts, he was startled by the noise, causing his head to jolt up and hit the back of the seat brutally.

“Ay Fella, everything all right? Seems like you hit your head quite hard? I hope I didn't scare you too much?” Theo hadn't even realized what was happening as he rubbed the back of his head in pain and this guy was already full into a conversation.

To answer his question, Theo just shook his head “No, everything's fine, Thank you for asking. Just...please don't scare me like that again”. The future Ravenclaw’s voice was soft and silvery in comparison.

“May I take that seat off of ya then?” The smaller boy asked. His voice sounded kind of annoying and nosy. Him being in the compartment would make the last bit of the journey hell for Theo. So he decided to say no.

“Well, yes...s-sure...I don’t mind.” What? That was not how it was planned! The other boy threw himself on the seat, leaning back with a sigh. Everything about him radiated such chaotic energy that even Theo hadn’t seen before. The boy’s shoes weren’t tied right, his clothes were in a horrible condition. Unbelievable.

“So, I'm sorry for breakin’ in here like that but I'm searchin’ for some interesting people for donkey’s years in this train. It's gettin' boring with all these rule sticklers and goody two shoes. Ya wouldn't believe it. Every kid seems the same! …. And honestly someone reading the french version of Beauty and the Beast is intriguing enough for me.” The boy leaned forward, holding out his hand to Theo.

“Finnigan my name. Cody Finnigan!” the smirk on Cody’s face hasn't left him once till now. Theo cautiously took his hand, a bit skeptic about his new acquaintance

“My name is Theo...Theo Ceccere...”

#HPMA #harry potter magic awakened #theo ceccere #cody finnigan #harry potter #Logan Ceccere #Flavio Ceccere #How does one correctly use these ones anyways?!?

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metalandmagi · 5 years ago

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Fall 2019 Anime Worth Watching

Wondering what anime to watch now that the jam packed summer season is over? Never fear, we’re into the fall, and there’s even more great shows this season! It’s my last rec list of the year so we’re in the home stretch now!

Full disclaimer, this season is packed with great shows, but a lot of these are not available on Crunchyroll...so here’s a link to a list of where you can watch everything legally on streaming! And I’ll but an (*) by everything that IS on Crunchyroll.

And here’s my recs for every season this year:

Summer 2019

Spring 2019

Winter 2019

And here’s my master list for 2020

New shows!

Chuubyou Gekihatsu-Boy (Outburst Dreamer Boy): A comedy in which a normal girl just wants a peaceful high school life, but finds herself surrounded by a group of ridiculous, overly dramatic boys who are all part of the “hero club” who try to make her school life better by helping her make friends. This is all well and good, but all the boys are delusional in one way or another. For example, one thinks he and his friends are basically Power Rangers, and another is obsessed with fabricating dramatic fake anime backstories for himself. It’s Ouran High School Host Club without the hosting. It’s absolutely hilarious, but it’s really flying under the radar because it’s not on Crunchyroll.

Kabukichou Sherlock: A surprisingly comedic modern version of Sherlock Holmes that takes place in the seedier portions of Japan in which a bunch of the city’s quirky detectives try and hunt down Jack the Ripper. I was not expecting this to be nearly as good as it was. The characters are great, Mrs. Hudson is a transvestite cabaret singer, the soundtrack is bomb, it’s an original anime by Production I.G. AND SHERLOCK EXPLAINS HIS DETECTIVE PROCESS THROUGH MYSTERY SOLVING RAKUGO!!!!

Babylon: NO, NOT FATE BABYLONIA! This is a mystery/thriller involving a case of illegal clinical research for a pharmaceutical company that leads down a rabbit hole full of murder, suicide, and political intrigue. IT’S LIKE DEATH NOTE AND MONSTER HAD A BABY AND IT’S FREAKING AMAZING! I haven’t been this interested in a mystery/crime anime since Erased. The first episode will definitely leave you...hanging…. The only problem is it’s not on Crunchyroll, so I have a feeling most people won’t know about it because it’s on freaking Amazon Prime!

Hoshiai no Sora (Stars Align): A coming of age sports anime in which a boys soft tennis team sucks so bad that the school will disband them if they don’t win a tournament. And the team captain is so desperate for serious members, he literally pays his childhood friend who recently moved back into town to play on the team. And said childhood friend has an incredibly interesting backstory and struggling family life that ropes you in right away. How is soft tennis different from regular tennis? No clue, but this show is awesome! You can tell by the first episode it is going to be a great coming of age story, with more mature themes of abuse and class difference.

And it’s not the only sports anime with Sora in the title...

*Ahiru no Sora (Sora the Duck): Another sports anime, in which a short, spikey haired boy wants to play basketball (yeah yeah very original) but discovers that his high school basketball team is full of punks! It’s basically what would happen if Izuku Midoriya wanted to be a basketball player. The first few minutes are basically every sports anime you’ve ever seen, BUT it really lives up to its potential by the end of the first episode. It has a likable protagonist, good animation, and the female characters all wear realistic clothes to play basketball in! If you’re a piece of sports anime trash like me, this is definitely the show for you!

No Gun Life: In a detective noir world where everyone has basically become a cyborg, a guy with a gun for a head works to uncover the plans of an evil organization. That’s it, that’s the whole thing. It’s made by Madhouse AND IT’S A CYBORG WITH A GUN FOR A HEAD! What else do you need?!

Beastars: IT’S JUST ANIME ZOOTOPIA! I’m not even kidding. It’s a school based mystery involving anthropomorphic animals who are faced with the murder of one of their classmates and the disruption of the peaceful coexistence of all types of animals in the school. It involves the whole predator vs prey dynamic and how appearances are deceiving, all with a jarringly serious tone considering everyone’s an animal. The only thing that doesn’t sit right with me is the use of 3D animation...which I notoriously despise no matter how great the show is. But even I am willing to put aside my hatred to keep watching this anime. The characters are interesting, it’s shot really creatively, and I love how ridiculously seriously it takes itself. Apparently it’s going to be on Netflix at some point.

*Shin Chuuka Ichiban (True Cooking Master Boy): It’s Food Wars’ less porny sibling that takes place in 19th century China, where a young boy named Mao is a master chef who travels around spreading his love for cooking! This is a reboot/continuation of an anime based on a manga from the 90s so there’s a really fun retro art style that’s nice to see updated. Apparently it picks up in the middle of the original story, but I haven’t felt like it’s necessary to see the source material to enjoy it or understand it. Also the soundtrack is bomb! It’s a great shounen to watch if you want more cross-cultural cooking anime that’s not straight up porn in your life, and it will definitely make you hungry!

Next seasons and Continuations!

And don’t forget the summer leftovers, and some shows are getting continuations!

*Chihayafuru season 3: This is an incredibly fantastic underrated sports/club anime about a girl named Chihaya who struggles to find members for her karuta club after her best friend who made her fall in love with the game moves away. Never heard of “karuta”? It’s a physically and mentally challenging traditional Japanese game involving 100 poems written on cards that the players must memorize and locate before their opponent….it makes more sense when you see it I promise. This show is goddamn amazing, with incredibly realistic characters, an amazing game that most people don’t know about, gorgeous animation. It’s hilarious, it’s dramatic, it’s sad, and it’s uplifting all at once.

This doesn’t premier until October 23, (so you’ve got time to binge the first 2 seasons!) but this is by far my most anticipated show of the season and quite possibly the entire year! I’VE BEEN WAITING SO MANY YEARS FOR ANOTHER SEASON, AND I’M SO PSYCHED!

Kono Oto Tomare (Stop this Sound) season 2: Speaking of club related anime, in case you missed the first season earlier this year, this is an anime about a boy who tries to recruit members for his high school koto club after all his senpais graduate. What’s a koto club you ask? It’s a large Japanese string instrument that no one cares about or plays anymore of course! Their club is endearingly terrible, with literally only one competent person on the team, but they’re aiming for nationals anyway, because...of course they are. This show seems pretty textbook at first, but it really grows on you the further you get. There are great character dynamics, it’s fun, it’s sweet, and there’s cool music that people don’t hear a lot of! If you like sports or club focused anime, give this one a chance!

*Dr. Stone: An action adventure in which all of humanity is mysteriously turned to stone one day. When a genius high school boy named Senku and his….not so genius friend Taiju awaken 3,700 years in the future, the two must rebuild civilization and turn the world back to normal with the power of science! I know pretty much everyone is watching this already, but I just want to reiterate how amazing it is. It is mysterious, educational, hilarious, and it really makes you think about civilization as we know it today. It was one of the best (if not the best) new show of the summer, and I’m so glad it’s getting a full run!

Vinland Saga: THE VIKING ANIME IS GETTING A FULL RUN!!!!!!!! In case you missed this gem in the summer, it’s a historical drama about a young boy named Thorfinn and his journey to avenge his father’s death and become a great warrior. And it’s all while traveling with his enemies through Northern Europe. It’s a fantastic dark, realistic story in a historical setting that filled the void left by Dororo. Plus it’s animated by Wit, so it looks beautiful. The music is great, the characters are intriguing, the story is interesting, AND IT HAS AN AMAZING ANTAGONIST! It has hype written all over it, so I’m pumped for the rest of the season! Unfortunately, you can only find it legally on Amazon Prime, so that’s why no one’s watching it.

*Fire Force: The (unfortunately timed) action/drama where fire fighters with super powers must protect Tokyo from people who are spontaneously combusting and uncover the evil rooted within their own organization. It’s made by the same person who created Soul Eater, and it definitely shows. The animation is high flying and out of this world. It’s worth watching for the action alone. But be warned, the plot and characters are it’s biggest weakness. It will jump between gratuitous fanservice and hijinks and then rocket into moral dilemmas and disturbing situations with no warning. BUT I still like watching it for the action, and in these later episodes the plot has steered itself back on track a lot more, and I’m way more interested in where the story is going now. I’m hoping that means the second half will give us a better sense of the characters. It also has a top tier muscular waifu!

*My Hero Academia season 4: I’m sure everyone’s already going to be watching MHA, but I guess I’d have my anime fan badge revoked if I didn’t at least mention this one. I may not read the manga, but I know this arc is going to be a good one! I firmly believe this will be a modern classic, so if you haven’t checked it out yet, it’s really worth watching.

And that’s it for this season. I’ll probably do a list at the end of the year of my top shows of 2019, but otherwise, see you in the winter of 2020!

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sleepyfan-blog · 6 years ago

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*Tired nyoom* I'm tired, stressed, and requesting some angsty Angel's Flower with that thing we discussed in Discord with Ink trying to basically get rid of Venus and take Heelies back home

fandom: Undertale AU

characters and pairing: Ink, Heliotrope, Venus - ocs by @izzy-the-bizzy Angel’s Flower

warnings: attempted murder, kidnapping

word count: 2,116

Summary: Ink is determined to save his poor, brainwashed son from the seductive clutches of Evil. Even if he has to kill to do it.

tagslist: @anxiety-is-married-to-depression @angelofthehalfmoon @trainwreck-of-skeletons @hisame-amadashi @therandomskelekey @capisnotonfire

Ink was pacing back and forth, the more that he thought about the argument that he had with Heelies, the more upset that he got.

“You do realize that Venus is Nightmare’s top spy! They are trying to turn you to his side, so that you will fight against us and spread evil!” Ink had pointed out with a growl, not wanting his precious son to be tainted by Nightmare’s darkness.

“Yes, I know that they work for Nightmare! But they would never hurt me, and I love them. They love me.” Heelies snapped back, his generally laid back and easy going demeanor having changed completely. The younger skeleton is glaring at his dad and his fists are balled at his sides.

Ink has never seen his son so aggressive before - further proof that Nightmare and this Venus have been trying and are succeeding in twisting his gentle, naive baby boy into someone dangerous and deadly. “Nightmare is an expert in breaking minds and twisting people to suit his will. I don’t want him to break you and turn you into a parody of who you are, Heelies. I love you dearly, and I want you to be safe.”

“I am safe! And you say that Nightmare is evil and wants to destroy the multiverse. He doesn’t - I’ve seen how he deals with some of the worst timelines I’ve ever seen. He negotiates with their leaders - the human and monster - in exchange for resources or space. Yes, he is interfering with the stories that the timelines are supposed to take… But he seems to be trying to interfere for the better.” Heelies huffed, glaring more at his papa, shaking with anger.

Ink’s eye lights widen, and he whispers just loud enough for his son to hear “By the creators… I was worried that things were bad, but I… I hadn’t thought that Nightmare and that seductive spy of his had twisted your mind so far…” He reached out to his son, but Heelies darted back, the scowl on his face darker than Ink had ever seen it.

“Ven hasn’t twisted my mind, and neither has Mr. Nightmare. Both of them are very different hen who you believe them to be, dad. I… This was exactly the reason why I never wanted to tell you that I was dating someone. I knew that you’d freak out about it, especially since Ven isn’t the sort of person you’d approve of me dating.” Heelies had hissed, hurt and frustrated and unwilling to let Ink reach out and hug the other close, to help him calm down.

“Heelies, please be reasonable. Don’t-” Ink began, trying to placate his son, but the other cut him off abruptly.

“I am being reasonable! You’re the one who won’t listen! I’m leaving and you can’t stop me!” Heliotrope had yelled, teleporting away and though Ink tried to teleport after the other, Heelies had used several portals through a half-dozen AUs, and Ink couldn’t track the other.

Ink had managed to find his wayward, manipulated son. Heliotrope was, of course, in the timeline that Nightmare had set up his main base - or at least one of them. It was the base that Nightmare held Dream hostage on numerous occasions, and trying to get into that timeline was always a pain, as the very magic of the AU seemed to resist his presence entering it. Ink was fairly sure that NIghtmare had somehow woven spells into the base code of the timeline itself so that he couldn’t enter timelines with liquids in them somehow.

But for now, the creative guardian wasn’t wondering how that was fucking possible. He had decided on a course of action. Venus was the one who had stolen his precious’ son’s heart, and as long as they were alive, they would have a pull on his heart, as Heelies was an intensely loyal and caring person (much like his papa, Blue)… So Ink was going to kill Venus and take his son back. He was well aware of the fact that killing them would hurt Heelies, but it would be for the best. Heelies would eventually forgive him, especially after the other forgot about Venus - as Heelies did have some of Ink’s own forgetfulness tendencies, needing to keep a pad of paper and something to write with in his inventory to keep track of important things.

He and Blue had argued about what to do for months and months. But Ink was certain that the longer that they hesitated and delayed, the more deeply brainwashed and darker Heelies would become, and the longer it would take for his son to recover from the awful misery that Nightmare was doubtlessly putting their son through. He wrote a note to Blue and Dream - in case either one of them stopped by the house before he was back.

I’m going to go get Heelies back! And make sure that the one who took him from us is permanently dealt with. See you later! ~Ink

With a roll of his shoulders, Ink concentrated hard on Nightmare’s castle, intending to appear on the roof, rather than inside one of the rooms, where someone could be in and then alert the rest of the castle to his presence. It took a solid ten minutes of focusing, but Ink felt his magic shift and twist.

