#also more geese content will come tomorrow probably

[feralshadowdemon]

collection of some of my fav buzzfeed unsolved moments but i edited dazai and chuuya onto them

#bsd #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bungo stray dogs #buzzfeed unsolved #enjoy these memes i edited together #did it in my spare time #also more geese content will come tomorrow probably #maybe i'll make some dead apple geese #draw chugooseya throwing a building at a dragon even

[uh-drarry]

Day 28 - Sweater

This is from the wonderful list posted by @remus-john-lupin ! This is unbetaed, sorry for any mistakes (not proofread, we die like men).

These are within the universe of my other content, but you do not have to read those to understand these. I won’t be making them all within the same time period but they’ll take place in different years of the same au. This one takes place while Wolfstar is newly dating. Happy December and Happy Holidays!

It was possible that Remus had never looked more adorable to Sirius than he did at that moment. His hair was fluffy and a bit curly. He wore white, high waisted cuffed jeans, and white sneakers. But what tied it all together for Sirius, was his sweater. Blue with clouds stitched into it. Truly adorable. And he was Sirius’s boyfriend, Sirius couldn’t believe it still.

Remus had fallen asleep in his squishy armchair at the library while waiting for Sirius, it seemed. They’d been planning to meet to work on homework together but Sirius got out of class an hour later than Remus did on Mondays. 

Once Sirius had memorized the adorable picture in front of him, he moved to Remus to wake him up. Remus wouldn’t be happy if they didn’t get anything done tonight.

“Moony.” Sirius whispered, kissing his cheek.

“Hmm?” Remus mumbled, not opening his eyes.

“We gotta do homework, Re.” Sirius chuckled. He ran a hand through Remus’s soft hair, unable to help himself with it right there.

“Don’t wanna.” Remus said tiredly. He pressed his head back into Sirius’s hand, liking the sensation it was giving him.

“I know, but you won’t be happy tomorrow if we don’t get some work done tonight. How about, you can sit in my lap while we work on French, and I’ll stay in your room tonight and you can be the little spoon?” Sirius asked with a smile, knowing Remus wouldn’t be able to resist.

He sighed heavily, but sat up straight, rubbing his eyes before finally opening them to see Sirius right next to him. He smiled, and leaned in for a quick kiss.

“Let’s save French for last then. Should we start with biology?” Remus asked, reaching for his textbook and notes on the subject.

When Sirius didn’t answer, he looked up to see his boyfriend staring at him. “What, do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re just adorable.” Those three words were suddenly on the tip of his tongue, but it had to be too soon to say them, right? Sirius held them back, and quickly opened his book to distract himself from that possibly scary thought. Remus couldn’t possibly feel that way already. They hadn’t been dating very long yet. Not even a whole term. Maybe he was falling way too hard, way too fast? He’d have to consult with James tomorrow.

But he did. He really did love Remus, he was quickly realizing.

“Pads?” Remus startled Sirius out of his slight panic. “You good? You kind of spaced out there.”

Sirius pasted on a smile, “Yeah, I’m good. Anyway, biology right?”

“James! Panic! Help!” Sirius practically yelled, running into his best friend’s dorm room the next afternoon, only to freeze and run back out of the room slamming the door behind him.

“James! I can’t unsee that! Lock your goddamn door!” Sirius yelled through the closed doorway. He could hear furious mumbling and shuffling on the other side before James opened the door once again, this time dressed.

“Why hello, Lily! Fancy seeing you here!” Sirius said, walking into the room, as everything was back in order. 

“Hello, Sirius. How’re you?” Lily asked.

Sirius had to give her credit, she wasn’t blushing at all, unlike her boyfriend. “I’m panicking. It’s wonderful.” He replied serenely.

“What are we panicking about?” James asked, turning to take a seat on his bed next to Lily.

Sirius started pacing across the floor. “I am apparently in love with Remus.” James opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius kept speaking, “I just realized this last night. Kinda hit me like a ton of bricks, I was not expecting it. But he looked so adorable sleeping in the library, and he was wearing this adorable blue sweater with clouds on them, and his hair is so soft, and he’s so kind to everyone, and I don’t deserve him! Isn’t it too early to be in love? We’ve been dating, like, three months!”

“Sirius, calm down. Here, take my spot.” Lily said, standing up and moving Sirius to sit on the bed in her place. She grabbed James’s water bottle from his bedside table and handed it over, telling him to drink and calm himself.

Once he was breathing a little easier, he thanked her, and put the water bottle back.

“Okay,” Lily said, “Why are we freaking out about being in love with Remus?” 

“We’ve only been dating for three months, isn’t that way too early?”

“I mean you’ve known each other for like six years now, so no I don’t think it’s too early in that sense. If you had randomly met at some bar or something, maybe then I’d question you more, but you were best friends before you started dating. I would say the feelings were also probably already there, no? You had a major crush right?”

Sirius blushed, “Yeah, I guess.”

“So there, I don’t think it’s too early for you to have those feelings and I think you should tell him.” Lily said, hands on her hips.

“You think so?” Sirius questioned, looking between the other two for confirmation.

“Yeah, Pads.” James slapped him on the back in support before ruffling his hair. “Tell him how you feel, I can’t imagine he doesn’t feel the same anyway.”

Sirius took a deep breath and stood up, ready to go find Remus again. “Thanks guys.”

When Remus opened his door after Sirius knocked, Sirius was sure he was going to die. Remus was in another adorable sweater.

“How do you own the cutest sweaters in the world?” Sirius asked, staring at Remus’s chest where there were white geese walking in a line across another blue sweater.

Remus smiled, “I’m glad you like them. Mum makes them for me, usually. Come in.”

Sirius walked in and sat back on his boyfriend’s bed, patting his lap so Remus would come snuggle.

