#(regardless of the second person's position in the 'progressive stack')

[40ouncesandamule]

#for the people continually dumbfounded that oppressed people commit lateral oppression and leverage what privilege they do have to... #oppress others instead of seeking liberation or the dismantling of oppressive systems #furthermore... when one group with more power than you oppresses you... you have every right to resist that oppression #even if the group oppressing you is also being oppressed #while we all love the ideal of the model oppressed person who only seeks liberation... there will be people who instead lash out #and the more axes of oppression one is under will inherently make the person feel more entitled to 'punch upward' as there are more targets #so rather than tokenizing and scapegoating the oppressed person who is swinging at the other oppressed person... #(regardless of the second person's position in the 'progressive stack') #ask yourself who is benefiting from this infighting? who is instigating it? who is maintaining the systems of oppression that cause it? #who is showing it to you? #who is platforming it? #why is this inter or intra communal beef being displayed to outsiders? #because once you can answer these questions #you'll be a lot less fucking dumbfounded

[astaroth1357]

The Demon Brothers (Minus Asmo) at Their Worst  Pt. 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi)

To the anons who gave me this idea, here it is. Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m all that happy to bring it to you, cause yikes this hurt to write. I’m grateful, however, because I believe I’m better for it. You shouldn’t always stay in your comfort zone. I left out Asmodeus for personal reasons. Regardless of my ability, given the nature of this challenge, I don’t feel comfortable with writing nor posting graphic content of sexual violence and chose to refrain from doing so. Please do not ask for this to be written at a later date, I will politely refuse then as I am now.

Check out the Masterlist for more.

Warnings: THEIR SINS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO AN EXTREME (AND ALL THAT IMPLIES), Abusive/Controlling Relationships, Violence, Threat of Human Trafficking, Drowning, Angst, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Intro: Maybe the MC should have known better. It should have sunk in a long time ago that they were in incredibly risky territory... They should have remembered that these men, though they call them friends, family, and perhaps even lovers, are still demons at their heart and core. Each of them are the embodiment of some of the worst behaviors man has to offer... MC, there are some people you just shouldn’t date, even if they love you, and now you suffer the consequences...

Lucifer

It’s not difficult to see how Pride can go awry. Self-confidence and dignity are wonderful things, but let them build up unchecked and all manner of petty, vindictive behavior can surface from within a person... 

Lucifer is far from immune to these flare ups. In fact, he falls victim to them so often that they may as well be ingrained in his personality. If you do anything that mocks or belittles him, even if it’s small, you’ll get a reaction. One that’s usually more severe than offense calls for...

The MC knew this going into a relationship with him. Supposedly, they knew all the no-go zones, too. Don’t make fun of him or Diavolo, don’t mention the Fall or his back, don’t call him a nag... That sort of thing.

What they hadn’t expected was the full brunt of the expectations suddenly leveled on them.

To say Lucifer was demanding would be an understatement. Everything about him had to be poised, powerful, collected, and perfect. Whether he realized it or not, these expectations bled into their relationship as well.

It started with him nitpicking little details... The way they stood, how they styled their hair, maybe a comment or two on what they ate. But it progressively got worse...

Suddenly he found problems with the way they dressed, what they listened to, what shows they watched, even how they greeted him in the mornings!

Before too long, nothing was right to him… Nothing was good enough. They were his other half, his biggest vulnerability, and in order for him to feel secure about that they had to be perfect… However Lucifer defined it.

They listened to him at first. Though his comments stung, he could be so loving too… He truly made them feel special. Like he wouldn’t be trying so hard if it were anyone but them...

But pretty words and kind actions could only go so far. They couldn’t completely erase the vitriol being tossed at them day after day… 

Slowly, with every little change, they could feel themselves start to dwindle… The choices they made felt foreign, the lifestyle they held became draining, and then one day they realized they didn’t even look right anymore… They were no longer the person they wanted to be. 

Lucifer was doing what he set out to do: train them, break them, then mold them into something new... So they could be perfect...

Just like him.

One day, however, they just couldn’t take being the person he wanted anymore...

He found them in their bedroom just before a party that Diavolo had been planning for weeks. Their hair wasn’t fixed and their clothes were a mess. His frustration nearly skyrocketed until he saw their face, vacant and broken, staring blankly straight ahead…

He couldn’t rouse them. They wouldn’t move no matter how much he shouted, threatened, or swore...

….they didn’t even budge when he begged…

His brothers eventually noticed something amiss and took them away. Their disgust with him was fairly evident… They probably would have tried something had he not been the strongest.

He had taken something wonderful and squashed it... Hurt someone he truly loved and ruined what they could have had to protect his damn ego…

Lilith, his brothers, and Satan especially… was everyone he tried to care for just bound to end up broken too…?

The MC’s recovery was slow. They had a lot of damage to repair and a whole new identity to build. He stayed out of it as much as he could, burying himself in work and seeing his brothers less and less...

He’d done enough damage to them anyway...

Mammon

The Greedy, Scummy Second-Born… Words to etch on his tombstone. Mammon had heard it all before from all angles: the demons above him, below him, hell even a passersby on the street would know his face and his laundry list of a rap sheet...

The one person who seemed to look past all that was MC.

He truly didn’t know what sort of karma he’d gained or luck he scored to have them in his life. They didn’t just see him at his best side, they made him want to fix his worst...

But that’s easier said than done, isn’t it?

The sad truth is Mammon is a gambler at heart. Oh he loves the money, the riches, fine things, and the bling but what else does he enjoy? The rush.

There’s nothing like that feeling of triumphant when the dice falls your way or the pure exhilaration of a close bet. When all cards are on the table and everything’s stacked against you, eking out that win can cause a head-rush better than any orgasm he’s ever had... The higher the stakes? The better the high.

But maybe he went a little too far…

It’s one thing to bet Grimm, he can make more of that in a night. It’s another to bet items, harder to replace but not impossible. People…? Well. If you want high stakes…

MC was actually with him that night when he made the “great” decision to bet his most valuable treasure on poker match. He was running out of Grimm and thought that the added risk would make him play better…

He thought wrong.

MC hadn’t been at the table at the time he made the deal, but they had come back just in time to see him get his ass handed to him. He lost. Spectacularly.

When the other demons there came over to encircle MC, it already felt like his world was crumbling down around him... The look of confusion, then hurt and betrayal in their eyes forever seared themselves into his memory.

“You bet me in a poker game?!”

It sounds almost comical, but he knew what the demons were planning to do to them wasn't. And just seeing the way his human’s wrist snapped when one of the men wrenched their arm from them confirmed it.

He wouldn’t let them get away with that. When the threats escalated to violence, he took his share of punches but in the end he was left standing.

The MC was furious. He had just whittled their entire existence down to a bargaining chip and one that he tossed away carelessly…

Yeah, he’s truly a scumbag, isn’t he?

They didn’t talk to him for quite a while, despite him begging for forgiveness. There was always a part of him that wondered why he even bothered… He had done it before, and in another gambling-induced high he would probably do it again…

They’d honestly be better off without him...

Leviathan

It’s, frankly, quite difficult to be the Avatar of Envy. Every day Levi feels uncomfortable in his own skin… Like he doesn’t measure up to this or that or like he’s not worthy of being in the meager position afforded to him. He preferred to hide himself away and try not to dwell on it… but then MC came along…

For once, he felt like he had something. Something truly special. Something one of a kind and like no other… He couldn’t point to any of his brothers and say that they had something better, hell, he couldn’t even point to Diavolo and say that he had a finer version.

No. He had them. The one, the only, MC. Better than all the rest. His only great accomplishment in his miserable, pathetic life...

… so why did they keep leaving him…?

It didn’t hurt that badly at first when they’d tell him they couldn’t go watch some new anime with him because they had other plans. Sometimes they’d go off shopping with Mammon or have lunch with Beel… That was fine. Understandable.

At least that’s what he’d tell himself.

After a while though, he started to feel lonely… rejected… Was he not good enough for them? Surely that had to be it, right?? A miserable shut-in otaku with someone like them? What a joke!

Any time he’d voice his insecurities, they’d always say the same things: “No, don’t be silly!” “I really do want to be with you.” “I love you, Levi. Don’t you believe me?”

No. He didn’t. With each passing hour spent away from him, time where he would get shafted for one of his brothers instead, he believed them less and less…

Soon all he heard was lies…

Something possessed him that day. MC had just missed their third live stream in a row in order to be with his brothers instead. Which one was it? It didn’t really matter. He felt the stinging pain of isolation all the same…

When the MC walked into his room they had no way of knowing that the festering hatred and inadequacy that had been stewing in him for months was about to spill over. His anger was so quick to spark and their human body too weak to resist...

It was only once he realized how long he had their head forced under the water of his aquarium that he finally let them up for air.

He was stepping over himself to apologize, stammering incoherently through his tears how he just lost control and didn’t know what came over him!

His brothers weren’t forgiving. Not in the slightest. Each of them seemed to want to beat him within an inch of his life and he didn’t blame them… If he could get away with it, he’d march himself into the sea and let it serve as his rightful prison…

His punishments were severe, but not unending, and soon he was back in his room again. Now he never leaves it and the MC is never allowed back in, even if they want to be.

He now, truly, doesn’t deserve them at all...

Link to Part Two: Satan, Beel, Belphie

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #ow ow ow ow ow #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #crap I have to reread this... #in for pain #sorry levi #went a little hard on you there

[geniously-hacked-bebop]

Happy Monday!!! Hope you’re week started well?? It’s that time again!!! What was your first kiss with Jumin like?? Enjoy!!! ♥️

Happy Wednesday now!! I’m sorry it took me a few days to get to this, it’s finals week for me so I haven’t had as much free time. Thinking about this and writing Soft Jumin™ made my week soooo much better though so thank you for sending this in!! :)

             -----------------------------------------------------

He had invited me over for brunch at his penthouse as a date. At this point we had only been on a few. A nice restaurant that was way too expensive, his personal garden to walk through the rows of endless flowers, and as his official date to a casual RFA gathering. I had also been over once specifically to meet Elizabeth the Third at Jumin’s request, which had honestly been more nerve-wracking than any of the other occasions. Even with all of this, besides some hesitant touches and brushing of our hands here and there, there had not been too much progress in terms of the physical portion of the relationship. 

This was fine though, unlike me, he had not been in a relationship before so I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by rushing into anything he was not ready for. I had left the speed of the relationship up to him. 

I ended up arriving at his place way earlier than planned because I was too excited to just sit around at my apartment twiddling my thumbs any longer. I knocked on the door a little too loud out of eagerness and waited as I heard footsteps on the other side of the door. It was obvious he had not been expecting me so early, his face not hiding his surprised look, but it quickly softened into a smile as he greeted me. He was wearing black pants that were slightly more casual than his normal slacks and a white button down shirt with the top few buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. What caught me off guard though was the flour-smeared apron he was wearing on top, which had a cat printed right on the middle of it.

When he invited me over for brunch, I wasn’t expecting him to be the one cooking it, but the warm, sweet smell wafting through the open door was definitely reassuring. 

He invited me in and hurried back into the kitchen to make sure none of the food was burning. I gave Elizabeth a quick pet before joining Jumin to see if there was anything he needed help with, and was surprised by what I walked into. The spread on the kitchen counter was impressive, a masterfully cut fruit platter, some perfectly crispy bacon laying on a nearby plate, and an ever-growing stack of pancakes. 

He said he was almost done and the table was already set so he didn’t need any help from me. With nothing to do I stood awkwardly to the side, peering around to watch him pour more batter onto the stovetop grill. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and chuckled, “if you really want something to do, just come here and talk with me while I finish up,” he said patting the counter with his hand. 

I turned and jumped up to slide onto the counter next to where he was cooking, wiggling my legs in the air as we happily caught each other up with the events of the last few days, conversation flowing effortlessly as always. 

He ended up needing an ingredient that was on the counter on the other side of me. When he reached over, I can only imagine how red my face turned when I realized how close he was leaning to me in this position. He must’ve realized it too because his face got a bit of an uncharacteristic pink tint to it when we made eye contact, the lighthearted conversation we were having came to a sudden halt. There was a pause, neither of us moving, before he smiled and placed his hands on the counter on either side of me, leaning himself even closer. 

He moved one hand up to gently stroke my cheek, using the excuse that there was flour he was trying to get off, even though I had not even touched any of the brunch preparations. After half-heartedly brushing his thumb against my cheek to “get rid” of the nonexistent flour, his hand lingered for a second before moving it down to tilt my chin up so my face was in line with his. The tension in the air was palpable as I looked back and forth between his eyes, searching for a hint of what was going on in his head. 

“Do you even realize how cute you are?” he asked as his features softened, not giving me time to respond before he leaned in to press his lips gently against mine, wrapping his other arm around my waist. 

He pulled back far too soon, his eyes crinkling in the corners as a wide smile stretched across his face, his steel grey eyes lighting up as he looked at me, “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I laid eyes on you.” 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him back in, lips nearly touching, “So have I,” I replied before closing the rest of the distance. Both of us smiled through this kiss, which was much less serious than the first and showed off the pure joy we both had in that moment. 

The only thing that snapped us back to reality was the smell of something burning, realizing he had neglected the last few pancakes on the stove. I tried to hold it in but I couldn’t help but laugh as he disappointedly dumped them into the trash, unable to salvage the crispy burnt discs they had turned into. Regardless of this, he topped off the non-burnt pancakes with strawberries and berry syrup, and I helped him move all the food to the table. We ate gleefully, taking in each other’s presence as well as the incredible food he had made. Locking eyes as the meal went on, there was an unspoken mutual realization of how we could easily do this for the rest of our lives. 

#thanks for sending this in! #this was so fun to write omg #I love soft jumin #answered asks #mystic messenger #jumin han #I love him

[stillchaoticlogic]

Fated: The Beginning

Pairing: Reno x Reader

Summary: Ordinary days sometimes house the most extraordinary moments, even if we don’t know it at the time. On that fate filled day you would have never expected the red haired boy to one day become a Turk. You had no idea that your kindness would be repaid in ways you’ve never dreamed about. You had no idea he was the one you were meant to be with. Here’s your story.

Prelude

Today is a day just like any other day. Sitting at your desk among your many co-workers, you are part of the HR team at Shinra. Is this want you wanted? Not really. Okay, not even close, but it pays the bills. Another email about an internal issue in another one of the departments have you sighing in exasperation. 

There is suddenly an excited murmur among the department and you turn in just enough time to see a tall lean redhead come sauntering up to your desk. You recognize him immediately; even though he is no longer lanky having grown into his height, with lean with broad shoulders. His shirt stretched taut over his muscles making all the women stare. His hair is a vibrant healthy red no longer dulled by malnutrition. His gaze is almost sultry as you are locked in place by his deep green eyes. You blink up at him in confusion at a loss for words.

Reno…

No, not just Reno… 

Reno of the Turks.

He smirks down at you before he sits casually on your desk, like this is a common occurrence in your world, as if he does this all the time, and presents a letter to you. 

“I wanted to be the one to deliver this to you,” he says with a casual shrug at your silent question, his voice is deep and velvety. 

“Thank you,” you say in shock as you take the letter into your hands inspecting it while ignoring your curious co-workers around you.

“I bet you don’t even remember-” Reno begins.

“I do,” you interrupted as you glance up at him through your lashes, “I remember you, Reno. You’ve done well for yourself.” You say as you lean back in your seat to look up at him easily, casually opening the envelope in your hands. A delivery from a Turk is rarely a good thing and your curiosity gets the better of you. 

He sends you an easy grin, completely comfortable and confident in his place and in himself. Of course, you had heard about the successes of Reno. Your dad kept up with his progress and would casually mention him to you from time to time. But even if your dad hadn’t kept you up to date, the Turks are quite notorious, and Reno isn’t exactly one to blend in.

“Indeed I have, though it’s not exactly the life I had pictured,” he leans forward conspiratorially and with a wink he murmurs, “it’s even better.”

You chuckle as he casually leans back, a smirk on his handsome face regarding you before he indicates the letter in your hands. You pull it from the envelope and glance over it before you gaze up at him with wide eyes. He winks and puts a finger to his lips.

“So, long time no see, how’ve you been?” Reno asks just like you are old friends, shifting his posture comfortably on your desk. Though, perhaps you are at this point. 

“I’ve been good, you know, just working and hoping to move up,” you say with a shrug.

“How’s your dad?” Reno asks good-naturedly. 

“Oh, that’s right,” cuts in a snarky voice, “the ‘princess’ gets things handed to her on a platter.”

You glance over at your co-worker as she regards you with disdain. Reno glares over at her and asks in a sharp tone, “did we invite you into this conversation?”

“Uhh… N-no…” Your co-worker stutters, trying to avoid his menacing gaze.

“Then mind your own business,” his voice is almost a growl that sends a shiver down your back. She shrinks down into her seat and quickly averts her eyes back to her work.

You giggle at him, “I had wondered if I was going to get to meet him.”

“Meet who?” Reno asks as he glances down towards you in confusion, the hostility from a second ago completely vanished. 

“‘Reno of the Turks’,” you say with a smile. 

He sends you a sly look, “well, if you wanted to meet him all you had to do was ask.” He leans forward on your desk, holding your gaze before pulling away with a subtle wink.

“‘Wanted’ is a strong word, I think I’m happy with just ‘Reno’,” you say with a soft smile.

His eyes soften, if you hadn’t been watching him you would have missed it. 

“So, you never answered my question,” Reno says clearing his throat, “how’s your dad?”

“He’s doing well! He’s now head of his department, and his people love him.”

Reno nods his head, “I may need to stop by and see him, it’s been a while…” 

“You should, he would like that. He’s very proud of you, you know…”

“He is?” The surprise is evident in his voice. You know he has no biological family of his own, the Turks had clearly become family for him. 

“Of course, you made him look good,” you say with a wink.

He laughs with you, “Of course I did. How many of his recruits became a Turk?”

“Only one, but seriously, he keeps up with you and he doesn’t often keep up with any of his recommendations. He even keeps me up to date with you, so I know he’s really proud of the fact that you made it.”

“He’s a good man,” he says with a nod as he avoids your eyes. 

“Thanks, Reno. So, what turned you into my delivery man?” You ask as you lean your elbows on the desk and rest your chin in your hand grinning up at him. 

He chuckles as he rubs his chin, “well, I recognized your name in the stack and knew that I needed to stop by and see you. After all, you are perfect for this.”

“I am?” You ask with a tilt of your head. 

“What?! Of course! You aren’t afraid of anything,” he winks as he stands up and checks his phone. He regards it with an exaggerated frown, you nod your in understandment. 

“You’re right, I’m not…” you smirked as you watch him walk away. 

“Not even the Turks?” he inquires teasingly over his shoulder, the phone now at his ear.

“Not even the Turks,” you repeated, a sly grin sliding onto your face.

“See you soon,” Reno dismisses with a wave as he heads for the door. He’s speaking low and fast into the receiver.

“See you…” You lift your hand up in a half-wave, you aren’t sure he even saw. You’re still more shocked at seeing him after all this time, and now the letter in your hands. The letter is your chance to move up, and not just by a little bit, but to the top; to achieve a more exciting life, instead of just barely getting by and pushing papers at a desk surrounded by hostility.

“Are you a Turk candidate?” Whispers one of your co-workers. You could almost call this particular one a friend, if only she wasn’t so exhausting to deal with. 

“Umm… No… Reno and I just knew each other briefly when we were younger. He was just stopping by to say hi, and deliver some mail he found.”

“Are you sure that’s it and you’re not just his next whore?” The snarky coworker from before spat bitterly.

“What is your problem?” You ask in annoyance turning towards her.

She gives you a haughty smirk, “you just think you’re so great because of who your daddy is and this job was basically handed to you on a platter. Now you even have a Turk to fight your battles for you? How pathetic.”

“We literally have the same job, doing the same thing, and you think this is glamorous? I work just as hard as you, probably harder since I’m not sticking my nose into everybody’s business. Maybe focus more on your work and less on your spite and you might actually get promoted. Also, my relationship with Reno, regardless of what it is, is none of your business. But you can trust me when I say I don’t need him to fight my battles. I can do that just fine,” you bite back.

She scowls at you, about to hiss another retort when your name is called over the com system, along with 4 other names, to meet at a specific conference room. With a shaky breath, you stand up and head out. You can feel your heart racing as nerves wrack your body. 

You gaze around at the other candidates, three men and one other woman, all looking equally confused and gripping a similar letter in their hands. No one says anything before the screen on the far side of the room springs to life, on the other side is the Rufus Shinra. 

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m sure you are all very confused as to why I have called you here. As you have ascertained from the letter given to you this morning, I am in need of a personal assistant and you have all been selected as potential candidates. Since this is a time-sensitive matter, we will be doing the interviews today. You have all been chosen since you are the best at what you do and hold qualities that are valuable to the position. You all also come highly recommended by a member of the corporation and I look forward to speaking with each one of you. Thank you.”

Quick and to the point, you would expect nothing less of Rufus Shinra.

The first man called into the office is a serious-looking man named Chase. Your right leg begins to bounce with nervous energy and you just stare at one spot on the wall in front of you. You were not expecting this to be what you did today. Next up, was a man that resembled more the likeness of a snake than an actual man. You don’t bother listening to his name, he’s too smug for you to pay much attention to. Shortly after, your name was called next and you walk into the room with your back straight, a serious look on your face.

You regarded the four Turks in the room calmly. They are positioned behind Rufus Shinra’ desk and you read it for what it is -- an intimidation tactic. You catch Rufus’ eyes and give him your most professional smile, holding out your hand to shake and introduce yourself confidently. 

“Miss. (L.Name), you have come to me highly recommended. Please, tell me what you could bring to this position?”

You give him another one of your best smiles before you begin your answer, “thank you, sir. I am very efficient, hard-working, and reliable. I always strive to solve problems creatively and effectively. I work independently, as well as in a team with no problems. I-”

“These are very wonderful answers, Miss. (L.Name). However, everyone I have chosen today is efficient, hard-working, and reliable. They are the best in their current department. What I want to know is what sets you apart from them.” 

Your eyes widen from being suddenly interrupted. Rufus Shinra regards you coolly from behind his sleek marble desk. Your eyes are in your lap and you glance up just enough to see the Turks gazing at you with unreadable expressions. You inhale a sigh, a smirk slides its way onto your lips as Reno’s words echo in your mind, and you throw caution to the wind.

“Well sir, I was told recently I’m not scared of anything. And I mean anything. I don’t just mean work-related challenges, even though I can tackle them head-on as well. I mean, I was almost assaulted on my way home from work last week and I had to beat three drunks into the ground with the lid of a trash can,” your gaze is fierce as you regard the past week’s events,  “I don’t take anyone’s shit, and I don’t particularly care who they are or how important they think they are, I don’t tolerate being disrespected. So to put it frankly, if you are looking for an assistant that will wipe your ass every day and praise everything that you do… Then I am afraid I’m not that person. However, if you want an assistant that will contribute valuably to Shinra and it’s future, all while actually getting things done, then you can do yourself a favor and hire me now.”

The room is silent at your speech and you know in the next moment you are either getting promoted or fired. When a smirk slides onto his lips and a light chuckle escapes them, you start to feel the tension leave your shoulders. 

“He was right about you… You are perfect…” Rufus muses more to himself than to you. 

“My father?” You ask instinctively. 

“Reno,” he says as he indicates the redhead to his left, “he said that you’re perfect for the job. I admit at first I didn’t believe him. You seemed too compliant, but, as it turns out, he was right.”

“So, I start Monday?” You ask with a sly smile as you regard the group before you.

“Yes you will, unfortunately, I still have to do interviews to keep up appearances. The job is yours though.”

You can’t stop the smile on your face, “thank you, sir! You won’t regret this.”

“Let’s hope not…” Rufus glances between you and Reno, just as Reno sends you a signature wink. 

“We shall discuss the details of your new salary on Monday, in the meantime, you have the rest of the day off. You will be moving into your new apartment closer to Shinra and my condo.”

“Oh?”

“Someone will be in contact with you this afternoon about your new accommodations.”

“Thank you, I look forward to working with you,” you say sincerely, getting up to shake his hand once more before leaving the room. 