He activated his eye lights and sure enough, the rust-red sky was overhead, the miserable bare dirt fields that extended in rolling waves all around the spikey, intimidating looking castle. Ink closed his eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips as he sensed Venus’s magic. They were alone from what he could tell. Good, that would make things easier. He teleported directly outside of the younger skeleton’s room, broom in hand. He activated a bit of his magic, the magical paint beginning to drip from the tip of broomy’s brush as he walked in.

Venus turned towards him, the smile on their face falling somewhat as they recognized him “I… Oh… Hello?” They looked a little cautious but confused. “Uhm… Why are you here?”

“To see you and Heelies, of course. It’s been months since I’ve seen my son, and I’m worried about him… You are in possession of his heart. He’s’ a gentle soul. Sweet, cheerful… Oh, he can pretend to be scary and bluster all he likes… But you and I both know that he couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Haha… Yeah. Heelies is such a pacifist. It’s really endearing to see him try to spar against a couple of the others though. He tries really hard. He just… He’s wonderful.” The vile villain hummed, an amused smirk playing on their lips, a cruel parody of a loving tone in their voice. “He misses you and Blue. He won’t admit it easily, but I can sense that he does. He’d be so happy to hear that you’re in the castle ‘cause you want to talk to him.”

“Actually, I wanted to speak to you, first. As I previously stated, you hold my son’s rather fragile soul in your hands… And I just…” Ink sighs, shaking his head as he takes his brush from behind his back, beginning to lean on it, faux-casually “I’m just not convinced that you’re the right person for him. How many have you killed? How many AUs have fallen into NIghtmare’s control because of the intel that you gather? Dozens? Hundreds? I know that your LV is comparable to Dust or Killers, and they’ve both slaughtered their entire timeline - and that was before Nightmare got his hands on them.”

Venus flinched, looking away from him, shifting uncomfortably, their wings partially wrapping around themself in a gesture that would be a subconscious attempt at soothing themself if Ink didn’t know that they were a master manipulator - just like their boss, Nightmare. “I… I’d rather not think about how many people I’ve killed. I-I’ve killed many of them in s-self defense. Besides we’ve… We’ve been doing things differently in the past decade or two. Less murder and more negotiation. It helps that Papa and Sat drop by and visit. Their nagging helps Dad think things through a bit more logically. I… I know that I have blood and dust on my hands… But… Mr. Ink, sir. I… I really, truly love Heelies. He’s the light of my life, and I… I’ve never realized what it was like to be in love until Heelies came crashing into my life. I… I know that I’m not what you’d hope for in a partner for Heelies, but I try to be worthy of him. I… I know that I’ve become a better person, since I’ve gotten to know him.”

Hmmm… Venus had definitely been taught how to persuade others by Nightmare - that same silver tongue… Wait - dad. Papa. Whoever the fuck Sat was. Ink’s eye lights swirl in a chaotic swirl of colors and shapes as something that he’d been just about to connect for a while now finally slid into place “Wait… You’re Nightmare’s child? Not someone who he picked up in a timeline because he found you to be useful?”

“Yes. I’m his oldest child. Saturn is my younger brother… Did you not know that?” Venus responded, a startled frown appearing on their face.

By the creators, that added another layer of twistedness to all of this! It also explained why Dream was so… Strange when it came to Venus. He had a tangled past with Nightmare, and would of course be aware of Venus’s parentage. Why Dream knew so much about Nightmare, the positive guardian never said. But this… Perhaps with Venus’s death, it would give the dark and destructive lord of negativity a bit of pause to grieve, and give him and the other Star Sanses time to breathe and plan how to deal with the other’s charm offensive. “No, I did not. Is Saturn in the castle as well?” Killing both of Nightmare’s children would surely be a benefit to the multiverse - but he’d settle for the one who had stolen his son’s soul for now.

“No, Sat is usually with papa, or hidden away in some timeline that dad and I can’t get to, due to being negative beings. But papa’s gotten better about that as dad’s calmed down and the two of them have started talking instead of just fighting.” Venus responded.

Ink squinted at the other for a moment, before deciding that they were telling him the truth. He knew that Nightmare didn’t lie with every breath, though the creative guardian didn’t trust the bastard at all. He sent the other a warm smile “Well, this has been a very enlightening talk. It’s just… It’s a pity that you are Nightmare’s child, haha. I was almost convinced that you actually love my son. Goodbye.” He struck as confusion filled the younger being, their movements slowed to the point where Ink was able to strike them down.

Venus had managed to dodge just enough to avoid a completely fatal blow, and the other screamed, their magic reverberating around the castle as a wave of pure negativity hit Ink hard, sending the creative guardian staggering backwards and falling to his knees.

Nightmare himself teleported in, confusion and fear on the other’s face at the gaping, paint-splattered wound, hissing as a couple of tentacles wrapped protectively around his child. “Ink-” The other growled, lunging for the creative guardian.

“Pfhaha… Good luck keeping your child from dusting, Nightmare. Perhaps now you will know the pain that you have inflicted on countless others. Ciao~!” Ink purred, a feral grin on his face as he teleported out of the room, reappearing next to Heelies - who was running towards the dying Venus. “Heeelies, my darling son! Time to come home!” Ink ordered, flicking his magic over his son, even as the other tried and failed to dodge, the other’s form losing cohesion as he turned into a purple puddle, the other’s soul floating on top. He scooped the other up and gently put him in a magically protected mason jar. “You be a good boy now and try not to reform. Papa’s got you. I’ll make sure that you’ll be all better. Besides, the wicked creature who stole your heart won’t be distracting you any more. Papa made sure of that.” With that, he teleported out of the AU, dodging several different bone and blaster attacks from Nightmare’s furious lieutenants.

Heelies was safely ensconced in his arms, bubbling and shifting in the jar in great distress, but the other would settle down soon enough. Ink was sure of that “Shhh… It’s okay… Papa’s got you… Shhh… Things will get better, I promise…”

#my writing #ink sans #venus #heelies #nightmare sans #tw attempted murder #tw kidnapping

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meleuki · 5 years ago

Text

g2k me uncomfortably well

1. What is your middle name?

It’s my grandmother’s first name. I’m not gonna say what it is tho.

2. How old are you?

I am an age.

3. When is your birthday?

31st of March, same day as Angus Young hell yeah.

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Aries

5. What is your favourite colour?

Black, Purple & Red.

6. What’s your lucky number?

1,714 (long story).

7. Do you have any pets?

I have one little dog, he’s cute asf.

8. Where are you from?

Australia.

9. How tall are you?

5′4/5′5, I can’t tell most of the time.

10. What shoe size are you?

US 9 or 10

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

um like 12, but I only wear about 5 of them regularly.

12. What was your last dream about?

some dude turning into this cannibalistic animal type thing & me becoming friends with two ghost boys who murdered a bunch of people, and then got murdered and having to figure the rest of the case out for them. (supernatural has kinda been rubbing off on my dreams lmao.)

13. What talents do you have?

I can play guitar and piano. I can cook pretty good?? I also have a talent for being a dumb ass.

14. Are you psychic in any way?

I don’t believe I am.

15. Favourite song?

atm, Enter Sandman by Metallica

16. Favourite movie?

IT (2017), or, Scream.

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

oh golly, I don’t know actually. I just think I need someone who has some confidence, a kind soul and an open mind, and is able to put a smile on my face even when i dont want it. So far, I haven’t met someone who has caught my eye, but i hope one day I do.

18. Do you want children?

Yes, YES.

19. Do you want a church wedding?

no I don’t. I want one in a garden area type thingy.

20. Are you religious?

i’m not sure.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

yeah like 4-5 times.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

nope, I don’t plan on it.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

I haven’t.

24. Baths or showers?

both

25. What color socks are you wearing?

I’m not wearing any.

26. Have you ever been famous?

pft, nope.

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

I would, but only for the reach of my music.

28. What type of music do you like?

Rock ‘n Roll, Blues, Jazz, Indie, Classical, Punk, etc. (pretty much anything)

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

I have never.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

four. two under my head, and two on the side of my bed.

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

i’m either on my right or my left side, one leg up so my knee is diagonal with my stomach and one stretched out, one hand at my chest and one arm resting over my side.

32. How big is your house?

one story, medium size ish.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

coffee... and maybe sometimes I’ll have a smoothie.

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

yeppp, I have. It was ages ago tho.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

I’ve only really ever done archery on summer camps or school camps. Although I was pretty good at it whenever I tried.

36. Favourite clean word?

spellbinding

37. Favorite swear word?

F U C K

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

Maybe a little over two days.

39. Do you have any scars?

I do. Some on my knees, a lot on my back and my hips. My fingers are pretty scratched up a lot too.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

‘scuse me what? no, never.

41. Are you a good liar?

Indeed I am. But I don’t like to lie.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I’d like to think I’m good at reading people.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

I can do a pretty generic American accent and a stupid posh British one.

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I’d say I don’t, especially hearing me compared to some other Australians - my accent isn’t strong at all. You can definitely tell where I’m from though.

45. What is your favourite accent?

Russian, or German.

46. What is your personality type?

Chaotic dumb bitch, who rants about nature, peace and love.

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

um, my macpac jacket, which was like $300. (It was also a birthday present from my mum, and she worked there at the time so it was cheap.)

48. Can you curl your tongue?

I think I can??

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

Innie.

50. Left or right-handed?

right-handed. A bitch can do jack shit with her left.

51. Are you scared of spiders?

I used to be, I kinda want a pet tarantula now tbh.

52. Favourite food?

Chicken noodle soup, fight me.

53. Favourite foreign food?

Lasagne.

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

Usually, I’m pretty messy, I can’t work in an environment that is completely clean, but somedays I just like to clean shit up.

55. Most used phrase?

“Sorry, what?”

56. Most used word?

definitely, “bro”.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

if a shower is included, like an hour. But without a shower, like 20mins.

58. Do you have much of an ego?

No, I don’t.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

Suck them. (how tf you gon taste a lollipop if you bite it??)

60. Do you talk to yourself?

All the fucking time. When I’m writing I talk myself through the story by mumbling the words to myself a lot. Other times I might be doing the dishes, getting dressed or doing something mundane and I’ll just begin to have a conversation with myself.

61. Do you sing to yourself?

bitch yes, all the fucking time.

62. Are you a good singer?

I like to think that I’m okay.

63. Biggest Fear?

Losing my ability to see.

64. Are you a gossip?

No, unless the person in question has done something shitty to me or a close friend, AND I will only talk about with a close friend.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

The Perks Of Being A Wallflower

66. Do you like long or short hair?

I don’t mind either way, but long hair makes my knees weak.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

bitch, HAHAH, nope.

68. Favourite school subject?

English, but really only when we’re doing creative writing.

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Smack me right in the middle.

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

nope, never ever, and I never plan on it.

71. What makes you nervous?

A lot of shit, not gonna lie.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

yES, the dark stems from my main fear, loss of my sight. I can’t be in control of the situations around me.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

depends what kind of mistakes we’re taking here.

74. Are you ticklish?

yes, and I fucken hate it.

75. Have you ever started a rumour?

I don’t think I ever have. Maybe accidentally?

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

people call me a mum? So, I guess?

77. Have you ever drank underage?

wtf no, who do u think I am wtf???? JK, yes, all the time. Whenever I get the chance.

78. Have you ever done drugs?

ask @xx-kurt-cocaine--xx .

79. Who was your first real crush?

Some dude named Tyler, he turned out to be an ass tho.

80. How many piercings do you have?

Just my ears, but I want like four more.

81. Can you roll your R’s?

a little, but only for like two seconds.

82. How fast can you type?

@livewiredroger tells me I’m an aggresive typer so, I guess I’m pretty fast at punching the fuck outta my keyboard.

83. How fast can you run?

ok, kinda hate running, it hurts my tits. But I’m a sprinter, long-distances kill me.

84. What colour is your hair?

black, dark brown and honey brown. I dyed it black and it’s growing out, looks cool tho so I don’t mind.

85. What color is your eyes?

blue, green, grey. I don’t know which one, I’ve been told all of them too many times.

86. What are you allergic to?

nothing that I know of. Pretty sure I’ve got an intolerence to mushrooms tho, and dairy does weird things to my stomach.

87. Do you keep a journal?

I do, I haven’t written in it in a few weeks tho. Reading back through my depressive episodes isn’t a fun trip.

88. What do your parents do?

job-wise? They’re both teachers for primary school kids.

89. Do you like your age?

I guess? I dunno.

90. What makes you angry?

A lot of things, but I’ve learnt to control it, mostly.

91. Do you like your own name?

I don’t hate it.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

I have. Boy names; East, Patrick, Samuel. Girls names; Piper, Lila, Milan.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

I would love a boy. If I had a girl I would love her all the same. But right now, a boy is what I have in mind.

94. What are you strengths?

kill em with kindness

95. What are your weaknesses?

I can be very forward, or very frustrated.

96. How did you get your name?

my mum just turned to my dad and was like, “hey what about this?” and my dad was like, “yup, sure thing.”

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

NAh.

98. Do you have any scars?

I answered this one already?

99. Colour of your bedspread?

blue and beige.

100. Colour of your room?

One wall is aqua blue, the others are white. Mostly blue aesthetic I guess.

I tag: @guns-n-crue @gretavanyeeeeet @solohqrry @punkslap @livewiredroger

@antheasnow @malibubarbievince

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keyofjetwolf · 6 years ago

Text

The Chosen: All the notes and answers to shit you wondered about for years

Hey. Hi there. How are you? I’m good, thanks for asking.

So, you remember when, at the beginning of the year, I said I was officially retiring my Buffy the Vampire Slayer continuation, The Chosen? If this is the first you’re hearing of it, a) SORRY TO DROP THAT ON YOU, and b) you may want to read this post first.

All caught up? Awesome.

I told you guys I’d share my stuff. This right here is that. I’ve searched through countless backups, terabytes of data, the remnants of three computers, AND MY SOUL (not really my soul; it doesn’t have a convenient find option), and I think this is everything. If there’s anything left of The Chosen that isn’t contained here, then it’s almost certainly lost to time and I wave it a fond farewell.

But don’t worry. There’s a lot here.

What I have for you are all the notes, plans, and ideas that I had written during the time when The Chosen was pretty much my entire world. From late 2003 to mid 2005, I was on my Buffy creative shit, and OH THE PLACES I WANTED TO GO. I’m not sure I’ll ever not be sad that, in the end, I couldn’t do it the way I wanted. Still, I’m glad to finally be showing you where we were heading.

I’ll try to give this as much order as I can, but my notes were strewn across a mass of files, and in some cases, I straight up can’t remember what the fuck I even meant any more. Feel free to ask if you have questions! Just be prepared that the answer may have to be an apologetic shrug.