Once they were comfortably situated, Sirius spoke up. “Re, I have to tell you something.”

“That’s never good.” Remus said, pressing his face into Sirius’s chest instead of meeting his eyes.

“No, no, I promise it’s nothing bad. Or, well, I hope you don’t think it’s bad. I don’t think it’s bad, I do hope we’re on the same page, it’ll be very embarrassing if we aren’t on–” Remus leaned up and kissed Sirius, stopping his nervous rambling. “Babe, what did you want to say? “I love you, Remus.” Sirius said quietly, pressed against Remus’s neck, kissing back up to his cheek, then his lips again which were curved into a huge smile.

“I love you, Sirius.” Remus replied, and pulled him in closer for more kisses.

Here’s the sweater Remus was wearing at the beginning.

Masterlist

#wolfstar #wolfstar ficmas #wolfstar fic #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar holidays #wolfstar christmas #harry potter au #Remus Lupin #remus #sirius #Sirius Black #Sirius Lupin

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

Choice

(Hayffie pregnancy. 6 years after the Revolution.)

Effie sat at the vanity in her Capitol apartment. The tabletop was neatly stacked with cases of makeup and bottles of polish, lotions, and perfumes. Nearly everything was in its proper place. She slid her fingers along the mahogany surface and paused on the one item that didn’t belong there; a plastic container which held two pills, the first to help her cervix open and the second to help her uterus contract. “Help,” the doctor had said to simplify the science, but the word felt as out of place as plastic on glossy wood.

She looked up at the mirror. Her face was bare and her hair natural. It was difficult to look at herself with imperfections glaring back. 38 years of smiles, genuine and false, had brought lines to her cheeks and to the corners of her eyes. The creases stayed now, even when she wasn’t forcing a smile. The illusion of agelessness was becoming harder for her to effect.

“Pregnant?? You MUST be mistaken. It’s just a stomach flu.” she had said to the doctor with incredulity and indignation, “I simply can’t be pregnant. I’m too... old.” She held the thought but left it unspoken.

“There’s no mistake, Ma’am.”

The “Ma’am” comment didn’t help matters. She’d glared at him in annoyance.

“Would you like to see a scan and hear the heartbeat?” he asked.

Effie was stunned. “There’s a heartbeat?”

“We should be able to hear it with a vaginal ultrasound. Without one, it will be difficult to assess the gestational age since you’ve been on continuous hormones to prevent ovulation and menstruation for...” The doctor glanced at Effie’s chart. “...Many years.”

“Prevent ovulation... Hah! That’s a laugh.”

“Hormonal birth control is 99% effective when used correctly.”

“Well, OF COURSE I used it correctly!”

“I’m not implying otherwise, Mrs... “The doctor glanced at her chart again. “...Trinket. Even with flawless use there’s still a 1% chance of pregnancy. And, well, here you are.”

Apparently the odds were not in Effie’s favor. She considered the irony and clung to the possibility of a false positive.

“It’s MS. Trinket! And YES I need to see a scan.”

The ultrasound was quick, and moments later Effie was listening to a heartbeat and looking at an image of what appeared to be a microscopic teddy bear, only without ears yet.

“That’s human?”

The doctor stifled a chuckle. “Indeed, Ms. Trinket, your baby is human.”

“My... baby?”

“And in perfect development for 9 weeks gestation.”

“9 weeks?”

Oh, my God... Haymitch.

“And perfect,” the doctor said that word again.

“This is NOT perfect. This situation is not even remotely perfect! I did not intend for this to happen.”

“I understand,” the doctor sympathized, “Would you like for me to explain your options?”

“Yes. Please... Can’t someone else VOLUNTEER for this?” Effie focused on not hyperventilating as the doctor described medications and procedures used for abortion. He also described the course of pregnancy if she chose to not terminate.

In the end, Effie carried the pills home in that plastic container. She also took a digital copy of the ultrasound. Though she wasn’t sure why, because the thrumming of that tiny heartbeat would probably be stuck in her mind forever.

The vanity mirror and the birth control had been tricksters. Effie felt like a fool. An imperfect fool... with a perfect “baby” inside her. Of course any baby she conceived WOULD be perfect. “Nothing but the best for my girl,” she recalled her mother’s oft-spoken words.

Would this baby be a girl too if she let it happen? Or would it be a boy?

Effie stared at the pills, then stared again at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t see a baby. She couldn’t feel anything inside her. She felt alone.

She sent Haymitch a message. “I need to see you. Can I come tomorrow? — E”

He sent a teasing response later that evening. “It would be my pleasure to make you come tomorrow. — H”

Effie couldn’t help but smile, before she started to cry.

***

Six years had passed since the Revolution, and Haymitch considered himself at this point to be a fairly functional alcoholic. One of the ways he stayed functional was to work. His expertise in strategy made him a sought after consultant by both government and businesses in the Republic. But he rejected offers at that life. He decided instead to raise geese.

“A goose farmer?” Effie had laughed years ago at his plans, thinking he was joking about a brand of liquor that was popular in the Capitol. “Yeah, right, I’m sure you’ll be *farming* that *Goose* day and night.”

“Nice try, Sweetheart. But I’m not joking. My mother raised geese. She turned a decent profit on their eggs and meat. Not enough to keep from having to put my name in extra times each year at the reaping, but enough to survive awhile.”

“I didn’t know.” Effie had developed a habit of laying her hand on his chest and stroking the hollow between his collarbones as an offering of tenderness whenever she pitied him. Haymitch hated to be pitied, but he let her do it because the way she did it felt so good.

“Now you know.” He pulled away slowly. Feeling good with her, with anyone, for too long was dangerous. “Some eggs hatched last week. The goslings are still in the incubator. Do you want to see?”

“They’re inside your HOUSE?!”

