#(Also I plan to have Mark be among those coming to recruit her but you can bring whoever you want)

[pinerbureau]

Neutrino messaging

Whether this will go down in history alongside Alexander Graham Bell's first message, “Mr Watson, come here, I want to see you,” remains to be seen. Research that produced the world’s first message sent using tiny neutrino particles a project led in part by North Carolina State University engineers has been named among Physics World magazines top 10 breakthroughs for 2012. Because the Neutrino kernel messaging services copy a message directly from the address space of one thread to another without intermediate buffering, the message-delivery performance approaches the memory bandwidth of the underlying hardware. By modulating the pulses of protons the group was able to send a message in binary that, when translated, read “neutrino”. They are detected roughly 1km away by researchers who, in their day jobs, work on a neutrino collaboration called MINERvA. The neutrinos themselves are created by smashing bunches of protons into a target made of graphite. A pulse of neutrinos (small, elusive subatomic particles with no electric charge) corresponds to the digit “1” while no pulse corresponds to “0”. Naturally, their neutrinophone is digital. Born from violent astrophysical events like exploding stars and. To answer such naysayers a group of physicists at Fermilab have just submitted a paper to Modern Physics Letters A in which they describe how they have built themselves a neutrino-powered telephone. What is a NeutrinoAnd Why Do They Matter Neutrinos are teeny, tiny, nearly massless particles that travel at near lightspeeds. text messaging, commercial location and deployable wireless communications. But some people question its practical usefulness. Off-Board Navigation Service on QNX Neutrino Realtime Operating System. Eisenberg, meanwhile, contends with tummy trouble, for Vincent’s burrowing sets off rounds of doubtless symbolic intestinal distress.PARTICLE physics is all very well for addressing trivial matters like “why are we here?” (see article). Salma Hayek, as the ruthless CEO the pair aim to undercut, has her lustrous locks dipped in grey paint and offset with NHS specs. Skarsgård wasn’t alone in spending long hours in hair and makeup puzzling over this script. This is related to the question of how neutrinos can oscillate though the lepton flavors have differing masses (also examined in 'Neutrino Oscillations and Conservation of Momentum'). To this end, he has recruited his nervy coder cousin Anton, played – in the first of many bizarre choices here – by Alexander Skarsgård beneath a bald pate. Jesse Eisenberg plays Vincent, an ambitious day trader pumping his resources into digging a tunnel between Kansas and New York, a scheme designed to tap stock market data a millisecond faster, and thus turn him a sizeable profit. The portal can access those files and use them to remember the users data, such as their chosen settings (screen view, interface language, etc.), or their login data. It’s the kind of verbose corporate parable David Mamet would sit down to write after a heavy night on the sauce. strings of text saved by a browser on the users device. Because their messaging is so simple, and they make the purchasing. Today (via Emanuel Derman’s twitter feed), I learn of a promising new source of funding. Yet Canadian writer-director Kim Nguyen’s sketchy question mark of a film proves so left-field it risks seeming esoteric or – with its technical dialogue on the matter of “neutrino messaging” – openly baffling. Every second, about 30 trillion neutrinos pass through your brain without impacting. Recently US plans for the LBNE next-generation neutrino experiment have run into trouble finding room in projected HEP budgets. with a multi-messaging astronomy project that combines traditional astronomy with. P art of me wants to cut this enigmatic drama about fibre optic cable-laying some slack for trying to disprove the notion there are no longer any truly original concepts in North American cinema. A new study has found that neutrinos and high-energy cosmic rays.

#Neutrino messaging

[babyboydbaby]

Gandra Interstitial

“Despite the catastrophic destruction of Amity Labs last week-”

“Ugh, pass.”

Gandra closed the app on her phone with an annoyed sigh as she came to a stop in the alleyway where her supposed client was supposed to meet her. Which, you know, real reassuring in regards to their legitimacy and not at all suspect in any sense.

...Sarcasm, of course this was sketchy as hell.

But with FOWL getting their asses handed to them and her having to up and leave for St. Canard before she got tossed in the clink like the rest of the villains that Bradford HADN’T zapped out of existence, she didn’t have many good options.

Not that she ever really had any good options to begin with, given her line of work.