I’m not sure what to wish for you all in the reading here. Closure, of some kind, I suppose is what we’re really all after. So closure it is! Happy closing, friends.

Thank you so much for allowing me to have captured your interest and attention, and for accompanying me and these characters I loved on the journey toward the ending I hoped for them.

** Any comments from present-me will be marked in this format. Otherwise, everything is untouched from how I wrote it whenever-the-fuck ago. Section headers are either as I named them at the time, or taken from the file name.

S8 Ideas

General Ideas

Rogue Slayer girl ' 'Full Circle'; Faith-centric.

Possessing demons ' personification of control ' W&K breakup episode.

Xander gets powers, but in exchange for his humanity. Comes to realize that his humanity is what his friends need, and he gives up the power.

Dawn's key powers are reawakened ' ability to unlock and enter doorways to parallel dimensions/realities and back again. Episode where this happens and she visits a parallel world (where she is the Slayer?). Possibly triggered by Doc, seeking to reawaken Glory?

Monster that eats body parts to rejuvenate them.

Emotion sucker.

Incubus that tries to seduce Buffy in her dreams.

Siren/rock group ' playing in club.

Faith/Buffy/other Slayers hunted for sport.

Super Slayer, enhanced by the DC. Big Bad? Guinea pig.

Legion of Super Slayers, created from life force of girls who reject the offer to join the DC.

Things to Name and Figure Out

The name of the new town.

New town is in center of three-Hellmouth triangle, consisting of Cleveland, Ohio, Syracuse, NY, and Washington DC. The gang is settled in a fictitious town in Pennsylvania, not far from Williamsport.

Name derived from three? Trinity, Trillium, etc.

The name of the Bronze replacement. (The Vortex?)

The name (and personality) of Kennedy's new Watcher.

The name (and personality) of the turncoat (the girl Giles talks to in Ep #1)

The name (and personality) of the girl Faith recruits (future cannon fodder)

Better name for the Dark Council.

Better name for the Dark Coven.

Assorted Ideas and Quotes

Scene: Someone shopping at a local bulk warehouse place. How much to Slayers eat? A LOT.

Possible use for the drug from "Helpless" that neutralizes Slayer powers?

Scene: Junior Slayers fighting monster. One says "You ARE the weakest link... Goodbye!" The others make fun of her for using such an outdated pop culture reference. She pouts that they should add a class about banter to the Slayer curriculum.

QUOTE: "D'you ever think sometime we should, you know, run AWAY from the blood curdling screams?"

QUOTE: Buffy doubts Tara's return. Willow: "What, you hold exclusive resurrection rights?"

QUOTE: Tara and Dark Coven guy. Tara: "She'll kill me. After I do this...Buffy will kill me." DC: "After you do this, will you care?"

QUOTE: "Excessive? I think you and excessive have already met in a head-on collision and exchanged insurance information."

QUOTE: Tara talking about doing stuff with Dawn: "You know, shopping, getting our hair done ... girl things." Willow: "I like your girl things."

QUOTE: Someone's sick, but denying it. They cough, get an accusing glance. "I just have something stuck in my throat." "Yeah, it's called ILLNESS."

QUOTE: Faith to somebody, possibly a young Slayer, who goes on at length about what they're going to do to a bad guy or deal with some serious challenge or something similar. "You're full of crap, you've got no idea what you're talking about. (beat) But you mean what you say, so that's gotta count for something."

Notes

1st ep

fate of SS's

Dawn's powers

X taking Watcher's courses

G distancing

W going to grad school

B/T going back to school

prophecy bits

G gets ring

Buffy bit - blood

Ante released

Season 9 Ideas

based on 7 samurai - group of people want to come in and hire the seven to clean something out

something happens where buffy or dawn disappears and the other goes to find them

core four have notoriety as evil forces (four horsemen) with some other community

sdhs reunion episode

"Demon that draws strength from guilt, hate, love, etc. Especially bad if it gets hold of Faith..."

---

I had a really cool thought about Buffy and relationships while I was in there though, which I think I'll have to work into The Chosen.

A common thread in each of her big relationships (Angel, Riley, Spike) is that when she tells them she loves them, they don't believe her.

Well Angel does, but he doesn't think she loves him enough. When he leaves, it's despite her telling him over and over that she loves him enough that him being a vampire and them not being able to do "normal" things doesn't matter. He doesn't believe her, and so leaves.

Riley tells Buffy during their big pre-him-leaving fight, that when she says she loves him, he "doesn't feel it". His disbelief in her and her words causes him to leave.

Then there's Spike. Final episode, Buffy finally tells him that she loves him. "No you don't. But thanks for saying it." And then he dies.

At this point in Buffy's life, there are a lot of reasons why Buffy wouldn't want a relationship in my opinion. But not the least of which is the fact that she MUST be able to answer the question of why none of these guys she loves ever believe her? (Even if you don't think she did love Spike, to Buffy I doubt that would matter -- HE didn't believe her EITHER [and how dare he not believe me, by the way!]).

It's a concept I just managed to sort out (in the shower, of course), and I don't think it's an "obvious" connection, but I do think it's an extremely valid one. I think before I'm done, I'll have to work this into the story somehow. And not resolve it, because I don't think it's easily resolved, and I think it's an issue outside the scope of what I'm trying to do, but I think the issue should be raised.

Season 9 Episode Ideas

Episode where everybody speaks in rhymes. Possible reintroduction for Faerie character?

De-aging episode, Giles' 50th birthday. Courtesy of Ethan Rayne. ("Many Happy Returns"?) Zaps Giles, Willow, Buffy and Xander back to four or five or so, leaving Tara, Faith and Dawn to look after them.

Episode dealing with the murderers in the group: Faith, Willow and Giles. Finch's son/daughter hunts down Faith to (confront? get revenge?) for his death. Sub-plots for Willow/Warren and Giles/Ben. Interesting to note that Faith is the only one who has ever shown any regret for her murder.

Herculean labors parallel. Xander? ("Labor Day"?)

Seven deadly sins with each main character embodying one of the sins? The one least like themselves?

Buffy: Greed

Willow: Sloth

Xander: Pride

Giles: Envy

Tara: Wrath

Dawn: Lust

Faith: Gluttony

Some other Slayer in the past, fighting an enemy that arises today. The gang have to read through the old Watcher's diaries to learn about him and how she defeated it. Shows this old Slayer and her Watcher via flashback. Maybe our Big Bads?

The characters get sent into Faerie Tales where they're forced to sort of act out the tales they're in.

Inanimate creation of some sort (puppet like) who makes other inanimate objects come to life. Specifically mannequins, by switching them out for real people. Some Scoobies, of course, fall victim to this.

Xander getting set up on blind dates. Amusing segment where Xander explains to date after date about what happened to his eye, each reason becoming more and more outlandish. Finally he just gives up and tells the truth - "It was gouged out by a crazy preacher man." The date laughs: "You're so funny!" Could end with Xander getting fixed up with the girl we introduced in S8 and possibly have seen a few times since then - Xander's love interest.

Revisit ideas: nameless, faceless army for the good guys, what are we doing with our army?

Tara dealing with family issues. Why am I back? Madrigan as new father.

Banan the collector

Alt world where Core4 seen like 4 horsemen (Title: "The Four"?)

Conversation where some characters are guessing who would've been the next successor to the Slayer line.

"Other side" episode with dead characters

Buffy/Dawn ep about Buffy's role in Dawn's life. Seeing the others intreract with her, wondering what her place is in Dawn's life. Parallel with flashbacks about VS and her sister. Starts with Buffy finding Grip and Dawn making out, leads to Buffy giving Dawn "the talk" and failing miserably. ("Sometimes, after you and a guy ...... they CHANGE.") Dawn learns nothing, goes to Tara from there, who knows nothing about having sex with a guy, but is supportive and encouraging. Buffy overhears and then begins to try to find how she fits into Dawn's life. We learn at the end that although B/D are vastly different from the VS and her sis, the bond is still just as strong.

Willow (and Tara) meeting up with Willow's parents again.

Big Bads

Vampires, return to the simpler times a bit. Not apocalyptic, but personal. Female vamp with a real mad-on for Buffy. Pissed because Buffy failed to save her? Also possibly some sort of vampire army. Fem is a modern-day Sun Tzu, right hand to this guy in charge of everything.

Addition (3Jul04): After some discussion, we're leaning toward making the femvamp a Slayer who was turned waaaay the heck back when. Possibly held or captured by some other vampire later on in life, and she was released by the head of the army, thus earning her allegiance. Maybe she's Japanese and thus very honourable? If we take her from 1600 or 1700's Japan, that might work out well. Might also give added weight to why her soul has no bearing on halting her quest for vengeance - honor demands that her sister's death be avenged. Possible imagery: maybe she was tortured by whoever held her? The mental image of big ol' cross scar over her eye is intriguing.

Season 9 Episode Chart

Notes

Need to work out (soon!) everybody's hell stuff so it can be incorporated into earlier episodes.

Willow versus hacker vamp idea. Why? What's at stake? Possible fill for humour ep at 9x16?

Corollary: Replot Willow's arc through S9 and possibly into S10.

Get new prophecy for Giles.

Work in at least one other prophecy stanza this season. Important to figure out soon. Who, when, how?

** This was a chart which doesn’t translate well to Tumblr, so I’ll break the cells apart and show column separation with ||

Updated - 22 June 2005

Ep # || Monster/Conflict || Plot Developments || Focus

9x01 || Vamps || Buffy kills Hitakno || Group

9x02 || Dante || Faith comes home || Faith

9x03 || Slone || Sunnydale HS reunion in LA || Group

9x04 || Vamps/Demons || Yuugana arrives in Trillium, Xander quits the Council || Xander

9x05 || Belastung || Tara goes home. || Tara

9x06 || Ethan || Giles birthday, Scoobies regressed || Giles

----------------- NOT YET AIRED -----------------

9x07 || Slayer || Demon girl on run from Slayer. Buffy and Slayer at moral odds. Dawn key powers awaken fully. || Buffy/Dawn

9x08 || Amy || Amy cashes in on Willow's debt. (Fake) Buffy accompanies. || Willow

9x09 || D'Hoffryn || Xander makes a wish that Anya hadn't died. || Xander

9x10 || The Furies || The Furies drive Finch's child to revenge. While they're here, they decide to spread the love. || Faith/Giles

9x11 || ??? || Funny episode - Camping trip? || Group(??)

9x12 || Yuugana || Faith visits Hazel's parents (Xander accompanies). Upon return to Trillium, is attacked and nearly killed by Yuugana. || Faith/Xander

9x13 || Yuugana/General || Sister's parallel. Buffy and Dawn, Yuugana and Hitanko. Yuu's backstory. General arrives, drains Willow and Dawn. || Yuugana/Buffy

9x14 || Yuugana/General || Buffy insists that the gang re-ensoul Yuugana. They do so; it makes no difference. Buffy attacked, put in coma. || Buffy/Group

9x15 || Antediluvian || In an effort to save Buffy, Tara, Xander, Dawn and Kennedy go in search of Ruth, and the Antediluvian. || Tara/Group

9x16 || ??? || Funny episode - ??? || Willow(??)

9x17 || The General || The General's plans come to fruition. || Group

9x18 || Giles' Demon || A demon Giles thought defeated years ago comes back to continue their arrangement. || Giles

9x19 || 7 Sins || The Seven Sins are unleashed on the Scoobies. || Group

9x20 || The General/Yuugana || The General releases Yuugana and they formulate a new plan involving Dawn. Yuugana kills the General and takes Dawn as bait. || Group(?)

9x21 || Yuugana || Part 1. Yuugana takes Dawn into the Private Hell place where she was recently kept. The Scoobies must follow. || Group

9x22 || Yuugana || Part 2. The Scoobies fight their way through their personal hell. Buffy vs Yuugana. || Group

Original Chart

** “VS” stands for “vampiric slayer”, so Yuugana before she had a name.

Ep # || Monster/Conflict || Plot Developments || Focus

9x01 || Vamps || Buffy kills the VS's sister || Group

9x02 || Serial killer || Faith comes home??

9x03 || ?? || Sunnydale HS reunion in LA || ??/Group(?)

9x04 || ?? (vamps?) || VS arrives in Trillium || ??/Group(?)

9x05 || ?? || Tara goes home. VS denied immediate revenge. || Tara

9x06 || Amy || Amy collects on debt. Wants Will to help her get a book. || Willow/Buffy

9x07 || Ethan Rayne || Giles birthday/regression || Giles

9x08 || Doc || Dawn & Doc - Key powers fully awoken || Dawn

9x09 || Finch's child (furies?) || Murderers haunted by past || Faith (lesser: W, G)

9x10 || D'Hoffryn || Xander's wish (Anya) || Xander

9x11 || VS/?? || Sister's parallel episode || Buffy/Dawn

9x12 || Monster in woods || Camping trip (Tara and blade of grass) || Group

9x13 || VS || Buffy vs. VS -- VS ensouled, Buffy drained || Buffy

9x14 || VS minions(?) || Buffy injured. Group goes after Antediluvian || Tara/Group

9x15 || ?? || "Labor Day" (Kenn still around) || Xander

9x16 || artifact || 7 Deadly Sins || Group

9x17 || Computer Program || Willow and the computer program || Willow

9x18 || ?? || Faith visits Hazel's parents || Faith/Xander

9x19 || Demon || Demon that's possessed Giles. Comes every 10(?) years. || Giles

9x20 || General || Fight with General - General loses || Group

9x21 || Demon Dimension || Four Horsemen ("Four"?) [Abortive attempt by VS to separate Buffy from her strongest allies?] || B/W/X/G

9x22 || VS || Big battle -- Buffy vs. VS || Buffy/Group

Yuugana

need: how does Buffy come to believe what she does about Yuu? Conversation beforehand? Difficult. Why doesn't Yuu just kill her? Could make threat, but then Buffy is gambling with everyone, and makes no sense why Yuu nearly kills Buffy later. (Especially as threat will come when Buffy falls unconscious.)

Buffy must be able to draw conclusions ahead of time. Paint picture of Yuu that Buffy will be privvy to. Draw parallels b/w Buffy's life and Yuugana's life. Buffy will internalize.

NEED: When/How will gang find out that she is Yuugana? When will this name be dropped? How? May be good if we can draw General as being very, very powerful. They're afraid of him. Getting Yuu on their side would be huge in fighting him.

Idea: General nearly kills Dawn, draining key powers. Yuu saves her. Buffy thinks it is because Yuu knows what it's like to lose a sister. In truth, Yuu isn't ready for Dawn to die yet - that will be the most painful blow of all.

buffy believes -- utterly believes -- that Yuugana will be good if given her soul. Spike was good, Angel was good ... maybe all vampires can do good if given the chance? Who is she to be judge, jury and executioner?

Internalized: this could be me. What would I do if someone killed Dawn?