Your expression gives nothing away as you leave the room and head back to your desk to gather your things. Though, there is an energetic skip in your step as you head to the door. 

Several hours later, as you are finishing cleaning off your bookshelf there is a knock at your door. You furrow your brow and go to answer it. Opening it, you find Reno on the other side. He looks up and into your eyes the moment the door opens. 

“Figured you might be hungry,” he says, indicating the pizza in his hands.

You smile as you open the door wider, “a man after my own heart.”

Reno smiles as he walks inside and inspects the place. 

“Nice place! I think you’re gonna love your new one too, though.” He sets the pizza box down on your kitchen counter. 

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do. You’ll be pretty close to all of us too.”

You walk to the cabinet to grab plates for you both. You hand him one before he opens the box and you both dig in. 

“You’re right on time. I was starting to get hungry.”

“Yeah? How’s packing going? You need any help?” He asks around a mouth full of pizza.

“I couldn’t ask you to help me, Reno. You’ve done a lot for me already, recommending me for this job and all.”

“What are you talking about? You were already a candidate. I just put the bug in the boss’ ear. Plus there is no way that I could stand Tseng’s pick,” he says with a shudder.

“Let me guess! That really serious looking guy!”

“The one who never even changed his tone the entire time,” Reno says with a groan. 

“Yeah, working with him would have been brutal…” You say as an afterthought as you take a bite of pizza. 

“There would have been two of them then…” You share an overexaggerated look of horror with Reno before you both burst out laughing. 

“I’m glad he picked you,” he leans against the counter sending you a sly look.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Well, you actually have a personality, plus you are WAY easier on the eyes than those other guys.”

You scoff as you playfully punch him, “so you just wanted me to have the job because of my looks?”

“Hey! I said you have a personality first!”

You laugh heartily, glancing over at him. “Thanks, Reno,” you say, bumping him lightly with your shoulder.

“Don’t mention it,” Reno shrugs.

You both fall into a comfortable silence before you head to your fridge and pull out some wine. 

“Want some?” you offer, as you go to grab a glass from the shelf. 

“You don’t have any beer, do you?”

You frown slightly, “No… You want anything else?”

“Naw, the wine is fine…”

“Sorry, I’m not much of a beer drinker…”

“S’okay, it’s your house… Plus I should have grabbed some on the way over.”

You pour him a glass and hand it to him. He thanks you quietly before he takes a sip, “not bad…” he regards the liquid in his glass. 

After a few minutes, Reno claps his hands, “come on! We gotta get you packed!”

“Reno! I told you that you don’t have to help!”

“Well too bad because I am!” He says as he undoes the clasp on his suit jacket and throws it over the back of your couch. 

“Is the apartment furnished?” You inquire as you glance around your own place. 

“Nope, I’m taking you shopping tomorrow while the movers come to pick up your things.”

“Wait! What? Tomorrow? The movers are coming tomorrow?!” You begin to panic.

“Yep! That’s why we gotta get you packed!”

You curse under your breath, “you could have said something sooner!”

“And ruin dinner? That was top notch cheap pizza!”

You hide your smile and roll your eyes, “you’re ridiculous…”

“You love it,” he smirks as he grabs a box and heads into the kitchen. 

It’s at that moment a small meow is heard from the floor and Reno looks down in surprise. His eyebrows practically jump up into his hairline and his mouth opens in surprise. 

“Is this!?” He exclaims.

“It sure is!” You giggle as Milly skirts around Reno and rushes to you. You pick her up as she regards the new person warily sniffing the air in his direction. You pet her to help calm her nerves and speak gently to her as you do so. She eventually relaxes against you while still regarding Reno with distrust.

“I can’t believe you still have her… Then again I don’t know how long cats live,” he scratches the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

“They live for a while. I once heard of a woman whose cat was 32 when she died.”

“The cat or the lady!?” He asks in surprise.

“The cat!!” You laugh.

Reno chuckles as he slowly approaches you and holds out his hand for the cat to sniff. She does so hesitantly before rubbing her face against his hand. He chuckles again as he pets her, astonished that she is in your arms. 

His eyes soften as he watches her rub her face against his outstretched hand, no doubt recalling the last time he saw her. 

“It seems so long ago… a lifetime…” Reno says softly. 

“I guess for you it was…” You glance up at him with a smile. 

“Yeah… My life changed a lot that night… I owe your dad a lot,” he murmured wistfully, “He got me off the streets, helped me make something of myself. Even when I was talking about my dreams that night, I didn’t know if I would ever escape that hellhole. Now look at me, I’m a Turk. Not exactly the life I was picturing back then, but I’m not going to complain about it.”

“I’m happy for you Reno… People were so cruel to you…”

“Hey now! Enough with the sappiness! We’ve got to get you packed! You move in tomorrow!” He turns away abruptly leaving Milly meowing in annoyance that her pets stopped suddenly. 

“Oh! Right! Okay!” You exclaim in surprise at the sudden topic change. You understood though, he doesn't want to relive his old life, he left it behind so many years ago. Perhaps this time though you’ll get to be the friends that the two of you never got to be.

With that, you both get to work packing up your apartment, throwing jokes and comments at one another along with knick knacks that you each find along the way. The playful banter is something you didn’t know you needed, it keeps the nerves at bay. Or maybe it’s Reno that you didn’t know you needed...

Notes: Apparently there is a... cam guy? I don’t really know anything about him except his name is Reno, every time I’m looking for Reno gifs his gifs show up too. So there are just clips of this guy shaking his ass on the bed and I’m always so surprised when they show up! I can’t... Anyway long time since this was updated but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! Shout out to my Beta: @westsideeffectsvary​

Please like, reblog and comment! You know all that good stuffs!

#reader insert #Reno #reno sinclair #reno x reader #ff7 reno #Reno Of The Turks #reno imagine #reno sinclair x reader #ff7 imagine

[i-like-plan-m]

About your LWJ can hear lies AU- I can’t help but wonder how he would react to Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao since they are both known for being expert manipulators, especially since it’s hinted at that Nie Huaisang had a lot to do with the WW and MX thing. So I wondered if Huaisang would find a way around LWJ’s lie detecting or if he even knows about it? Also, I can just imagine the PAIN LWJ would be in if he had to talk to Jin Guangyao

Oops, I forgot to link this on tumblr! My bad! This is chapter 3 of the lies au

The trip to Qinghe was familiar by now. 

Years of flight between the sects meant Lan Zhan could make the trip with his eyes closed. He kept them open, because the sight of the Qinghe mountain range always brought a sense of relief that was as sharp as the cold air.  

The sight at the gates was becoming a familiar one, too. Nie Huiyin waited for him with all the patience she was capable of, her constant restless energy directed into a small but impeccably crafted blade that she was sharpening like it had done something to offend her. 

It was just her way, Lan Zhan had learned. Nie Mingjue’s cousin was as brusque as he was, infinitely more cheerful and possibly the loudest person Lan Zhan had ever met in his life. She was also, however, the most refreshingly honest person in all five of the great sects, save for perhaps Nie Mingjue himself. 

“Ah!” She said brightly as he landed before her, stepping gracefully from his sword and sweeping it back into the sheath on his back. “It’s our little Lan Zhan, back again!” 

He refused to acknowledge the blush heating his ears and instead nodded in greeting. His composed response did not deter her from tossing a friendly arm around his shoulders and hauling him through the open gates, past the grinning guards and into the towering grasp of the Unclean Realm walls. 

“How have you been, shidi?” She asked. The Nie Sect, Lan Zhan had quickly discovered, lived up to their imposing reputation of strength and honor. They were also the friendliest people in the world, once they’d decided you were theirs. 

Once Lan Zhan's was unofficially acknowledged as a member of the sect leader’s family-- or at least someone held in high regard by Nie-zongzhu himself, the floodgates had opened. He couldn’t decide whether their open affection was embarrassing or not, but it did fill him with a warmth he was unfamiliar with, one that felt like unconditional acceptance. As though they wanted him here. As though they liked him.

He had never had friends before. 

Well. He wasn’t entirely positive that he had any now. But regardless, the Nie Sect disciples treated him with regard. They smiled when they saw him. They welcomed him in their training exercise despite the differences in their sects’ fighting styles. 

Some, like Nie Huiyin, treated him as though he was a part of their sect. Another of Nie Mingjue’s little brothers to look out for, to keep tabs on like he was incapable of taking care of himself. 

It would be insulting if it hadn’t felt so much like acceptance. 

“I have been progressing,” Lan Zhan reported dutifully. “My control has improved further since my last visit.” He didn’t react to lies like someone had stabbed him in the ear the way he once had. With age came control, and a higher pain tolerance, apparently. 

Nie Huiyin made a sound of exasperation. “You Lans, I swear. I meant how have you been? Done anything fun lately?” She jostled him to punctuate her questions. He was slightly cheered by the fact that she had to reach higher than usual to rest an arm over his shoulders; he’d finally hit his growth spurt this summer and was nearing his brother’s height. 

“I mastered Inquiry,” he offered. 

She squinted at him suspiciously. “Is that what you do for fun?” 

“I enjoy it, yes.” 

“Hm. Acceptable. Though my rock climbing offer still stands if you want real fun. There’s nothing more exhilarating than free-falling from a thousand feet, shidi!” Lan Zhan gave a doubtful noise in response that made her laugh. “We catch ourselves before the bottom and take the rest of the fall on our sabers. And then!”

And then they raced through the most dangerous mountain pass in Qinghe on their sabers, chasing adrenaline with as many death-defying stunts they could manage until the pass ended in a dead-drop of a hundred feet. Most of them followed the waterfall straight into the large lake at the bottom. Most of the Nie disciples were reckless enough to try it at least once.

“Scorpion Alley,” he said, familiar with the sect’s unofficial rite of passage. 

“You got it,” she agreed cheerfully. “We still haven’t gotten you out there, have we?” 

“You will not,” he assured her, and bit back a smile when her laugh echoed across the training grounds. It was so different here than in his sect. There was little composure in Qinghe, no reason to stifle laughter or keep words hushed. 

Composure, he’d learned, was another word for concealment. Disguising one’s truthful feelings to reflect serenity instead. A mask that hid the turmoil beneath for the sake of propriety.

It was a lie all the same. 

“I hear your sect is hosting guest disciples next year,” Nie Huiyin said, steering him towards the main hall. 

“Yes.” He made a halfhearted attempt to sound neutral. He must have failed, because she snorted a laugh as she shoved open the doors of the main hall where Nie Mingjue sat, sorting through a stack of reports with a cranky expression. A slender, unfamiliar man with a dimpled smile stood beside the desk, holding a massive accounting book and waiting patiently for Nie Mingjue to stop muttering under his breath. 

Nie Mingjue looked up as the doors swung open. He brightened almost immediately, standing to welcome Lan Zhan with such genuine delight that Lan Zhan ducked his head, pleased. 

“Welcome back,” he said, clapping a hand on his shoulder and leading him to one of the nearby tables, gesturing for a servant to bring tea. He sat across from Lan Zhan while Nie Huiyin leaned against a column behind him. “How was the trip?”

“Fine,” Lan Zhan said, and tried not to sound petulant. He was almost sixteen, perfectly capable of making the trip from Gusu to Qinghe without trouble. 

“It’s the da-ge instinct, little Lan,” Nie Huiyin said with a laugh, nudging Nie Mingjue with her knee when he scowled up at her. “He can’t help himself.” 

The unfamiliar man hovered in the background as though unsure what to do without Nie MIngjue’s attention. Lan Zhan blinked at him, still unclear on who this newcomer was or how he’d climbed to Nie Mingjue’s side so quickly. Lan Zhan visited often enough that he would have noticed a new person in Nie Mingjue’s inner circle before today, surely. 

Nie Mingjue noticed his distraction and turned to wave the man over. “Ah. Apologies, you two have not met.” The stranger obediently crossed the room and bowed low to Lan Zhan. “This is Lan Wangji, the Second Jade of Lan. And this is Meng Yao, my new deputy.” 

“It is an honor to finally meet you, Lan-er-gongzi.” 

Lan Zhan nodded politely in response and wondered at the faint whisper of a slipped note that accompanied his words. Not quite a lie, but there was something underlying that sounded… off. 

“Da-ge,” Nie Huisang complained, sweeping into the room with a sulking expression. “I already did my saber training today as promised, and Nie Zonghui is trying to make me do more. This is cruel and unjust and-- oh, hi Lan Wangji.” 

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Zhan murmured. 

“Lan Wangji,” Nie Huiasang said brightly, throwing himself down beside them. “Tell me, doesn’t your clan have a rule or twelve about keeping promises?” 

“A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue said tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Behind him, Meng Yao hid a smile like he’d witnessed many similar discussions like this one. 

Then again, so had Lan Zhan. The Nie’s bickering was as constant as stars in the sky. It had taken some getting used to, but now Lan Zhan let it pass over him as background noise. It was all born from a place of love, and even the small lies (like Nie Huaisang’s mistruth about the duration of his promised saber practice) were easily ignored. 

Meng Yao, though. He was odd. 

Lan Zhan kept his face carefully neutral whenever Meng Yao’s smiles rang false, which was… often. He smiled like he knew it was expected of him, not because he wanted to. Like he was playing a role, either for the sect leader’s benefit or his own. 

It had been a few years since his lessons with Lan Xichen on the reasons why people lie, but most of it was… still hard to understand. So when Meng Yao responded to direction throughout the rest of Lan Zhan’s visit with a demure, “I would be honored, Sect Leader” and it rang discordant every time, Lan Zhan thought it was perhaps time to ask for help. 

Only a few years ago, Lan Zhan had accidentally exposed an advisor in Qinghe who had been bought off by merchants in the city. Every bit of his advice and own influence had been manipulated to support the merchants. 

Of course, when Lan Zhan was in the room and realized the advisor’s input sounded like a drunkard playing a dizi, he’d signaled to Nie Mingjue, who then rooted out the reason for his lies. Lan Zhan was not capable of doing so himself-- he only knew when people lied, never their reason for it. 

Shortly after Nie Mingjue had personally tossed the advisor out of the Unclean Realm’s gates, Lan Zhan had discovered a shadow wandering around on his heels. 

“How’d you know he was lying?” Nie Huaisang asked curiously. He continued when Lan Zhan stood frozen in place, unsure how to respond. “I saw your cue to da-ge. The hand signal?”

“I…” He had no idea what to do. Brush him off? Explain his mother’s gift? Deny it entirely? 

No. That was dishonest. 

He swallowed hard and admitted, “I can hear lies.” 

“Really?” Nie Huaisang’s eyes brightened. “So you knew the advisor was corrupt?” 

“No. Just that he lied.” 

“Hm. Interesting. So just the lie, not the intention?” The ever-present fan fluttered as Nie Huaisang stared thoughtfully at him. He nodded once in agreement. “You hear it?”

Lan Zhan realized he’d been absently following Nie Huaisang’s meandering pace along one of the walls. They were alone, so he reluctantly shared, “It was a gift from my mother, before she died. I hear conversations like music, and lies are…”

“Horrible, mangled sounds?” Nie Huaisang asked dryly. “My music tutors tell me that’s what I sound like when I play, anyway.” 

His face did not show the flicker of humor he felt. “Yes.”

“Is there anything other than the curse that tells you when they lie? Like, if their voice sounds nervous or their breathing is too fast?” 

Lan Zhan paused. He’d never thought of that, of looking past the sound of the curse to identify the physiological aspects of the liars. Why would he? There was irrefutable proof from the curse. 

But not looking further felt… lazy. Like willful ignorance. That he could not abide. 

“I will observe from now on,” he decided. 

“Me too!” Nie Huaisang caught his skeptical side-eye, because he sighed like he alone bore the weight of the universe and said, “I’m just saying, it seems like a useful skill. That advisor got past me, too, you know, and I spend a lot of time listening to their incredibly boring conversations.” 

“Boring conversations about running the sect.” If the disapproval wasn’t clear on his face, it was evident in his tone. 

“Exactly,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “But I learned my lesson, Lan-er-gongzi, all thanks to you! We should practice together, don’t you think? How about just before lunch every day?” 

“That is the time of your saber training,” Lan Zhan, who was not an idiot, said. 

“Is it?” Nie Huaisang asked, blinking innocently at him. “Ah, well, da-ge can’t complain if I’m busy making our favorite guest feel welcome!” 

“We will spar together before lunch,” Lan Zhan decided, ignoring Nie Huaisang’s horrified expression. “And then study during lunch.” 

“No,” Nie Huaisang wailed. “How can I learn to read people if I’ve been pummeled into the dirt by the Second Jade of Lan?”

“I would not,” Lan Zhan said, offended. “You are not capable of a legitimate spar--” 

“No shit!” 

“--so instead I will help with your training.” 

“Somehow this turned out very badly for me,” Nie Huaisang muttered, but he was at the training grounds mostly on time later that day all the same. 

That was two years ago. 

After two years of shared study, they had something that was not quite a friendship. Lan Zhan had never lost the sense of awkwardness around Nie Huaisang-- he was never quite sure how to interact, wasn’t sure what his role was in this relationship. 

Nie Huaisang mostly just complained to him about everything under the sun. But every time Lan Zhan visited, he showed up to the training grounds with an expression of utmost suffering. He only remembered his saber half the time, and he tripped over his own feet often enough Lan Zhan feared for his life, but he showed up. 

So Lan Zhan knew his concerns would be heard if he took them to Nie Huaisang. Maybe he would have more insight into Meng Yao’s oddities-- Nie Huaisang understood people the way Lan Zhan didn’t. He couldn’t hear lies, but he could see them. 

Most of the time, anyway. He’d learned to read faces where Lan Zhan heard the mistruths. It was a training method with guaranteed reliability, and Nie Huaisang’s success had surprised him. Apparently he was highly capable when he actually applied himself. Too bad he didn’t want to. 

Still. He would listen to Lan Zhan, and he would help. That much was certain.

#this is late #sorry i forgot to answer the actual prompt lol #featuring my chaotic lesbian oc #nie huiyin #because i wanted more women in it #in the shadow of moonlit flowers #my fics #my writing #the untamed #mdzs #asks #anon #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #lan wangji #lan zhan #meng yao #prompts

[captainillogical]

Distant Lands Ch.8

Stranded on a planet with toxic conditions and nothing but the clothes on your back, your only means of survival lies within the gem that got you here in the first place.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants​

You find your sleep to be restless, despite the better sleeping conditions this time. 

Having no idea what time it is, you blink open your heavy eyelids to come face to face with a sleeping Spinel. She’s barely three inches from your face, and when you scoot back to give yourself some much needed breathing room, your back hits the wall immediately. Ah. Somehow she’s cornered you in her sleep. You lay there for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to move to get up and go to the bathroom without waking her.

You can’t really get out from the area above your head since you’re in the corner, but if you move downwards, you have to move all of Spinel’s limbs which are very much all up in your personal space, risking waking her. And you don’t want to do that, since she obviously needs to rest.

It’s during these few moments you’re wondering what to do when Spinel mumbles something unintelligible in her sleep (that almost.. sounds like your name), and her hand shoots out to grasp the middle of the front of the shirt you’re wearing. 

What the hell. Of course she makes this difficult for you even when she’s unconscious.

Very slowly you move your hand to grab her wrist, barely able to pry her fingers from the piece of clothing without making much of a commotion. As soon as you set her hand back down, she grabs your hand with hers instead, pulling your whole arm closer to her. Okay seriously? You look back up to her face and she’s still passed out cold, tarps pressed into the side of her face, mouth slightly open.

With your other arm you reach down to pry her hand out of yours, finding it increasingly difficult to not curse out loud at her for this. Her grip is a little tighter this time, of course, and you roll your eyes at the entirety of this situation at this point. You tug on her fingers once, twice, and in a split second she grabs you with both of her arms, winding hers around your torso as she slams you into her chest, face first. You let out an “oomph” as she throws her leg over yours.

You can’t breathe so you move your face over to the side, cheek almost painfully pressed into her gem. Hearing her breathe next to your ear, your whole body feels like it’s on fire right now for some reason, but mainly, your bladder is yelling at you. You clear your throat in annoyance.

“Spinel.” You say out loud.

Nothing.

“Spinel.” You move yourself enough to jostle her. 

“Mm.” She grunts in response.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You can see her face twitch in tired irritation, but she still hasn’t opened her eyes.

“Then go to the bathroom. Why are you telling me.” 

“I don’t know, why don’t you see for yourself.” You say, humorlessly.

Her eyes shoot open and find yours immediately. It takes her approximately 5 whole seconds, and one slow blink of your face pressed against her gem for her to realize what she’s doing.

She squawks like you just pinched her arm and quickly removes all of her limbs from your body, scrambling backwards from you. She takes the entire tarp with her, leaving you feeling a bit exposed in the cold air.

“Sorry, I-I wasn’t trying to.. I didn’t mean to..” she trails off, and you can see her face light up like a tomato. It’s almost strangely endearing, if it wasn’t so hilarious.

“Keep that up, and you’ll end up strangling me in your sleep.” You say amusedly, standing up and stretching your arms. Spinel’s still in her pile, presumably still reeling from her earlier position.

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t ya’ think?”

“The more I tried to get away, the tighter you squeezed me against your gem. I really thought I was gonna break some bones there.” You pat down your clothes, clouds of dust falling off of them and into the air around you. “Anyway I’ll be back. I’m gonna grab some food while I’m out there, and then I’m gonna explore the rest of the Spire above us to see if there’s anything we could use.”

“Sounds like a plan. I was gonna check on the computer to see if anything improved overnight on the corrupted data. Kinda hoping we’d get some planet insight today.” She moves to get up, and you head out of the Spire.

It’s hot as usual outside, and you make quick work of relieving yourself before you forage around for some food. Now that you’ve got a lot to do ahead of you, you find yourself looking forward to keeping yourself busy. It’ll give you time to mull over what happened last night.

It doesn’t take you long to find some food, and once you grab enough to fill both arms, you head back to the Spire. With a whoosh of the doors closing behind you, you see Spinel hunkered down at the console as you set down your food on the nearest empty surface. You walk over to her, and she’s clearly absorbed in reading something on the screen.

“What are you reading?” You ask her, curious.

“The datalogs of the colony’s progress during their time here. Most of it is still corrupted, but the backup should be done pretty soon and by then hopefully most of it should be readable.”

“What have you got so far?”

“Boring stuff, mainly. They did mention that the soil was very rich in something here, though.” She replies, eyes moving back and forth upon the screen.

“That is terribly boring, you weren’t lying.” You shrug in her general direction. “I’ll be heading upwards anyway, so if you end up finding something actually interesting, holler at me.”

She simply nods her head in response, eyes lingering on you a bit longer than necessary.

You head up the staircase in the back, making the immediate mistake of trailing your fingers along the railing. Your hand comes back black with dust, and you have to hold back a gag while shaking it off. It basically sticks to your skin. 

When you get up to the second floor you feel the air change a little, and it smells mustier. You figure it’ll probably be worse the higher you go, if there’s no area inside exposed to outside air. There’s just.. a bunch of stone statues in this room. You walk over to a large group of them, footsteps loud in this empty, quiet room. The statues are of course, caked with dust, like everything else in this place. You can make out a couple gems, but.. these are so old that you have no idea if they were supposed to be important figures or not. Not that it would have mattered to you. 

There’s a lone statue covered by a tarp in the corner, and you walk over to it with curiosity. You grab the hem of the tarp, and pull it away from the statue to reveal.. A cloud of dust. You cough several times, and when the dust clears enough, you can see a figure. You realize that this statue is just unfinished, and there’s no face. It’s actually a little creepy, so you put the tarp back on it. That can stay under there. Looking around the room once more, you don’t really see anything else that stands out. So you meander your way back over to the staircase, and go up another flight.

When you get to the third floor, you trip on the final stair, and catch yourself on the several crates in front of you. A loud crash resounds around the room as the one from the top of the stack falls off and breaks open, wood splinters going everywhere. When you finally manage to right yourself, you bend down to inspect what spilled out of the broken crate.

Moving several large pieces of broken wood aside, you see several identical medium-sized objects in some type of packing filler. You pick one up - it’s cold to the touch, so it’s some type of metal. Turning it around in your hands slowly.. it seems like a part of a machine. To what kind of machine, exactly, is the question though.