“For now,” he chuckled, taking her hand and leading her to another room. On a table was a heat lamp glowing red above a slotted crate filled with the chatter of baby geese.”

“I declare! Haymitch Abernathy is a goose farmer. I never imagined myself saying those words.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not a total career change; I’m still a drunk too.” He winked at her, then lifted the lid off the crate.

The goslings still had their downy plumage. They were balls of fluff, and Effie’s eyes lit up like a little girl. The light came from inside her, much deeper than her gold mascara.

“Do you want to hold one?”

“Hold one!? Goodness, no. I have no idea how to do that. I’d probably squeeze the poor thing to death.” She watched Haymitch pick up a gosling and cradle it in his palm. Those hands were lethal in The Games because they had to be. Those hands clutched a knife in sleep. And those hands had such capacity for gentleness. She knew.

“Hold out your hands; you’ll be alright.”

She hesitated.

“Honey, I know how soft your hands are. Trust me; you’ll be alright.”

Effie cupped her hands like a chalice. She squealed a bit as he placed the gosling into her palms.

“Shhh,” he said to soothe them.

“Ohhhh, it’s feet are walking on me!” Effie fussed.

“It’s just a baby, Sweetheart. It’s not going anywhere. You’re alright. You’ll be alright.”

“It tickles,” Effie giggled, natural like a girl again, discovering pleasure in something new. “It’s soft.” She looked at Haymitch. Then back to the gosling she said, “Hello, you.”

Haymitch watched her with amused enchantment. In the months since the Revolution, her appearance had become less clown-like and more authentically her. He was still figuring out who that was, and he guessed she was still figuring herself out too.

“Take it!” she hollered suddenly, “It just defecated in my hand. Take this thing!”

Haymitch laughed as he put the gosling back with the others, and Effie ran to the bathroom. He closed the crate and followed her.

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. I feel defiled. This sink is not enough. I need a bath.”

He held her hips from behind, looking at her in the mirror. “You don’t look defiled, not yet. I love this shirt and skirt thing you’te wearing.” He slipped his thumbs under the hem of her blouse, caressing her skin in circles. “I need a bath too. Do you want company?”

She turned around to face him. She might be squeamish about baby things, but Haymitch she could handle. She slid her arms around his waist and untucked the back of his shirt . “Well, I didn’t ride all this way for nothing.”

***

The other way Haymitch stayed functional as an alcoholic was to walk. He walked a lot. The fences that surrounded District 12 for the first 42 years of his life had been cleared away with the rubble during the years of reconstruction. The forest was wide open, and he spent a lot of time in it, just moving. Katniss had warned him years ago to step loudly.

“After everything we’ve been through, I’d hate to mistake you for a deer and shoot you. You probably wouldn’t taste very good.”

“I’m definitely not dear, Sweetheart,” he’d retorted, “Don’t mistake me for that.”

She paused. “Yes, you are. And I’m not the only one who knows it.”

So Haymitch stepped loudly today as usual. As he walked, he wondered about Effie’s message, short and urgent. If she needed a quick fuck, surely she could have gotten that from somebody else without having to ride across the country. Most of the time that’s not how it was with them anyway. Not anymore. Sex between them was loaded with feeling. Way too much feeling for his comfort, but it was too good with her to just stop. He hadn’t been with anyone besides Effie in at least a year. Work, walking, and drinking filled his days and nights. When he wanted more, he took the train to see her, and he never turned her down when she asked to visit.

A couple of months had passed since his last trip to the Capitol. He wouldn’t acknowledge how he missed her and how it felt to receive her message. Last night he dulled the feelings with Scotch. Today he walked and watched the sun move across the sky. The train was scheduled to arrive this evening. Alone in the woods he pretended to not be counting the hours.

***

The monotony of a train ride which she’d taken countless times gave Effie too much space in which to consider and reconsider whether she should have even gotten on the train. Running to the bathroom to throw up during the first few hours of the trip certainly didn’t make anything easier.

She had messaged Haymitch yesterday on inmpulse, in shock really. In the stillness now, reality was sinking in. What would it serve to tell him that she was... pregnant. She could barely think the word. How would she say it out loud? Besides, she was reasonably content with the way things were, and this could screw up everything, not just with Haymitch, who’d grown on her in ways she didn’t understand. But EVERYTHING.

Her glory days as a true fashion icon and escort had died with The Games. But she was still Effie Trinket! She picked herself up and adapted. She fashioned a career within the Republic’s efforts to promote democracy and to honor the fallen. I organize marketing and tours for the entire Memorial Complex for goodness sake! The place would fall apart without me. Effie hadn’t NEEDED anyone for a long time, maybe ever. She couldn’t understand why she suddenly felt alone and vulnerable.

I’ll get over it. Maybe I’ll just get over it. But what if I don’t get over it? Get over WHAT even? Oh, why didn’t the universe just stick to the cards! I had written them out exactly how I wanted my life to be.

She didn’t know.

Somewhere in the stillness, ethics got the best of her or came from the best of her. Haymitch should know about the pregnancy, not just because she felt alone and vulnerable, but because telling him was the right thing to do, regardless of any other decisions she would make and regardless of the consequences.

***

Haymitch sat on his porch beside a purple umbrella. A smile crept over his face as he touched the lace fringe. One gust of wind would destroy the thing, but Effie always prioritized style over function. She probably even had a back-up in her suitcase. She may be impractical but definitely not stupid.

He kicked off his boots and pulled off his socks. Picking out the stickers could wait; he wanted to see her. The door was unlocked; she’d found the spare key. He changed its hiding place periodically. Unfortunately if he moved it when he was drunk, then finding it when he sobered up was sometimes a challenge. Fortunately he didn’t have many hiding spots, nor did he have much inside his house worth stealing. He just felt safer with the doors and windows locked. Not that much safer, but enough to get some sleep occasionally.