** I found two sets of Season 9 character arc notes. The first set are what I think what I was mainly working from, but I’m not 100%.

Character Emotional/Plot Arcs – Season 9

Season Theme: Consequences

Buffy

Will be target of the Big Bad’s wrath as a consequence of killing the BB’s sister early in the season. Buffy’s primary emotional arc will be in the realization that every action, even the most seemingly natural or inconsequential, has far-reaching repercussions, that affect not just Buffy but those she loves.

Willow

Willow’s emotional arc returns to one that was never resolved or given enough attention (or mangled thanks to magic=crack) – control issues. Throughout Willow’s history on BtVS, she’s exhibited time and again a deep NEED to control the things around her. Her need for this never changed, save for her becoming so paranoid she was afraid to breath for fear of killing everyone in S7. Her catalyst for these deep-seeded emotional problems re-emerging stem from a few basic changes. 1) Tara’s back, and Willow doesn’t think she can take losing her again. 2) The Big Bad has made things very, very personal. And Willow remembers only too well what happened last time a Big Bad vampire took things personal. 3) This Big Bad is smart. Really smart. In some ways, even smarter than Willow. And for all the enemies they’ve faced, Will’s never had to go against someone who’s been able to out think her before. And she freaks.

We’re going to have to be careful with this one, though, because we don’t want a return to “Willow Uses Way Too Much Magick” again. We’re therefore going to have to find others ways in which Willow exercises that control trigger finger. Her computer skills could certainly help out to a degree, as well as her smarts, but we’re going to have to be careful. We definitely don’t want a rehash of S6’s problems. Willow is – or very much should be – wiser than that now. And while Will has sort of always had a bad case of “the ends justify the means”, we don’t want a rehash. So care is needed.

We could help to show this by maybe having Willow do something like casting a really powerful protection spell that somehow backfires. What will be vitally important here is taking care to make it very clear that Willow isn’t relying on magick for every little thing (no spells for decoration or closing curtains) … the magick is simply her most powerful tool for keeping everyone safe. This should NOT be about black magick, but about a need for control.

NOTE (4Jul04): After discussions, will probably meld Will's character arc with the fact that Buffy and others (Tara and Giles probably excepted) don't fully appreciate or realize the pressures they put on Willow to come up with the answers and be the big gun, while simultaneously not wanting her to go too far. Magick is bad, except when they need it. They don't accept their own consequences for the actions they push her toward. This still feeds into Willow's character flaws above - her need to protect everyone, to be the best, to keep the nasty stuff at bay.

Xander

Xander, being the human element, will have the root of his emotional arc derive from one of the most basic of human desires: to live forever. Not in the biologically immortal sense, but by wanting to live on long after he’s died. Xander realizes that of all his friends, he is the one that history is least likely to remember. The odds on him being studied in school centuries from now are next to nothing. Buffy will be recalled as the world’s most successful Slayer. Willow as the witch whose spell changed the world. Giles as the founder of the new Watcher’s Council (and new world order?) Any history mentioning Willow is almost guaranteed to include Tara as well. Dawn and her Key potential is fascinating and going to be mentioned … but Xander? There’s nothing so remarkable about Xander, he feels, and thus begins his quest to somehow ensure his own immortality to history.

This might somehow be triggered by the emergence of a new sort of threat. With Slayers all over the world, there’s absolutely no way that NOBODY is going to notice them. Even if people in the Buffyverse have shown time and again that they’ll simply ignore what they either can’t or are unwilling to understand (gang related, PCP), not everybody is so willing to pull down the veil. Thus begins the emergence of a conspiracy theorist, someone who somehow has managed to trace his story to Slayer Central. In doing so, he somehow manages to put a level of importance on each of the Scoobies … except Xander. Which stings.

Xander would eventually come to realize that while history may not remember him, those he loves certainly will, and when all’s said and done, that’s enough for him.

Giles

Giles’ arc will come out of an inevitability – his age. One of the earliest episodes will be reflecting on the fact that Giles is now 50. He’s done such a good job with the Council that much of the bureaucracy continues without his direct involvement. He’s not really keen on that side of things anyway, so he’s not sorry to see it go. But what he does want to do instead is get into the thick of things physically. But, unfortunately, he simply can’t anymore, and it’s a lesson he very much doesn’t want to learn. Giles will ultimately come to realize, however, that while he can’t swing a sword to match the Slayer, what he DOES have is his incredible mind, which will certainly be put to great use in the confrontations with the Sun Tzu-like Big Bad. The fight could not be won without Giles’ intellectual input.

Tara

Tara will spend much of her arc wondering about her place. When she was alive, she had some difficulty in fitting in. And it wasn’t until just before her death that she really started to come into her own. A year and a half has passed now, however, and things and people have changed. Tara aspires to be more than just an extension of Willow, and as voiced in “Family”, she wants very much to feel useful to the Scoobies.

But Tara’s need to find where she fits extends beyond simply within the Scoobs. Tara has a very definite sense of nature and balance, and her being brought back from the dead is something of an abhorrence to her. She can’t quite shake the feeling that in order for her to have been brought back, something had to go out in her place to keep the balance. What that may have been disturbs her beyond words.

How exactly these issues become resolved is currently unclear. Tara should certainly remain the moral and emotional center of the Scoobies. She has more power now, but power was always Willow’s contribution, not Tara’s. On the death thing, perhaps something mystical helps her? Maybe the big Wicca chick we bring in at the end of S8 can help somehow? Show that Tara’s coming back was, in its own way, as natural as her passing was UNnatural. Her return is, in and of itself, a righting of the scales.

Dawn

This is a big year for Dawn. She’s a senior in high school. She’s turning 18. She’s becoming an adult. Oh, yeah, and she’ll finally figure out that she’s got all those Key powers still. Dawn’s story will be about transitions. From childhood to adulthood, from being just a normal (as normal as she could be) girl to having all those powers as the Key and whatever that implies for her. We will also need to decide this year where Dawn’s going to college (her awakening Key powers could be a good excuse to keep her local).

Faith

Faith’s story is going to be about guilt. Hazel’s death at the end of the previous season happened right before we ended the whole thing, so at that point we will have gotten to see precious little carryover. This is the time to dwell on that. Faith would feel tremendous guilt over Hazel’s death – Faith is the one who recruited Hazel, who brought her there. She was Hazel’s mentor, and Hazel sacrificed herself for Faith. We don’t want to retread over the “do I belong here?” line, since we’re dealing with that in S8, but Faith should certainly be questioning whether or not she should be leading little girls into dangerous battles. It’s one thing for Faith to risk her life night after night, but another entirely to be responsible for the lives and deaths of others. Unsure how this will resolve, but it seems the logical arc for Faith given the closing of the previous season.

Big Bad

NOTE: We’re going to have to come up with a really good reason why Willow just doesn’t ensoul the vamp chick … or she does and it makes no difference at all. Could be an interesting commentary about vampires and souls. Hm.

The more we’re discussing this, the more we’re liking this idea. The notion of souls in the Buffyverse has always been sort of hazy at best. Loosely, they seemed to be of the opinion that getting a soul somehow made you good … but there are countless number of humans in the world (and the Buffyverse – look at Warren) who are human and, one therefore assumes, have a soul. Yet they are still capable of great evil. Even more so than some demons that they encounter. So despite however neat and pat Buffy likes to make it sometimes, a soul does NOT automatically mean that someone is going to be good. And maybe that throws her for a hell of a loop. Willow ensouls the BB, but it doesn’t make one bit of difference. Vengeance is, after all, as much a human emotion as anything else, and the BB still wants Buffy to suffer horribly for what she’s done. At most, the BB may feel some measure of guilt for the people that she’s had to kill over the past 300 or 400 years (however long she’s been vamped), but as it turns out, she doesn’t. She looks at it with the detached, cold impracticality possessed by Slayers – she did what she had to in order to survive. Maybe she wasn’t a fan of torture (we’re painting her very logical and such, so this should work okay), and simply did what she needed to. The Slayer in and of itself is very predatorial and most definitely a survivor – there’s not necessarily much difference between them, and this will further demonstrate that fact.

This could also further add to Willow’s continued feeling of being out of control. This SHOULD have worked and didn’t.

Season 9 Character Arcs

Buffy:

Buffy's arc will deal with a continuing gray area between what is good and what is evil. What is a soul really? Does having a soul make you good by default? The vampiric Slayer will prove that's not necessarily the case. Additionally, Buffy will be trying to sort out a few things about her life. What does she ultimately want to do? She could very well be the first Slayer in history to die of old age. Does she want to be involved with that all her life, or does she want more? Would Buffy maybe like to return to school? (Might be fun to have her and Tara going back to school together.) Around midway point, Buffy is nearly drained to death by vamp Slayer, she must rely on others to take care of her - doesn't always have to be the strong one.

Willow:

Willow will come to the realization that her magick is of no use against the Big Bad this year. What is Willow without her magick? What else can she contribute? Progressively, other things may fail as well, so that Willow is systematically deconstructed and having to find her true purpose and how she can contribute outside of her raw power.

Xander:

Xander will explore his roles this season. He's said that he won't be forgotten or shoved aside, so then the question becomes, how will he contribute? It's up to Xander to answer this question. He tries his hand at a variety of roles - maybe a Watcher, maybe a husband (though he's already "failed" at that one). Come the end, he realizes that his role is support, and it's the role he's always fallen into naturally.

Giles:

Giles is pulling away from the others. He's beginning to see the Slayers as nameless, faceless people. He realizes that he'll have to sacrifice them - and some part of himself - again at some point in the future, so he's subconsciously distancing himself from the pain. He's slowly becoming the Old Council. Comes to realize that while he may have to distance himself from the body as a whole, it doesn't mean he shouldn't have any attachments at all. And that he can be those two people - the one that can love them, but still sacrifice them for the greater good if necessary (which will work, as Giles will ultimately sacrifice himself, NOT for the greater good but because he doesn't want them to die). ** Which may be a good time to point out that I was going to kill Giles next season, kisses.

Tara:

Tara's quest this year will be for her place. She's died and come back, but this isn't "right". There is a balance in things, and she feels she's upset that balance. She'll explore her past and her family to find out why, in a grander sense, she's back and how she fits in now.

Tara and Willow:

Tara discovers that Willow has somewhat enshrined her as a result of her death and return. Willow caves to Tara almost constantly, and it's beginning to affect them both, but Willow can't bring herself to fight with Tara as a result of what happens every time they fight. She doesn't want Tara to go away again. They must fight, they have to learn that it's okay. Tara pushes it with Willow and makes it happen. Maybe when Tara goes to visit her family, that's the catalyst.

Dawn:

Dawn becomes victim of the time-old adage, "be careful what you wish for". She's always wanted to be a Scooby, but now that's beginning to conflict with her other desire to be a regular teenaged girl and her other big desire: to be an adult. All these worlds are colliding and Dawn's not sure which is more important. Blows off Scooby things for friend-things sometimes. Blows off friend-things for Scooby-things.

Re Grip: They're getting closer, but she keeps having to put off things with him due to Scooby situations. Grip notices and (kindly) confronts her, wondering if she really just doesn't want to see him anymore but doesn't know how to tell him. When he finds out about the baddies, he'll back away, needing time to process. Poor Dawnie.

Faith:

Faith will spend the season getting back onto the redemptive path she's been on for years. She doesn't feel bad that she killed Judith and is wondering what the means (somewhat like when her mother died). She'll learn that just because she's stumbled doesn't mean she's fallen. She begins in England, hiding out from Trillium. Thinking she should go solo, it was easier when she didn't have anyone else to worry about. Doesn't want to go back, but Kennedy pushes her. Once back, Faith avoids everyone. Should Giles maybe get Faith into therapy?

Buffy agitated that Faith isn't really being punished. Faith points out that a lot of people around Buffy are killers and they've never been punished either. Buffy needs things black and white, Faith is another shade of grey and it's getting harder and harder for her to do her job.

Xander gets to the heart of things too much, and Faith doesn't want to deal with that. Finally it's Willow who lets Faith know that there's someone who DOES understand. It's the first step in getting Faith back into things, but she still doesn't want to teach.

Maybe at some point in the season, Faith takes off? If so, Xander should probably pursue. (Might tie in nicely to Xander's "what's my role?" arc. Perhaps he has a job interview or something that he can't miss out on that will further define him, but he misses it because he has to help Faith, and that's the choice he makes) Could be where Hazel's death gets resolved. Goes to Hazel's house and parents for that?

Faith's murder issue will probably come to a head when she's face-to-face with Finch's child. Kid wants revenge, and Faith understands that. States how it won't make anything better, but gives up and says that if s/he wants it so bad, just take it. S/he doesn't, of course, which would probably disappoint Faith to a degree.

Maybe show Faith just starting to teach again at the end of the season, rather than some big culmination. Maybe she's forced into it when the VS keeps the other Slayers occupied? Buffy would be elsewhere at the time.

The Big Bad

** These are some of my earliest notes, as reflected in how I’m using my placeholder names like “Dark Coven”. A lot of it deals with what happened in S8, but it outlines the larger arc, which would have come to a head in S10.

What the Bad Guys Want

The Dark Coven is seeking to reawaken The Old Ones. As per Giles in “Welcome to the Hellmouth", the Old Ones were driven out when the lost their "purchase" on this reality. The last vestiges of the Old Ones fed on a human, mixed their blood, and created the first vampire. This proves that humans were around during the time of the Old Ones. He also states that vamps, demons and some magicks are leftovers from the time of the Old Ones.

The Dark Coven is a group that has been around since the time of the Old Ones. They are in allegiance with them, and are currently seeking to free them. In their current incarnation, they are very, very close (comparatively speaking). The Old Ones are sealed away somewhere by a series of extremely intricate locks, well nigh impenetrable. But they actually are already well on their way to opening them.

More than anything else, the DC is a master of manipulation with OODLES of patience. They've been working on freeing the Old Ones since their imprisonment. As is eventually revealed, they have been twisting events with the Scoobies for years, bringing them to the point where the Old Ones are ready to be freed.

When the Old Ones Roamed

They were, quite simply, lords of their domain. They are few in number, but unfathomably powerful. As with many nigh-omnipotent beings, however, they became bored and complacent. They began to tinker with things and began creating demons, unleashing them on the world. The demons, however, were little more than slaves, and no matter how evil, nothing much likes being enslaved. The demons, together with humans (quite possibly including the Shadow Men from "Get it Done") were able to ensnare the Old Ones -- you can't kill them, but they were imprisoned. Once the Old Ones were gone, their power slowly vanished, diminishing their partners/lackies/etc. (like the DC), and leaving the created demons and humans to fight over the rest of the land.

Season 6 Manipulation

The DC, although powerful, are themselves, collectively, unable to open the remaining locks (if they could ever open any at all). However they soon discovered one girl, Willow Rosenberg, who had the innate ability to channel the energies necessary to set things into motion. She just needed the right motivation to get the power.