You check the other crates - they’re just filled with more of the same type of objects, and lots of it. There’s probably near 40 crates in this room, and you haven’t even checked them all. You figure you’ll come back up here with Spinel later sometime, hopefully she knows if you can find a use out of any of it. 

Walking up another flight of stairs, you find the next three floors to be completely empty. You almost figure there’s probably nothing else up here and are ready to head back down, but you get a gut feeling to keep going regardless.

By the time you get to the seventh floor, your legs feel tired already. Well, specifically your knees. These giant, long staircases and the fucked up gravity really aren’t helping. The air smells a little clearer up here, so you guess that you’re probably near some kind of opening. 

There are more crates and boxes covered in tarp in here. You walk over to the crates to see if it was the same stuff in the lower floors, but once you dig your hand inside, you feel cloth instead. You grab the corner of the wooden lid, prying it off the top. There are bundles upon bundles of soft white cloth, as well as some other stuff. You move the cloth over to dig down a little more, and your hand finds another box at the bottom.

You lift the box out of the crate, peering at the contents inside once you take off the lid. There’s.. more cloth, an assortment of blades, some string, and a needle. This kind of looks like a really, really crude first aid kit. What the hell? Why would gems have something like this? They aren’t flesh, they don’t need something like this. You put the box back in the crate, and figure you’ll just ask Spinel about this later as well.

The rest of the boxes contain some dusty, archaic looking technology, some written manuals in gem, and some hand tools. Some of those tools could come in handy actually. You’ll grab some on the way back down, you think to yourself.

The next floor is filled with the same type of supplies. Honestly you’re not gonna lie, you were kind of hoping there’d be some better stuff in here. You’re doing your best in not freaking out, as you rightfully could do. It’s been what, a bit over two weeks? You’re starting to lose track of time here, and it’s making you anxious.

You move up to the next floor before you let your thoughts go wild, and you can hear wind quite clearly. When you reach the top of the staircase this time, your eyes roam over to the opposite wall. There’s about an eight foot large gap in the exterior where age and decay got the best of this wall, and you can see outside. The staircase that continues upwards has crumbled to pieces, making the rest of the Spire inaccessible to you. 

Walking into the middle of the room where the sun rays from outside can hit your feet, you pause for a moment to let the wind graze your skin, giving you slight goosebumps. You should probably rest here for a moment, before heading back down. You walk over to the edge and take a seat, letting the breeze make its way through your hair. With the giant red sun high overhead hitting you with its warmth, you feel like you could probably take a nap here. You raise your knee up, winding one arm around it, and resting your chin on the top.

It’s.. strangely peaceful right here. You can see the jungle for miles up this high. Sometimes, you’ll get a glimpse of something that makes you think you’re back home on Earth, and you’ll get these really intense feelings of homesickness. You squash down those feelings right now, and watch the edges of the horizon.

You’ve probably been up here, away from Spinel for nearly two hours, now that you think about it. And she hasn’t come up here to bother you, or check up on you. You’re guessing she hasn’t found anything interesting so far.

Speaking of Spinel.. you kick your one leg over the edge, stretching it out. You wonder how she’s doing. Not like how she’s feeling right now, per say, but.. in general. You can’t really imagine what’s been going on inside her head this entire time, now knowing what she’s been through. 

Fucking Pink Diamond. Of course she’d do that. Honestly, you’re kind of glad Steven doesn’t know yet, and wasn’t present for that conversation. As much as you miss him and don’t want to be here, you’re grateful that the teen didn’t have to hear yet another fucked up thing his mother has done to someone. He’s already stressed over how much his mom made everything worse for him anyway. He has enough on his plate.

You wonder how the others are doing. You hope that they’re all okay, and that they are somehow finding a way to get you. Did Steven ever get that beacon signal? Did the gems get your SOS yet? Wondering about these things is starting to eat you alive with worry. What if they wiped this planet off all star maps and they can’t find you? Will you be stuck here, forever, with Spinel? The thought sets your heart racing, and you place an open palm upon your chest.

Calm down. You’ll be fine. Don’t think about the ‘what ifs’.

You’re a bit lost in thought, keeping yourself from spiraling further into some kind of anxiety attack, when you hear footsteps coming up the stairs behind you. 

“Wow, took me a while to get to ya’.” Spinel says, hand trailing along the wall, looking around the room curiously. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so high up.”

Her eyes eventually stop on you, and she pauses, watching you for a moment. Her gaze lingers on you for a while, before she walks over to you and sits down, mirroring your body position along the edge.

“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking there would be much up here. I was mainly curious so I kept going.” You reply eventually. The sun is making you sleepy, and you find yourself wanting to lay down. “Did you find anything within the datalogs?”

“No, I actually came up here due to boredom. The system restore is taking much, much longer than I originally thought.”

“Give the tech a break, it hasn’t been used in.. who knows how long.” 

“I mean, you’re right. I’m just a little frustrated.” She says, and lets out a long breath. Her eyes are looking out into the distance, observing the jungle expanse beyond you.

“Did you just say I was right?” You smirk. “I knew you’d see the light eventually.” She gives you a dumbfounded look.

“I didn’t.. Okay, I’m never saying that again.” She replies, and you find yourself laughing at that. 

She looks a little surprised at your laughter, and her gaze lingers on your face for far too long. 

“I think this is the first time I’ve heard you laugh.” She says to you while shaking her head a bit, and tears her eyes away from you to look off into the distance again.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve laughed before.” You reply, and you look over to her. It’s like she’s not looking at you on purpose for some reason. 

Your eyes catch on the little hairs at the edge of her hairline by the back of her neck, wavering in the breeze. Her pigtails swaying slightly in the wind, shoulders relaxed with her hands by her side, she looks.. peaceful. It makes you feel something, but you’re not quite sure what yet.

“Maybe, but never in my presence.“ 

"You kind of have to actually be funny for me to laugh, you know.” You reply, and she whips her face back to you, expression that of a gaping fish.

“WHAT!? I’m funny! How could you!” She cries out, her tone defensive.

“Yeah? What’s your best joke? Lay it on me, I’ll be the judge of that.” You switch the knee you’re leaning on, and face Spinel.

She opens her mouth to say something, and then closes it again. 

“Right now?” She asks.

“Yes.”

“I can’t just tell a joke, I gotta prepare for it. The delivery matters.” She raises an eyebrow at you, and pushes some of the fringe out of her face.

“No it doesn’t.” You stare at her, and she narrows her eyes like she’s challenging you. “Hold on.”

You clear your throat, and she looks at you expectantly.

“How does a universe throw a party?” You ask, and wait to see if she’ll answer with something. Her eyes look away momentarily in thought, and then she just shrugs.

“They plan-et!” You force out and hold back a chuckle. You hate this joke, but Steven absolutely loves it because of the face you always make with the last word. And it was the only one you could think of.

Spinel is just staring at you, and after a few seconds you see the corner of her mouth twitch, and she blinks several times in succession. She lets out a small “pffft” before covering her mouth with her hand.

“Did you just laugh a lit-”

“No.” She cuts you off quickly. “That was terrible, by the way.”

“Yes I know it’s an awful joke, but you totally just laughed a little. I heard it. Proves that I’m funny, er, funnier than you at least." 

"That did not prove anything!” She furrows her eyebrows in offense. “Other than me not being able to come up with a joke on the spot.”

“Sad clown you are." 

She sputters and laughs a little, enough for her shoulders to shake.

"I’m not a clown you ass! God, are all humans like this?" 

"I like to think that most of us are.” You say with a grin.

You both settle into a silence, and this time, it’s kind of.. easy. You let the sun and wind caress your face for several long minutes, feeling relaxed for once. You don’t really wanna walk all the way back down at all right now. Your legs still kinda hurt.

“Can I ask you something?” You hear her say, and you turn to look at her. 

“Yeah?”

“What were you doing before all of this?”

“You mean before you kidnapped me?” You reply, and she looks a bit sheepish at that. “Why are you asking?" 

"I was just curious, and also I might’ve just realized that technically I don’t actually know a lot about you, despite you knowing basically everything about me.”

“Well, um,” You pause for a moment to gather your thoughts. She’s right. “I was really just helping Steven with everything surrounding Little Homeworld.” “Little.. Homeworld?” She asks, perplexed. “On Earth?”

“Oh, right. You don’t know. You said you saw Steven’s broadcast, yeah?” She nods. “After he got the Diamonds to stop their tyranny, he wanted to try helping the gems who wanted to learn basic skills that were different from what they’re used to. So they can like, have an easier time transitioning to daily life on Earth and stuff. That’s Little Homeworld.”

“So much has happened and I wasn’t there to see any of it.” She contemplates. “I don’t really know how to take all of the changes.” “If it makes you feel any better at all, the majority of this happened in the last three years.”

“It doesn’t, but.. wait the last three years!? That’s absurd.” She raises her eyebrows in confusion. “No one has ever challenged the Diamonds like that before with any results.”

“Well, when you’re your own mother, things kinda end up different.” You kick your leg out, watching it swing in the breeze.

“I’m gonna need you to explain that a little better, because it doesn’t make any sense to me.” She stares at you, furrowing her eyebrows. “How did Pink Diamond disappear?”

“Er,” You cough into your hand, unsure how to explain this properly. “So, I’m gonna try to keep this short since it’s a long story. It didn’t start with Steven.” 

“Huh?” She seems pretty engaged now.

“Yeah, it was Pink herself. Once she got her colony on Earth, she realized that there were organic beings here and she no longer wanted to harm it. That didn’t go over well with the other Diamonds at all, as you can imagine. So.. she staged a rebellion to save the planet after faking her own shattering.”

“What?” She says, disbelief written all over her face. “There was a rebellion!? How much did I miss?” 

“You said you were waiting for her for what, six thousand years? The rebellion actually happened a few hundred years after she initially left you, I think. Because that was over five thousand years ago.” 

She stares at you, blinking. You know it’s a lot to take in.

“Anyway, she disguised herself as a Rose quartz, the leader of the Crystal Gems against the  rebellion. The one who shattered a Diamond. War lasts a thousand years, but the Earth wins. After that, she stays on Earth with the Crystal Gems for a couple thousand years while the Diamonds continue their tirade across the rest of the universe.”

“Okay, but where does Steven come in?” She asks.

“I’m getting to that, I told you it’s a long story.” You roll your eyes at her. “She met Greg around twenty five years ago, and decided she wanted to have a kid with him.”

“Who’s Greg?”

“A human.” 

“She.. had a kid with a human.” The look of utter confusion on her face is absolutely hilarious. “How.”

“You know how organic beings reproduce right?” You ask her with a slight smirk.

“Yes, I know how mating works for biological beings. I just didn’t know that it was possible.. for a gem and a human..” You watch her trail off a bit, color rising in her cheeks.

“Well, there was a catch, kinda. Gems don’t reproduce the same way humans do, so.. she shapeshifted herself a womb I’m guessing, and when it was time for him to be born she gave up her physical form.”

“She didn’t.. die?” She asks, squinting her eyes. The sun casts long shadows against the floor. 

“No, it wasn’t a death really. That’s why it was so hard for the rest of the gems to adjust to Pink being gone. Steven has her powers, so everyone assumed that he was just Pink Diamond. It caused.. so many problems.” You sigh, and blow some hair out of your face. The wind makes your fringe tickle your nose annoyingly. “Anyway, he fought a lot of gems to get this far, but eventually he got the Diamonds to understand him. So.. now there’s no more colonizing, no more planet destroying, no more forced labor. Gems are free to do whatever they want now. That’s what Steven managed to accomplish all by showing some giant space tyrants how to love themselves and others properly.”

Spinel stares at your face for a long moment, deep in thought.

“I.. really regret the way I reacted to everything after learning the truth. Anger fueled me so much that I..“ She breaks eye contact with you. “I am sorry for trying to kill Steven. I hope you know.”

You watch her for several seconds, fumbling with her fingers anxiously in her lap.

“I know.” You speak up. “There’s nothing you can do about it now, but I forgive you. If that means anything.” 

She looks up and her eyes meet yours, relieved expression on her face, and there are some unspoken words that pass between you two. 

“Oh,” She speaks up. “That explains what went on this entire time, but not about you.” “Right, back to that.” You clear your throat, pushing away any weird feelings. “I never had a good relationship with my biological family, so I started basically living with the Crystal Gems a few months after becoming Steven’s babysitter. And from there on, I was honestly just his bodyguard. Kid has been close to encountering death too many times to count for my liking.”

“..how old are you?” She asks you apprehensively. 

“22..” You squint your eyes at her. “Why?”

“I would’ve felt even worse about taking you if you were much younger than that. I can never tell with organics.” She sheepishly rubs the back of her head.

“How old are you?” 

“Wayyy older than you.” She answers with a shrug. “Hard to keep count.”

“That’s.. fair.” You reply, leaning most of your weight on your knee. You watch the jungle in the distance, feeling your stomach ache in hunger. “Should probably head back down soon, even if I’d rather jump down to be honest. My knees are killing me.”

“You’d die.” She glares at you disdainfully.

“Eh, I’d be fine.” You reply in jest, and chuckle. “I’d walk it off.”

“You wouldn’t even have legs.” She lifts herself off the ground from her sitting position, mindful of the edge she’s near. The drop below is quite a distance. “Let alone the ability to walk.”

She turns to you and offers you a hand, almost shy in its nature. You look at her for a moment, watching the facets of her gem sparkle in the sunlight, twintails gently swaying in the breeze. You reach out and grasp her hand, and she looks almost surprised that you’ve taken it. You brush yourself off once you lift yourself off the stone ground, wobbling slightly on your legs.

“I’m sure I’d be fine. Pretty sure I’m invincible.” You cock an eyebrow at her, and turn to head down the stairs. 

By the time it takes you to walk over to the top of the staircase, you realize Spinel isn’t next to you. You turn around to see that she’s still standing in the same position near the edge, hand still out slightly, and staring at you with a strange expression.

“Uh.. you coming?” You ask her. She shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just lost in thought for a moment there.” She says as she catches up to you, and you both take the stairs together.

You both chat about nothing in particular on your way back down, and you find the time passing fairly quickly. Quickly enough to get back down to the base level before you realize that you were going to ask her about the parts in the crates a few floors up.

“Oh shoot, I actually found some stuff up there earlier I was going to ask you about actually. You managed to distract me enough on the way back down that I forgot about it.” You turn to face her.

“Not my fault. I ain’t a mind reader.” She raises an eyebrow at you, walking back over to the console immediately. “We can go back up later sometime. It’s not as if this place is goin’ anywhere.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just tired I guess.” You walk over to the food that you had set down earlier, picking up a piece of fruit and bringing it up to your face to take a bite. “Did it finish doing it’s restoration yet?”

“Yeah actually. I’m loading the files right now.” 

You watch her eyes flit back and forth over the screen in concentration. It looks like she’s reading whatever text is on the screen. You take a bite of the fruit, chewing it slowly, watching Spinel’s face as she flips through whatever data logs she’s looking at. Maybe you should’ve let Pearl actually teach you the gem language back when she offered to a couple years ago. Back then, you thought you’d never have use for it, but.. hindsight’s a bitch. Can’t do anything about it now.

Spinel’s eyebrows furrow a bit further as she narrows her eyes at the screen in front of her. After a few seconds, she looks up and catches your gaze.

“Ya’ might wanna see this.”

#spinel x reader #spinel #su #Steven Universe #self insert #distant lands #fic #my fic

[toshootforthestars]

From the essay by Ryan Cooper, posted 16 Nov 2020:

...in Vietnam, there is no raging coronavirus pandemic. Thanks to swift action from the government, that nation squelched its initial outbreak, and has so far successfully contained all subsequent infection clusters before they got out of hand. Its figures at time of writing (which have been confirmed as reliable by outside sources) show a mere 1,283 cases and 35 deaths, and no community transmission for the last 75 days. Life for Vietnamese people has returned to normal, with a few sensible precautions. If their success holds for a few more months until a vaccine can be deployed, Vietnam will have dodged the pandemic nearly perfectly.

Given Vietnam's high population and very high density — it has over 96 million people crammed into an area about the size of New Mexico — numerous long borders, including one with the country where the pandemic started, and relatively impoverished economy, it has turned in arguably the most impressive performance of any country in the world. Most of the other star performers, like Taiwan or New Zealand, are rich islands and hence much easier to isolate from the world (though nearby Thailand has done nearly as well).

Meanwhile in the self-appointed "land of the free," on Sunday the seven-day average of daily COVID-19 deaths was 1,148. The same seven-day average of new cases has increased from about 82,000 on November 1 to over 150,000 on Sunday — numbers that are certainly a large underestimate, because, with very high test positivity rates across much of the country, many cases are being missed. Total recorded deaths in the U.S. are over 250,000, which again is a large under-count. There are many more future deaths already baked in, and infections are mounting exponentially in almost every state. Unless something changes, and fast, the coronavirus pandemic will surpass the Second World War to become the greatest American mass casualty event since the influenza pandemic of 1918.

The bleak irony of American life is our boastful and hyperbolic national conception of liberty has left us as one of the most unfree peoples on the globe. There can be no freedom without government, a lesson currently being inscribed in blood, and stacked up in the mobile morgues that are overflowing with corpses in more cities around the country every day.

As an American, the months since March have felt like living in Airstrip One, the miserable police state formerly known as Britain in George Orwell's 1984. In that time I have seldom left my house for fear of catching the virus, or worse, spreading it to someone who is at risk and killing (or permanently disabling) them. I have not seen my family since October 2019 for the same reason. In a best-case scenario, I will not see them until the middle of next year — something like 2 percent of my entire lifespan, optimistically speaking. It looks like even the occasional outdoor dining I savored as a small bright spot over the summer will be shut down soon, with cases spiking badly in my home city of Philadelphia.

All the political freedoms I supposedly enjoy as an American citizen are useless in the face of this unending tsunami of death and misery. The plain fact is that the average resident of Vietnam — under a repressive dictatorship, let me emphasize — has more freedoms in the places where, for most people, it really counts: the freedom to leave the house, the freedom to see and touch one's family and friends, the freedom to go to a restaurant or a bar or a movie or a concert, and simply the freedom from constant grasping fear of invisible death.

Let me be clear: The point of the comparison here is not to say that authoritarian rule is necessary for containing the virus. On the contrary, part of the reason the virus escaped in the first place was because authoritarian officials in China tried to hide it at first (though they later turned things around, as I will discuss below). And as noted above, Taiwan and New Zealand are democracies and have also done very well. South Korea, Australia, and Japan have struggled somewhat more than Vietnam, but thus far have also kept the virus largely in check. A few European democracies like Finland and Norway have done fairly well, and while most others on that continent are suffering a catastrophic second wave (worse than I predicted, alas), they have recently adopted a second lockdown which is beginning to slow the spread.

The point is that the United States is getting rinsed in providing liberty to its citizens — supposedly the entire point of its existence, according to its founding documents — by a bunch of dictatorial Communists.

The United States, once again, stands virtually alone among nations with its obdurate refusal to do anything about the galloping pandemic at the national level.

Now, part of that is President Trump's singular incompetence. Since surviving the virus — thanks to cutting-edge experimental treatment only he could get at the time — he has progressed from not doing anything about the virus to effectively trying to spread it personally. He held dozens of huge campaign rallies, even after one in June infected hundreds of people. An election night watch party recently became the second super-spreader event hosted at the White House.

Even halting, timid efforts to stop hospitals from being utterly overwhelmed at the state and local level are running into stiff resistance from reactionary lunatics.

Almost every single Republican governor has preemptively refused to follow President-elect Biden's guidance on imposing mask rules, even as their own operatives and elderly representatives fall sick from the virus. New York Governor Cuomo's weeks-late and unenforceable order banning gatherings larger than 10 people inspired a Republican New York City councilman to gleefully announce on Twitter that his Thanksgiving celebrations would have more people than that. The order is an "odious infringement on personal liberty," moaned the libertarian writer Robby Soave at Reason.

In South Dakota, where the hospitals are already full to bursting with new cases still accelerating, the blithely apathetic Governor Kristi Noem insists that masks are a matter of personal choice. Newly elected QAnon nutcase Rep. Marjorie Taylor Green (R-Ga.) boasted of refusing to wear a mask during congressional orientation.

In short, while it is a minority movement, the most fervent, dedicated, and effective political mobilization in this country is organized around stopping the government from saving the lives of its citizens.

As I have previously written, the signature American view of liberty emerges from a cramped and extreme version of 19th-century liberal theory. American conservatives and libertarians often assert that one has liberty when the government is not "interfering" with whatever one feels like doing, regardless of circumstance.

#food for thought #ryan cooper #the week #coronavirus #america 2021 #covidー19 #please wear a mask #social distancing #wear a fucking mask people #the conservative movement is out of control #republicans #the conservative movement #us politics #public health #news

[thevoilinauttheory]

FFXIVWrite2020 Prompt #13 - Extra Credit

Character(s): Caromont Allard, Astrid Allard; a couple unnamed tutors and teachers. Setting: Sharlayan (Motherland); approximately 1475 of the Sixth Astral Era -- approximately 1480 of the Sixth Astral Era -- approximately 1494 of the Sixth Astral Era, just before the events of Prompt #22 What: Caromont is introduced to his new abilities, much to his dismay. Content Warnings: Explicit physical and emotional, familial, abuse; implications of trauma Author Notes: My spouse wanted more Caromont lore, so I used it as my extra credit prompt. Honestly, that’s all I gotta say. I had fun writing this one, because Caromont is my “enigma” character. Everything about him is hidden under the veil of the classic case of amnesia, but even if he does remember - no one ever knows, he doesn’t communicate if he’s remembered anything or not. So even in my private RP with my spouse, he’s still something of a mysterious character. --

Violet eyes cast a glance outside of the window of his classroom, it was a nice day. He was stuck here. Again. And again. And again. Everyday it was the same thing. When the click of a switch against the podium at the front assaulted his ears, he flipped the page of the book in front of him with no regard to the words written. Another snap, another page. There were whispers of other students beside him - he paid no mind. There were clouds to watch and he was far more interested in those. Crack, flip. Whap, flip. 

“Allard!”

The boy’s head whipped to the front suddenly, his attention drawn by the sudden shout of his name. When he realized it was just his teacher, his posture relaxed, eyes squinting into a pure sense of utter boredom. He exuded it as he slid his arm over his desk to rest his head on his fist. The eye contact showed that he was listening… at least more intently than before, yet he said no words. His teacher walked her way to his desk, snatching up his textbook.

“The answer to number four, please.”

A deliberate attempt to sabotage him, taking away the text he paid no attention to and asking a question on it. It would’ve made any student fluster, yet the boy didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. “Teleporting is breaking down your aether and confluencing it with the Lifestream, carrying you to your destination so long as you don’t break contact with your thoughts. There are dangers to teleporting, such as losing focus and losing self - where your aether cannot conjoin together. Other effects can be severe aether sickness, crystal sickness, and possibly ending up at a different location.” Before any words could be spoken, he continued. “Aether sickness is caused by an increased intake of aether, causing a variety of symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, migraines, dizziness, vertigo, and temporary blind and deafness. There is no known cure for aether sickness, and it’s recommended to just let it pass. If it does not, though, a transfer of aether can be used to reduce the amount of aether stored in another’s body.” A sharp inhale. “This can also lead to aether deprivation, where there is too low of aether in another’s body; causing malnourishment, lack of appetite, inability to move certain body parts, loss of certain bodily functions, and numbness - death, within a matter of bells or suns.”

His eyes turned back to the window. “Answers four, five, and six. I am paying attention, and I dislike that you are accusing me of not.”

His teacher let out a soft sigh, setting his book down, then returned to the front of the class - allowing the child to continue daydreaming in peace.

When his classmates filed out at the first sound of the bell, he gathered up his belongings slowly and meandered his way to the door. “Caromont.” “Mm?” “Stay here, your mother will be arriving shortly.” “What did I do wrong? I answered your questions, did I not?” She shook her head. “It’s for both praise and punishment. You’re above your class clearly, but it feels as if you’re not invested in this path.” “I am not, I would much rather be doing something else.” “Then why do you continue?” “My mother wants me to. It’s the best way to make money and take care of my family.”

There was another shake of her head, yet she gestured to the door. “Take a seat outside.”