Inside he took his coat off and dropped it on the floor.

“I’m in the dining room, Haymitch,” she called out, knowing that surprising him in his house could be dangerous. The one surprise she had for him already felt dangerous enough. “The train arrived early, so I let myself in. I hope you don’t mind.”

Haymitch peered around the corner of the nook she called “the dining room.” Effie sat at the table with a glass of Scotch in front of her. A silk scarf which matched her umbrella draped loosely over her head, wrapped once around her neck, and the fringe hung in front just above her breasts. Her blonde hair peeked out from beneath. Her makeup was light, almost nonexistent. Her dress hugged her curves without flamboyance

She was hiding. This understated appearance was Effie’s way of hiding.

He didn’t know why she was hiding, but he wasn’t complaining. He loved her like this.

“This is ‘the drinking room,’ Sweetheart, and I see you’re off to an early start.”

As he crossed the room, she stood up and stepped into his embrace. He smelled of pine trees, crushed mint, and sweat. He was damp and dusty and probably ruining her clothes, but she didn’t care. Not today. Today she leaned into it all, because what if this was the last time she’d have the chance?

He pulled back just enough to unwrap her scarf and drape it across the back of her chair. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good” is such a short word, she murmured, closing the distance he’d created.

“I have longer options for you,” he whispered into the corner of her mouth.

“Then kiss me. For as long as you want. Just once, without holding back.”

Her breath was cinnamon. It had been weeks since he’d tasted her.. Something was up, but he’d figure it out later.

“Just one kiss?”

“For now.”

“Okay. I won’t hold back if you won’t eith....” He didn’t get to finish that last word before she started the game.

Time moved with the speed of their mouths, slowly at first and then quickening. She slipped her hands under his shirt and her fingers played over the muscles along his sides. Through the past few years he’d become stronger with work. She delighted in his body, but wouldn’t admit it.

“Cheater,” he muttered without breaking their kiss. Her dress was too form-fitting to lift, so he held her waist and caressed her through the fabric. His thumbs traced her ribcage and settled on her stomach, jolting her back to reality.

“Haymitch, wait,” she ended the kiss, trying to find her breath.

“What’s going on, Sweetheart?” He said the endearment without any sarcasm. “How about we sit down, and you tell me, okay? Can you do that?”

Effie nodded, slumping into her chair. He pulled up a chair too and sat close enough to touch her. He just wasn’t sure if she wanted him to touch her. So he waited.

She pushed the glass of Scotch toward him. “I poured this for YOU. Let’s start with this.”

He swallowed the liquor in one gulp, wary.

“You’ll need another.” She poured him a second glass, which he drank as quickly as the first.

“If you want to get me drunk you should just hand me the bottle.”

“I don’t want you drunk, just prepared.”

“Prepared for what?”

She reached into the bag beside her chair, pulled out a disc and slid it along the same path as the Scotch.

“What’s this?”

“Just watch it.”

“Now?”

She nodded.

Haymitch reached behind him and plugged it into the nearest viewer.

The microscopic teddy bear without ears filled the screen. The tiny heartbeat filled the room.

“Jesus, Effie. What is this?” he asked again, already knowing and not yet believing.”

“It’s an ultrasound... It’s... my ultrasound.” She whispered ‘my.’

“When?”

“Yesterday. Well, 9 weeks ago. I mean, the ultrasound was yesterday. But 9 weeks ago...”

Haymitch did the math.

“How did this happen?”

“Isn’t it a little late for the HOW talk? One of my eggs and one of your sperm had a party and made... that.”

“Mine? Are you sure?”

Effie started to simmer. “OF COURSE I’m sure!”

“How can you be sure?”

“I haven’t had sex with anyone besides you in over a year, Haymitch!”

His jaw dropped, and she immediately softened. She hadn’t meant for that reality to slip out. It said too much about her feelings. It revealed depths of her that she didn’t intend.

He reached for the bottle of Scotch, and poured himself a third glass. “Do you want one?”

“A baby?”

“I was going to say a glass of liquor, but let’s go with your question first.”

He looked right at her eyes, right into and through her. He hadn’t walked away from her, not yet.

“A baby?” she wondered, “In THIS world? Who in their right mind would want to have a baby after so much horror?”

“I’m not asking about *anybody in their right mind.* I’m asking about YOU, Sweetheart.” The endearment was soft again.

“That’s NOT funny!”

“I’m not trying to be funny. ...I just notice you’re not drinking.”

Effie reached into her bag again and pulled out the plastic container. “One pill for my cervix to open. Then one the next day for my uterus to contract.”

“You haven’t taken them.”

She shook her head ‘no’.

“Why not?”

The tiny heartbeat kept echoing through the room. Neither of them reached to turn off the viewer.

Effie closed her eyes. “Because of THAT. Because that could become a baby... my baby... our baby. It’s a lot to think about. It could change everything. Even not having it could change everything.”

When she opened her eyes, his were still on her. “It’s been at least a year since I’ve had sex with anyone but you, Honey. Something’s changed already.”

She didn’t expect that response. Everything felt wide open, like her organs might fall out, or maybe it was that thing some people call a soul. He was close enough to touch, but she didn’t touch him.

“When I didn’t care about anyone, it was hard enough. But now...”

“Now what?”

“Now I never stop being scared.” He said it. He’d never said it before.

She caressed his shirt sleeve. “I’m scared too.”

“You’re alright. You’re going to be alright.” He covered her hand with his.

She wanted to ask him the same question that he had asked her, Do YOU want a baby?

She was afraid that his answer would be ‘yes.’ And she was afraid that his answer would be ‘no.’

Mostly she was afraid of her own answer, the one she hadn’t yet spoken.