Exactly how far their manipulation into these events goes, we don't know. What is for certain is that they fixed it so that Tara would be shot and killed by Warren's stray bullet. (The reasoning for this idea: there's absolutely no way the bullet could have possibly killed Tara in the way it did. Warren was in the backyard, running away and shooting upwards. Tara was standing by the bedroom window on the second story. The bullet shot through the glass, and through her, at no angle at all. Obviously in-show this was done for dramatic purposes, but they left a door open for outside creative interpretation and I’m going through it.)

As they knew it would, this prompts Willow to become hell-bent on revenge and absorb enough power to destroy the world. She goes to Kingman's Bluff, raises the effigy of Proserpexa, and begins to funnel her energies into it. Had she done this enough, she would have raised one of the Old Ones herself (or Proserpexa could have take the next step in unlocking one of the doors), however Xander interceded and saved Willow before this could happen.

NOTE: Perhaps Xander's interception is what was actually needed here? I always found it interesting that he completely blocked and seemingly absorbed all that power Willow was throwing at the effigy without even blinking. Was this maybe super-charging him for something? Could this maybe be key to what they will need to save him from later on? (S10 stuff.)

The Proserpexa angle maybe have been removed, but the DC didn't mind -- Willow had now unlocked enough of the power within herself to open another lock.

Season 7 Manipulation

This stems from a whole lot of S7 never really standing up to much scrutiny. Take, for example, the scythe. Caleb and the First spend SO much time and energy in uncovering the scythe, claiming to know how very important it was to NOT allow Buffy & Co. to get it -- when if they hadn't even been trying to get it, Buffy wouldn't have ever known it was there. This in and of itself seems to make ZERO sense, particularly since it never seemed to be that the First could use the scythe himself -- it was all about keeping it from the Slayer. So, very stupid to not only sit on the darned thing, but to ACTIVELY BRING YOUR ENEMIES TO IT (the "trap" in "Dirty Girls" leads Buffy and the Slayers to the vineyard, They never would have bothered going there otherwise).

My reasoning: The First is also an Old One. And he set his plan up specifically to fail. He himself is immortal, he cannot die. And he doesn't really give a crap about ubervamps and Bringers. Their plan all along was to make the Scoobies unleash the scythe to awaken all the Slayers.

Why? As mentioned in "Get it Done", there is a well of Slayer power. That well is usually filled nearly to capacity. It was, after all, only being used by Buffy, and then Faith. The fact that the emergence of a second Slayer did nothing to diminish either's power indicates that it's not shared on that kind of level. In addition, the awakening of all the Slayers at the end of "Chosen" didn't seem to cause any sort of power drain. Instead, we theorize that the well is deep, but has a finite capacity. When Willow did the spell, she in essence pulled the stopper on the well and drained it dry. This well, however, happens to be one of the keys to freeing the Old Ones, and once it drops to a certain level, the "door" that it locks is open.

Moving on -- The Chosen

When Slayers die now, one is not called in their place. There is a finite number of Slayers in the world now. When they die, their Slayerness returns to the well. Only once it reaches a certain level (presumably it's "default" state, pre-spell) will the "natural" process resume. The DC obviously don't want this to happen, as once it "refills" to a certain point, the door will close again. Hence their working with the Assemblage of Merodoch (previously, "Dark Council"); by harnessing and funneling the Slayerness into an already existing Slayer, it does not return to the well, hence no refill.

But that isn't the only reason the DC are working with the Assemblage. The AoM also has another key: an angel that they're keeping chained up in the deepest sublevel of their headquarters. This angel has, perhaps, been around as long as the Old Ones themselves. Perhaps he even aided in imprisoning them. He was captured shortly thereafter, however, and has remained that way ever since (we're talking pretty close to pre-recorded history here, as long as the Slayer line has been in existence, possibly longer).

Idea: The angel can only be freed by a descendant of one who imprisoned him in the first place. Maybe a Giles?

He is a key -- maybe something he says? His true name, perhaps? The DC want him, but the AoM have him and won't give him up. They have said, however, that once Order is restored to the world, they will provide the DC with the means to do whatever they need to do with him. The DC is okay with this -- they're currently getting something from the Council (someone to alert them to the need to funnel Slayer energy and someone to keep all that tiresome business together while they focus on the really important stuff).

Like good ol' Willow Rosenberg.

They call Willow "The Sangerand" ("the bloody"), and they should absolutely not be done with her yet. Willow's independent further role, we don't yet know, but she commands their greatest amount of attention. Her, and Tara. ("The Curat", or "the pure"?)

When they resurrect Tara, it is ostensibly under the guise of killing Willow. However the true reason is to fulfill Tara's part of this prophecy (which includes her death, resurrection and making the choice to not kill Willow), possibly including the sharing of power that Willow will need to do to save them.

Thinking on it, it would be cool to have each Scooby play an important role somehow in all of this. Sort of like their being together in this way was a fated thing. "The Chosen" indeed.

**ADDENDUM** I really like this idea of each Scooby playing a particular role. This could still lead up to the eventual death of Giles, which in and of itself will provide the beginnings of the Coven's downfall. They do whatever they're doing to Xander, which will kill him - but that won't matter because his role in unlocking the door will be done. Will is going to be doing the spell to save him, which will kill her in turn, but that's okay too because her part is also played in releasing the Old Ones. Giles, however, has NOT yet done his part, and he completely surprises everyone when he takes Willow's place, thereby saving both Will and Xander. This totally throws the Coven for a loop, though obviously they must still be able to do what they need to without Giles, else their plans are over with right then and there. It's crucial that his sacrifice NOT be part of the DC's plans, else it takes away from its poignancy.

Will need some sort of prophecy-type thing detailing what is needed to be done to release the Old Ones. Should be nice and vague, but with meaning once you figure it out.

Scooby Designations

Willow: The Sangerand ("the bloody")

Tara: The Curat ("the pure")

Xander: The Vedere ("the sight"), The Asar ("all-seeing eye") -- "The Baani" ("The Architect" - Urdu)

Buffy: The Kusari ("the chain"), The Revenire ("the returned"), The Gula or The Bau ("Lady Who the Dead Bring Back to Life")

Giles: The Verhaal ("the history"), The Shoukin/The Infria, ("redemption"), The Shin'ar ("Land of the Watchers")

Faith: ("the dark"), ("the restrained"), ("the wild")

Dawn: ("the cherished"), ("the gateway"), ("the portal"), ("the key")

The Prophecy

Opening Quatrain

Buffy :: The Trimarga :: Three Path A heartbeat thrice begun A death mark thrice given All roads lead to the town of three When her spilled blood shall spill again

Willow :: The Sangerand :: The Bloody Blood flowing, blood taken Forces awoken, decline and ascent Blood given, life exchanged Freely, she will fall

Xander :: The Baani :: The Builder Grief and rage, life's destruction Mind and body, life's cohesion Heart and spirit, life's devotion Melding, merging; essence anew

Giles :: The Tezan :: The Way Forger of paths, the first and his kin The demon wields the plague of black Summoner, banisher Pierce the barrier, paths renewed

Tara :: The Curat :: The Pure Birth and rebirth, the cycle complete Connected to evil, untainted Power innate and power borrowed Through the light she will free the ancient one

Dawn :: The Amelatu :: The Gatekeeper Living energy made flesh and form Younger in life, older than death Truth altered, life shed And the walls will fall

The Slayer Well Solitary hunter, night's enemy She alone will stand When the well is drained and strength is shared One becomes Many

Closing Quatrain And so it is written Seven locks hold fast The masters expelled, the world cleansed Until the Chosen play their part

Seven keys for seven locks From the first to fall, five score and one If all locks turn, the door lay open And the Old Ones shall reclaim the Earth

Buffy: The Trimarga ("three path" :: the triple path of Knowledge [jnanayoga], Devotion [bhaktiyoga] and Action [karmayoga]). Three times her heart has started beating, three times she's been marked by a vampire (Angel, Dracula and the Vamp Slayer [yet to happen) and in town of threes(??). Something to do with blood - some of it needed to open the lock. Blood of a Slayer is already potent, and Buffy's was obviously enough to close the portal in place of Dawn.

Willow: The Sangerand ("the bloody"). Willow will cast a blood-sacrifice spell, that will enable her to willingly exchange her life for another. It has to be this spell based upon how Mads and the others are killing Xander. Very, very powerful, only she can do it. The flow of the energies will open the lock.

Xander: The Baani ('the builder"). Xander is the "incuabator" for two very powerful magicks. They don't impact him directly, but it is his nature - his very self - that will enable them to merge within him to create something new. The first blast came from Willow on Kingman's Bluff. The second, from the orb destroyed in "Win, Lose or Draw". Madrigan will take Xander around the mid-point of S10 to extract the magicks from him. It will kill him in the process, but that's of little concern.

Giles: The Tezan ("the way"). Giles' role is to obtain a ring that has been in his family for generations upon generations. Unknown to those recently, the jewel of the ring actually contains a demon - a demon that was the original cause of the Black Plague in the 1330's. Giles' ancestor, a powerful warlock for the Council, was the first human to pierce the barrier between this dimension and a demon dimension where he summoned a demon and bound it to his service. The demon was sent to China, where it was supposed to take out a group of other demonic creatures trying to open a Hellmouth there. It did indeed do that, but not before starting the plague. The Council, rather than destroy the ring and banish the creature, said "We'll control it better next time." The ring's purpose was eventually lost,. Giles is supposed to release and then banish the demon, again piercing the dimensional barrier and opening that lock. ** He dies instead, sacrificing himself to save both Willow and Xander. Oops.

Tara: The Curat ("the pure"). Tara's lock will open upon her freeing the Antediluvian. The Antediluvian is an angelic creature that was captured by Robespierre's ancestors. Its imprisonment means the lock is sealed - its freedom opens it. Tara is able to free it due to her lineage as a witch, her purity of spirit, her completed cycle of birth and rebirth, and (by binding with Willow) her immense white magick power creating the necessary conditions. Ruth, Tara's grandmother or great-grandmother, was also thought at one time to have been the Curat, but was not. However she does recognize the qualities within Tara. (Perhaps the Antediluvian, despite its imprisonment being a good thing, can do great good if it's released?) ** Later in S9, Tara and Co. would have freed the Antediluvian to save Buffy after Yuugana’s attack.

Dawn: The Amelatu ("the gatekeeper"). Dawn herself is able to open the lock. Not a lot of detail here. We'll need to sort out somehow or another that Dawn will do this ... or perhaps she already has? There seems to be little better time for Dawn to have opened the necessary lock than when all the dimensional walls were coming down.

Additional Lock: The well of Slayer power being drained. This was done by Willow in S7, but is not Willow's specific key.

Additional Info: Once any lock falls, there is a "timer" of 100 years for the rest to fall, or they all lock again.

** It may not escape notice that Faith is not part of this prophecy. That became by design, not oversight. I loved how this idea of “The Chosen” worked into the larger series theme, but I also hate the ideas of fate and destiny being controlling factors. Faith was going to be my argument against all that. When all the prophecy pieces were revealed, Faith would (rather defeatedly in her Faith way) note that she had no part to play. But she is the embodiment of being Chosen, as the characters choose to have Faith by their side and fuck prophecy anyway. Their unreserved acceptance of Faith, and Faith’s acceptance of THAT, would have been the culmination of her character arc in S10 (and my series).

S10 Ideas

Something to do with tarot cards, with each member maybe being a particular card?

Several characters get thrown back in time to an earlier season. Dawn especially should go, as she wasn't around then.

stained glass idea. couples. Buffy left free. Valentine's day ep.

"The Impossible Dream" - Man of La Mancha lyrics

Faith having conversation with Kendra -- result of illness, injury, or prophetic dream

** An episode I was definitely going to do, but frustratingly can’t find any notes for (making me feel there must be SOMETHING else out there somewhere but fuck me if I know where) had Willow and Tara going to Los Angels and visiting Lorne’s bar, Caritas.

S10 Ending

Everyone ends on a thematic note, their actions in the final battle bringing together 10 years of development:

Giles's sacrifice makes victory possible - by finally following his heart rather than his duty he saves the world.

Xander, by virtue (and surprise) of simply being Xander, strikes the final blow.

Willow succeeds only by keeping herself in check, refusing to break and believing that she can win.

Buffy's victories come from not only sharing herself (mentally to Willow and physically to Faith and Kennedy) but truly, finally, accepting that she's not in this alone.

Dawn makes the sacrifice she was destined to make from the moment she was created.

Tara is the touchstone, giving the strength and support to everyone else and the lifeline that ultimately saves Dawn.

Faith has no greater role handed to her by fate -- but she's here and kicking ass so screw you, fate.

(work on Kennedy, she ends up fighting w/ Buff and Faith, but does she start there? maybe she and Faith start with Tara and Dawn?)

IDEAS

Seneca final battle. He's winning. Standing over Buffy, gloating smile. Then he finally speaks. Something like, "I've waited a long time to--" Then he gets skewered (Faith or Kennedy, maybe both.) He can't say anything else, just gurgle. He dies, and the Slayers stand over him.

Buffy: "Blah blah blah. You know, just once I'd like to meet a bad guy who knows how to keep his mouth shut."

Kennedy: "No lie. Still, I wonder what he was going to say?"

Faith: "Who the hell cares?"

Buffy HAS to be part of final Madrigan fight. She goes initially with Xander and Willow. Xander gets struck down by Mads, seemingly dead. Buffy gets nailed too. Willow needs Buffy to get through this though, and Buff gives Will her strength (flashback to "Same Time Same Place" as well as early Chosen w/ Willow and Buffy being so attuned -- see, not a throw-away plot point! Planned all along!) Leads to good "final" conversation/bonding with them as they search for Madrigan in the mental plane.

Earlier in the season, Madrigan extracting the magick from Xander. Very painful for Xander. Madrigan talking to him though, very chatty, very casual. Xander trying to dig for info, Madrigan clearly seeing through it. He likes the cliche though (exposition while acknowledging how clunky and stupid it is to have exposition here). Mads being real bastard (passively though) to Xander this whole time, noting how Xander isn't even really important in and of himself, it's only what others do with him that counts (maybe include little side wink-nudge point, it's what's inside Xander that matters). Mads ends the conversation by apologizing. "Sorry dude, this has gotta suck for you. Hey, you know what I like to do when I'm down? TV! You like 'Murphy Brown'? I've been Netflixing it." He and Seneca proceed to sit down and watch while Xander is essentially tortured behind them. Mads just turns up the volume.

Season 10 Final Fight

Buffy, Kennedy and Faith will go after Seneca.

Willow and Tara will be walking along in the facility when they're attacked. Tara is thrown away from Willow, who is then going to be caught behind an impenetrable shield with Madrigan. He wants to face her alone on an astral plane of sorts. Tara can't join her. Willow is depowered somewhat as a result of the spell she was casting to save Xander. Madrigan wants to fight her, however. Will surprises him - she thought like him and figured he would do this. As a result, Xander is piggy-backing with her, and she's not alone. Madrigan says that he knows Xander, and Xander won't kill him. He's wrong. X: "He don't know me very well, do he?"