When his mother appeared, near stomping down the hall; heels clicking- he hated that noise. She could afford nice heels, but not a proper bed for her children. Nice clothes, nice makeup. In his loathing, he neglected to realize she was right beside him and a hard yank on one of his ears made him cry out. “What did you do this time! Ungrateful child, I send you to school and you do nothing but get in trouble!” “I do not want to be here, regardless! Let go!” He tried to pry her hand off, but her nails caught the cartilage, causing a sob to break from him. “Stop!”

“Mrs. Allard, if you please.” His teacher caught her before a hand could crack over his face - a save he couldn’t have been more grateful for. She seemed to recognize the situation, then smiled. “There is naught for him to be punished. I wanted to give only praise and a proposition.” A change in her previous statement. “Is that right? Why didn’t you say so before?” His mother let go of his ear, following his teacher inside the classroom while he was left outside to tend to his injured and now bleeding ear.

“I wished to convey just how brilliant your son is, he is far ahead of his peers in his aetherology studies - and I believe he is ready to move on to higher skills. Might I suggest astrology? He seems keen on being outside, and studies regarding the stars would allow him that enrichment he needs. He could be Sharlayan’s greatest healer with just a bit more effort and motivation from outside sources, such as his family.” She stacked up some papers, sitting herself down at her desk. “I can provide the necessary documentation of his successes, and present it to the head of the board. He’ll be ready to move on by next moon. Until then, I would have him stay and take tutoring classes to help him further. No extra charge, I assure you.”

“I see… if you believe he’s got that much talent wasting away in him, I suppose moving him forward wouldn’t hurt. Tutoring - if he’s so brilliant, then why--” “Because he will be entering in the middle of the school year, Mrs. Allard, and he will need to catch up on everything his new peers have already learned. Just because he has mastered this class does not mean he is a born master of every other class. You expect too much of the boy, he needs to be nurtured, and he needs to grow; and I will be frank with you - you are stifling him. Do not get in his way, or you will be the cause of the rift between you and your family.”

--

“Take your reading now, Caromont - allow yourself to connect with the gates as we last practiced. Your first reading is always the most important, to see your progress.” His mentor sat on the other side of the desk from him, watching intently to Caromont’s now bright-eyed enthusiasm to his new path. He hadn’t thought of astrology - while Sharlayan was well known for their astrologians, he never considered something like that to speak to him.

The first card was flipped over. “The Spire.” He spoke softly, and he allowed the card to speak. It hurt at first. He rubbed at his temples and within a few seconds his head hit the table as if he had fallen asleep there. His mentor quickly stood to check on him, frightened that something might have gone wrong - but when his head snapped back upright with his eyes wide, he turned to his mentor in tears. “...I- I-... I am sorry… I did not mean…” “What is wrong, child? Dear heavens, I thought you had performed a spell wrong.” “N-No.. I just. My reading is for you… and this position is the past, with the Spire, and… I saw. I saw what happened, I…” “Saw? You saw the past with the flip of a card?” “I just wanted them to speak to me…” “Cards don’t speak, Caromont. The stars do. I think… we may need a different tutor for you. I do not know if there is anyone with your talent, but. I do know that we have a section of professors and students all learning about an innate ability we have called the “Echo”. I would like to make certain that if you do have the Echo, you have a proper tutor to teach you about it - despite the fact that it manifests differently in everyone.” He gestured to the cards again. “Sit upright this time, against the back of the chair instead of forward. Close your eyes after drawing the card.”

He followed. The next card was drawn. “The Spear.” Immediately, he closed his eyes; still the tears fell. He shook his head as his eyes opened again. “...Maybe I should not do readings on you… I see too much.”

--

“No, this isn’t the Echo.” “Are you sure? What other explanation could there be for such a talent?”

Caromont was the talk of the Studium. Professors and peers wanted to know more about his ability - this was the day that his enthusiasm turned to responsibility. He hadn’t realized it yet. 

“The stars speak right to him!” Those were the rumors. There had to be more, a person, or magic… something was doing this to him. He delved in libraries for years to tell him, what was he, what was he supposed to do? Everyday it was another person in need of help - everyday he had to make the choice whether someone should live or die - how heavy a burden on a man barely thirty winters old. Was this his fate and destiny? His cards were blank when he tried to read them for himself - like the stars only spoke through him, rather than to him.

He stood out in the dark, up at the sky did his eyes turn. He was never a wishful thinker, he was studious, uptight, he had to be the responsible one. This was the night he cried. He cried and he cried - how many more times would he have to sentence people to their deaths, how many more times would he have to tell people that there was nothing he could do. He would take the fates into his hands time and time again, always promising to never do so again. Everytime, the consequences of doing so would be worse than the original outcome - the fates ever escaping his grasp. He only wanted to help, why was he burdened with this responsibility?

#ffxivwrite2020 #prompt #history will be written #reading the stars #about: Caromont Allard

[turtle-paced]

A lot has been made out of Stannis' supposed meritocracy due to his respect for a smuggler, a former slave, and a couple of bastards. But to me none of it seems very extraordinary. Cersei has Qyburn, Aurane, the Kettleblacks and Taena. Robert had Varys. Renly and Robb were cool with women fighting for them. Pretty much everyone around Dany isn't a conventional adviser pick. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Am I off the mark here, or is Stannis fandom just seeing what they want to see?

Sorry, anon, I think you’re off the mark in several respects here. Not entirely off the mark - Dany’s picks aren’t conventional, but neither is her situation; we’ll see who she relies on when she has noble, male, Westerosi options in Westeros and I don’t think we’ll be disappointed  - but off the mark nevertheless.

Cut for length.

First, I think we have to distinguish between allowing people to fight on your behalf, and appointing people to trusted council positions/informal equivalent. There’s a substantial difference between the role Catelyn played in Robb’s councils and the role Dacey played (or, rather, didn’t). Even then, Catelyn did  not get her position in that room by force of personality and wits alone - being Robb’s mother is what got her foot in that door. 

Renly, of course, saw Brienne as a meat shield. As Loras reports:

“I asked him why he kept her close, if he thought her so grotesque. He said that all his other knights wanted things of him, castles or honors or riches, but all that Brienne wanted was to die for him.”

- Jaime VIII, ASoS

That is not what I’d call progressive.

Second, we have to distinguish the role of Master of Whisperers from literally every other council position. Ned’s chapters in AGoT go furthest to explaining how and why.

"Ser Jorah is now in Pentos, anxious to earn a royal pardon that would allow him to return from exile,” Robert explained. “Lord Varys makes good use of him.”

“So the slaver has become a spy,” Ned said with distaste. He handed the letter back. “I would rather he become a corpse.”

“Varys tells me that spies are more useful than corpses,” Robert said.

- Eddard II, AGoT

Spying is against Westerosi honour codes. Spying is also necessary. Having someone to run the spy network is equally necessary, but it’s not a role for a man of status. It’s a job for someone who’s not of status, someone who’s totally reliant on their master for their position. Varys remained in his position because he was useful and, should it prove necessary, disposable.

Finally, Cersei. Cersei’s a different matter.

My councillors. Cersei had uprooted every rose, and all those beholden to her uncle and her brothers. In their places were men whose loyalty would be to her. She had even given them new styles, borrowed from the Free Cities; the queen would have no “masters” at court beside herself. 

- Cersei IV, AFFC

Cersei’s picking these men because they are lower status than she is, and because she can keep them lower status than she is. That’s not selecting and promoting by merit. That’s stacking her court with toadies, and everyone can see it from a mile away.

As for her relationship with Taena…Cersei’s association with Taena, on Cersei’s part, is an ugly mess of sex, violence, and the exercise of power. Not any sort of egalitarian or meritocratic impulse. Oh boy, is egalitarianism so not the motivation behind Cersei’s treatment of Taena.

Davos and Melisandre, in contrast to Catelyn, are self-made individuals. (This isn’t a knock on Catelyn, it’s just a social truth - she was born a Tully of Riverrun and that’s got some advantages to it.) Davos’ skill brought him to Stannis’ attention, and subsequent good service took him higher. Melisandre used her wits and charisma to attain the influence she has. They are both intelligent, strong-willed, meritorious advisors - who would have stayed at the bottom of the heap had they been in the court of someone less willing to recognise that merit.

Key also in Stannis’ promotion of Davos is this exchange:

“I am lowborn,” Davos reminded him. “An upjumped smuggler. Your lords will never obey me.”

“Then we will make new lords.”

- Davos IV, ASoS

This is not just being willing to promote Davos, that’s being willing to tell people who don’t think Davos’ promotion is appropriate due to his social class where they can shove it. Regardless of their social status.

In contrast to Cersei, Stannis hasn’t taken lower-status people into his confidence and councils because they’re bootlickers. It’s most noticeable with Davos and Jon Snow that Stannis thinks highly of them because they’re willing to stand up to him. Even if they’ve done something he doesn’t like or doesn’t agree with, what Stannis can rely on in them is their integrity. We have less information about Melisandre’s relationship with Stannis, but she’s certainly no pushover either, and she’s fine with proving her worth.

This (post-ACoK, mostly) willingness to listen to and promote smart, strong-willed, competent people, because of their good service and for their continued good service, regardless of their surnames or social origins, really is remarkable on Stannis’ part, compared to most every other would-be ruler in the series thus far.

#ASoIaF #valyrianscrolls #cw: rape mention #stannis baratheon #davos seaworth #melisandre #cersei lannister #renly baratheon #catelyn stark #jon snow #a clash of kings #a storm of swords #a feast for crows #a dance with dragons #asks

[maddmuses]

Mei “Mai Fuller” Fukaya

(fc: Yanin Jeeja)

Age: 19 Date of Birth: April 3rd, 1988 Occupation: SOLDIER (1st Class), Assistant Noodle Chef/Noodle Puller (Former) Species: Mako-Enhanced Human

Universe-Inspiration: Final Fantasy VII/Remake inspired

Appearance Mei is a tall young woman of apparent Wutanian descent. Though it isn’t obvious, she’s able to pass for Midgarian without the knowledge of her name. With almond-shaped eyes, and hair both of a soft brown color, going with medium tone skin. Standing at roughly 6 feet tall, Mei stands as tall, or taller than, many other members of SOLDIER. Possessed of gentle features, Mei is prone to grinning, making for an approachable warrior, on the PR front.

With a muscular form, Mei often has an imposing air to her, with a number of individuals finding her too intimidating to approach, particularly in her 3rd and 2nd Class days, when Mei continued to elect to wear her helmet as per standard issue. Mei’s hands are also notable for being calloused in both the typical SOLDIER way, but also in the heel of her palms, and bends of her fingers, developed from a childhood and early adolescence of making noodles by hand daily. Running along both of her arms, and other key areas on her body, are scars with a slight discoloration (slightly light compared to surrounding skin) from years of training and missions.

Much like other members of 1st Class, Mei is able to modify her uniform and use personal equipment as she sees fit. Generally, Mei will utilize Gunblades of various make, commissioning and modifying a number of models for a variety of situations, seeming to spend the majority of her pay on these weapons, which are a point of pride for the woman.

While on missions Mei will usually wear fatigues that would be considered “standard” to 1st Class, though wearing silver straps, in a similar fashion to Sephiroth and Genesis, across the chest. Additionally, she will also wear a white trench coat designed with an intricate sigil in the center of the back, that reads as her surname in Wutai. On the shoulders of this jacket are a set of pauldrons, wrought from steel but with a silver-like appearance, the left made in the effigy of a dragon, and the right a tiger.

Personality Growing up in the slums of Midgar, Mei always felt a certain detachment to her heritage, through her father’s absence, and being so far from her mother’s homeland. While Mari, her mother, attempted to keep her as connected to this as possible, particularly through having her spend a great amount of time at Mari’s noodle cart in Sector 6. While Mei is possessed of a certain nostalgia for her motherland, she was still somewhat influenced by the Shinra propaganda that caused the young woman to associate the Wutai as having fallen into a bad place, misguided by selfish and foolish leadership. Seeing Midgar as her home, even if the people have treated her poorly when they knew of her lineage during the war, Mei always aspired to be like the heroes who protected their homelands, regardless of sides.

As a child, Mei’s favorite story was about the great warrior Mei Huang, who her mother named her after, a legendary figure who had helped defend Wutai by fighting off invading warlords, while taking a spot in the army meant for her father. Inspired by this tale, Mei decided that she would enlist in Shinra’s armed forces, aiming to join SOLDIER, the elite that were regarded as just as legendary as Huang Mei. With this, Mei hold others with similar goals in mind as her with the highest regard, even if they’re enemies. While she does not often split hairs over things like honor, she will often extend that cordiality to those that are like-minded to her, in this sense.

A passionate person, Mei pursues her interests and desires with a single-mindedness that often gets her into trouble with superiors, or missions dispatchers. While this nature can make her an asset in combat and other situations, it’s also just as deadly, as she can be steered off of her intended path by piquing her interest on some sort of other subject, such as a rivalry, feud, or threats to Midgar.

While initially intimidating, because of her height and build, most people tend to find that Mei’s actually a sweet person who enjoys simple things in life, such as training, cooking, and eating (though not necessarily in that order). With a strong sense of family, Mei cares for her mother above all else, though occasionally laments the fact that the mako treatments have removed from her the choice as to whether she could someday have children. While it was something she never thought to want, the option’s removal was something she had been blindsided by, and wasn’t ready for the loss of.

Biography The daughter of a Wutai immigrant, who sought out the city of Midgar as a means of improving her lot and life, and hoping to send gil home to her family, and a mechanic who specialized in portable restaurants, Mei Fukaya grew up in the Sector 6 slums. A rough part of the city, Sector 6 is known for being the night life of the slums, but also it is known for producing some of the more worldly and savvy citizens of Midgar.

Though Mei had two parents, her father would die before she was the age of two, leaving her mother a single parent. Her mother, Mari Fukaya, was left in a far from enviable position. As many attractive women in the slums do, Mari moonlit at the Honey Bee Inn, so as to bring home what extra money she could, while running the noodle cart that her dead lover had taught her how to build in the days. Mari was not the kind of person who would let others push her around easily, though, and she was well-known for chasing dine-and-dashers with a knife.

Mei grew up around the restaurant, protected from the reality that this day job actually brought in very little money, and was more for Mari’s passion than her livelihood, working every day to help her mother once she was old enough to begin pulling noodles. As they spent their mornings making noodles together, Mari would often tell her daughter of stories from their homeland, one that especially stuck out to Mei, and would become her favorite and later inspiration to join Shinra’s forces, was the story of Mei Huang, the great warrior who disguised herself as a man to help fight off invading warlords.

Shinra’s attempts to justify the Wutai war to the public would have unforeseen consequences to the city’s Wutai-descended population as well, though. Mei and her mother were often distrusted, with many daytime customers intentionally avoiding their cart, and the majority of Mari’s money at the Honey Bee came from special interest clients, as her tips would dwindle, as customers who were similarly leery of Wutai would often stiff her. This made it hard for Mei to get along with her peer group, though as the war went on, and the narrative began to shift to one that treated the Wutai of Midgar as progressive and right-minded citizens, Mei began to play down her own heritage around other people. Though she worked in a noodle cart, she was just as Midgarian as others, more even, because she was going to be in SOLDIER someday.

By the age of 8, Mei was expected to man the cart at night, so that Mari could still go to work. It was at this time that she learned of her mother’s second job, and she realized just how difficult things had been for the person that cared about her the most. She’d lived a selfish life until that point, and just as much as she was Mari’s most precious person, her mother would become hers.

Before school, every day, Mei would help her mother prep noodles for that day, attend lessons, return home and prepare additional noodles for that night, if needed, before leaving for the cart to relieve her mother.

At school and among her peers, Mei had adopted the nickname Mai, so as to come off as more Midgarian. This was something that her mother didn’t especially care for, but something she was still permitted to do. While working for her mother, Mei would often hear things from the adults who traveled to Wall Market, and would even meet other Wutai immigrants. Some nights they were simply out of ingredients, and Mei would experience things such as the coliseumS and other parts of Sector 6’s night life that was appropriate for a child.

On several occasions Mei had even met Andrea Rhodea, though each time he remarked that “disappointingly” she probably wouldn’t be suited for the position as one of his dancers, as her mother had issued a threat of death to anyone who attempted to recruit her into any parts of the nightlife.

By the age of 13 Mei was often mistook for an adult, as she was taller than even some men, allowing her to effectively pass for her mother Mari, resulting in a return to fewer dine-and-dashes, as the assumption was that they would be chased with a knife now that “the brat isn’t manning the cart anymore.” It was at about this time that others started taking her assertions of someday becoming SOLDIER more seriously, though the accepted lore was that there was a reason one didn’t see many women SOLDIER operatives.

Still, at 15, Mei left home to enlist into the organization, using an adopted pseudonym, based on the nickname she’d given herself, “Mai Fuller”. While it wasn’t unusual for Shinra to allow women into their infantry, the odds were already stacked against Mei, as not only had it been basically unheard of for women to be promoted into SOLDIER, but the standards following the Genesis defections were made to be even more strict. Despite this, though, Mei’s performance during the Infantry Training program displayed that her potential and use as a part of the next wave of SOLDIER was too good to pass up.

If she was to be a hero like Huang Mei, she was going to have to be no less.

Enlisted into the SOLDIER program, Mei underwent the procedures to make her 3rd Class, only to be told after the case that the hormone therapy and exposure to mako effectively rendered her sterile. This detail was tested and determined to be the case with her, just as previous potential recruits. In order to keep with her assumed identity, though Shinra knew better personally, Mei still used her fake name while in 2nd and 3rd while never removing her helmet while wearing her uniform. Oftentimes, due to her height and muscular build, Mei was mistook for a man when her face wasn’t visible.

As she worked in SOLDIER for the next three years, Mei rose through the ranks quickly, achieving 1st Class at 18. Mei’s specialty included leading infantry and infiltrating enemy operations. Espionage is something that Mei’s wheelhouse included, particularly as a part of Wutai infiltration. Similarly, she has been known to find her way into terrorist operations in the past. Though she wasn’t as hugely shown off to the population as the 1st Classes of the past, she is still notorious enough for her use of the Gunblade that she’s attracted her own following and fan club (Shinra instigated of course) that has resulted in the surge of popularity in her style of weapon. Accordingly, her position as a Wutai member of SOLDIER has made for a strong piece of propaganda, with the Shinra organization using her as proof that Wutai have, largely, showing fealty to Midgar.

Abilities and Skills -Chef: Prior to joining Shinra’s armed forces, Mei was taught by her mother how to cook, so that she could assist her at the family noodle cart in Wall Market. Specifically, Mei often made the broths and pulled the noodles, which was hard on her mother’s hands, which reflects in her own forearm strength and ability to multitask, as the cart served a number of different soups that she had to prepare at the same time, in order to get the cart ready for dinner and lunch rushes.

-Mechanical Skills: While not an expert, or even able to repair extensively damaged equipment, working with a Gunblade requires at least some mechanical ability. Mei’s is such that she’s able to modify her weapon for specific purposes, though not to such a degree that they become a functionally different weapon.

-Shinra Training: As is standard for SOLDIER operatives, Mei enlisted into the infantry program initially, but during said program was pulled for specialized SOLDIER training, when it was determined she was a suitable candidate. Accordingly, she’s a specialist in combat missions, and particularly specialized in infiltration, as her Wutai heritage suits her to acting as a double agent in the continent. Due to the differing standards of the SOLDIER program following the Genesis desertion, not only was more expected of Mei’s generation of SOLDIER candidates, but their training was that more extreme, so as to compensate for the ending of the use of Jenova Cells. -Physical Conditioning: Prior to her Mako-Infusing, Mei was exceptional in her physical abilities, notably having strong lifting and punching force, from having been handling noodle dough from the age of four, coupled with her more focused training when she shifted her interests to joining SOLDIER. -Martial Arts: Though she has had little formal training prior to her enlistment, Mei is considered an above-average martial artist in terms of technique, having studied from watching gladiators in Sector 6 do battle, and having learned from other Wutai immigrants, what things they knew. After her enlistment into SOLDIER Mei sought out hand-to-hand training so as to supplement her use of the unwieldy swords that she didn’t especially favor. -Swordsmanship: In a lesser degree, Mei also studied some swordplay, though limited access to weaponry prior to enlistment limited her ability to delve into this subject. Following her joining SOLDIER, though, she became something of a specialist, preferring arming swords as a rule, or weapons of a roughly similar length. By the time she was promoted to 1st Class, though, she was not only hyper-capable with swords, as should be expected of someone at that level, but also was able to use a Gunblade, and a style oriented specifically to maximize the force generated by pulling its trigger, and its bullets, which she can infuse with mana for a number of effects. -Firearms: As a part of her infantry training, Mei is proficient with firearms, a skill that she remained brushed up on even after her promotion to SOLDIER, which reflects in her current use of Gunblades. -Biking: A component of the SOLDIER training program expects its participants to be able riders on high-performance motorcycles, so that they may patrol the highways of Midgar. As a 1st Class SOLDIER, Mei is not only able to ride most motorcycles, but she is considered very skilled in their use, being able to ride along vertical surfaces confidently, though her abilities in fighting while riding these vehicles are less confident.

-Materia Attunement: A common practice in Midgar, and most regions of Gaea, Mei is able to slot materia into her equipment. She does this, in addition to the more typical process of SOLDIER operatives attuning their materia directly to their bodies. As-is the case with other SOLDIER members, she didn’t require as much training or time to make her materia stronger, and is even able to absorb extra materia into herself, and become stronger from it. When maximizing a materia’s level, like with others, Mei’s materia produces an additional piece of materia of that same kind. -Materia Fusion: With the appropriate equipment, Mei is able to fuse materia together, so long as they’ve been developed sufficient to be fuse-able.

Superhuman Powers and Abilities -SOLDIER Enhancements: After the ending of the Jenova Project’s application in SOLDIER, there were still innovations and advancements in the process of enhancing humans with mako. Unlike the archaic process of showering in the liquid, modern SOLDIER candidates are treated with a combination of injections, radiation, and the like, using the radiation as an attempt to tamper the effects of poisoning and maximizing the chanes of success for any potential operatives. While not as extreme an enhancement as Jenova-hybriding that was previously observed, the more extreme conditioning that Mei was put through, as well as the still-intense process of mako treatments allows Mei to execute superhuman feats of a similar level to SOLDIER operatives of older generations. A notable side-effect of the treatments, though, has rendered Mei infertile.

-Mana-Infusing: A technique that she developed from studying fighting styles that employed firing magical blasts, Mei developed a technique in which she infuses her mana into the cartridges of her Gunblades, enabling her trigger pulls to result in actual firing of shots, as well as causing the recoil to be more forceful when she uses them to enhance her swings.

-Limit Breaks: Mei’s Limit Breaks are all damaging in nature, often resembling those of Squall Leonhart, as well as a style of Limit Break that relies on firing explosive rounds that are set to detonate on a delay to weave complex combos with her rounds and blade that also deal devastating damage.

Equipment and Possessions -SOLDIER Fatigues: Aside from her modifications to the uniform, Mei wears the standard issue 1st Class uniform, lacking the more popular breastplate that many SOLDIER operatives wear. -Trench Coat: Tailored specifically to hold additional cartridges within it, without being apparent. This jacket is long, white, and is embroidered with black flames at the tail, with her surname written in Wutai down between the shoulders. -Pauldrons: Metal plated with silver, these are both designed as effigies of a dragon’s face and a tiger’s respectively. While they don’t add any exceptional defensive quality, Mei has been known to use them to turn fatal blows into glancing ones in the past.

-SOLDIER Sword: Though she often prefers more personalized armaments, Mei is sometimes known to carry the standard-issue broadswords as a backup arm. -Gunblades: Mei frequently uses a number of different Gunblade designs that she’s either newly commissioned, or tweaked from an existing one, the style of Gunblade that she prefers are those that enhance their striking power through the recoil generated by pulling the trigger. Though, Mei is able to charge her loaded ammo to make the rounds behave more like bullets and explosives.