#hayffie #hayffie fanfiction #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #hayffie baby #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #choice #haymitch x effie #effie x haymitch #thg fanfiction #the capitol #district 12 #geese #HayffieFics

[lunamusings]

Gravity Well

A Loki x Lithium Fanfiction (CanonxOC)

Set before the events of Thor, Loki receives as large mysterious crate of alcohol the day before his birthday. What seems like a strange yet benign gift from an anonymous person ends up being more than he, or the woman at the bottom of the crate bargained for.

Chapter Warnings: mild language, the occasional innuendo (because Loki)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At first glance, the crate was nothing particularly unusual or special.  Just a rough-hewn wooden box that had the sharp smell of being made of new boards. It was large but not so much as to cause alarm about what it might contain.

Not like the last time a larger container was in his room. Despite how many years had past, Thor still found it hilarious that he had pranked him with a box of angry water fowl.

So Loki was cautious of this crate that had appeared while he was at dinner. He circled it , head tilted at a quizzical angle, looking for any indication of what this strange delivery could be. The opposite side bore a brand that indicated it was from Binary Star Brewery, whatever that was.  He leaned his long frame over to examine it further and popped back up in surprise. If the brand was to believed, this mysterious delivery was from Midgard.

Who would be sending him anything from a realm so rarely visited anymore?

His curiosity piqued, he circled it once more, finding an envelope attached to the side opposite from brand. The paper was light and flimsy, like something mass produced with little care or attention, with basic black ink addressing it to him, care of the palace.

Loki opened the envelope as he sat down in the chair by his writing desk, leaning the chair on its back legs.

"Dear Customer, Enclosed in this crate is our Imperial Package-“

A smirk spread across his face. “I am already in possession of that, I assure you.”

“- of assorted house brews from our award-winning collection of fine alcohols, ordered for you by an anonymous individual in honor of your up-coming birthday."

He took a moment to consider this, staring back at the crate in question. It was tall enough to reach his knees. How much did this "anonymous individual" think he drank anyway? Hopefully the awards won indicated quality or he was going be quite literally knee-deep in bad fermentation.

"Please accept a bonus gift as our thanks for your business, packaged with the bottles.

Sincerely,

Bartholomew Kranston, Owner and son of the Founder of Binary Star Brewery.

PS: Don't forget to leave positive reviews of our products on social media!"

Loki arched an eyebrow at the canned sign-off. What was this social media and why was this Kranston guy soliciting his opinion on the wares?

He looked up at the crate again, dramatically crumpling and tossing the paper into the small waste bin next to the desk. “May as well see what I’m stuck with for who knows how long.”

The construction of the box was simple enough and the boards as flimsy that he had no need of tools or assistance to remove the lid. He held a spell in reserve in case the contents proved to be more sinister than a ridiculous number of alcohol bottles.

He was not about to be chased through the palace by rabid geese again.

It proved unnecessary as removing the lid revealed a pleasing pattern of brown glass bottles in a stiff  multi-layered paper honey comb of slots to protect them. Another piece of paper sat atop them with a three layered diagram.

The first level contained something called “craft beers”, the former word having no meaning he could understand from the context. What did they do, knit the beer? There were also a line of bottles labeled as ciders of the alcoholic persuasion as well. Those were familiar enough, he figured, even if the names of the individual kinds left him baffled. The beer labeled “Hair of the Dog” was going straight to Thor because the literal visual was completely unappetizing to him.

The second layer sounded more his speed, with a selection of wines of different fruits. Asgard had none of them so those would at least be an interesting experience. There were a few more ciders, including a mix of cider and dark beer which also sounded intriguing. One corner was entirely a variety of rice wine, which from the context was a grain rather than a fruit.

But what was most interesting about that was the name of that layer’s line. All were created by a particular brew master from Binary Star, who called their work “Cute But Deadly”.

“Sounds like a person I could get along with with.”

The last layer was labeled as the bonus gift, and that it was meant to be a surprise. As much as that was intriguing as well, it was late and the next day would be boisterous as it would be busy. Royal birthdays were events for all to share and his was the one being celebrated.

At least in theory.

He placed the paper back in with the bottles and slid the lid back over. He would dig farther into it tomorrow, along side the other surprises the day would hold, probably share the mysterious beverages with his mother.

And not forget to give Thor the “Hair of the Dog”.

No sooner were the lights out and he tucked under the linens and furs did the rattling and thumping start. Loki cast his gaze to the crate, only to watch it jump slightly as another thump followed by the rattle of the bottles floated ominously across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lithium woke to darkness, the smell of pine wood and the rough feel of burlap against the side she lay on. The only familiar sensation was the smell of her old messenger bag, tucked under her arm, the novelty pins on its flap cool against her skin. Every other smell she discovered was foreign and set off alarm bells in her fog-muddled mind.

She did a mental check of her body. She felt no pain aside from a dull headache, but when she tried to stretch a leg out, it hit a wall with an audible thud. Glass rattled above her.

She kicked the wall near her foot harder, to the same effect. Breath suddenly ragged at the realization there were walls in every direction, she kicked until she heard splintering wood. Low light flooded into whatever held her captive and more scents filled the rush of air.

A person? But not a human…but faint…their place but they aren’t home maybe?

Regardless, Lithium figured shape-shifting into her human disguise was safer than not, before she went inching out of the hole she made. She listened intently, her surroundings were too quiet for comfort.

But what choice do I have? Stay curled up where ever this is and turn into five feet of cramped muscle?

Her feet went out first. Sure, they were easy to grab but kicking was still an option. Part way out, she wished she had not chosen to wear the fancy bra that day instead of her usual sports bra for work.