Meanwhile, the door to release the Old Ones is opening and they can't stop it. Or they think they can't. Dawn realizes that she, being the Key, can. She begins to do so, but it's taking so much power, it's essentially killing her. Dawn is reverting to pure energy form. Buffy screams at her, tells her not to, but Dawn says she's spent the past five years wondering - feeling, even - that she should've died on that tower. Now she knows that she wasn't supposed to die, she was supposed to live to do this. "This is the job that I have to do." Buffy can't stop her. Tara fights though, won't let Dawn go. Tara eventually passes out and Dawn disappears. The energy is gone and so is Dawn, but the door is closed and locked again.

Not long after, Buffy goes home. Willow and Xander are with Tara at the hospital (she’s drained but okay). Buffy seems to be alone. She's completely dispirited - Dawn is dead. She enters her room, only to find Dawn there. B: "What are you doing here?" Shades of Dawn's first appearance. Turns out (as we'll learn in the final episode) that Dawn has given up all of her Key powers - for real this time. She is now, completely and utterly, a very real, very normal girl.

** And finally, I give you all with this. It’s a rough sketch of the scene after Giles has died, so would have come about 2/3rd of the way through Season 10. I wrote this in 2004, about a week after the death of my grandfather. I like to think that, if I’d gotten that far, this would have been one of those moments that would have stuck with you. I certainly would’ve tried.

Giles Death Reactions

These are a sequence of silent scenes.

We first see Faith in a darkened training room. She's punching a punching bag.

We're in Giles loft, the lights all dark. The door opens, and Hannah's standing there, on the threshold. She doesn’t enter.

We're in a hospital, private room. There are two beds. The one on the far left contains Xander. He looks gaunt, pale, near death. But breathing. His heart monitor gives a steady readout. Dawn sits next to him, inbetween the two beds. Tears are streaming down her cheeks – simply falling, she's not sobbing. She watches Xander with a fearful, worried expression, then turns to the next bed. There's Willow, also pale and drawn. She doesn't look well either, though not quite as bad as Xander. Tara sits on the other side of the bed, as close to it as she can possibly get. One of Willow's hands is held up in both of hers, Willow's fingers resting on Tara's lips. Tara's eyes are red – she's obviously been crying too. She meets Dawn's gaze. Neither smile.

We're in Giles' office. Buffy is standing in the doorway. Her face is blank.

We're back in the loft, Hannah's position mirroring Buffy's. She walks inside and finds herself drawn toward Giles' stereo system. She runs her hands over the CD collection, full of albums and songs from their past.

Faith's punching of the bag increases. She's venting, her jabs more vicious, more focused. Over her shoulder, we see Kennedy watching.

The hospital. Dawn runs a hand through her hair and wipes her eyes after watching Xander intently. She turns to Willow and watches as Willow opens her eyes and blinks. Dawn watches in surprise, and Willow seems to sense the scrutiny. She turns to Dawn and smiles – just a small smile, a pained one, but it's something. Dawn's face breaks into an expression of pure joy and relief, and she says something. Tara has either been locked in thought or asleep, Willow's hand clutched to her forehead, but her head jerks up at Dawn's words. She focuses on Dawn for the briefest of moments before her eyes go back to Willow. Willow is already looking at her, and she smiles again, a bit stronger this time. Willow says something too, and it causes Tara to laugh. The laugh turns into a sob of relief though, and Tara kisses Willow's hand several times then leans over and kisses her forehead. Will is weak, but is able to give Tara a one-armed hug, kissing her on the cheek, then turning to Dawn and extending her other arm. Dawn is there in a heartbeat, also crying in relief.

Giles' office. Almost trancelike, Buffy moves further into the darkened office, which is lit only by the lamp on the desk. As she walks, her eyes are drawn to things. The rows and rows of books that Giles surrounded himself with. The bookcases that Xander built, not only filled with books but also decorated with knickknacks – various small statues and effigies and an Owl plushie. She looks to the opposite wall, where hangs a variety of pictures, but dominating them all, easily the biggest and with the proudest placement, is a picture of Giles, snapped at a moment none of them were expecting. He was obviously the victim of a random group hug attack – Buffy, Willow, Xander, Tara and Dawn, all hugging him fiercely. Giles has that look on his face where he's trying hard to be annoyed with them, but is secretly loving every moment. Buffy's movement into the office hasn't halted, hasn't slowed from its already snail's pace. She's at the desk now. Bathed in the warm glow of the lamp, she sees a cup of tea, only half-drunk, as though Giles will be returning any moment to finish it. Most prominent, however, are the sealed envelopes on the desk, several of them, each bearing a name. We see Buffy's name on the top one, and can see hints of other's beneath: Willow, Xander, etc. Giles' glasses rest nearby.

Faith is almost in a frenzy of kicks and punches now. Her teeth are clenched and she looks like she wants nothing more than to have the bag turn into the Grim Reaper himself so she can pound the crap out of him. A hand rests on her shoulder, and Faith whirls around to see Kennedy there. Faith looks like she might just start beating the shit out of Kennedy as well, but then Kennedy takes Faith's hand and puts a stake in it. Faith looks down at it questioningly, then looks to Kennedy. Kennedy holds up her own stake. Faith's eyes narrow and she nods, just slightly.

Hannah's by the window in Giles' loft, simply looking out, looking at nothing in particular. She hugs herself and her head drops as she starts to softly cry.

In the hospital room, Willow casts an anxious look at Xander still motionless in his bed. She looks first to Dawn, then Tara, who says something that causes Willow to relax considerably. She smiles, but soon realizes her smiles aren't being returned. She again looks questioningly from one to the other, but neither speak. She's getting really worked up now, scared, and Dawn starts to say something. She doesn't get far, though, before she can't speak any more. Willow turns immediately to Tara, who picks up where Dawn left off. Willow watches, still afraid. Then the fear turns to disbelief. She's starting to cry now and she shakes her head in denial. She looks to Dawn, looking for someone to tell her that what she's heard isn't true, but Dawn can only cry. Willow looks back to Tara again and says something, begging for it not to be true. Tara can only look at her with sympathy and matching pain as Willow dissolves into tears.

Giles office. Buffy is sitting in the corner, her back against the wall, curled in on herself. We can't see her face, but her shaking shoulders tell us all we need to know. She's hugging the Owl plushie for dear life.

CUT TO BLACK

** And that, my friends, is that.

#jw writes stuff #btvs: the chosen #IT TOOK ME LONGER THAN I THOUGHT #and now i'm officially drained and exhausted goodnight

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vaguely-concerned · 7 years ago

Text

Overwatch fic - I hope that I don’t fall in love with you

PG-13, Hanzo Shimada/Jesse McCree, 7400 words, young McHanzo. Jesse and Hanzo are stuck in an airport overnight because of a snowstorm - drinks and shenanigans ensue.

On AO3

Outside the huge windows the snowstorm kept howling like the tantrum of some weather god whose idea of creativity stopped at ‘just turn the dial up as far as it will go and call it a day’, a shifting wall of white rushing by behind the glass.

Inside the airport it was quiet, though, like the snow had settled in here too and was dampening all sound. Everyone moved with the weary yet unflappable tranquility of people who had accepted the truth that they were stuck here until the forces of fate and air traffic control saw fit to release them. Even the baby that was invariably crying somewhere in the distance sounded like it was mostly phoning it in for the look of the thing at this point. With the darkness pressing in on the airport it felt like being trapped in a high-tech cave of glass and concrete, the lights kept low and lulling.

Jesse was aching for a smoke, but the lady behind the bar had that ‘overworked and ready to commit murder with a cocktail strainer’ look about her and he wasn’t ready to stand outside in the roaring gale again until the bourbon had properly thawed out his bones. So instead he fiddled with the corner of the coaster and idly kicked his heels against the leg of the bar stool, keeping half an eye on the holo-set in the corner showing some kind of soccer game and otherwise watching the slow trickle of his fellow waylaid travelers flowing past.

He glanced away from a thrilling 0-0 draw — Jesse wasn’t big into sports that didn’t involve horses at the best of times, and found that having to watch grown men aim for and fail to hit such a big target for ninety minutes straight was like sandpaper over his soul — to see Hanzo Shimada standing in the middle of the terminal, glaring at the flight information display screen. Jesse felt an instinctive twinge of amusement; there was no mistaking him, no other man could have so eloquently stared at a defenseless piece of technology like it had personally offended him and his entire family back several generations.

Hanzo looked no different than he had when they parted ways twelve hours ago, job well done and encrypted info on illegal weapons technology duly exchanged. Even in everyday clothes — well, what passed for it for him, anyway — he seemed… sharper than the people around him, like he’d been carved out of the world differently. Jesse leaned his cheek in his palm and took the opportunity to watch him without having to think about being watched back. Yeah, no, there really was nothing the clothes could do to hide the broad shoulders or the way he moved like he knew precisely where every part of his body was at all times. You could stick a hoodie on a wolf, but it wouldn’t make its teeth any blunter.

With his hair down and a look of peevish outrage on his face he looked younger and infinitely less forbidding, though, like said wolf caught using the drawstrings as a chew toy.

After a while he seemed to spot Jesse and stood for a moment completely still, as if making up his mind about how to react. Jesse decided to leave the choice to him and pretended he hadn’t seen him, instead taking a sip of his drink.

A minute or so later there was the sound of Hanzo clearing his throat, and Jesse glanced up to find him standing close by, snow melting on the shoulders of his coat.

“Oh. Hey there.”

“Hello again,” Hanzo said, letting his bag fall to the ground with a thump and the tiniest hint of clanking metal — Jesse tried to keep out of his mind how many lethal weapons he could keep stowed in there, security be damned. Not that he needed them to be the deadliest guy in the airport. Any airport.

“We keep meetin’,” Jesse agreed, tilting his head to the side. “You having a drink?”

“Why,” Hanzo asked, sitting down on the bar stool next to Jesse, “are you buying?”

Jesse let out a surprised huff of laughter — now there was a tone he’d never heard from him before. If he didn’t know any better he’d say that that was a touch of playfulness.

“Sure,” he said. “If the next round’s yours.”

“Of course. Have they said anything over the intercom?”

Jesse shrugged. “Nothin’ encouraging.”

Hanzo gave a dissatisfied grunt and ordered a drink after a perfunctory scan of the list. He checked his phone while he waited, his brows drawn together irritably.

“Good luck with that, the only forecast you’re likely to get is ‘disappointment with a chance of confused meteorologists’,” Jesse told him. At Hanzo’s surprised blink he added: “Checked it before. You know you’re fucked when they ain’t even had the time to give the storm a name before it hits. We’re right on the outskirts of it as it passes, though, so with a bit of luck we’ll be good to go before noon tomorrow.”

That same impenetrable blinking for a few seconds and then Hanzo gave a breath of laughter and put the phone down, accepting his Old Fashioned with a short ‘Thank you’ when the lady handed it to him. “I see.”

“Guess we’re stuck here at least overnight, huh,” Jesse said.

“It would appear so,” Hanzo sighed, running a hand through his hair to push it away from his face — it fell sleekly over his shoulder and down his back. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were still pink from the cold outside.

Strangely enough the confirmation that they were indeed trapped seemed to calm him down more than anything. He took a sip of his drink and wrinkled his nose, though it didn’t stop him from going in for another straight after.

Hanzo shrugged the coat off and rolled up his sleeves, the tattoo clearly visible on his left forearm. Jesse found himself wrapped up in the design, tracing the interlocking patterns with his eyes when Hanzo wasn’t looking — he’d been trying to get a better look ever since that first time he’d noticed it, when it had been way too dark to make out details and a smear of blood had obscured parts of it. Now that he could study it freely he decided the design suited the man, stark and bold and wound tightly in on itself in ways that didn’t look entirely comfortable.

Eventually Hanzo seemed to sense Jesse’s gaze on him and raised an eyebrow, glass halfway to his lips.

Jesse tore his eyes away and cleared his throat, leaning his elbows on the table. “You gonna get in trouble with your folks over this?”

“Hm?”

“We were already runnin’ kinda late before. Can’t imagine they’ll be happy with this little delay.”

“I… may have some explaining to do when I get back.” He stared into thin air, as if contemplating this, then grimaced and knocked the rest of his drink back in one go, waving for another even as he swallowed.

“Whoa,” Jesse said, equal parts impressed, perturbed and feeling his throat burn in sympathy.

Hanzo gave an acknowledging shrug and started in on the new drink with infinitesimally more restraint, sipping it like a man on a grim quest to escape the dingy shallows of sobriety. “It has been… a long day. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have no one back home to answer to?”

Jesse made an indifferent sound. “Sure, but so long as I get the job done they don’t care much one way or the other how I get there. Would probably start askin’ around for me if I didn’t turn up in a week or so, though. At least I’d like to think so.”

“...an interesting way to run things.”

“I’m a bit of a special case,” Jesse admitted, shrugging. “And I’ve earned it, too. We’re not all charmingly free spirited mavericks like me, though, believe it or not; some of the guys actually do numbers and spreadsheets and shit.”

“Thank heavens,” Hanzo said, “I am not sure the world is big enough for more than one of you.”

When Jesse looked at him there was a smile playing on Hanzo’s lips even as his eyes were drawn and weary, a disarmingly charming expression just from how pleased he looked at his own joke.

“You know, like in your movies? ‘This town isn’t big enough for the both of us’? Dramatic duels at dawn?” He made the most deadpan finger gun Jesse had ever seen and lifted his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I, uh, I thought I caught your reference there,” Jesse chuckled, swirling his drink around in his glass. “You have watched a few Westerns in your time, then? You been holdin’ out on me?”

Hanzo gave a grunt and took a sip of his drink. “None that did not involve assless chaps and only the R-rated kind of riding. No horses involved, though.”

It was a near thing that Jesse didn’t snort bourbon through his nose. Hanzo’s smile widened almost imperceptibly.

If you’d asked Jesse before tonight about Hanzo Shimada’s defining qualities, his sense of humor would not necessarily have come up. The aloofness might, as well as the way he walked and talked like he knew, in a disinterested, blasé sort of way, exactly the most efficient way to kill anyone he set his eyes on if needed — the sparkling repartee, not so much. Jesse had always felt that slinging jokes in his direction was like appealing to a vaguely condescending brick wall. Well, more fool him; one on one and devoid of any business to discuss the guy could be hilarious, not even unintentionally, in a way that careened merrily between the sharply observed and the delightfully mean, though the worst of the nihilism eased once he started in on the third drink.

“So you’re telling me,” Jesse said, squinting at Hanzo’s face, “that you had to stay in character as a delivery boy for a month before the guy finally let you in?”