-Various Materia: As a member of SOLDIER, Mei have access to a wealth of materia that she slots for a variety of purposes and uses. Based on other lower-class SOLDIER and other 1st Class SOLDIER members, Mei has access to at least Lightning, Ice, Sleep, and Silence materia. Additionally, based on Sephiroth’s access, it can be assumed that Mei also has access to a variety of support and elemental materia, as well as revival and restoration. Generally, though, Mei will use (most often) Command and Independent materia, as well as being known to use the Wind and Fire elements.

#The One-Woman Firing Squad (Mei Fukaya)

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Sir

Ok, so this is me taking responsibility for starting a round of fiction on an NSFW prompt (smut off). Each participant got the same prompt “Mitsuhide is the Boss has fun with his employee” it could be interpreted anyway they wanted as long as Mitsuhide was the guy in charge. 

@colivara @xathia-89 @jennacat84 @notsafefortum-blr @tarralin sorry if I missed tagging someone in this. 

Warnings: Seriously it’s NSFW and set in the workplace. Read responsibly. Adult situation 18+ stuff. 

Masterlist

---

Sir

The clatter of desktop paraphernalia hitting to floor punctuated the hungry, needy sounds filling the quiet office space. How had it come to this? He was usually so in control of his own self but right now in this instant, he was lost in a wave of immorality.

---

2 weeks ago…

Mitsuhide had not enjoyed that summoning to HR as much as he thought he would. He couldn’t tease and relish in the reactions of Hideyoshi who had called in the CEO. Nobunaga had been calling the shots from the second he had arrived until the decision had been made to give Mitsuhide a new secretary.

It had become well known in the company that secretaries sent to the sales department did not survive long. They more often than not ran from there in tears or with a look of total muted terror. Hideyoshi had not given up in attempting to assign someone to the position but he was becoming a little more hesitant as he didn’t wish to deal with more paperwork and the string of “broken” female secretary staff.

Hideyoshi had thought to place males in the position for a time but the results were the same as before. He had no idea what Mitsuhide actually did to his staff as none of them really wished to divulge details but it was clear whatever it was meant this was a difficult job to find replacements for.  

---

That was how she had arrived at the department, Nobunaga’s chosen female. Mitsuhide always arrived early but she was already placed at her desk quietly typing away on her computer before he entered the office.

Casually ignoring her presence, he walked past her desk to open his own office door. A crisp fresh scent tickled his nose causing him to follow its direction and make eye contact with the unlucky female.

“Good Morning Sir. Would you prefer Tea or coffee?” She asked brightly with a polite poker face.

“Coffee.”

“I’ll prepare it directly.” She slipped away from her desk, the citrus scent trailing behind her in her wake as she went to the small kitchenette and began to prepare the beverage.  He chose to follow her, slight curiosity blooming in him as he watched her move around the small space as if she was part of the history of the place.

“You didn’t ask how I would like it.” He spoke to her from the doorway as he leaned against it watching her progress.

“Strong, not totally black. You prefer it with a dash of cream that is just enough to colour the drink but not enough to affect the main flavour of it. If you were entertaining clients the night before you ask for a little sugar and to turn it Irish. If not then you ask for nothing else. Am I right?” Her voice had an edge to it that he noted was similar to his when he was playing games with others. She was good.

“Hideyoshi briefed you in great detail I see.”

“Not just that. I noticed the small bottle of brandy you had stashed in your office. It was about half full and there was a receipt for it in the waste paper basket in your room. You gave orders not to have the normal cleaning staff clean your room which makes it part of my duties to perform and given the date on the receipt and the amount used I can easily connect that to client meetings from the appointment schedule. Mr Toyotomi only gave me direction on your usual drink of choice so I am assuming he has no clue that you add brandy to your drinks.” She was speaking as if everything she was saying in some way was totally obvious and of very little interest to her. Not everyone could make connections to minor points of interest as she had done. She was observant and smart that at least should be enough to hold his interest for a time.

“Haha. It would seem I have been given a rather interesting new toy.”

“Secretary Mr Akechi.” She was at his side before he knew it placing his coffee in his hands. “Now you have no morning meetings scheduled but there were some less standard emails that I could not send adequate replies too and the latest report of that new facility linked to the expansion project that you have a meeting for this afternoon is waiting for you on your desk.” She motioned towards his office with her manicured hands and he noted she was indeed a very well put together office worker. She almost looked exactly like the models used in those presentations Hideyoshi forced them all to attend on appropriate conduct and office attire in the workplace. Something that thankfully hadn’t happened recently, touch wood since Masamune had managed to get a steady partner.

“How efficient.”

“Thank you. I try my best. Now if there are no other tasks for me at the moment, I shall excuse myself and go to the stock room to get some more ink and paper for the printer as we appear to be out of it.” If she had seen the blend of awe and mild shock on his face as she left, she didn’t make a comment on it. Mitsuhide retreated to his office finding it clean and organised just as he preferred it.

“I wonder how long it has been since I had a challenge quite so interesting?”

---

Frustration. That was pretty much the main overriding sensation she was feeling right now and it was beginning to show. She had been warned before taking the position by several of the other department bosses that this was not going to be easy and after a few weeks, she had seen what they had all meant.

Extra work was piling up in the department for her to deal with as her boss decided yet again that he would vanish and be out of communication with the office. The increased work she had to deal with and the enquires she was taking from Mr Toyotomi were all serving to make her feel as if she was some sort of accomplice. One more day another call from HR. “I’m terribly sorry Mr Toyotomi Mr Akechi has just stepped out to visit a client at the minute can I take a message?”

She couldn’t deny it was a little thrilling to play mind games with a man who was as frustratingly intelligent as he was attractive. The small rush she got from landing a verbal blow to him that caused him to stall momentarily in his perverse attacks was exhilarating.

They had attended several meetings with clients that had taken them out of the office. Each meeting was in a private room in a bar with a relaxed atmosphere. The alcohol flowed with the conversation but the only people who seemed affected by the refreshments were the clients. Mr Akechi was somehow able to maintain the calm composed exterior he was known for regardless of how much had drunk at a meeting.

Whilst that was certainly something, she couldn’t help but admire about the man she had not taken kindly to his attempt to rattle her.  Sitting next to him the client happily chattering away on the other side of the table, his hand kept “accidentally” brushing against her thigh. He would drop his pen and she could feel his breath travel up the bare calve of her leg from her ankle as he retrieved it.

There was no doubt his little game was becoming more dangerous as the days passed and he realised his words weren’t having the reactions he was wanting. Mr Akechi was a very smart capable man who also had the ability to make suggestive remarks that could easily be explained away as misunderstandings that left the other person feeling as if they were the one who’s mind was living in a gutter.

Thankfully for all his little comments and moments where she had felt a little flustered, she had managed somehow to remain calm and composed enough to deliver a few frustrating blows of her own to him in return. Turn about is fair game after all and if he wanted to play “tease the secretary” then she was more than capable of playing that game as well. There was, after all, a reason Nobunaga had chosen her for this job.

A soft long sigh escaped her lips as she replaced the receiver of the phone. It was late, most of the building was probably empty by now but she still had a stack of papers that needed to be sorted and arranged.

“That was a big sigh.” The sudden appearance of a voice by her ear caused her to jolt in her seat. “I’m sorry did I make you jump?”

“You aren’t sorry at all!” She spun around glaring at her boss who was simply smiling obviously enjoying himself.

“Your words wound me, my dear.”

“Liar.” She spat back. It was unprofessional and something she would not normally do at all but this was hardly a normal situation. She had never had such a difficult superior to answer to in all of her secretarial career.

“My my. It would seem that during my absence you have learnt to speak up. How very amusing.” The smile on his face had turned into an infuriating smirk. She had been right he was enjoying this as part of his on-going little game.

“There is nothing amusing about it. I have just been pushed to the point where my professionalism has snapped. And who’s fault do you suppose that is?” At this point, she had no idea if she wished to smack that smirk off his face or attempt to cover it up with kisses.

---

He had caught glimpses of the woman under that impossibly perfect mask she donned for work. She was practically perfect, smart, efficient in her work. Naturally observant and able to pre-emptively judge with sometimes alarming accuracy his next move. It was frustrating but tantalising. He had found himself lost in his own thoughts more often than he cared to admit thanks to her.

The notion that if Hideyoshi had known the extent to which his little diverting fantasies had progressed he would have seen the man explode, whilst forcing him to attend one of those dreaded seminars on acceptable conduct in the workplace amused him. But here, right now, in front of him was the same composed female from before. Her mask had slipped, her patience of a saint had failed her and she was glorious.

“Quite right my dear. I must apologise.” He leaned close enough to trail his fingertips up the exposed length of her arm. He could feel her shudder at his touch drawing him in closer. “Now however should I take responsibility for sure heinous acts?”

He was more than aware that his voice had taken on a deeper tone, and that his eyes were almost certainly reflecting the same level of darkening lust that he saw in hers. This was where he failed. This was where his intent to tease had merged with all those lewd little daydreams and his mask finally crumbled.

It was, in fact, her that made the first move. Grabbing his jacket lapel in her small fist and dragging him to her. Their lips connected in a hard, passionate kiss that could have started a fire with its intensity. A low growl escaped his throat mixing with one of hers as they finally parted.

Flashes of realisation flickered across her face and before she could collect her rational long enough to reject what was happening, he had dragged her towards him trapping her with one hand around her waist and a firm grip in the hair behind her head. He nipped at her lower lip gaining enough space to push his tongue into her mouth. Tracing the ridges of her palate with the very tip of his tongue she released a rather undignified moan that only spurred him on to push her further.

A desire grew inside him to see this woman become so completely undone. To see her fall so entirely apart at his touch that she failed to function.

---

Momentary shock ran through her mind as she realised what she had done. She had lost her composure and actually kissed her boss. She was used to his teasing taunts and suggestive little gestures so why had she given into to it all now? She wasn’t allowed to process anything further than that as he claimed her mouth with his. There was a hunger in that kiss that was amplified by the tugging she felt on her hair as he deepened the kiss and ran his tongue around her own.

Conscious enough to remember their surroundings she placed her hand on his broad chest and gave it a firm shove. Reluctantly he pulled back. His eyes that were once clear as yellow crystal were melting pools of liquid gold.

“We can’t do this.” Her already swollen lips felt like they were pulsating after his kiss.

“If you really wish not to then…” He pulled back giving her a little space as his eyes wavered.

“No Sir. I mean we can’t do this here.” She quickly grabbed the cuff of his sleeve anxious to alleviate the obvious misunderstanding.

If you had asked her this morning, or at any other point prior to right now if she would do this kind of thing her answer would have been a resounding no. Right now, however, in the heat of the moment. Her pulse was rising, her scent was mingling with his. All of that with the amorous look in his eyes that were screaming pure hunger meant she just knew she couldn’t turn back.

“And to think I once had you pegged for a good girl?” He chuckled as he removed his jacket draping it over the back of her desk chair.

“Even the Devil was an Angel once.” She flashed him a playful smile happy to see him make good on all those little teases he had subjected her too so far.

Scooping her up in his arms he quickly made his way into his own office. He didn’t so much as put her on the floor before he had her back pressed against the now closed door. Her hand running through his white hair as he trailed kisses along her jaw and nape, balancing her with one arm in mid-air as he fumbled with the lock with the other.

---

He had thought she was rejecting him. He was used to that but he had forgotten that this was the woman who had successfully managed to go toe to toe with him over the past few weeks, not only meeting his pace but matched it perfectly. Just knowing that they were so compatible in that regard was enough to get his blood racing wondering how compatible they were going to be in other areas.

His senses were flooded with her scent and voice. He was own thoughts were becoming blurred as he explored her creamy flesh with his mouth. His teeth grazing over the lobe of her ear making her twitch in his hold. He bought his hand to rest on the buttons of her blouse popping them free one by one. His fingertips brushing against her as he moved.

Her legs suddenly gripped him tighter dragging his hips closer to her and she freed her head from his grasp enough to whisper in his ear.

“You terrible tease.”

“Terrible as I may be my dear.” He pulled back to look at the now slightly panting female in his arms. “I have no intention at stopping at just teasing tonight.”

The helpful support of the door gone from her back had her adjusting her grip around his body in a hurry. Taking several larger than normal strides to his desk he placed her on it and unceremoniously swept most of it clear with his arm as he pushed her gently backwards. She gasped as her back touched the cold surface and realised he had already unclasped her bra. He traced the soft mounds of her under the delicate lace.

“To think you were wearing something so salacious to work.” The accusatory tone of his voice did little to mask the arousal he felt when he saw such a sight. He had imagined her in many different styles of lingerie over the past few weeks but actually seeing it, how it hugged her curves and coloured her skin that was something reality made better.

“I can’t believe you only just noticed.”

“Is that an invitation?” He chuckled at her taunt as he pulled his neck free of his tie and hurriedly undid the shirt buttons with one hand continuing to play with her lace covered breasts with the other.

“We are in this position and that is what you decide to ask? I thought you weren’t teasing me tonight?”

He chuckled as he watched her back arch to his touch. Pinching one peaked nipple before drawing a line up her exposed throat with his tongue to her ear.

“As you wish my dear. Just don’t expect me to be gentle.”

He slipped his hand under the hemline of her skirt pushing it higher until it revealed her exposed thigh above her stocking tops. If he had a bit more control, he would have stopped to appreciate the view before him but he was being led by a more basic driving force. Lust and desire were consuming him from the inside out setting his body and its usually cool temperature into a blazing inferno.

---

His chilled hands felt sensational against her increasingly flushed skin. Her heart was pounding so fast it was becoming an effort just reminding herself to breathe. To think she would be here right now doing this…

Mitsuhide yanked her blouse free from her body and tossed it to the ground with his own shirt. He always looked slender but there was no way to have guessed he would be so toned and muscular. The defined lines on his torso clearly mapped out the sections of his abdomen that put marble sculptures to shame. The strength he had was also tender as he worked his magic on her.

Every time he touched her a small sigh or moan escaped her. In an effort, to try to stop herself from feeling like she might be carried away, she placed her hands on his shoulders. He glanced up at her contact and she stole a kiss from him. His lips twitched into a smile as he pulled her tighter to him, she could feel his heart beating like a drum against his chest echoing her own heart.

Laboured breathing, panting and moans of pleasure were filling the office space as fingers glided over her sides leaving smouldering heat lingering after his touch moved to another location. His mouth claiming hers in a frenzy that left her light-headed. That tongue of his that so often spun those teasing and cutting remarks was playing its own game as it crept lower along the expanse of her body towards the apex of her thighs.

---

She whimpered as he removed himself from her. A feral grin spread over his face as he looked down at the beautifully dishevelled woman spread out on his desk like a feast at a banquet. God, how often had he wondered what she would look like? If his own wandering imaginings were close to reality? They weren’t, the reality was a lot more alluring.

He could feel the beads of sweat forming on his back as it ran in small trickling rivers down his flesh. His hand was already reaching for his belt and with a swift motion, he had released the clasp removing it from his trousers with a swooshing crack. The soft leather sat happily in the palm of his hand as he briefly contemplated his next move. Looping it over her wrists binding them both together above her head, faster than she could react to pull away. Her face was the perfect picture of shocked amusement.

“Forgive me my dear but I really won’t be allowing you to leave just yet.”

“As if I would. I had no idea you were into this kind of thing.”

“Oh? Everyone has a few kinks, my dear. Keep playing games with me, I’m sure we can discover some of yours.”

He placed his hands on her hips dragging them higher pushing the thin fabric covering her to one side and entered her in one swift stroke. The heat of her wrapped around him. The way it undulated and stretched to accommodate him had his mouth going dry. She cried out and arched her back which caused her to clench her muscles and grip him harder then he was expecting. It was like she had been perfectly designed to be his undoing.

---

With each rocking motion he made she could feel him edging deeper inside her core. An uncontrollable fire was ablaze under her skin and she could feel its prickling heat causing the skin all over her body to become slick with sweat. He was like a machine of precision reading ever movement and reaction of her body no matter how slight with accuracy she had never witnessed before.

They were passionately entwined on the desk moving fiercely in sync with each other pushing, nudging themselves to the edge of blissful oblivion. It was a display of almost total desperation but there were still shockingly elements of tenderness in their touches. Items on the desktop not previously cast aside now tumbled to the ground as the tremors of their actions caused the desk to shift in position.

This was beyond anything she could have dreamt up in her most dizzying daydreams. She knew she had been attracted to the man, and she knew she had had fun with their little game but never had she imagined they would be this compatible. Everything their bodies did felt like an act of instinct. Every slight shift targeting their partner's main points of pleasure.

Small stinging sensations crept into the back of her mind as she closed her eyes knowing he was putting his mark on her and not caring in the slightest. When the first wave hit her, it was like she had been electrocuted, the second had her almost believing she was witnessing a supernova from up close. The third time was when he joined her, his movements becoming less fluid. His hips rutting against her as he pushed himself through their combined climax.

---

[audreysjensens-blog]

central pines [elodie davis x reader] {part one}

heyyy lovelies! i just watched trinkets (please please pretty pleeeease go watch it it’s beyond good) and am in love w elodie’s character. i hope you guys like this one!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

fic playlist: 

bon iver - hey, ma

dead girl in the pool. - girl in red

banana clip - miguel

let it happen - tame impala (song parts 6:15 to 6:38)

overlap - catfish and the bottlemen

this baby don’t cry - k.flay

alligator - of monsters and men

It had been two and a half months since you’d arrived at Central Pines.

The food was okay, and the air conditioning was subpar. Since you hadn’t been too keen on going there in the first place, and your dad’s incessant emails weren’t going to end until you left, your newfound safe haven wasn’t exactly going to be something you cared too much about.

It was nestled in the outskirts of Portland, surrounding by hulking pine trees and dense forest, hiking trails close to overpowering the tiny rehabilitation camp.

Rehab, right, you reminded yourself. I’m in rehab.

The people were the only reason why you hadn’t left yet. Well, that, and your “family issues”, which is what the counselors had so fondly filed you under in their massive stack of patients.

Everyone seemed to be remotely friendly, and the people that you’d met had honestly made a decent impression on you. You’d leave if you were willing to jeopardize it, but going home wasn’t an option. Leaving meant getting caught, and getting caught meant that you’d have to go home. Plus, police, which was something you weren’t too happy to think about again.

You got up and out of bed, shaking out your messy Y/H/C curls and slipping your feet into your sandals. After your bed had been made (a small progression of what your counselors thought was a “good stride”), you took sleepy steps over to the closet and got changed for the day, finishing off your look with an embroidered jean jacket and a pair of loose slacks. You’d seen Booksmart a few weeks ago, and despite the fact that you loved the characters for who they were, you really goddamn wanted Amy’s jacket.

You looked to the other side of the room, barren with nothing to reveal any inpatients. Probably because you didn’t have a roommate. When you’d first gotten there, a girl named Safi was moving out, so there was no overlap between the two of you. You’d taken over your side, she’d left hers, and while your side was filled with posters of bands, movies, and corkboards with your friends’ photos, the other side contained peeling wallpaper and a sad-looking twin bed.

You checked your phone and saw that it was almost nine, which meant that you had to check in with Counselor Adams (or Tracey, depending on who you’d ask) before you could get any sort of breakfast. It was fine, because you’d rather die than go without your beloved coffee that came from Adams’s office, but you were kind of hungry. Regardless, you started making your way down the long dormitory hallways, seeing your peripheral friends getting ready for the day ahead and leaving their dorm doors open.

Adams’s office wasn’t the sort of place that made you feel like you were in an actual rehab center, but more like a therapist’s office, which you actually had grown to like. There were little photos of her family everywhere, along with comfy chairs, glowing twinkly lights, and tiny ceramic animals adorning the chair that sat opposite your couch.  Well, not your couch, but you didn’t really have anything else in this facility besides your belongings, and damn it if that old, overstuffed linen didn’t feel somewhat like home.

“Ahh, Little Miss Caffeine,” Tracey groaned, flopping down in her Frankenstein’d athletic ball/old couch chair. “My espresso hasn’t hit yet, but we still have a couple minutes. Keurig’s up and running.”

“Thank God,” you sighed in relief, shutting the door behind the two of you and going to tap what you wanted into the machine. “You still have that almond milk creamer?”

“How could I not?” Tracey chuckled, taking another sip from her mug. “I use so much of the Folgers original creamer that I’m on the toilet for days with diarrhea. You suggesting an alternative was quite literally the only thing saving me from a life of bathroom hell.”

You giggled then, letting your hot mug sit for a second before splashing in the Splenda and the creamer. “Oh, so we’re blaming the milk for it now, huh?”

“I refuse to believe it’s the caffeine,” Tracey said strongly, wild hand movements indicating her opinion. “If it is, I might go crazy trying new methods of waking up so early.”

You looked up at the clock, seeing that it was exactly 9 on the dot, and sat down on the couch, ready to start your session.

Tracey leaned forward, pushing a piece of her curly brown hair back behind her ear and adjusting her blazer and her Central Pines t-shirt. “So. Let’s talk. Weekly update?”

“Sure!” you said, swatting your hand over your drink to make sure it wouldn’t destroy your tongue upon the first sip. “So, I’m doing okay. I do a lot of hiking, and I went into town last week on the free day. Which was nice.” “Ugh, free days are the absolute best,” Tracey said, crossing her legs over her chair. “I remember when I used to go on them. I was obsessed with the coffee place at the end of the street that gave you those little donut things. I mean, it’s gone now, but, fuck, they were so amazing! Oh, sorry, keep going.”

You laughed again at her habit of constantly interrupting you, and kept going. “Well, uh, it’s been different here. I mean, I know you guys pretty well, but friends-wise, I don’t really have too many here. I think a lot of people kind of just want to keep themselves going while they’re here. Not like, I want to speak for them or anything. I don’t know what’s going on with the others, and I really hope they’re all doing well, but I don’t really know how to you know, bridge that gap. You know?”

Tracey’s face took on a slightly sad and concerned expression, and she leaned back in her chair, nodding at your statement. “I understand. It’s hard enough trying to make sure you’re okay, while also trying to reach out to others. I’m sure that people will come around. Everyone has their personal demons, and when you’re here, we can’t always fully stop them from amplifying. But there’s always outlets. If anything, come here if you’re feeling lonely. You know that I have an armory of snacks and food and conversation, and I’m sure people not reaching out isn’t anything to do with you. I promise.”

You felt tears sparking up in your eyes then, and you looked up at the positive sticky notes on the ceiling, trying to enunciate them in your head to give the tears time to go away. Tracey gave you a moment before speaking up again, this time in a gentler tone of voice.

“Everything’s going to be fine. In fact, you have a new roommate coming at the end of the day today.”

You snapped your head back down to meet Tracey’s eyes, your fidgeting hands ceasing the incessant folding and unfolding and folding of the cuffs of your jacket. You couldn’t help but feel the rush of hope and excitement a new person brought, but quickly shut down the feeling. It was probably someone who didn’t want to be bothered with you, let alone be as furtive as you were to make friends. Squash the hope, you told yourself, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Really?” you said, trying to keep your voice level and break-free. “Are you allowed to… Tell me about them?”

“Sure! A little bit, at least,” Tracey said, reaching over and pulling a manila folder from beside her coffee table. She opened the folder, sliding out a packet or so before speaking.

“Okay, so her name’s Elodie. She’s coming here from a few towns over from you, and she’s going to be with us for a little while. Apparently her father and some other family’s helping her to move in. I haven’t met her yet, but John in admissions did, and he seemed to get a somewhat okay feeling from her. You know, people leaving their hometown and friends and all that, it’s not easy,” Tracey said, sliding the packet back into the folder and replacing it on the table. “At least, she has people here who get what it’s like.”

You poked your tongue in on the side of your cheek and took a deep breath, flattening out your pants with your palms. She was right.

“If you need someone to show her around other than John, whose niche TV show reference I’m sure she loves hearing, I’ll do it.”

The words left your mouth before you could take them back, and you felt almost like you were going to slap your palm against your head. What the fuck! I don’t wanna do that? Do I? What if she’s cute? Fuck! Stop! She’s probably not interested. It doesn’t matter. Ugh, this whole internal guilt thing blows-

“Really?” Tracey squealed, clasping her hands together in excitement. “I mean, I was hoping I could find someone that could show her around that wouldn’t say ‘Bazinga!’ every three seconds.”