I just had to have a bad self-esteem day and now I’m not sure I’m going to get out of here because boobs only compress so much in this double-cupped death trap that attempts to defy gravity…

She wiggled around until she was on her stomach, letting gravity deal with the compression she needed. A few more shimmies and she was out, facing a delicate window with little moonlight shining through it.

She whipped her head around, the faintest flicker of movement sending a chill down her spine. Had she been in her normal form, no doubt the fur on her back would be standing on end.

She turned toward the movement, slowly backing away from it. Goosebumps made their way down her arms as she stepped to put the thing she had crawled out of between her and whatever had been moving.

And backed right into the person behind her.

She jumped away and spun, now facing said person’s chest with arms crossed tightly across it. Her head jerked up and kept going for a bit until she found a face.

A face with one hell of an eyebrow game.  

He, as her nose told her that much, stared  back at her one eyebrow raised in the silent question of the moment. Dark hair fell into his face, tousled by sleep if she had to guess, considering he was standing in front of a partially unmade bed.

He held her gaze for a few moments too long, just the right amount to unnerve her. She held up her hands and took a step back, but any words she had were held back by the lump of fear in her throat.

Mercifully, he spoke first, in a steady soft tone that made him seem more dangerous than he was just staring her down. “Care to explain why you just crawled out of that crate of Midgardian alcohol?”

Lithium looked back at what she now knew was a crate and then back at this stranger whose bedroom she had apparently wandered into via her own brewery’s product packaging.

“I would care to, but I’m not entirely sure myself…I have a guess…but nothing for certain…”

“Guesses are acceptable, given the unusual circumstances.” His tone was no less molten, but the touch of curiosity softened the edge it carried.

Lithium looked back at the crate once more. “I am on the losing side of a hostile brewery take-over, it seems.”

“The papers said it was owned by some Whatshisname Kranston.”

Lithium ran a hand down her face. “Bart…that asshat, he really did it…dammit…”

The man tilted his head. “Am I to believe that you were the mentioned “bonus gift” that came with this Imperial Collection…thing?”

“Oh lord, he’s calling it that again?” She heaved a sigh and shook her head. “I’m not usually the bonus gift of what was supposed to be called the Galaxy Collection. I’m sure you can see I’m not branded drink ware for the different offerings in the collection.”

“Alcohol is not typically what one drinks from a woman.” His eyebrow raised again as she looked down at the floor in hopes he missed her blush at that veiled innuendo. “Galaxy is also a far superior name, given the name of the business.”

Lithium looked back up at him, her eyebrow now raised. “I appreciate that, but this conversation seems far too casual given I don’t know where I am or who you are but I just popped into your room out of a crate of product.”

“Would you rather I yell and demand answers you do not actually have?” He took one smooth step toward her. “Because if that’s your wish, I can oblige, though I would much rather not as the hour is late and the night guards tend to be less amicable than their daytime counterparts.”

She waved her hands and shook her head frantically. “Ah, no no this is fine, please continue as you were, I hate yelling.”

He took another step forward, the beginning of an arc around her. “Well then, I would like the name of the woman I watched get stuck half way out a wooden box for a truly entertaining though brief few minutes.”

“Lithium. Just Lithium.”

His circle narrowed as he went around her again. “Well, Just Lithium, I am afraid that intrepid crate of yours has landed you in the personal chambers of Loki, Prince of Asgard.”

He stopped to give her the most sarcastic shallow bow she had ever witnessed.  “The question, lady, is what do I do with you now that you’re here?”

Lithium made the mistake of meeting his gaze again and quickly looked back down at the floor.

I would land myself with some stranger with a deadly smirk…end me now…

“Well you could direct me to the nearest bathroom because the last thing I remember before waking up in a box was drinking my weight in coffee and it has run right through me.”

He straightened back up with an amused chuckle, gesturing to a door at the opposite end of the room. “It’s over there. When you’ve finished, we can discuss what else should be done with you, my little unintentional intruder.”

Lithium tried not to dwell on that ominous statement as she vaulted the crate to get to the bathroom as fast as she could.  She also tried to ignore the fact that she almost fell three times in her haste.

I am forever without a shred of dignity, I swear…

#loki #loki of asgard #loki of jotunheim #loki x lithium #canon x oc #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki fanfic #gravity well #lithium #lithium of midgard #OC #crate of alcohol #Imperial Package

[readbookywooks]