“It was the only way to get close enough to him,” Hanzo shrugged. “A deeply paranoid man. Rightfully so, of course, he had made some powerful enemies through his stupidity and greed.”

“Wow, Mr. Shimada, tell us how you really feel.”

Hanzo made a little face that clearly said ‘Eh, what can you do, there’s no helping some people’. It was the kind of expression that held the ennui and world weariness of a much older man — Jesse suspected Hanzo had been born with it already preprogrammed into him. “If he had been as willing to learn to cook for himself after divorcing his wife as he was setting up diabolical and deadly security systems… I might have had a lot more trouble. He used his last words to complain he had not ordered pepperoni.”

Jesse had a vivid, inexorable mental image of Hanzo dressed up as a pizza boy scowling daggers under the cap; he had to rest a hand over his mouth before he made a sound he might regret, though Hanzo picked up on it anyway.

“I am glad you seem to find it funny. I did not see the humor in it at the time.”

“I can see how you wouldn’t,” Jesse said, strangled. Pushing his luck he asked: “You keep the uniform, at least?”

Hanzo grimaced into his drink. “Perhaps you and Genji should get together some time and create your own comedy act. He asked me the exact same thing when I got back.”

“I knew that kid was alright,” Jesse beamed. “Good instincts.”

“Apart from having to endure your comedy it was a temporary indignity only and the job went smoothly from there. I did get a commendation from my employer several times,” he added, as if he’d only just remembered. “Had to all but fight off a promotion before I left.”

“Well then, at least you know you got a job waitin’ for you if this industry goes tits up in these peaceful Overwatch times. More than you can say for some of us. Ain’t got too many marketable skills outside of… this whole deal,” Jesse said, catching himself before saying ‘shootin’ people in the head’ as the bartender passed by on her way to another customer.

Hanzo made an unconvinced sound in his nose. “Oh, I would not be so sure of that. One does a lot of people watching in our line of business. You develop a knack for working people out, which is usually half the battle. Take that one,” he said, gesturing discreetly in the direction of a corner table with a lone businessman whose only crime, as far as Jesse could tell, lay in a supremely bland taste in ties.

“What about him? You find his fashion sense personally offensive?”

“Obviously, but beyond that he is clearly having an affair.”

Jesse squinted at the guy, finding that despite looking gracelessly and resignedly middle aged there was no lipstick on his collar, literal or figurative. “Oh, clearly.”

Hanzo, taking this as a challenge, held his head higher and appraised the man as a renowned art critic might the results of a ‘Watercolors For Complete Beginners’ course. “Hm. The first thing he did after sitting down was remove his wedding ring. Two phones, two separate credit cards, which — oh, how embarrassing, he still mixes up on occasion, so this fling might be a recent development…”

The guy sat there mortified while the server reset the card machine; Hanzo rested his chin in a studiously dispassionate palm and kept going.

“Generally surreptitious and flighty manner, so perhaps very recent at that, could be he is not entirely sure his new flame will show up — a newly bought and expensive if, hm, inadvisable outfit, a rather sad attempt at styling what remains of his hair, but I suppose there is something to be said for the nobility of doing what you can with what you have…”

Jesse bumped their shoulders together, chuckling despite himself at the sheer unfiltered disdain. “Okay, Sherlock, I get it. You can stop showin’ off.”

Hanzo shrugged and abandoned the theatrical thinking posture, sitting up straighter again. “Of course most cases are not quite so blatantly, pathetically obvious.”

“You really don’t like this guy, do you.”

A stiffening of his back, almost unnoticeable if you weren’t paying attention — perhaps he thought no one was. “I dislike disloyalty. If you have made the decision to devote yourself to something or someone, you stay true to it.”

“Well, I dunno. I’ve seen too many people stay loyal to their own misery. To bad places, or bad times, or bad people. Sometimes you gotta know when to fold ‘em and walk away, y’know?”

Hanzo glanced at him with sharp, dark eyes from behind the curtain of his hair, something written nakedly in his expression that Jesse didn’t know how to read.

“Not that goin’ behind the back of someone you’ve promised the whole ‘to have and to hold’ thing to isn’t a certifiably shitty move, it ain’t the way a man oughta treat his partner,” Jesse clarified, holding his hands up in easy concession and leaning back to show he didn’t mean to make an argument out of it. “Just sayin’ that there are some things that loyalty doesn’t… well. You see enough shit, it makes you wonder.”

“Hm.”

The corner of Jesse’s mouth wanted to twitch up — he’d known the man for almost a year now, and those little ‘hm’s still remained completely opaque to him.

Hanzo touched his arm and tilted his head towards their new friend with the bland tie. “Ah. Observe.”

The guy was still fiddling with his two credit cards when a woman — slightly younger than him and looking excitedly nervous in high heels — came over to his table, and in his rush to hide them away he almost ended up putting his mouth on her nose when she went in for a chaste kiss.

Hanzo gave a little ‘ta-dah’ wave with such withering sarcasm that it was a miracle the guy didn’t collapse on the spot. “See? He may be unfaithful, but he respects his wife and her intelligence enough to go out of his way to hide it. Touching, in its own way. Perhaps there is something to salvage there yet.”

Shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, Jesse brought his glass to his mouth but had to put it down again before he spilled booze all over himself. “You’re a cynical, cynical man, Mr. Shimada.”

“As cynical as any man who endeavours to see the world clearly.”

Jesse nudged his knee against Hanzo’s under the bar, inclining his glass towards him. “What’s that thing ‘bout how… behind every cynic there’s a disappointed idealist or whatever? Is there really no romance in your soul, sir?”

Hanzo quirked a strange little grin — he glanced at Jesse out of the corner of his eye and held out his glass too. “An odd question to ask a man who studies swordsmanship in this day and age.”

Jesse tipped his head to the side in acknowledgement and touched their glasses together with a clink, taking a sip. In his precise, certain way Hanzo pushed his hair away from his face, still that look about him like he was entertaining some private amusement.

“Such incisive commentary is enough to have me worryin’ what you see when you look at me,” Jesse said, meaning it as a joke. “Starting to think I’ll have to plant some red herring backstories to keep you off my trail. On an unrelated note — I ever tell you ‘bout how I was found as a baby by a circus elephant and was raised by a happy triad of clowns, knife throwers and fire eaters? The good ol’ ‘secretly a Russian princess all along’ ditty? How I got this scar?”

“You,” Hanzo said, the slightest slur to his words now when he didn’t watch it, “are… strange, mostly.”

When he finished laughing Jesse said: “Yeah, I’ve been reliably informed.”

Hanzo pursed his lips thoughtfully, looking at him with what seemed like honest curiosity. “It does not trouble you, then.”

“If it did I’d be nothin’ but troubled all the livelong day,” Jesse said. “Lotta effort, low payoff. Not like I’m ever gonna pass as anything but what I am for any length of time anyway. Might as well work with it.”

Hanzo smiled, his cheeks flushed with the booze and dark hair loosely gathered over one shoulder. He looked different when he smiled for real, almost surprised, like his face had just received an unexpected but not unwelcome visitor.

Jesse found himself smiling back.

“You, uh, you hungry?” Jesse asked after a while, without quite knowing why. “‘Cause I could murder a burger right about now.”

Hanzo blinked slowly at him. “...it is nearly two in the morning.”

“It sure is,” Jesse agreed. “You can have some of my fries, if you’d like,” he added, in the name of sweetening the pot.

After a moment of deliberation Hanzo shrugged. “Who am I to refuse such a deal. Lead the way,” he said, hopping down from the bar stool and gathering up his things.

———

After they finished eating they drifted aimlessly through the terminal for a while before settling down on a bench in an isolated corner, Jesse giving up on what remained of the ketchup splotch on the thigh of his jeans and tossing the paper napkin in the trash. He felt full and warm and oddly at peace with the world at large, and not just because of the booze or the fact that he’d gotten to see Hanzo Shimada — a man whose name was whispered with fear and deference in certain parts of the underworld — make fun of his smoking habit by way of creative application of a french fry not ten minutes ago. The image of Hanzo holding the fry between his fingers like a cigarette and giving a bad imitation of Jesse’s drawl would keep him warm on cold and lonely nights.

Their conversation had petered out to become a comfortable lull, and when Jesse glanced over at him Hanzo was glaring intensely at the opposite wall — almost, Jesse noted, like someone desperately fighting to keep their eyes open.

“Y’know,” Jesse ventured, having observed this internal battle for a while and taking pity, “you can have a snooze if you’d like. I’ll keep a lookout for any questionable characters headin’ our way.”

“Hm?”

“When life gives you jetlag, make a night shift, right?” Jesse said, waving at what he felt sure were the impressive dark circles under his eyes. “I’m not gonna be sleepin’ anytime soon anyway.”

Hanzo blinked in consideration for a while, then gave a ‘fair enough’ head tilt and leaned back. If he was anything like Jesse he probably had the chip with the data they’d traded somewhere on him, close to the skin, but he made a loop with the shoulder strap of his bag anyway and hooked his foot into it. Then he settled into perfect stillness with uncanny immediacy, arms folded over his chest and a look on his face like he was preparing to offer Mr. Sandman an offer he couldn’t refuse — since Hanzo’s eyes were closed anyway Jesse allowed himself a grin.

He rooted around in his bag to fish out the holovid, booting it up and navigating his way to the giant trove of video files he’d downloaded — extremely illegally — when he was eleven and had kept around and up to date ever since for occasions such as this. His logic had always been that should the war break out again he’d better be able to watch every decent Western ever made before the nuclear winter finished him off.

Hanzo drifted off quickly, if the way his breathing changed to be calmer and deeper was any indication, though he still looked stiff and tensed up. Occasionally he would let out a small, hilariously dainty sniffle as he shifted; Jesse was delighted to learn that even while far off in Dreamland he managed to look faintly peeved.

Jesse started the movie and let his brain slide into the comforting groove of the familiar plot. Sinking down on the bench he settled in, crossing his legs at the ankles and stretching out as much as politeness allowed.

When the first movie ended he put on the next one, whistling to himself under his breath as the title screen flashed to life. In his sleep Hanzo slid down the bench until his temple rested on Jesse’s shoulder — for a couple of mad, serene moments Jesse’s body acted like this was the most natural thing in the world. In fact it decided to just sit there for a while, smiling faintly down at the top of Hanzo’s head. They were close enough now that he could smell him, warm and clean and strangely graceful even after what must’ve been a couple of days of travel and half a night in the airport bar. Maybe the mystical mumbo-jumbo the Shimadas shrouded themselves in wasn’t all smoke and mirrors after all and the man was actually magic. It was either that or a really well picked aftershave.

(Jesse might’ve had more to drink than he’d thought at this point, he recognized absently.)

Huh.

…wait a fucking second.

Jesse’s brain felt a slow, indomitable wash of horror as it realized that what his body had meant to do was pull Hanzo in closer where he’d lie more comfortably and securely against his side before turning back to the movie.

Jesse stared into the middle distance for a long time. At one point an elderly lady walked up to him and asked him in hushed tones if he was feeling well.

“Never better, ma’am,” he said hoarsely, realizing too late that he’d sort of leaned back into Hanzo’s weight as if to seek out something sure and steady under her mild, concerned gaze.

She patted his knee. “I get like that myself,” she said wisely. “Put away enough gin beforehand and you’ll sleep through most of the flight anyway. I’m sure your young man won’t mind if he knows you get that worked up about it.”

Jesse made a strangled sound in his throat and nodded, smiling a fixed, manic smile.

As she winked at him and walked away Hanzo sighed in his sleep and turned his face further into Jesse’s shoulder — a soft, trusting gesture that had Jesse dizzy because...well, you wouldn’t know it to look at him, would you, that there could be that kind of easy sweetness in him. Normally you got the impression that he was the kind of man whose most pressing reason, at any moment, not to stab you to death was the potential dry cleaning bill, and nothing about that could prepare you for this.

Some locks of hair had fallen into his face, silky over sharp features. Jesse kept very still and watched him.

You deserve better, Jesse thought nonsensically, out of the blue, Hanzo’s face as he talked about loyalty flashing through his mind. Was loyalty really the word for it when you gave them everything and they seemed all too happy to take it and give nothing back?

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Hanzo gave a low sleepy sound and seemed to come awake. As he stirred he tilted away; Jesse hurriedly inched away before Hanzo’s eyes blinked open, desperately trying to pretend that his side didn’t suddenly feel very cold and lonely. He crossed his legs at the ankles and sank back against the bench, staring fixedly at the holovid as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

With a grunt Hanzo sat up, rubbing at his neck with a pained expression.

“Welcome back,” Jesse said, hoping his grin seemed natural enough to hide the fact that everything inside him was currently one long incoherent scream.

Hanzo smiled slightly and rolled his shoulder, working out the stiffness. “Thank you. Happy to be here.”

The scream in Jesse’s head rose to a violent crescendo at the easy sarcasm. Hanzo glanced down at the holovid for a second with an unreadable expression, then squinted at the big hologram clock over by the entrance, moving his neck like he was smoothing out a crick. He looked over at Jesse. “Hm. It is still only four.”

Jesse’s heart gave a thrill at the barest indication of a raised eyebrow, the invitation slyly offered and easily ignored if unwanted. “Ah, the night is still young, then. You up for another round, Mr. Shimada?”

“‘Hanzo’ is fine,” he said, getting to his feet in one mesmerizingly sure, fluid movement. “And absolutely. I have nowhere else to be.”

———

The bartender seemed both amused and unimpressed to see them again, but she acquiesced readily enough when Jesse grinned and told her to leave the bottle.

“Promised to buy you a drink, right?” Jesse said, waving Hanzo off when he started to say something and pushing a glass towards him. He felt sure he needed to be much drunker if he were to survive the night in this state.

Hanzo tasted the admittedly dirt cheap bourbon and wrinkled his nose. “...interesting,” he said, with the very faintest veneer of politeness the human voice could bestow to cover up the disgust.

“A free drink is a free drink, ain’t it?”

Jesse noted that Hanzo’s expressions changed after a few drinks — normally he looked like he meant to constantly school them even if the results were varying, any flicker of emotion the result of a momentary slip-up and immediately, angrily squashed, but tonight that mask had definitely fallen off somewhere along the way. It looked good on him, that new unrestrained expressiveness. Now that he knew the signs to look for Jesse was pretty sure he could start to pick up on them in a sober Hanzo too. “An excellent point. I apologize for my brashness before, keep it coming.”

“You got it, friend,” Jesse said and topped up his drink.

The nap seemed to have given Hanzo a second wind. There was more of a swagger to him now, a tiny lift of his chin. They talked shop for a while, in a vague and euphemistic dance to avoid saying anything that’d have someone in the bar calling the cops on them, then somehow ended up derailed enough that they were talking about the history of their respective countries in the eighteen seventies the next time Jesse checked in with himself and realized he was having fun. In his surprise he ended up stuttering to a halt; when Hanzo gave him a questioning look he floundered for something to say.