A grin took over your face, and you stood up, turning to put your shoes back on and leave the carpeted room. It was officially 9:30, and the next person to be counseled was going to come in any second. “What time are they getting here?”

“Noon!” Tracey said, scarfing down her drink before her next patient. “Thank you so much again, kiddo. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, man!” you said, shooting finger guns at her before internally cringing and kicking yourself for the weird ass motion.

You said goodbye to Tracey and headed to the cafeteria, sitting down in one of the worn wooden chairs with a Clif bar in front of you.

Hello, Elodie, you thought to yourself. At least you’ll have a cool roommate.

#trinkets #trinkets netflix #netflix #elodie davis #elodie #elodie trinkets #brianna hildebrand #wlw #gxg #lgbt #pride #tabitha foster #moe truax #elodie davis fic

[wordstrings]

Of Maintenance Part 2: Physical Therapy

Written and submitted by @ask-flip-frost​; a sequel to Of Maintenance. (Publisher’s notes can be found at the end of the work.) Words: 4,300

Things were changing. Whether they were more spooky or less spooky with the developing knowledge was difficult to say, though. Several everyday phenomena which Sam and Dean had taken to be the result of Castiel’s telekinetic abilities had been debunked as something far more simple. In the week since his medicinal bath, the grace-touch Cas had granted to the Winchester’s eyes had not faded out. His wings were still visible to them. As such, they began to notice all manner of peculiar things.

For starters, Castiel was not nearly as statuesque as they’d always perceived him to be. Even if the rest of his body seemed to be standing perfectly still, his wings gave away that he was, in fact, constantly fidgeting. Often it was only a gentle twitch or sway, but other times it would be the sort of swift flap one might see from a bird debating its position on a branch as the angel settled onto the living area’s couch. The first time that happened had scared the hell out of Dean and he’d fallen onto the floor with a loud curse. Out of courtesy, the brothers would give a wider berth now to accommodate the limbs, though the wings would always shift themselves to or fro as needed regardless as they always had ‘behind the scenes’.

“I am beginning to understand why Humans are uncomfortable with long stares.” Castiel commented as he picked a lore book from a high shelf in a pincer motion with the alula of either wing.

Dean started in place. He hadn’t realized that he’d been staring again. He grunted quietly and went back to fake-reading for a case. Well, ‘case’ in the sense that it wasn’t really their sort of thing, but they were bored out of their minds. Idle hands being tools of the devil, he could definitely understand how so many bad decisions came in moments where a person was left with nothing to drown out melancholy thoughts. Might as well research old serial killers and have debates on whether or not they were supernaturally inclined.

“I always thought you did that with your brain, I dunno. Some floaty angel shit.” Dean shrugged, dropping both the pretense and his book “Still getting used to it.”

“I use my brain to move my wings.” Castiel rolled his eyes, thumbing through his volume. “I could lift something by altering the molecular structure of the air around it, but it seems like wasted effort.”

With Cas’ attention divided by reading, the elder Winchester felt as if he could chance another appraising look at the wings. This time, he was moreso checking on their healing progress. Any time he’d gotten close enough to attempt to give them a once-over, they’d folded up protectively against the angel’s back. The skin certainly seemed healthier. Feathers were coming in nicely. A marked rise in Castiel’s mood might have been linked to their recovery.

“Dean.” Cas admonished.

“What?”

Cas turned to face him straight on, irritated as fully as a woman who didn’t want someone ogling her legs. He closed the distance and waited until Dean met his eyes. It took more than a few seconds.

“Alright, I get it, I get it. I wouldn’t have to be so damn sneaky about it if you’d let us actually check them. We said we wanted to help, and you promised you’d let us.” Dean fussed. “It’s been a week, and all you’re doing is just… misting them like house plants with that oil stuff. I wanted to make sure they’re getting better. Sue me.”

“…Oh,”

“Whaddaya mean oh?”

All this time, Castiel had felt that he was being viewed as somewhat of a side-show. The extra space given, the hidden peeks, and the badgering about keeping up on moisturizing the damaged skin had been giving him mixed signals on whether or not he was being treated as… well, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t like it. He dropped his eyes, embarrassed.

“I misunderstood the reason for your leering.” Cas admitted quietly.

“Leering? Who’s leering?” Dean demanded, slapping the table to get full attention when Cas glanced away. “No, you look at me. If you think for a minute that we’re just gawking for the sake of seeing something weird, then you really need to get your head out of your ass, Cas. We stare because we care.”

That didn’t sound creepy. Ah, shit, he’d rhymed as well.

Castiel gave a begrudged nod. While he didn’t particularly care for being scolded like a child, he would be remiss to ignore the small flutter of importance that had bloomed in his chest from it. Something he’d perceived to be bordering on hateful was actually just the Winchesters’ way of looking after him without being obvious about it.

Feeling that his point had been made, Dean pushed up from the table and pointed an accusing finger as he backed out of the library.

“Alright. I’m going to pick Sammy up and grab some grub. When I get back, you’re getting a full check-up. No buts.”

If Castiel had been properly miffed, it would have been as easy as leaving before Dean returned to avoid further possibility of ridicule. But he stayed. Heaven help him, he stayed.

–

When the door to the bunker swung open by way of an aggressive hip, Castiel looked up briefly from his book and gave both Winchesters an expression of acknowledgement. Sam had been out all day, but where he had no idea. Both Sam and Dean had their arms full of takeout and grocery bags, though it seemed unlikely that the younger brother had been shopping for the last seven hours.

Behind Cas, there was some sort of structured movement going on. It reminded Sam of some upper body calisthenics demonstrated in a documentary about Victorian housewives he’d watched in college; the kind of exercise that only worked a set group of muscles, as was appropriate for ladies at the time. Not that he’d say that out loud. It looked a bit silly, though.

“The hell are you doing?” Dean asked bluntly.

“Stretching.” Cas didn’t look up a second time.

“Are you sore?” Sam prompted.

“No more than usual.” the angel replied with a sigh.

“How usual is usual?” Sam pressed on.

Castiel closed his book and deposited it on a table.

“Your legs are long.” Cas stated, waiting for Sam to agree to this observation before continuing. “If you are in a car for a long period of time, they become cramped, correct? Imagine if you were over one thousand feet tall, and compressed to a vessel that does not even clear six feet. Sometimes it helps to stretch, if only a little.”

It was easy to forget how big Castiel was supposed to be in a natural state when he was forever looking up at them. They understood how dangerous it would be for the angel to leave the vessel empty for any amount of time, so taking a break somewhere to fully unleash himself was unlikely to work out well.

“Okay, well-“ Sam yanked Dean’s shirt to prevent him waltzing away from putting groceries up. “We’ve been thinking about that a little, actually. Dean’s been calling physical therapy clinics in the area to get advice on what we can do to make things better for you.”

“Sneaking.” Dean interjected.

“-And I went to the vet clinic to volunteer with a bird rehabilitation group today. So I think we’ll have a better idea on how to handle helping you along.” Sam continued. “Got a few things we can try, but we’ll see how it goes and kind of play it by ear.”

At a loss for words, Castiel blinked and looked from one brother to the other. His don’t bother worrying about me, I am not worth it train of thought was solidly arguing with his I am deeply humbled and thankful to be cared about train of thought.

“The therapists all told us to check range of motion and try to balance resistance exercises and stretches with massages to release tension in the muscles.” Dean explained, slapping Cas on the shoulder. “Who’s a lucky duck?”

Cas pulled a grumpled expression as Dean turned back to stack cans of sloppy joe sauce in the cabinet.

“I am not a duck.” he huffed.

“Ya might as well be. That’s all Sammy’s been practicing on all day.” Dean laughed. “You’ll be the first on his client list not to peck at him. Or maybe you will, I dunno. You were pretty twitchy last time we had hands on you, so~”

Eyes to the ceiling, Castiel asked his Father for whatever strength he needed not to stuff Dean into a garbage can. He was thankful that the teasing was not further pursued while the remaining groceries were sorted. The time was spent going over what each brother had learned in their separate endeavors. He learned that Sam had been followed by an entire flock of some forty-odd ducks when it was time for him to leave, and that Dean had been given love letters by three old women and one old man after a day of working in senior physical therapy earlier in the week. As a point of pride, he’d kept all of them like trophies.

“Here, these are for you.” Sam tugged a pack of jersey knit pajama pants out of the last bag and passed them over to Cas. “So you don’t have to borrow any. Go ahead and change. There’s a shirt, too, but we need it off for now so we can see what we’re doing.”

Castiel ran his hand over the plastic with a quiet thank you. It crinkled softly in his fingers. Technically speaking, he didn’t own a single article of clothing besides what was already on his person. Any that he’d worn during his period as a human had been discarded as a means to bury the memory of his many struggles. Those clothes had all been second-hand anyway, though. These were new, expressly for him. A touching gesture to say the least.

This time, he didn’t feel nearly as self-conscious changing out of his normal attire. For a long moment, he fiddled with the drawstrings of his trousers to ensure that they were perfectly fit before tying a messy knot. Something which looked only sort of like a bow, but it was good enough. Learning to tie his shoes during his humanity stint had been quite a journey, but a small child who’d wandered off from her mother in the mall had been kind enough to show him as best she could manage. The things you needed to know as an ‘adult’ were hardly ever clear until you were in the moment, he’d come to find.

When Cas returned, he saw that a table in the library had been fixed up with lots of folded blankets to create a padded surface. Not strictly necessary, but it was nice to see all the same. A groaning sigh dramatic enough to rival a Kansas twister whooshed from his lungs in pure disapproval as Dean sauntered in wearing a lab coat, carrying a clip board.

“What?” Dean scoffed. “Too much?”

“YEAH.” came the unison reply.

“Fine. Buncha killjoys.” Dean muttered, shrugging out of the coat and tossing it in a rumpled pile on a chair. “Up on the table, big guy. Stretch out the wings as far as they’ll go side to side. Don’t let them droop if you can help it. We need to see if any of your muscles have atrophied.”

One foot pressed to a chair, Castiel pushed up on the table and settled into a comfortable sitting position, legs dangled somewhat stiffly over the side. A few small pops worked in the joints as he slowly reached his wings out in a wide t-shape. He wasn’t all together sure if that was a problem in the vessel’s shoulders or in his actual wings. Later he would run a checklist of all of the organic components which didn’t strictly belong to him. Well. They did now, he supposed.

“Try making circles, then go up and down.” Sam frowned at the noise, flipping through a little field guide he’d been given that day. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Cas shook his head, complying with the request easily. “It’s a relief. Everything has felt a little-“

“Flabby?” Dean supplied brightly. “Since you haven’t been able to go out for a sky spin in forever?”

If looks could kill.

“…tight. I have been exercising them, but the stiffness remains.” Cas grumbled. “My wing muscles are not flabby.”

“Touched a nerve on that one.” Dean huffed under his breath, eyebrows jumped up.

Quick to diffuse, Sam cleared his throat.

“You need recovery days to let muscles rest. Even if you’ve never needed them before, you’ve also never really been in a vessel for this long, right? Celestial energy verses physically shrunk down has got to have differences in how your wings react to things, especially after trauma. You said it feels cramped and tight, so let’s work from there. I’ll apply pressure. Try to keep from lowering your wings.” Sam advised, taking up a position behind the brooding angel.

Slowly he pushed down, little by little adding more force. The wings didn’t move an inch. They were warm and solid. A far cry less ashy-looking than the last time he’d touched them as well. Resistance didn’t seem to be a problem. There was no tremble of fatigue, but the muscles were heavily bunched.

“Not flabby.” Sam confirmed, noting with amusement how Cas’ feathers puffed a little in pride.

“See?” Cas sniffed in a superior tone.

“Got it.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“It was easy.” Cas added.

“I got it.” Dean repeated.

“Like they were baby hands.”

“Got it, Cas. Not flabby.”

Sam looked down at his giant paws and mouthed baby hands before reaching into a small box on the table. He began carefully laying out a collection of wires and pads. When he caught Castiel looking curiously over his shoulder, he held up the box to show a picture. The edges of the cardboard were slightly dog-eared from age, but the contents had been kept in pristine condition.

“TENS unit,” Sam explained. “I do long distance runs, and sometimes when my muscles get overworked, this helps kill off the pain and kind of forces them to relax after you use it. It stimulates your nerves with electricity pulses.”

When he was met with a wary expression, Sam rolled up his own sleeve and stuck two of the leads to his forearm. He fiddled with the settings and clicked the machine to life. Small twitches in his muscles were apparent.

“See? It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt. It’s weird, but DeanDeanDeanDON’T- AH!”

Unable to help himself, Dean plucked up the unit and cranked the dial WAY up, chuckling deeply as Sam’s arm convulsed into weird positons.

“This thing is WILD, Cas. We used to play a drinking game with these where you try to balance a ping pong ball on a spoon while it’s buzzing you, and if you dropped it, you had to take a shot.” Dean smirked, shutting the machine off, to Sam’s relief. “So just so you’re prepared, if it jerks you around a little, it’s fine. Doesn’t hurt, there are just places it isn’t safe to go, like around your heart. If Sammy can take it, you can take it. If it gets too sore, let us know and we’ll shut it down. Sound good?”

Cas nodded, actually a little relieved at the show of absurdity. It made him feel less like a specimen. There were no further protests as Sam began attaching leads to the meatiest sections of his wings and one on each shoulder blade at the joint. Anywhere where the knots were especially tight. The stickiness of the pads felt strange, but not particularly uncomfortable.

“You good?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” the angel replied, bracing his hands on the edge of the table.

“I figure we’ll let this run for a little while, then we’ll massage out the rest of those tense spots manually. You can go for a soak after. It’ll be a good day.” Dean promised.

“I’ll go get some of the leftover oil.” Sam offered. “Unless you already got some lotion or something for today?”

Dean thought to the small bottle of Jergens in his room… in a box… with his questionable reading material. The only lotion he owned.

“Nope,” the older Winchester lied.

“Right. Uh. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

The last thing Dean wanted was to endure something overly floral for this very manly process, so he turned to follow at his brother’s heels to micromanage the scent choices.

“Dean-“ Castiel interrupted his departure. “I’m sorry.”

“…For what?” Dean squinted.

“Earlier today. I thought… I thought you were being condescending. I’m sorry for being upset.”

Dean’s face went a little slack with guilt. Cas shouldn’t have to apologize for feeling upset. He spent so much of his time self-loathing already. All members of Team Free Will had a certain lack of communication skills when it came to sensitive topics, and Dean wasn’t exactly the most emotionally mature person when his pride was stinging.

“Yeah, well. Forget it, okay? I wasn’t exactly being up front about stuff.” Dean shrugged, looking for immediate escape from a dissection of character. “Be right back. Stay put.”

Now, the wisest course of action would have been for Castiel to wait patiently for the brothers to return, but frankly, he wanted to know what he was in for so that he would be able to adjust his reactions accordingly. If he could anticipate the jolts, then perhaps he could work against them to avoid looking quite as ridiculous as Sam had. Blue eyes kept sliding from the TENS unit to the door and back again. The oils were kept in the recovery room with all of the tubs, so he’d have at least two or three minutes to himself. Sam and Dean were strollers if there wasn’t a need for hurry. Ever so slowly, he reached out and closed a hand over the little machine.

–

“What’s wrong with lavender?” Sam groaned.

“It stinks, Sam. Use the sandalwood.”

“THAT stinks!”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

After much grumbling, they finally decided on eucalyptus, if only because Cas had mentioned that he’d liked the scent previously. This was about him after all. Before starting back to the library, they begrudgingly claimed a truce to avoid making the angel any more uncomfortable with sibling bickering. That was when both brothers were startled by flickering lights.

“Cas.” Dean stated, breaking into a run.

The door banged open.

Down on the floor, curled into a twitching ball against the table, was Castiel… doing something they’d only witnessed once before. The poor fellow was laughing, deep and rich and panicked. There was something else mixed with the sound; something almost musical and very, very strange. It made the humans go slightly cross-eyed for a second. They rubbed their faces hard to correct this. At least their ears weren’t screaming in pain.

“OFF!” Cas choked out.

Electricity was buzzing straight through his muscles down into his very grace. It wasn’t only that the unit gave off a tingling pulse over various sensitive points in his wings and shoulders. That would have been bad enough, especially the patches jolting into his wing pits. No, this was something altogether unbearable. Castiel hadn’t even been aware that his very essence of being was capable of falling subject to these sorts of sensations, but save him it tickled and tickled and tickled relentlessly. The entire world was blurred at the edges and all he knew was a crazed swirling of mirth and chaos exploding through his core. It was everywhere, inside and out.

“Hold on, hold on…” Dean tried, though it was doubtful that Cas could even hear him through the forced giggling and weird melodic notes.

Trying to get close enough to Castiel to snatch the machine up was like running a gauntlet. His wings were suffering from a combination of tickle shimmies and electric pulse muscle spasms. Any time Sam or Dean ducked in to make a grab, they were pummeled by a wall of feathers. Dean could taste blood after a clock to his nose, but adrenaline and amusement kept him from noticing more than a vague sting.

“Cas… Cas we can’t… you’ve gotta…” Dean weaved and batted.

“Work with us, Cas!” Sam grunted, hanging onto one wing for dear life as it thrashed him up and down as if he weighed nothing.

“T-t-t!!!” Cas tried to form words through his laughter, arms clutched tight around his middle.

Desperation incarnate, he reached out lightning quick with the miniscule amount of grace able to bend to his will and yanked the boys in close with it. This had the unfortunate side effect of spreading the sensation as the essence touched down on them, leaving both Winchesters doubled up in helpless wheezing cackles against their angelic friend. What the hell was this non-physical tickly feeling???

“CAS D-!!! CAN’T HE-HELP IF?!” Dean snorted.

They were screwed. Caught in the loop of laughter. What a way to go out.

Until…

It seemed that the reapers would not be coming for them on that particular day. Whether from divine intervention or dumb luck, the device shut off. A collective gasp for air sounded through the room.

“Shit… that tickled.” Dean heaved. “What happened?”

“It would seem that my grace is… vulnerable to electric stimulation.” Castiel rolled onto his back and put a hand over his face in a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

Nobody moved. There was a strange afterglow of sheer contentment from the shared-grace-giggling experience, though nobody was quick to admit how good they felt at the moment.

“Timer.” Sam stated finally. “I have a default timer of five minutes on it. That’s why it shut off.”

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to turn the settings WAY down on that thing because I don’t think I can handle that again right now if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace.” Dean rolled up into a sit and started aligning the intensity controls.

Cas made an instinctive reach for the device, which Dean deftly avoided.

“Not our fault you turned it on when it was set high. We’re still doing this, but we’re doing it right. Lower pulse ought to be fine. Back up on the table.”

Wide eyed and nervous, Castiel resumed his original position. He was still just a little too drunk on the endorphin spike to pull an annoyed expression, but still swiftly gripped a wrist on each brother.

“Don’t leave this time.” he insisted.

Sam and Dean shared a look, then jumped up to sit on either side of him. When he gave a small nod to signal his mental steel-up, the TENS unit once again buzzed to life, this time at a far more tolerable frequency. Only just, but tolerable all the same. His grace gave out pulsing shivers, almost as if nails were running over sensitized skin.

Hands balled in the padding blankets and legs lightly squirming for purchase over the side of the table, Castiel tried his best to bear through the time. He dug his chin down into his collar bone as breathy giggles clawed their way to the surface. Nope. A grown man-angel shouldn’t be allowed to be this adorable.

“This is supposed to be relaxing. Are you relaxed?” Dean grinned, giving a little poke to one of the wiggling wings.

“I AM NO-HOT!”

Sam held back a snort to avoid embarrassing the angel, but threw Dean a can you believe this expression when Cas tipped to his side and pressed muffled laughter into his jacket sleeve. Both brothers held a supportive hand to the angel’s back.

“Cas, we’d better not catch you alone like this again in your free time. If we need you for a case and you’re just holed up under the table having a tickle party for one-”

“Be quiet, De-hean!” Cas interrupted him with a giggly shove from the closest wing. “I’ll make you… I’ll make you feel…”

It was hardly an intimidating threat at the moment. The teasing verbal jabs seemed to up the intensity of whatever was happening with the celestial energy, and Castiel’s eyes were shining bright with tears by the time the machine beeped to signal the end of its cycle.

“Finished.” Sam announced in a sympathetic tone.

“Already?” Cas asked, wiping away the evidence of his mirth crying.

“Already?” Dean repeated, amused.

“It seemed to go by much faster. Perhaps, time being relative and also being that the potency of the treatment was at a marked decrease, my tolerance was raised for the challenge. It was pleasant. The effect on my grace was thoroughly enjoyable.” Castiel acknowledged, squinting at the Winchesters’ surprised expressions. “Did I not elucidate this well enough?”

Carefully, he stretched out his wings, noting with satisfaction that they felt remarkably limber as compared to the prickly tightness from the beginning of the day. He gave a soft yelp when fingers began picking at the TENS pads to unstick them from his skin. A bit over-sensitive from prolonged tingles, it was a struggle to wrench his wings up to allow the leads to be peeled away from the joints at his shoulder blades. They snapped down repeatedly and he shook his head with a scrunched nose of valiant failed effort. It wasn’t until Dean reached out a tickly grab to Cas’ knee to redirect sensation that he buckled in and became uncoordinated enough for Sam to strip everything free.

When everything had been boxed back up, it was difficult to ignore that Castiel’s expression remained bright and pleased. He looked happy. With any luck, maybe in the future that would not feel like such a foreign thing to see.

———

Publisher’s Notes: I absolutely LOVED getting to toss around ideas with you, some of which ended up straight here! This is so precious, and the line “...if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace” is a particular treasure. Thank you so much for blessing us with this continuation! <3

#wingfic #submission #author ask.flip.frost #ticklish!Cas #Team Free Will #Supernatural #Castiel #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #angel mojo #tickling #written for me! #Of Maintenance #Of Maintenance: Physical Therapy #series: Of Maintenance #tickle fic

[fanesavin]

The High Inquisitor and the Master of Whisperers go tête-à-tête with little progress made on either’s behalf.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (x) | (x) Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (x) (x) | Part 7 | Part 8  (x) | Part 9 (x) | Part 10 | Part 11 (x) (x) | Part 12 (x) | Part 13 (x) (x) ]

@thatwhichbindsus​ 

Unlike the rookery, this meeting room had no windows. It was stale, and still decorated in the House Sharma colours in the tapestries and cloth on the table. The last time she'd been here, Avitej had been a lord, and they'd been planning the last days of the tour in golden firelight. Waiting for the opinion of Prelate Theodore, and smiling over slick comments she'd made. Now, it was cold. Ciara adjusted her gloves on her wrists, for need of something to do. They were new and had not yet worn comfortably - she had bought them to celebrate the coronation, and they weren't yet worn in the right places to be fully comfortable. The dress similarly, she had changed since the morning's banquet. Since meeting Lady Cassandra in the halls and finding the filth that lay beyond. Ciara had left the body with a piece of ripped cloth in her hands, and had hurried from the prison so quickly she worried the guards had heard the secret doors click. No matter now. She startled a little when the door opened, and stood to bow her head towards Lord Savin as he stepped inside. "You asked to meet, my lord?" 

For the duration of his investigations, Fane opted to work out of his private study rather than the council chambers if only to maintain the general impression that he was not nor had any designs on the throne. Power presently resided in his hands, but it was cumbersome and unwieldy; a burden more than a benefit in his opinion. He would not rise about his station nor allow himself to get too big for his boots, for down that road only lay destruction and corruption. Perhaps, if he were a younger man with more ambition he would have considered such a route, but such a man he was not.

The investigation was progressing, albeit slowly. Fane knew more now than he did before and there were pieces of a far larger puzzle beginning to fill in. A timeline of the crown, its whereabouts and several opportunities for it to have been tampered with. The most prominent being in the Kingdoms of Summerset and Kesley, taking it to the blacksmith it had been confirmed that the crown that was used in the coronation was not, in fact, the one that had been commissioned by the High Raj. Fane had been careful in his decision to visit the man in the city, taking a longer route with more stops than perhaps was necessary. But paranoia in these times was unsurprising and after their discussion Fane had come away with a purse far lighter than before for the man to keep such information to himself.