THE THREE SLEEPERS

THE wind never failed but it grew gentler every day till at length the waves were little more than ripples, and the ship glided on hour after hour almost as if they were sailing on a lake. And every night they saw that there rose in the east new constellations which no one had ever seen in Narnia and perhaps, as Lucy thought with a mixture of joy and fear, no living eye had seen at all. Those new stars were big and bright and the nights were warm. Most of them slept on deck and talked far into the night or hung over the ship's side watching the luminous dance of the foam thrown up by their bows. On an evening of startling beauty, when the sunset behind them was so crimson and purple and widely spread that the very sky itself seemed to have grown larger, they came in sight of land on their starboard bow. It came slowly nearer and the light behind them made it look as if the capes and headlands of this new country were all on fire. But presently they were sailing along its coast and its western cape now rose up astern of them, black against the red sky and sharp as if it was cut out of cardboard, and then they could see better what this country was like. It had no mountains but many gentle hills with slopes like pillows. An attractive smell came from it - what Lucy called "a dim, purple kind of smell", which Edmund said (and Rhince thought) was rot, but Caspian said, "I know what you mean." They sailed on a good way, past point after point, hoping to find a nice deep harbour, but had to content themselves in the end with a wide and shallow bay. Though it had seemed calm out at sea there was of course surf breaking on the sand and they could not bring the Dawn Treader as far in as they would have liked. They dropped anchor a good way from the beach and had a wet and tumbling landing in the boat. The Lord Rhoop remained on board the Dawn Treader. He wished to see no more islands. All the time that they remained in this country the sound of the long breakers was in their ears. Two men were left to guard the boat and Caspian led the others inland, but not far because it was too late for exploring and the light would soon go. But there was no need to go far to find an adventure. The level valley which lay at the head of the bay showed no road or track or other sign of habitation. Underfoot was tine springy turf dotted here and there with a low bushy growth which Edmund and Lucy took for heather. Eustace, who was really rather good at botany; said it wasn't, and he was probably right; but it was something of very much the same kind. When they had gone less than a bowshot from the shore, Drinian said, "Look! What's that?" and everyone stopped. "Are they great trees?" said Caspian. "Towers, l think," said Eustace. "It might be giants," said Edmund in a lower voice. "The way to find out is to go right iv among them," said Reepicheep, drawing his sword and pattering off ahead of everyone else. "I think it's a ruin," said Lucy when they had got a good deal nearer, and her guess was the best so far. What they now saw was a wide oblong space flagged with smooth stones and surrounded by grey pillars but unroofed. And from end to end of it ran a long table laid with a rich crimson cloth that came down nearly to the pavement. At either side of it were many chairs of stone richly carved and with silken cushions upon the seats. But on the table itself there was set out such a banquet as had never been seen, not even when Peter the High King kept his court at Cair Paravel. There were turkeys and geese and peacocks, there were boars' heads and sides of venison, there were pies shaped like ships under full sail or like dragons and elephants, there were ice puddings and bright lobsters and gleaming salmon, there were nuts and grapes, pineapples and peaches, pomegranates and melons and tomatoes. There were flagons of gold and silver and curiouslywrought glass; and the smell of the fruit and the wine blew towards them like a promise of all happiness. "I say!" said Lucy. They came nearer and nearer, all very quietly. "But where are the guests?" asked Eustace. "We can provide that, Sir," said Rhince. "Look!" said Edmund sharply. They were actually within the pillars now and standing on the pavement. Everyone looked where Edmund had pointed. The chairs were not all empty. At the head of the table and in the two places beside it there was something - or possibly three somethings. "What are those?" asked Lucy in a whisper. "It looks like three beavers sitting on the table." "Or a huge bird's nest," said Edmund. "It looks more like a haystack to me," said Caspian. Reepicheep ran forward, jumped on a chair and thence on to the table, and ran along it, threading his way as nimbly as a dancer between jewelled cups and pyramids of fruit and - ivory salt-cellars. He ran right up to the mysterious grey mass at the end: peered, touched, and then called out: "These will not fight, I think." Everyone now came close and saw that what sat in those three chairs was three men, though hard to recognize as men till you looked closely. Their hair, which was grey, had grown over their eyes till it almost concealed their, faces, and their beards had grown over the table, climbing pound and entwining plates and goblets as brambles; entwine a fence, until, all mixed in one great mat of hair, they flowed over the edge and down to the floor. And from their heads the hair hung over the backs of their chairs so that they were wholly hidden. In fact the three men were; nearly all hair. "Dead?" said Caspian. "I think not, Sire," said Reepicheep, lifting one of their hands out of its tangle of hair in his two paws. "This one is warm and his pulse beats." "This one, too, and this," said Drinian. "Why, they're only asleep," said Eustace. "It's been a long sleep, though," said Edmund, "to let their hair grow like this." "It must be an enchanted sleep," said Lucy. "I felt the moment we landed on this island that it was full of magic. Oh! do you think we have perhaps come here to break it?" "We can try," said Caspian, and began shaking the nearest of the three sleepers. For a moment everyone thought he was going to be successful, for the man breathed hard and muttered, "I'll go eastward no more. Out oars for Narnia." But he sank back almost at once into a yet deeper sleep than before: that is, his heavy head sagged a few inches lower towards the table and all efforts to rouse him again were useless. With the second it was much the same. "Weren't born to live like animals. Get to the east while you've a chance - lands behind the sun," and sank down. And the third only said, "Mustard, please," and slept hard. "Out oars for Narnia, eh?" said Drinian. "Yes," said Caspian, "you are right, Drinian. I think our quest is at an end. Let's look at their rings. Yes, these are their devices. This is the Lord Revilian. This is the Lord Argoz: and this, the Lord Mavramorn." "But we can't wake them," said Lucy. "What are we to do?" "Begging your Majesties' pardons all," said Rhince, "but why not fall to while you're discussing it? We don't see a dinner like this every day." "Not for your life!" said Caspian. "That's right, that's right," said several of the sailors. "Too much magic about here. The sooner we're back on board the better." "Depend upon it," said Reepicheep, "it was from eating this food that these three lords came by a seven years' sleep." "I wouldn't touch it to save my life," said Drinian. "The light's going uncommon quick," said Rynelf. "Back to ship, back to ship," muttered the men. "I really think," said Edmund, "they're right. We can decide what to do with the three sleepers tomorrow. We daren't eat the food and there's no point in staying here for the night. The whole place smells of magic - and danger." "I am entirely of King Edmund's opinion," said Reepicheep, "as far as concerns the ship's company in general. But I myself will sit at this table