“Y’know, I keep meanin’ to ask,” Jesse said, hoping it covered for his momentary distraction and current existential horror at how charmed he was by Hanzo explaining, in his sardonic, clipped manner, the finer details of the military reforms of the Meiji restoration. “What’s the deal with the sword ‘n the bow ‘n stuff? Not that you’re not pulling it off like nobody’s business, but isn’t it a little… old fashioned?”

Hanzo wrinkled his brow thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against his glass. He looked Jesse over from boots to hat and back again; Jesse fought the urge to squirm under the inspection. “...was that a serious question?”

“Huh?”

That private half-smile from before returned, something brightening in his eyes. “Apparently it was. Hm. I suppose it is a little old fashioned, at that. But you never know — perhaps there is still a future for anachronisms.” He blinked slowly — well, he did have a few drinks under his belt at this point too, built like a brick shithouse though he was. “It is also a smidge quieter and more discreet than the hand cannon you carry around.”

“I’ll not sit here and listen to you besmirch my gun just ‘cause your taste skews more medieval,” Jesse announced. “Peacekeeper’s served me plenty well through the years, thank you very much.”

“I am sure it has. And I am even more sure that my ‘medieval tastes’ would still have you beat every time.”

“Would it, now?”

“In fact I am perfectly willing to put money on it,” Hanzo said, leaning forward, a glint in his eye that made Inner Jesse whimper. “Any contest, at any time.”

“Oh ho ho,” Jesse said, casually pushing his hat back on his head as his heart raced against his ribs, “you better believe that all that stands between you, an empty wallet and complete humiliation in this very moment is the laws of this land frowning on firin’ guns in public places.”

Hanzo gave a faux-haughty huff, eyes glittering. “A pitiful excuse.”

Jesse felt the grin bright on his face and leaned forward too. “Hey, gimme a time, place, and somewhere to dump the evidence and we’ll see ‘bout that.”

“That can be arrang — ” Hanzo stopped, a frown appearing on his brow.

“What’s up?” Jesse asked after a while, realizing suddenly how close their faces were now.

“I just had a strange feeling that — ”

Hanzo’s phone called out shrilly, a dozen times or so in quick succession. With the air of someone stepping up to the scaffold and giving the hangman a meaningful look to get it over with already he checked it.

After a few moments he picked up his drink, finished it in one go, poured himself another and then leaned forward to rest his forehead against the bar, the image of a beaten man.

“Uh…” Jesse said, tentatively resting a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“My feeling was right,” Hanzo murmured, holding out the phone without lifting his head. “My brother is indeed disgracing himself and our entire family as we speak.”

“What, your Genji sense was tinglin’? You felt a great disturbance in the Force?”

Hanzo gave a mirthless bark of laughter. Jesse stared at the bared line of his neck, stumbling over the fact that he could barely remember ever wanting anything as much as he wanted to brush his lips there, to hear a breath of real laughter in response. The physical contact before had woken something inside him that had slumbered for a long time; he couldn’t remember ever longing for anyone to just… touch him before. It was easily the third most pathetic he’d felt in his entire life, sitting there yearning for what was likely one of the most dangerous men in the world to rest a hand on his shoulder, even for a few seconds.

He felt vaguely that his brain had broken or something.

Taking the phone he glanced down at the screen, then flinched back like he’d been stung by a wasp.

“Dear lord,” Jesse said, tilting the phone and then his head to try to make more sense of the image, morbidly fascinated. “The hell’s he doin’ with that lobster? How would that thing even fit down the front of his… huh. Well.”

Hanzo just whimpered, burying his fingers in his hair. “Keep going.”

Jesse flipped through the next few and whistled under his breath. “Well, someone’s havin’ more fun than us tonight, at least. Didn’t even know they made drinks with that many colors. Who’s the young lady with the… ”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“Fair enough, that’s — whoa there,” Jesse said, hurriedly skipping one. “Don’t mean to be rude or anythin’, but that’s, uh, that’s more of your brother than I ever needed to see.”

“I know the feeling,” Hanzo said. “For what it is worth I think he sent that one by mistake. My name must be close to one of the girls he is… dating in his contact list, it would not be the first time.”

“‘One of’, huh. One of those situations.”

“Enough of ‘those’ to fill an entire four act comedy of errors.”

Helpless against the depths of resigned despair in Hanzo’s voice Jesse chuckled. “Sounded like you saw this comin’, somehow.”

“It is a special instinct I have developed,” Hanzo told the tabletop earnestly. “I can feel Genji shaming every single one of our ancestors from half a world away.”

Jesse snorted, squinting to make out an image distorted by blurred lights and excessive photo filters and deciding it might be a nightclub actively, literally on fire.

“Of course it is partly a matter of always being prepared to expect it,” Hanzo continued vaguely, sitting up. “Statistically I usually turn out to be right. Mathematics. You know how it is.”

“Least he’s kept his pants on in this one,” Jesse said philosophically, flicking through the last few messages to find that Genji had gone the extra mile by making a holo gif so the nipple tassels could have their full, animated effect.

“Sometimes,” Hanzo said, in a way that suggested he wouldn’t have done so sober, “it feels like he does it specifically to spite me. To get a rise out of me, rubbing it in my face just to show me that he can. Which is naturally ludicrous because I doubt he has ever thought that deeply about anything in his entire life, but it does not stop it from being… annoying.”

Jesse put the phone down, intrigued by the minefield stretching out before them. “Is there anything in those,” he waved towards the phone, “that you’d actually want, though?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hanzo snapped, though Jesse didn’t take it personally as the ire was clearly not actually directed at him as much as the very concept of the question. “It’s pathetic. But he stands free to do anything he wants and chooses to squander it on…”

He stopped himself, looking down at his hands tightly curled on the bar. With deliberate movements he unfurled his fingers, though the tension still ran through them like piano wires — some part of Jesse, having already barrelled through the first stages of grief and resting now in depressed acceptance, recognized that his hands were extremely nice, strong and sure and well shaped. He wished he could have managed to dwell in the tranquil valleys of denial at least until boarding his flight, but there you were. “No matter.”

“Hey,” Jesse said. “He’s just bein’ young and dumb. When’s the last time you saw each other?”

Hanzo shrugged. “Weeks ago. Half a month or so, maybe. Why?”

“You call him in all that time?”

“No. I doubt he would pick up if he knew it was me.”

“Maybe he wanted to get your attention somehow and thought actin’ like a dumbass was the way to go about it,” Jesse offered. At Hanzo’s blank, uncomprehending stare he quickly added: “Hey, what do I know, though, I’m just some random idiot with a neat hat.”

Hanzo, in a very un-Hanzo move, looked unsure. He fiddled with the edge of his sleeve, staring into the middle distance.

“I never know why he does what he does,” he said finally. “We… do not speak much anymore.”

“You used to?

Hanzo shrugged again, a tight, constrained little gesture. “Some. More. When we were boys. Before — hm.”

Jesse nodded, watching him out of the corner of his eye — he’d ducked his head again, as if going into hiding behind his hair, shutting himself off. There was an ache in Jesse’s chest, some puzzle pieces falling into place and making a pretty sad picture in his head. It seemed weird now that he’d found the guy so inscrutable and overbearing in the beginning. Considering where — who — he came from, it was maybe a wonder he had any urge left to connect to anyone else at all.

“Should I…” Hanzo furrowed his brow as if doing complicated calculations in his head and looked up. “...answer him?”

“Why not? What’s the worst that can happen?”

“You saw the nipple tassels, why would you underestimate him like this,” Hanzo said immediately, but he was tapping something out on his phone with a thoughtful expression. “I — would asking him to stay safe count as nagging, do you think?”

“Just like that? Shouldn’t think so.”

Hanzo made an absent-minded sound of gratitude and kept writing. There was something horribly endearing about the way he picked each character like he was setting down important messages in stone that people would see and judge for generations to come.

For a while Hanzo stared down at his finished message, a doubtful downward curl to his mouth. Finally he mumbled: “Perhaps I should not encourage…”

“Hey,” Jesse said, touching Hanzo’s shoulder. “Don’t think about it too hard. Just send it.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” Hanzo said sardonically, though there was a grin lurking in his voice.

“As someone who ain’t never thought too hard about anythin’ in my entire life,” Jesse agreed, bringing his free hand to rest over his heart, “you’d be surprised how often it works out.”

Hanzo chuckled, letting his head fall to one side. After a moment he pressed ‘send’ and put the phone face down on the table, giving a small sigh. “There.”

“And would you look at that, the world didn’t even end,” Jesse beamed, snickering when Hanzo aimed a cheerful kick at his shin.

He had his hand on Hanzo’s shoulder and Hanzo wasn’t shaking him off, wasn’t even acting like it was strange, just looked at him with eyes that were tired and soft with booze and still warmed by a small, rueful smile.

There was a chime of longing in Jesse’s chest, at first unbearably gentle like a bell struck by butterfly wings, but deepening, a call that couldn’t be silenced because it rang through his bones.

Fuck, Jesse thought, giving Hanzo’s shoulder a squeeze before pulling his hand back. I am so screwed. Twenty years of nothin’ and then I just had to go for the gangster ninja assassin. Sure. Splendid. Why wouldn’t I do that. Completely in character, if nothin’ else.

Hanzo’s phone buzzed again, only twice this time; he snorted as he checked it but wrote an answer before sliding it into his pocket. He turned back to Jesse. “My brother apologizes for accidentally mentally scarring us both. You do not have siblings, do you?”

“Not that I’m aware. I’ve known some of the boys long enough that it’s kinda the same thing, I guess.”

“It is, as they say, a mixed blessing,” Hanzo said. “On the one hand I have been in a constant state of worry for close to twenty years now, on the other… actually no, there is no other hand. That’s it.”

Jesse grinned into his drink. “Sounds like maybe I dodged a bullet there.”

“...I would not go that far.” There was a quiet, fond lilt to his voice Jesse had never heard before.

Fuck.

Maybe — maybe it wasn’t going to be so bad. It wasn’t as though he’d ever act on it, Jesse told himself. Just because he knew it was there didn’t mean he’d have to do anything about it. It could just… stay a background thing. A, what was the word. No, a less embarrassing word than that. A crush, perhaps. His heart could do its whole newfound pitter-patter tap dance routine now and then, backstage where no one could see it, and otherwise he’d keep it under wraps and act like the goddamn professional he’d been scrambling to pretend to be all these years. Topsy-turvy with the booze and the low lights as he felt he wasn’t dumb or mad enough to think that Hanzo would welcome any advances with anything but, at best and simultaneously worst, pity. This was not a knife edge he was eager to test his throat against.

And yet… even as he thought it the part of him that was always watching itself and was wise to his particular brand of bullshit braced itself for the inevitable hurt.

He did a mental shrug. Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound. Anything that was worth doing was worth doing with panache and gusto, even if that thing was crashing and burning. “Can I interest you in more of the house’s finest damn disgusting swill, Mr. Shimada?”

“Mr. McCree,” Hanzo said, “I thought you would never ask.”

————

When the storm ended Jesse didn’t even notice for a while. It was first when Hanzo glanced over his shoulder to the windows and gave a small sound that he realized how light it was out, and that the low but constant howl of the storm had faded somewhere along the way.

Hanzo got up and stood by the huge windows, arms loosely crossed over his chest.

“It would seem the worst has passed,” he said, black hair outlined by the sharp clean light of the dawn. He glanced over as Jesse came up next to him. In the distance they were clearing the runways for snow at a fervent pace, though the inside of the airport had only just started to move out of its torpor. Soon it would be a real mayhem as people scurried to their new gates — but for now it was quiet.

“Seems that way,” Jesse lied blithely, watching his profile, the curl of his mouth.

They paid for their drinks — Jesse hissing between his teeth because well, he’d known it was gonna smart but he’d been trying to keep it out of his mind — and wandered off again, drifting idly through the terminal. Jesse was still tipsy enough that everything felt light and warm, all the sharp edges worn off the world. Hanzo was muttering something under his breath about the architect’s taste in dramatic floor tiles and looking enchantingly snippy while doing it.

Then the departure board updated and Jesse gave a grunt as his phone buzzed with the alert too. “Well, that’s me, I guess. Better get a move on. Thanks for the company, by the way,” he added, reaching out a hand before he could think better of it. “Saved me from being that weird guy getting shitfaced alone in a corner. It was fun.”

Hanzo blinked at him in surprise.

“Y’know, fun?” Jesse prompted. “Surely you’ve encountered the concept before?”

“Hah. McCree,” Hanzo said, taking Jesse’s outstretched hand and shaking it — you could sense the strength in his fingers even under such a controlled, careful gesture. He was grinning. “I… hm. We will keep in touch.”

“You better, we got a bet to settle now,” Jesse said, feeling mildly delirious. “Come at me whenever you’re ready for a taste of humility, I’m always ready to defend my gun’s honor.”

———

A couple of hours later he sat sleepless and hungover in the window row, leaning his head back against the seat as he replayed Hanzo’s startled laugh in his head again and again.

Part of the Scoundrels and Thieves ‘verse, which can be found here!

I would like to thank @callmesherly for helping me with what kind of drink Hanzo might go for if sake was off the table, and to @solivar and @bananamilk for lending their expertise on cowboy innuendo for Hanzo trolling Jesse! On another note — ‘leaving the bottle’ does not seem to actually be a Thing outside of movies and/or very special circumstances in most places, so let’s just assume that the bartender heard our two wonderful boys talking ~*inconspicuously*~ and was smart enough to go ‘haha I’m *not* getting paid enough to argue with international crime syndicates, if this weird kid with the hat believes the shit he sees in movies I’m not gonna be the one who corrects him’. (They did not finish that bottle by themselves, btw, the dialogue would have ended up a lot less coherent otherwise lol)

Also feel free to imagine, years down the line, Sombra finding Jesse’s old… holovid account or whatever they call it and just rubbing her hands together because surely there’s some embarrassing porn in there, there must be, he’s been updating this playlist all through his teens and young adulthood… only to find that no, it really is just every Western ever made, regardless of quality or merit, scrupulously organized like literally nothing else in his life has ever been. Which is, of course, also deeply embarrassing, but in a way that’s hard to exploit because he has exactly no shame about it and he always has at least one backup squirreled away so she can’t even threaten to delete it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Lastly: There might be nothing funnier to me than the idea of Hanzo doing the social stealth part of the whole ninja bit. Entirely competent (because he would never allow himself to be anything less) but also wearing the most long-suffering FML face once the dupe’s back is turned? — yes good. Title is from a Tom Waits song because I am incorrigible and none of you can stop me.

#overwatch #mchanzo #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #young mchanzo #my writing #Perhaps there is still a future for anachronisms #Scoundrels and Thieves 'verse #I'm really sorry if the @s don't go through -- I tried my best but I can't get them to work I think?? thank you guys anyway <3

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