Unfortunately, his return to the castle had been greeted with less than welcome news. Another death, this time the Kesley Lord in the dungeons. Fane had gone their straight and sight that awaited him was a grim one indeed. But mistakes had been made. The guards on duty, who had been the ones to return and find the man when he was due to be given his meal meagerly admitted under interrogation to the Grand Lady and her strange companion’s presence and their claims to be acting on his behalf. For they had not been paid to maintain their silence.

Lies and deceit. The time was slipping away faster by the moment.

“Aye,” he said while shutting the door behind him, one hand moving to rest casually on the pommel of the short blade tucked into his belt the casual stance of a soldier. “Perhaps we’ll start with your own personal deceit, hm?”

He closed the door behind her to hide them from listening eyes and ears, and without pause her eyes slid down to the sword on his hip as he rested his hand on it. A soldier's stance perhaps, but in a lady's presence? It sent a certain message. "Certainly, my lord," Ciara replied with an easy, closed lip smile. "Tell me first, will I be leaving this meeting as green-gilled as our Lord Commander?" He had not spoken of what had happened to anyone, but his actions had spoken clearly for him. Her hands clasped behind her, standing tall and proud, she looked as comfortable as a cat, but did not feel it at all. She blinked, slowly and thoughtfully. "Is this about your men?" She asked, one eyebrow raised. Of her deceits, it was the safest to raise this first as he certainly knew of it, and to her it carried no harm. So late in the evening she had approached a few of his men, one by one, and offered them each something they desired. And each, in turn, had said no, even as the offers had stacked. At the end of the night, she'd thanked them for her time and bid them goodnight. In the morning, ripping a dead man's clothes while trying to remain perfectly silent, she wished she had succeeded.

“Hardly,” he doubted such antics would work on Lady Florent. Too smart by half. “Sometimes we have to make hard decisions to get honest answers.” Fane regretted the things he’d had to do of late, the were extra burdens that weighed heavy on him. Unfortunately, to get to the truth it sometimes meant crossing lines you might not otherwise have crossed. Still, it had got him information at least. There was also the fact that regardless of how much he might wish to charge straight in, there were certain privileges afforded to nobles that others might not have. Which made getting answers all the more difficult and frustrating. Like trying to swim upstream with your hands bound. The tides were against him on this, and Fane wasn’t daft enough not to acknowledge it.

“Aye, in part,” he answered moving further into the chamber and nodding to the chair indicating that she should take it. Equally, Fane moved to assume one opposite. “If you have questions of me or mine ask them to my face, not behind my back. I don’t appreciate my position being undermined by those around me.”

“Is that not how all things are justified?” Ciara returned smoothly. “I jest. I understand well how important taking unsavoury steps is in solving issues the for the greater good.” Ciara’s hands were blood stained because exactly that. Serving lord Sharma even before he’d known it.

She took her seat at directed, leaning forward on to learn as listen, but not improperly

so. He sat too, so he was not looming over her. Of course, there were many ways to establish power over someone, he did not need to look down on her to do so. “To undermine you was never my intent, as it had never been, inquisitor, just as I made no moves to undermine High Raj Sharma. But the truth is a fickle thing. As is trust. It is my job to be suspicious, and to notice things within the ranks of the working classes that others do not.”

“We have to tell ourselves some lie to live with our actions,” but as she admitted, she would know better than most how true that particular statement was, wouldn’t she? Fane leaned back in his seat propping his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers.

“Perhaps not, and I have little doubt you sail whichever tides suit you best, I may be many things but I am not foolish enough to trust you m’lady.” His tone was mild, posture otherwise relaxed “if my men had proven disloyal, how many more opportunities would that offer up? Perhaps many, perhaps none, but give an inch and people will take far much more from you. That, I cannot allow.” His features grew grim, “I wish to work with you, not against you and I cannot see what reason I may have given you to doubt my intentions. I ask you, do you really even care who killed the Raj?” The question hung in the air between them extending into the silence, “knowledge is power, and I think you know much more of it than you have shared with me thus far. My purpose is justice,” his head cocked fractionally, eyes narrowing as he posed his question, “I ask you Lady Florent, what is yours? ”

The more he spoke, the tenser she sat, her eyes narrowing into slits and hands dropping to her lap. Ciara clenched her jaw and sat more upright still, and let that silence extend until it was so long and thin it could have sliced them both in half. “You are not foolish enough to trust me but I am fool for seeing reason to distrust you?” She asked, and her voice was low and sharp as that silence had been.

“What was your purpose here, then, before the Raj died?” She asked, but it was rhetorical. They both knew the official, formal answer he could give her. “Mine is what it always has been since the Cloverry named him, since I helped lead the crown tour which secured his place as Raj, since not one week ago when I knelt for him. I do not recall kneeling for you, lest you forget yourself, Inquisitor.” All of it calm and quiet as ice and not once did she look away, and did not answer any other question. She would not lower herself to intimidation.

Where she sat more upright, growing tenser by the second Fane’s posture remained lax, observant and curious. It seemed in his opinion that he may have touched upon a nerve. “Now you spin words and put them in my mouth so that I might choke on cotton, I called you no fool, I asked what reason I have given for you to distrust me? By extension, what it is I might do to have you see the cause I serve is just?”

“My purpose was simple, to pledge my allegiance to the peace.” He sighed pressing his steepled fingers together, “and no doubt you wonder what reason I give you to trust me, I understand, and rightly so you have no reason to believe me… Words are wind, but if you need measure of my interest in bloodshed look at the recent wars.” They had been well documented after all, and his was not a House that had dealt in civil strife. “My interests are with keeping my people protected. War regardless how distant it might be, serves me no use. My lands are vast enough that I need not more and my region’s construction export wealth enough that I lust not after other treasures.” His were and always had been a simple people, or relatively simple needs. “The Driftwood princes pride themselves on their navy, you pride yourself on your cunning and ability to play the game of the capital, I pride myself on my integrity.”

Her words were frustrating but Fane chose not to let it seep into his posture, though his lips were cast in a frown. “I ask you not to kneel for me Lady Florent, I ask for your help” where his voice had grown a fraction tighter in his impatience with the circles they drew and danced about one another he exhaled, long and winded. He was tired, tired of pandering and wasting time on something that hardly mattered. Closing his eyes he pinched the bridge of his nose, weary with the word games and shifting sands. When he lifted his gaze to look at her his eyes were less harsh but no less determined in their belief and when he spoke it was with the conviction of a man that truly believed the truth of what he said. “I ask you to help me find the murderer of an innocent man, that you chose just as many others did. Yet you resist me in avenging his death. I do not wish nor do I ever wish to fight with you or anyone else and I do not wish to fight on this. He was a good man, perhaps the only one fit for the task set before him. You’re right, perhaps I never did owe him or any other allegiance but I made an oath to protect the innocent, and that is a duty I failed in this week. I will not fail in enacting justice on his behalf.” 

“These are pretty words, my lord.” Ciara said after a while. “I misspoke, I apologise.” She knew of his House’s reputation, and indeed of his own. But reputations could be curated, they gave as much a measure of a man as his bags of gold. Although it was sweet, she supposed, that he thought she took most pride in her cunning.

She stood, and paced on her side of the table, looking not to him but to the steep line of her hands. “Let us say, perhaps, that I name Prince Cardero as my suspect, and you name him to the court. Perhaps the other lords align with you, but the Forty Isles would send their fleets, and through his brother the Summerset forces would join.

“Or perhaps Queen Bellamy is the one, and in response to her execution or imprisonment everything which is terrible leaks out of that forest. The very trees would suffocate us.

“Or let us say, perhaps, that we decide the Prelate is the one who orchestrated this. He would know by the end of the hours and the people who throw us to the sharks themselves.”

Ciara paused, and looked him dead in the eye. “Or perhaps I suspect the lost Lady Parker, the one you are fond of, and you speak to her in confidence with concern. Perhaps you have an alliance with Lady Lacroy that I know not, and when I suggest her name you put that blade through my throat faster than I can gasp. ”

“Lady Cassandra, the young Lord Cardero, some unknown Knight, the priestess who impresses more with every moment that she speaks. There is no one in this castle who is not in some way entangled with another. No name you could accuse without starting a new war. No, perhaps lord Pettaline, but he has not the means.”

She tilted her head, and rested her hands on the back of the chair she had just been seated on. “So no, my Lord. You speak pretty words, and perhaps they are as true as they claim to be. But you cannot serve justice and peace. I cannot be compelled to trust you with so little time, and truth be told, in what you offer, I see only death.”

Fane was silent as she paced and spoke her piece. She was right, and he knew she was right. Pointing a finger and laying blame would do no good unless you have unanimous support. One hand fell to the arm rest while he pressed the other to his face. “And so we should let the person responsible for destroying that tenuous hope of peace walk free?” All for what? “And what if that person, who walks free by our own permission ends up being selected the next High Raj or murders them also? So on and so forth. What kind of peace is that?”

His posture sank at the position they were placed in, an impossible choice. Peace or yet more bloodshed?

The decision wasn’t his, and yet in a way it was.

He dragged his palm slowly over his jaw, his eyes growing unfocussed as he looked to the wall. As if its solid bricks might offer any sort of insight into the answer to their question. “Must the answer for death be death? A punishment must be given, but it does not have to be bloodshed or execution. There are other alternatives.” Fane pushed to his feet, leaning his knuckles on the table and looking over at her insistent. “Help me to find a way that will serve both… I do not wish to see an innocent person blamed for a crime they didn’t commit… If there is anyone capable of finding an answer to that question they are stood before me. Aye, perhaps you do not have faith in me, but I’m willing to take that chance and put my faith in you. But to find the answer we must determine who is responsible… I have some answers, and I have no doubt you do too…”

“Not free, no. They will not have the time to create so elaborate a trap without being caught for the next one, they will have to bide their time, lest they lose every advantage they have stood to gain by their subterfuge. We bide our time also. With patience. These House Games take place over lifetimes, not days.”

“It is peace for the people. To them it hardly matters who as long as they can live in relative safety. A Raj gives them stability.”

He stood, and she smiled knowingly, sympathetically. His clothes were well made but simple. “Exile? Forcing them to remain in their home? Stripping them of titles? All of it will result in war. Not with tensions and alliances like this.” She tilted her head, the scars on her face catching in the light. “When my husband was murdered, the only way to end the war with the family that killed him was to eradicate them. Woman, child, bastard. All extinct. No one wishes to see that repeated.”

She straightened, clasped her hands together. “I respect your obstinance, my Lord, but it does not change my mind. Is there anything else?”

“And yet you are willing to submit us to the risk of being ruled by a tyrant, no matter for how long, you might be able to live with such terms Lady Florent but I shall not.” Fane’s fingers curled on the table that he leaned on. No politeness masking how he felt presently. Disappointed but not disillusioned. If truth brings war, then so be it. Truth will out. No matter the means.

Her smile only served to sicken and enrage him more. A part of him wanted to turn the table on end, but what use would it do? To throw a fit of rage would only serve to weaken his position further than it already had. Tension rippled through his tall frame and he had to slowly expel it in the act of pushing himself back and rocking to his feet. “You can’t know they’ll end in war, you are many things m’lady but you are not a seer.”

A part of him wished to retort, but he opted instead to bite his tongue. He took measure of her and the situation at hand. Nothing he could say would change the way of things it would appear, “from you, it would appear not. But do not think I will forget this Lady Florent, and if we happen to live to see the monster of your own creation… Pray the gods have mercy.” He looked as though he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it. Grimacing he afforded her the degree of a small and rather forced dip of his head before giving her a pointed look and leaving the room feeling as though he’d much rather be eviscerated on the spot than spend a moment longer with her in his company.

Ciara nodded, absorbing his righteous anger entirely as he restrained himself masterfully. He rose, and she nodded at his next truth. She was no seer. This was true. Nor was he. Nor did she believe him entirely - she hadn’t spoken her full truth and expected him to have kept something back too.

The monster of her own creation. Ciara swallowed and raised her chin as he turned, and dipped her head too. She blinked and sagged as he left, cradling her face in her hands. Whose gods, she wanted to ask. Hers, the Trinity, or the Sea God, or the Cloverry? As she stared at the tapestry that dangled beside the door, there was only one who she wanted the mercy from.

Because in truth, when it came to finding Avitej’s killer, it was not justice she wanted, but revenge. Only her fealty to the dead Raj mattered more.

#got scene

[icedanceupstarts]

2019 4CC Recap

In which nothing went as expected and your exhausted mods got a jolt of energy. The tech panel giveth and the tech panel taketh away. 

Before we get into the dramas of the top teams, we'd like to give a couple shout outs to some of the teams that wound up in the bottom half. China's dance program is really picking up, with not only fan favorites Wang/Liu, but also their teammates Chen/Sun and Ning/Wang making huge strides over just this season. You can see the inexperience of both, but Chen/Sun scored extremely well, and Ning/Wang show a lot of potential as well, with her in particular giving good face.

We also want to tip our hats to Andrew Dodds and his ridiculous schedule, competing all four days of 4CC and setting all new personal bests in both singles and dance. Kerry/Dodds have progressed a lot in what is just their second season together, and we hope they continue to work hard in the future. You can see the newness in the transitions in and out of lifts, or how they don't yet have an automatic feel for where the other is on the ice, but you can see the potential. As ice dance lovers first and foremost, selfishly we sort of hope Andrew decides to focus on dance, but regardless he should feel very proud of what he accomplished here, and of course Chantelle should as well.

Komatsubara/Koleto are doing well for themselves as Japan's top dance team, with lovely chemistry and a strong sense of partnering. They'll want to improve on their tech to achieve new personal bests at their worlds debut at home but they’ve shown great progress this season. Their free dance in particular, taking us from sighing over Love Story’s warhorse status in skating to oh but a beautiful program!

In the battle of US #3 and Canadian #3, Hawayek/Baker came out on top, but it was close, and the Canadanes will have the opportunity for a rematch at worlds.

Fournier-Beaudry/Sorensen had a good international(and 4CC of course!) debut as Canadians, particularly in the rhythm dance where we thought they could have stood to place fifth by a hair. This program is such a good match for them and their skating, sleek and elegant and showing off their great chemistry. They have a fantastic lift entry to the twizzles and still end up so close together it would be frightening if they weren't so in control. They had some bobbles in their flamenco free dance, and honestly we think we preferred the original incarnation, but it was still a good performance. They have fantastic detail and maturity in their skating, great expression, and skirt action galore. She slipped on the otherwise excellent choreographic slide, and in general it wasn't perfect, but they should feel very good about their reception by the judges.

Reigning 4CC champions Hawayek/Baker had little hope of even medaling, much less defending their title, but they had two strong performances and personal best scores. They'll really want to strengthen their technical performance for worlds, particularly in the rhythm dance. They have great projection and emotion in their skating which contributes to their high PCS, but it's going to be a tight fight for the top ten at worlds and they can't afford to give up points if they want to continue to make their mark. Since moving to Gadbois they've noticeably improved their twizzles, and they have more power to their skating, which enhances the maturity they had already spent the last quad in the senior ranks cultivating. It's clear from the scoring here that the judges like them and their programs, and if they can hit their levels in the final competition of the season, they can go a long way.

Gilles/Poirier beat Weaver/Poje in the free dance for the second competition in a row, but the rhythm dance had them behind(also for the second competition in a row) even if they hadn't received that lift deduction in the free. They're getting closer though, and they should be especially happy with their 2nd place PCS in the FD. They had their best tango performance of the season here while maintaining their usual distinctive flair. Even when they're being fairly normal, everything they do feels unique. They have such beautiful shaping and interesting, complex transitions in their programs, and they really tell a story. Never more true than in their Vincent FD, drawing on all their strengths as a team and building on so many daring and innovative programs in their repertoire.

Weaver/Poje's rhythm dance might be slightly too soft for our personal tastes, but it's undeniable that it's perfect for them. They have a mature, romantic connection, and one of the best integrated patterns of the field. They might have even beaten Chock/Bates in that segment had it not been for a bobble on the twizzles. Their twizzles have long been a bit of an issue for them, easily their weakest element, and lag behind the rest of the field. Even so, they're difficult and well placed to the music in both programs. They'll want to earn a little more GOE in the elements of their emotional free dance, as Gilles/Poirier beat them in TES while having a lower base value. But this is one of their best free dances, drawing out every bit of emotion and ending on three strong choreo elements, so it will be interesting to see how things stack up next month at Worlds.

Chock/Bates continued their comeback trail with first a fantastic rhythm dance with both great tech(highest of the event!)  and performance. We really enjoy this tango on them, and they absolutely nail this style. With tons of expression and detailed choreography, they keep your attention all the way through their ending, eye catching rotational lift. We'll admit to some, ah, slight skepticism when it was announced in the fall that they would be skating an Elvis free dance, but they just keeping getting better with each performance. Their performance was engaging and confident, and this is just a really nice program. The choreography is full of great moments, including little details like Evan booping her nose, and who can forget those lifts? Even as remarkably well-trained as they are for missing ten months, there's still room to grow in the weeks before worlds. They could use a little more speed in the final minute, and to smooth out the transitions of their stunning choreographic lift. If they can tighten up those details while continuing to deliver compelling performances like the ones they had this weekend, they have every chance of earning their third world medal in Saitama.

Chock/Bates’ serpentine lift was initially mistakenly entered into the system as just a curve lift, causing your mods some mini heart attacks as their TES hovered at a dangerously low 63 before jumping up seven points. The release of that dramatic tension turned out to be foreshadowing as the exact opposite thing happened to their rivals Hubbell/Donohue. When watching live we vaguely noticed that their now infamous stationary lift needed a passport, but we were worn out after a long week of competition and assumed that it was fine. Turns out it was very much Not Fine! Even the lift aside, they seemed tight and had some bobbles, and their free dance in general is just not suited to them. Their quality of skating is as high as it's always been, but the program is not constructed in a way that best shows off their power, flow, or edges, and it may be a matter of personal taste, but Kissing You kind of drags on into an eternal saccharine dirge. We were genuinely surprised when we checked the timestamps and discovered that Kissing You really only lasts half the program, where we would have guessed closer to three quarters. It's kind of a sad, deflating balloon of a second half and just doesn't go anywhere. Their rhythm dance is better for them, but they had more struggles on the levels of their step sequences there than they did in the free dance.

We've seen some conspiracy theories regarding Hubbell/Donohue's calls here(a number of them involving Jonathan Guerreiro's mother for reasons that have not been adequately explained to us?) but not only were their calls fair, if anything they were kind. We've gone over that first lift, and the tech panel would have been within their rights to call it as a combination Stationary B + Rotational B lift, which would have murdered their score dead. And they received a rare level 4 on the midline step sequence for the first time this season, and while that was understandably overshadowed by the uh, rest of the protocol, that's a great achievement and one they should feel proud of. A bigger concern for us is their spin levels. They got a level 2 call at GPF, and have at competitions in the past, such as Nationals last season. It looks to us like they tend to rush their positions and are a little sloppy getting in and out of them, so they're falling just short of the needed rotations. Zach's camel position in particular looks a little iffy to us, and his lack of stability there could be what's costing them. Even if they had gotten their lift levels, that spin would have had them in second place, so it's not a mistake they can afford to make again at Worlds, where the scores will be tight through a good portion of the top ten. As unpleasant as this no doubt was for them, they have every opportunity to fix these errors, skate lights out at Worlds, and earn their second world medal. While our personal opinions of their programs are lukewarm at best, and we don't think are showing off their skills to the best effect, they still are fantastic skaters who will have a fire lit under them after this disappointing result.

#ice dance #recap #2019 4cc #season: 2018 2019

[taehyungiestummy]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears -- Chapter 13

Masterlist     Previous     Next

Warnings: Swearing, a good amount of fluff

Word Count: 6554

It’s crazy how fast time flies by when you are going to university, trying to plan a Halloween gala, keeping up with your boyfriend, and doing your best to find the person who murdered your parents. Two weeks have already gone by, and varying degrees of progress has been made in the four main categories in my life. “Can you believe it, Yoongi?” I kick my feet into the air as I lie on the couch in our late father’s office. “Tomorrow is Halloween, which means our first gala as the new leaders of Bangtan. I can’t help but wonder what dad would think of how far we’ve come in such a little time.”

“He would be proud of us,” Yoongi grins at me as he sits in a chair with a stack of letters on his lap. “He’d be so happy with how far we’ve come with little guidance. We’re the best people that could have taken over this business, and I think that’s becoming more and more clear with each passing day.” “I’m still working on categorizing those words for you, but I think we are getting closer to figuring out what really happened to our parents,” I let my legs fall back onto the couch. “Sometimes I have a second pair of eyes look at all we’ve found to see if they can figure out what the connection is. I also have been trying to make sentences and such with the words we’ve found. It’s a fun puzzle, in a strange kind of way.” “What’s gotten you so happy and giddy these past couple of weeks?” Yoongi tilts his head to curiously look at me. “It felt like for a while there you were never going to get out of your funk. Is it because you go to those book club meetings?” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep in a laugh. The times that I tell Yoongi that I am staying back on campus because of the book club are the times that Taehyung and I have been going out on dates to different coffee shops or old bookstores. I have been helping out with the book club as on outsider, though. If Yoongi were to ever call and ask if I was there, the people there would know to lie on my behalf. “Well,” I speak up after the want to laugh has passed. “I don’t have to deal with the Fakes anymore, so that has really taken a weight off of my shoulders. I don’t have to deal with their daily bullshit. I’ve been able to get back to training with Jimin thanks to my wound healing,” I raise my right arm up to check out the light scar on my forearm. “I’m hanging out with people that I actually care about, and who care about me. I may be without parents early in my life, but life is actually turning in a good direction.” “You’re so positive,” Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down at the letters on his lap. “I thought you might mention a new boy who’s taken your interest, but I guess you don’t need a significant other to be happy.” My arm drops onto my face to try to cover the blush that is invading. “How could I possibly have a boyfriend when you make it so clear that you’ll scare them away? If a boy even tried to flirt with me you’d have a heart attack, and then kill him once you make it out of the hospital. Besides, I have too much going on in my life to even think about starting a relationship now.” “I have never said that a boy can’t flirt with you,” he scoffs. “I’d just like to meet him, and get a background check from the hackers, and he can’t be from the mansion. Simple requirements.” “You’re doing it again,” I move my arm up to rest on my forehead. “There are plenty of boys in this house that would be just like meeting them at university. I’m a mafia boss, Yoongi. A godmother, in a sense. This is my life just like it is yours. I’m gonna need someone who has been in on the operation just as I have.” “I’m not going to fight with you, Bambi,” Yoongi sighs, shuffling around the letters he’s holding. “Dad and I always wanted you to get out of this profession, but it’s clear that you belong here just like everyone else. You want to be here more than any person I know.” “It’s about fucking time that people realize that women can do all the same things that men do,” I turn my head to look over at my brother. “That’s why I want to be here to be here so bad. There’s a stigma around women in gangs, and especially the mafia. I watch the movies, and I want to be the one that is different. Show to those in the mansion that I can be just as good as my brother counterpart, and show to the outside world that I can lead a big corporation just as good as you.” “You are doing that, Bambi,” Yoongi looks up to lock eyes with me. “People never looked down on you when you were always in the background of operations because you go to school fulltime. People always ask about you, and how you are doing. You are a key component in everything that Bangtan does. You will always be that because Bangtan would be nothing without their badass princess. You keep us all sane, in a way. You give a different point of view to problems, and go out and fight to keep people safe, and are just a lovely human being.” “Why do you act like that isn’t true, though?” I push myself into a sitting position; not once breaking eye contact with my brother. “Why do you act like I am weak?” “Because you’re my damn little sister,” he says like it is the most obvious answer. “When you were born, and I held you in my arms for the first time, I knew that my biggest goal in life would be to protect you. To make sure to keep you out of as much harms way as possible. I treat you different because you are closer to me than any person in this world. If you were gone, my whole life would crumble.” Without a chance to give any thought into my action, I vault off of the couch and rush over to fall onto my brother. He lets out a huff as a breath is forced out of him, but he wraps his arms around me regardless. “I am not going anywhere, Yoongi,” I speak up after I’ve had time to sort out my thoughts. “Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I am always going to be by your side. I have more than enough people keeping an eye on me to make sure I stay safe. Plus, I wouldn’t go down without a fight,” I giggle. “I’d kick some ass before anyone ever took me down.” Yoongi chuckles, “Of course. I know how skilled you’ve become as a fighter. It’s just now that mom and dad are both gone, I realize just how deadly this job can be. I love you so much, Bambi.” “I love you so much, too,” I wiggle around so that I can comfortably snuggle into my brother’s side. “It’s moments like this that I live for. Just being able to spill our guts to one another.” “I love holding you because it reminds me of the first time I saw you,” Yoongi kisses the top of my head. “You’ll always be the small baby that knew nothing of the world and smiled at me like you knew just who I was. That I was your big brother, and I would always be there to make you smile.” “I didn’t crush the letters too badly, did I?” I giggle as I glance down at the papers on his lap. “They didn’t even cross my mind until now. I just needed to be over here.” “They’re fine,” he tosses the pile of letters onto the floor. “I’ve been reading them for a while now, and I’m just not getting anywhere.” “Sometimes you just have to stop thinking about it for a while and then it will hit you like one of my kicks,” I giggle. “Seriously though, I think we both deserve a break. We should get Jin to make us some comfort food, as tomorrow is going to be stressful. I just know it will be.” “What comfort food do you suggest we have?” Yoongi squishes my sides. “I need something warm to eat.” “I’m sure if we just go to the kitchen and ask Jin to make us some warm comfort food, he’ll do a perfect job.” “That’s one of your favorite places in this whole mansion,” he rubs his hand up and down my back. “You love to chill in the kitchen and just talk the afternoon away with Seokjin.” “Well, he always listens and gives good advice,” I manage to shrug. “And Jin’s hot chocolate can always cheer me up. There’s many other places in the mansion that I love, though.” “You love being right by my side,” Yoongi helps me sit up so he can look me in the eyes. “How about we go get something to eat and then chill watching some show in your room?” “That sounds perfect,” I tenderly smile. “We’ll need a lot of energy for tomorrow. It’s going to be a crazy day.”