till sunrise." "Why on earth?" said Eustace. "Because," said the Mouse, "this is a very great adventure, and no danger seems to me so great as that of knowing when I get back to Narnia that I left a mystery behind me through fear." "I'll stay with you, Reep," said Edmund. "And I too," said Caspian. "And me," said Lucy. And then Eustace volunteered also. This was very brave of him because never having read of such things or even heard of them till he joined the Dawn Treader made it worse for him than for the others. "I beseech your Majesty - " began Drinian. "No, my Lord," said Caspian. "Your place is with the ship, and you have had a day's work while we five have idled." There was a lot of argument about this but in the end Caspian had his way. As the crew marched off to the shore in the gathering dusk none of the five watchers, except perhaps Reepicheep, could avoid a cold feeling in the stomach. They took some time choosing their seats at the perilous table. Probably everyone had the same reason but no one said it out loud. For it was really a rather nasty choice. One could hardly bear to sit all night next to those three terrible hairy objects which, if not dead, were certainly not alive in the ordinary sense. On the other hand, to sit at the far end, so that you would see them less and less as the night grew darker, and wouldn't know if they were moving, and perhaps wouldn't see them at all by about two o'clock no, it was not to be thought of. So they sauntered round and round the table saying, "What about here?" and "Or perhaps a bit further on," or, "Why not on this side?" till at last they settled down somewhere about the middle but nearer to the sleepers than to the other end. It was about ten by now and almost dark. Those strange new constellations burned in the east. Lucy would have liked it better if they had been the Leopard and the Ship and other old friends of the Narnian sky. They wrapped themselves in their sea cloaks and sat still and waited. At first there was some attempt at talk but it didn't come to much. And they sat and sat. And all the time they heard the waves breaking on the beach. After hours that seemed like ages there came a moment when they all knew they had been dozing a moment before but were all suddenly wide awake. The stars were all in quite different positions from those they had last noticed. The sky was very black except for the faintest possible greyness in the east. They were cold, though thirsty, and stiff. And none of them spoke because now at last something was happening. Before them, beyond the pillars, there was the slope of a low hill. And now a door opened in the hillside, and light appeared in the doorway, and a figure came out, and the door shut behind it. The figure carried a light, and this light was really all that they could see distinctly. It came slowly nearer and nearer till at last it stood right at the table opposite to them. Now they could see that it was a tall girl, dressed in a single long garment of clear blue which left her arms bare. She was bareheaded and her yellow hair hung down her back. And when they looked at her they thought they had never before known what beauty meant. The light which she had been carrying was a tall candle in a silver candlestick which she now set upon the table. If there had been any wind off the sea earlier in the night it must have died down by now, for the flame of the candle burned as straight and still as if it were in a room with the windows shut and the curtains drawn. Gold and silver on the table shone in its light. Lucy now noticed something lying lengthwise on the table which had escaped her attention before. It was a knife of stone, sharp as steel, a cruel-looking, ancient looking thing. No one had yet spoken a word. Then - Reepicheep first, and Caspian next - they all rose to their feet, because they felt that she was a great lady. "Travellers who have come from far to Aslan's table," said the girl. "Why do you not eat and drink?" "Madam," said Caspian, "we feared the food because we thought it had cast our friends into an enchanted sleep. "They have never tasted it," she said. "Please," said Lucy, "what happened to them?" "Seven years ago," said the girl, "they came here in a ship whose sails were rags and timbers ready to fall apart. There were a few others with them, sailors, and when they came to this table one said, `Here is the good place. Let us set sail and reef sail and row no longer but sit down and end our days in peace!' And the second said, `No, let us re-embark and sail for Narnia and the west; it may be that Miraz is dead.' But the third, who was a very masterful man, leaped up and said, `No, by heaven. We are men and Telmarines, not brutes. What should we do but seek adventure after adventure? We have not long to live in any event. Let us spend what is left in seeking the unpeopled world behind the sunrise.' And as they quarrelled he caught up the Knife of Stone which lies there on the table and would have fought with his comrades. But it is a thing not right for him to touch. And as his fingers closed upon the hilt, deep sleep fell upon all the three. And till the enchantment is undone they will never wake." "What is this Knife of Stone?" asked Eustace. "Do none of you know it?" said the girl. "I - I think," said Lucy, "I've seen something like it before. It was a knife like it that the White Witch used when she killed Aslan at the Stone Table long ago." "It was the same," said the girl, "and it was brought here to be kept in honour while the world lasts." Edmund, who had been looking more and more uncomfortable for the last few minutes, now spoke. "Look here," he said, "I hope I'm not a coward - about eating this food, I mean - and I'm sure I don't mean to be rude. But we have had a lot of queer adventures on this voyage of ours and things aren't always what they seem. When I look in your face I can't help believing all you say: but then that's just what might happen with a witch too. How are we to know you're a friend?" "You can't know," said the girl. "You can only believe or not." After a moment's pause Reepicheep's small voice was heard. "Sire," he said to Caspian, "of your courtesy fill my cup with wine from that flagon: it is too big for me to lift. I will drink to the lady." Caspian obeyed and the Mouse, standing on the table, held up a golden cup between its tiny paws and said, "Lady, I pledge you." Then it fell to on cold peacock, and in a short while everyone else followed its example. All were very hungry and the meal, if not quite what you wanted for a very early breakfast, was excellent as a very late supper. "Why is it called Aslan's table?" asked Lucy presently. "It is set here by his bidding," said the girl, "for those who come so far. Some call this island the World's End, for though you can sail further, this is the beginning of the end." "But how does the food keep?" asked the practical Eustace. ? "It is eaten, and renewed every day," said the girl. "This you will see." "And what are we to do about the Sleepers?" asked Caspian. "In the world from which my friends come" (here, he nodded at Eustace and the Pevensies) "they have a story of a prince or a king coming to a castle where all the people lay in an enchanted sleep. In that story he could not dissolve the enchantment until he had kissed the Princess." "But here," said the girl, "it is different. Here he cannot kiss the Princess till he has dissolved the enchantment." "Then," said Caspian, "in the name of Aslan, show me how to set about that work at once." "My father will teach you that," said the girl. "Your father!" said everyone. "Who is he? And where?" "Look," said the girl, turning round and pointing at the door in the hillside. They could see it more easily now, for while they had been talking the stars had grown fainter and great gaps of white light were appearing in the greyness of the eastern sky.

#DawnTreader