********

“It’s been years since I’ve dressed up for Halloween,” I smile as I pull the blue dress of the Mario space princess off the hanger. “My last costume was something basic, like just wearing a onesie out with some of my before-the-mafia friends.” “Too bad you couldn’t go too crazy with a costume, seeing as you have to meet potential business partners,” Sooyoung checks out her Tinkerbell outfit in the many mirrors of my closet. “I like Rosalina’s dress, though. Like, a lot. It’s elegant but shows off your body in just the right way.” Boram giggles, “You two are a crazy duo. There’s just something about the both of you that makes such a perfect friendship.” “You’re our friend too, Boo,” I smile at the young doctor dressed up as a kitten. “You are part of our crazy perfect trio. We are three girls that you don’t want to mess with,” I chuckle. “We love having you around to talk with us because then we can talk about even more boys,” Sooyoung slips her feet into the iconic Tinkerbell flats. “Speaking of boys, Boram, are you still crushing on Taemin?” She has a sly grin on her face as she asks the question. Boram’s face is overcome with a blush in mere seconds, and it seems like the girl is at a loss for words. “Pebble, that was just mean,” I shake my head. “Boram, take some deep breaths. You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” “If she doesn’t want to talk about her crush, then I will talk about mine,” Sooyoung takes a seat on a stool. “Jungkook is a puzzle that I can’t seem to figure out. One minute he seems to be all up for going out on a date, and then the next he’s shutting himself off. I guess that’s just what happens when you’ve been an assassin for so long.” “He’s a little rougher around the edges than most of those within the mansion,” I slip my robe off, quickly shimmering into the blue dress. “There’s nothing you can do other than keep doing what you’re doing. He’ll open up if you care enough about him.” “Has he opened up to you?” Sooyoung motions me over with her index finger. “Other than having to tell his story to join Bangtan, I mean.” I step up to my best friend, turning so she can zip up the back of my dress. “We’ve talked about different things here and there. I’ve been around these boys for many years of my life. They see me as a friend.” “Well, one of them sees you as more than a friend,” Boram can’t help the giggle that escapes her lips. I grin, walking over to a mirror to adjust the sleeves. “Ah, so Doc told you about my relationship with a certain hacker?” “We tell each other everything,” Boram crosses her arms over her chest. “I am as much involved over in the hospital wing as he is. If something is going to happen where you need a doctor, then you are going to need two. That’s just how it works. Minho trusts me enough to know that I won’t talk about your little group of vigilantes.” “We’re not vigilantes,” I turn to look at Boram. “We are just doing a little of extra work that my brother will thank me for in the long run.” “You’re doing it behind his back because you can’t tell him about your relationship with that hacker. Taehyung, right?” I take a deep breath, “Yoongi would never accept that I am dating the boy who watches over me. Not yet. Once I am able to show all the information that we have on my mother, and the Red Wolves, and just what the fuck is going on, I’m sure he’ll be more accepting of the one who I have decided to date.” “Has Mr. Hacker found anything other than your files at the therapist?” Sooyoung adjusts the flower she has in her bun. “Has anyone found out anything other than what we’ve been trying to decipher?” I turn back to the mirror and start messing around with my hair, “Nothing. It’s all dead ends or confusing riddles. I’m still working through what all the hi-lighted words could have in common. Yoongi’s been looking through letters and other documents. Our father’s office was a tomb of secrets, and someone wanted to make sure that us kids would have a hell of a time trying to figure it all out.” I shake my head, trying to clear all the negative thoughts. “Enough talk about this. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about boys?” I smirk over at the girls. “Yes, that’s what I like to hear,” Sooyoung has a giant grin on her face as she clasps her hands together. “Now, Jungkook and I are somewhere between friends and a couple for the moment. Just being able to talk to him more in these last few months has been a dream come true.” “How’s Taemin been, Boram?” I walk over and take a seat on a stool near both girls. Boram shrugs as her cheeks return to their blushing state. “He’s always off doing accounting things, and the times when we would be able to hangout he has to go bartend.” “There has to be a time when you both have downtime,” I nibble on my bottom lip. “In fact, I’ll make it happen when we are looking over the hours for Taemin.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Boram takes a deep breath. “If we aren’t meant to be, then we aren’t meant to be.” “You are so meant to be, Boo,” Sooyoung lifts her feet up to admire her cute slippers. “If it wasn’t for Areum telling Taehyung to put in a good word to Jungkook for me, I’d still be crushing from the sidelines. Friends help other friends, and family looks out for each other.” Boram giggles, “Bangtan is a family of friends.” “So, will you let me change around the bartenders to make sure that Taemin and you can hang out?” I lean towards the girl, grinning like a mad woman. She takes a deep breath, “Yes, I’ll let you change some things around.” “Sweet,” I lean back, satisfaction taking over my face as I stare at the ceiling. “Now, there’s only one boy left to talk about,” Sooyoung taps me with her foot to get me to look at her. “Areum, how is your boyfriend doing?” I feel a light blush rise onto my cheeks, “I don’t know what you are trying to get at, but Taehyung and I are doing just fine. We’ve been going on café or bookstore dates whenever he can sneak away and pick me up from university. He’s over in my room often so that we can work on things in each other’s presence. It’s a very nice relationship. Like none I’ve had before.” “So, are you in love with him?” Sooyoung leans forward. “I can’t believe you,” I shake my head. “He’s listening in on this conversation, and I would not like to talk about my deeper feelings for him where he can hear like this.” “So, you do love him?” Boram tilts her head as she holds back a smile. I sigh, knowing that they’ll keep prodding me until I give a solid answer. “I don’t know. I have this strong feeling within me that wants me to be with him, and touch him, and help him with whatever troubles he has. There’s a strange feeling within me that has me thinking that I knew him before this, but that’s how I feel about you, Sooyoung. Like we had been together before I met you,” I let my head fall so I’m staring down at my lap. “I don’t know.” From my peripheral vision I catch Sooyoung and Boram give each other a look that I can’t read. It’s like they had a split-second conversation about me. “Well, that sounds like love, my dear,” Sooyoung takes a deep breath. “You’re just afraid because you’ve had a relationship end shitty before. Taehyung isn’t like that. He’s not going to hurt you. I’ll make sure of it,” she clenches her fists on her lap. I chuckle, looking up at the only two girls in the world I would share this kind of information with. “We haven’t even kiss,” I can’t help the laugh that explodes from within me. “Holy fucking shit. I may be in love with this boy and we haven’t even kissed. He’s all I could ask for in a person to love, and I can’t even do the most basic action that couples do.” Boram and Sooyoung can’t help but join in on my laughter. It’s these kinds of moments that I live for with my friends. It is like we have forgotten that every day could be our last, and we are living like the young girls that we are. Nothing can get in the way of our joy. Nothing can get in the way of conversations on boys. “If you’re listening right now, Taehyung, I give you permission to kiss my best friend tonight,” Sooyoung is the first to catch her breath. “I can’t believe you just said that,” I groan, placing my head into my hands. “I’m not sure if I want him to be listening right now or not. Either way, I think I want to kiss Taehyungie tonight.” “Then we better get down to the ballroom,” Boram stands up. “A night of fun is ahead of us, girls. Let’s go get it started.”

********

I’ve been standing beside my brother for what feels like an eternity as we greet and speak with present and future business partners. While we both try to talk an equal amount, it is clear that Yoongi has taken over my father’s passion of speech and being in control. He answers all the questions about Bangtan, while I answer the more personal ones. It’s been a sight to see the older businessmen come in wearing basic costumes of sports players or movie stars from their childhood. The younger businessmen take the costume party to heart and have gone all out in popular television characters or superheroes. Yoongi is one of those who has gone with a costume that reflects his age: Naruto. He has the uniform, headband, spiked hair, and facial markings. It’s been interesting having to explain who we are dressed up as to those who our father brought into the organization. “It’s nice to see you, Dr. Sato,” Yoongi’s voice drags me out of my thoughts. “Ah, my old doctor,” I smile at the man dressed as a baseball player and the young man next to him dressed as Superman. “And someone that I feel I’ve seen somewhere.” “This is my son, Reo,” Dr. Sato pats his son on the shoulder. “We actually go to the same university, Areum,” Reo generously bows in my direction. “I’ve had a few classes with you.” “Oh, yes, that’s where I’ve seen you before,” I can’t stop the lie from passing through my lips. “It’s good to see you again. I don’t think we ever formally talked in school.” “No, you were always off with that one group of girls,” Reo steps closer to me as Yoongi begins to talk business with Dr. Sato. “Everyone always thought you were great friends. Until you blew up at them a few weeks ago.” I feel a heat rise onto my cheeks as I remember yelling at the Fakes. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot people don’t know about me.” “I’m really sorry about what happened to your dad. I lost my aunt and uncle to a bad accident, and I was very close with them. My cousins have lived with us ever since.” “I remember reading about that,” I reach up to push my crown back into place. “No one ever prepares you for the loss of a parent, or the loss of anyone close to you. Life is a bitch.” Reo laughs, “They say the same about karma. You sure have had to battle a lot that life has thrown at you, though. I couldn’t imagine what you go through.” I shrug, “It’s only made me stronger. I wouldn’t change my struggles for anything.” “How’s school life been like from the library?” Reo grins as he runs a hand through his hair. “Comfortable and quiet. I get more work done there then when I have to go to class. Might go to online after this semester though. Yoongi’s going to need help running Bangtan. We are co-CEO’s in this venture.” “I’ll miss seeing you at university, then. We should have lunch one day, so that you can stretch your legs and get out of that library.” I politely smile, trying my hardest not to roll my eyes, “Maybe we can figure something out. Just because I don’t go to class doesn’t mean I don’t have a lot of work to do.” “Sorry to interrupt,” Yoongi places his hand on my elbow. “Areum, we’ve been talking to people for hours, we need to go get something to eat.” I feel relief wash over me as I look over at my brother. “Has it really been a couple of hours now? I’m surprised my stomach hasn’t made any grumbling noises yet.” “It was nice talking to you, Areum,” Reo bows at me once again. “Hopefully we’ll see each other around campus.” “Yes, that would be lovely,” I nod at him. Yoongi doesn’t waste any time in dragging me away from the doctor and his son. His next mission is to get us to the buffet tables as soon as possible. “Are you okay, Yoongi?” I furrow my eyebrows together as I look over my brother. “I’m fine,” Yoongi hands me a plate. “It’s you who I’m worried about. I could feel you getting uncomfortable back there. Why didn’t you get my attention and lie to get out of that conversation?” “I was just being polite,” I shrug, starting to pile food onto my plate. “There are some people out there that you just have to deal with. He hadn’t made any big move on me, so I felt like I could handle it. I was just annoyed that he thought I was interested in him.” “So, you don’t feel any romantic feelings for him?” “Not a single romantic feeling,” I can’t help the look of disgust that forms on my face. “He’s definitely not my type. Too goody-two-shoes. I need someone with a bit more character,” I slightly smile as I think of Taehyung. “Good, because I like Dr. Sato, but there’s only so much I can take of his stories about work,” Yoongi lowly chuckles. “I think tonight is going very well.” “They would be so proud of us. Mother and father are looking down on us with big smiles on their faces. I just know it.” “They’ll be even happier when we sit down and eat,” Yoongi motions for me to follow him with the nod of his head. The two of us head to a back table where we will have just enough time to eat before someone calls for us. That’s the life of being the one’s in charge of the biggest organization in Seoul. Yoongi and I don’t talk much once we get seated and start stuffing food into our mouths. It gives me the perfect chance to search the throng of people for my friends. It’s not hard to find Sooyoung in her Tinkerbell outfit, so this has me spotting Jungkook and Taehyung chatting away with her. Jungkook is dressed up as a bunny, making him look a lot more adorable than what he usually does. Taehyung makes my heartrate speed up as his costume is a vampire. To keep the blush off my cheeks, I go back to scanning the room for my friends. I still can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever get some alone time with Taehyung tonight. Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok are off to the side with a clear look at the exit and entrance so they can keep their eye on the guests. Seokjin is in a pumpkin costume that he totally got at the dollar store. Namjoon is dressed up as the popular Kakao Friend Ryan, and it actually fits his personality more than he might realize. Hoseok went with a classic from Star Wars: Luke Skywalker. Another scan over the crowd gets me to spot Boram, Minho, and Taemin. Boram has now put paws on her hands to complete her kitten look, and I must say she’s one of the cutest girls here. Minho looks to be dressed up as a detective of sorts, and Taemin has taken on his friend’s role as doctor. Now if Boram could just stand a little closer to Taemin. “Ah, it’s about time that I find the hosts of this lovely event,” Jimin takes a seat between Yoongi and me. “You look beautiful, baby girl,” he gently pinches my cheek. “Jiminie,” I whine, slapping his hand. “Why do you do this?” Jimin widely smiles so his eyes turn into crescents. He’s gone with a simple dinosaur onesie, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t looking super adorable. “I compliment you because that’s what best friends do,” he taps my nose. “Well you look adorable,” I giggle leaning into the dinosaur boy. “Did you stop by just to talk, or is there something going on?” Yoongi speaks up. “A little bit of both,” Jimin turns to look at my brother. “It’s been a while since the three of us have been able to spend some time together.” “Well, we aren’t in middle school anymore. We don’t walk down the street hand in hand as we head to school. A lot has changed, especially in the past few months.” “We’re all still the best of friends,” I reach over to shove Yoongi’s shoulder. “There’s no reason to get all serious.” “You’re right,” Yoongi let’s out a breath, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “It’s been a long night already, and we’re only halfway through. Bambi and I have talked to so many people that Bangtan is going to continue working with, and those who want to start working with us. With all the work we are still doing trying to find out about our parents, life is going to be busier than ever.” “Speaking of life getting busier, I need to tell you something, Yoongi,” I nibble on my bottom lip as the two boys look at me. “You are not quitting school,” Yoongi and Jimin say in unison. “Areum, I don’t give a fuck how busy Bangtan gets, you will keep going to university until you graduate,” Yoongi glares at me. “I’m not quitting,” I roll my eyes. “The university has an online program where I can take all my required classes in an online setting. That way I can be home, where it’s safe, and have time to help you out with Bangtan. It’s a win-win for everyone.” “You have to admit, she’s pretty much doing that already,” Jimin shrugs. “Might as well make it official to the university.” “We’ll talk about this when it gets closer to deciding what you need to do for the next semester,” Yoongi turns his gaze to Jimin. “Now, what’s going on?” “Hold on,” I lean towards my brother. “We aren’t discussing this later. I have already talked to me advisor to change how I do school. I am taking online classes next semester, and maybe until I graduate. This is my education, you don’t get to decide how I do or don’t do it. Now, Jimin, please, tell us what is wrong?” “There’s nothing wrong,” Jimin pats my knee. “Just some drunk guys that are out in the hall getting ready to brawl, and I thought you’d like to come and teach them a lesson,” he evilly grins at Yoongi. “Just like old times on the playground to the bullies.” Yoongi smirks, and I can see his eyes light up in remembrance, “That sounds like a great way to release some stress.” “Have fun you two,” I giggle, standing up and smoothing out my dress. “Kick some ass for me.” “You aren’t going to come watch,” Jimin winks at me. “Don’t want to see how fucking amazing we are?” “I already know you are,” I pat Jimin’s shoulder. “I have some friends that I would like to catch up with, and I wouldn’t be able to stand by and just watch you two have all the fun.” Yoongi stands up, “You look too pretty to go and get in a fight.” Jimin chuckles, jumping out of his seat. “She’ll fight in anything, so she has other reasons why she doesn’t want to come with us.” I give Jimin a quick look to shut his mouth before he spills anything else. “I’m going to go talk to Sooyoung, my best friend. We have to get back to planning our wedding,” I lightly cross my arms over my stomach. “If Yoongi won’t let me date a boy from the mansion, I’ll date her.” “I doubt she’s moved on from the assassin,” Yoongi walks over to me. “Nice try though, as you’d get my blessing.” “Just go,” I shove the two boys. “That fight isn’t going to wait forever.” Yoongi and Jimin nod before rushing off to go show some idiots that you don’t fight in the Min Mansion. I take a deep breath, turning to face the center of the ballroom. All night there has been music playing, but only the young people have taken the opportunity to dance in the center of the room. If only I could find the one person that I have been wanting to see all day. Then we could slow dance in the crowd of people without the worry of Yoongi seeing us. “Hello babe,” Taehyung’s voice shocks me out of my search for him. “You are looking very sexy this evening. It’s been hard waiting for a chance to come talk to you.” I spin on my heel to see my boyfriend with a loving smile on his face. “How do you think I’ve felt waiting to stop talking to all these people when my boyfriend is off to the side looking so hot?” I grin, reaching out to grab his hand. Up close, Taehyung looks even better dressed up as vampire. The fake fangs look to have been professionally made to fit his mouth, and the small amount of faux dried blood around his mouth is subtle enough to look good. It’s clear that he’s wearing a bit of black eyeshadow to give him age, but it’s the red contact lenses that give him the demonic look. His natural brown hair is slightly messy, and the black clothes with the cape complete the look. “That’s what we get when we can’t tell someone’s brother,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of my forehead. “How about we go out and slow dance, huh? I’ve been imaging dancing with you all night, and I don’t think I can wait any longer.” “Let’s go then,” I pull Taehyung towards the dance floor. It takes us a couple of minutes to maneuver our way into the center, but it is worth it to dance with my boyfriend. “You sure like keeping an eye on me, don’t you?” I have my arms around his neck, giving me access to mess with the hair at the nape of his neck. For once I am happy that I decided to wear shoes with a decent heel. “Yet, every time I spotted you, you were deep in conversation.” “I can keep a good eye on you without staring at you,” Taehyung has his hands firmly on my hips. “It’s my job to watch you, so I guess you could say I enjoy it.” “It was so annoying when all the young guys would come up to talk to Yoongi and me, and how blatantly they would flirt with me,” I roll my eyes. “That’s something I will not miss once we can go public. I only want to be with you.” “I saw that last guy you were with,” he pulls me closer. “The son of your old doctor. He had this look in his eyes. He likes you, but there was something else.” “Reo,” I feel the name make my stomach clench with anxiety. “He was nice, but just gave me a weird vibe. Like he thinks he should be treating me like we’ve been friends for years, but I just met him.” “It made me so angry that I couldn’t step in and get him to go away,” he rests his forehead on mine. “You’re my babe. My one and only. No one will be with you like I am.” “Tae,” I look up at him through my eyelashes. “Did you hear the conversation I had with Boram and Sooyoung?” My cheeks are burning as I ask the question. “I did,” Taehyung takes in a slow breath. “Even though I knew that you probably didn’t want me to, I couldn’t mute the microphones.” “It’s fine,” I pull my head away, so I have a clear look at his face. “I think that I wanted you to hear more than I hoped you wouldn’t. They would have teased me endlessly whatever I said.” “Did you mean it, though?” Taehyung has become quite serious in the past few moments. “Do you really feel that strongly about me?” I tenderly smiles, “The more I have gotten to know you, the more my feelings for you have grown. I’m so happy that you have entered my life, Taehyungie. You’ve helped me with so much.” “But do you love me?” Taehyung is staring into me with an intensity that I don’t think I have ever had to face. “Areum, I have been watching you for years, and I never thought this day would come where I would be able to hold you in my arms. To cuddle with you. To help you through problems. To have the chance to kiss you. I have been so helplessly in love with you for a long time, and I know that sounds so cliché and cheesy, but it’s the truth. I held it together for so long because I didn’t want you to think I was weird and push me away. I was so afraid of losing you and making your brother mad that I had even talked to you. But damn it, I don’t give a fuck anymore. I am in love with you, Areum.” I feel a few tears sliding down my cheeks, and my mouth has fallen open slightly. “Tae, I…” “Oh babe, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Taehyung’s face is filled with concern as he wipes the tears off my face. “I’m just done lying to myself, and especially to you.” “They are happy tears,” I giggle as a few more tears escape and fall down my face. “I’ve only ever loved a handful of people in my entire life. They have always been like family to me, but you are different. I never knew if I would be able to love another human being like the way my parents loved each other after my heart was broken for the first time. Until I met you,” I chuckle as the tears keep on flowing. “Damn it, I don’t want to cry. I’m just so happy because I love you too, Taehyung. I love you, and this is just the beginning.” “Take a deep breath babe,” Taehyung shows off his boxy smile as he dries my face with his thumb. “I don’t like seeing you cry, even if this is a happy cry.” I focus on my breathing, so the tears stop flowing down my cheeks. This is not anywhere close to how I imagined this scene happening. After a few moments, I have calmed down and dried my cheeks of the tears. “Good, that’s my girl,” Taehyung kisses my forehead. “Now, there’s one more thing I need to tell you.” “You can kiss me, Tae,” I lovingly smile at my boyfriend, pulling my left hand forward to cup his face. “I really want to kiss you.” “It’s not that,” he tucks some loose hair behind my ear. “I mean, I really want to kiss you, but there’s something important I need to tell you.” “What is it?” I tilt my head to the side in curiosity. “You keep on saying how close you’ve felt to me since that day at the viewing. How you feel like you’ve known me for a lot longer than the few months we’ve been together. Well, I can explain why you feel that way,” he takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it as if to think over his next few words. “We did know each other years ago, right before your mother was murdered. I’m scattered all over your therapist files, so he took your memory of me. All the days we spent together as kids. All the days we spent getting closer and closer. He made you talk about it all, and took me from you. I don’t know why,” he shakes his head. I open my mouth, but I can’t think of a single word to tell the boy that I love so much. Then, like a crash of thunder, I feel my brain release the floodgates on a section of my memories.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And that is the lucky chapter 13 (I love how Halloween fell on this chapter). Anyways, I am so sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out. A lot of things happened in my life, but I am going to try to be better from now on! Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading! And I’d love to hear what you thought.

#BTS imagine #BTS mafia au #BTS!mafia #BTS x oc #Jungkook x oc #Jungkook imagine #Taehyung x oc #Taehyung imagine #Jimin x oc #Jimin imagine #Namjoon x oc #Namjoon imagine #Hoseok x oc #Hoseok imagine #Yoongi x oc #Yoongi imagine #Seokjin x oc #Seokjin imagine #SHINee imagine #SHINee mafia au #SHINee x oc #Minho imagine #Minho x oc #Taemin imagine #Taemin x oc #my OCs