Which is probably how and why she found herself back in Duckburg after getting a call about a possible job offer. One she...admittedly really needed, and one with the promise of letting her do as she pleased in regards to her scientific endeavors.

So what else could she do but wait for this mysterious hirer of hers to arrive at a creepy, abandoned alleyway on the far side of town, with the occasional glance down at social media?

Although to be fair, social media wasn’t exactly fairing any better.

She had no idea what the fuck was going on in the next town over, but wherever she turned on social media, it involved either the destruction of some place called Amity Labs (’The Fall of Amity’ as they called it), or some revelation about that Ironwoof guy killing his dad for trafficking children.

Which, you know, was really starting to make her reconsider her initial thoughts on the guy. Sure, he was still kind of a stuck-up rich dude, but y’know...props to him there. The social media sharks could turn it however they wanted, that was the opposite of a bad thing.

#Closed Starter #Gandra Tbt #DTLS AU #Long Post #Child Trafficking Mention // #(You'd think I would've had a Gandra tag by now but alas) #(Also I hope a week is enough time for a timeskip) #(If not let me know and I can tweak it) #(Also I'm just going in with having Gandra be pretty out of the loop on things as a result of skipping town) #(Or at least her knowledge of the loop is social media based alone) #(And we all know how much social media can twist the facts) #(Also I plan to have Mark be among those coming to recruit her but you can bring whoever you want) #(Also) #Ducktales Spoilers // #(Small ones but y'know just in case) #(Also Gandra doesn't know much else about the Ironwoof situation outside of that; her opinion is just that of an outsider's) #(She's happy to experiment on herself but doing it on kids and not only that but kids someone else provided? BAD.) #(Which....might contradict a few things if she's still with FOWL after the reveal of the girls but like ehh) #(I'm still trying to figure out how to fit them in here so maybe at the moment they aren't a Thing)

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Between Lust and Love 2/?

Summary:  You are standing on a bridge enjoying the view; Someone’s watching you from a balcony. The moon adorns your window; You adorn someone else’s dream. (Fragments, Bian Zhilin)

Rated E for explicit description of Zhongli’s wet dream

A/N: implied semi-public 3some

Chapter 2: I Adorn Your Dreams

-

The gentle and almost reverent touch of your fingertips as it ghosted through the skin of his chest was enough for Zhongli to be drunk on. The usually kept and proper funeral parlor consultant was lounging atop of his soft bed, his outer coat was left lying on the floor, his vest unbuttoned along with his white shirt. You sat between his legs, crawling on top of him with a sultry look in your eyes.

The tent of his pants was noticeable, and Zhongli knew that he would not be able to remove the stain of his precum as your other hand lightly touched his groin, all the while smiling like a vixen as you placed kisses on his stomach slowly making your way up, each touch of your lip sent an electric shot down his spine, making his cock ache for you. And yet he made no move to hasten you, he waited for you to serve yourself to him, an arrogance well-deserved for a man—nay, a god like Zhongli.

The way the soft orange light of his room illuminated you brought out your sensual side, the kind of eroticism that only existed between lovers found in stories, the red color of your hanfu was enough to make Zhongli think that this was the bridal chamber, and you were his eager newly wedded wife. The redness of your plump lips as it hovered before his lips tempted him to grab a hold of you, pressing your groin against his as he captured your lips. And that was what Zhongli did, the sudden friction caused by his hard cock that was pressing itself against your wet groin made you moan.

Opening your mouth wide enough for Zhongli to slip his tongue in and devour you, like a parched dragon finding a sweet oasis after a drought. Your sweet moans as your body surrendered itself to him only drew to make him want you more. Your clothes were removed from your body as Zhongli’s large hands explored the smooth expanse of your skin, he paid a particular attention to your chest, groping it and teasing it in the exact same way he had seen Childe done. His mouth had moved itself from your mouth to your neck biting  and kissing as he listened to the melody of your moans.

The broken call for his name as one hand groped your chest and the other gently caressed your thighs, sliding it open to rub your wet pussy easier against his hard cock. Your slick had drenched his pants and Zhongli let out a soft grunt of pleasure as you began to move your hips on your own.

His tied up hair was left undone, making it fall to the side and frame his face as he laid you on the bed, gently kissing your lips and committing into memory the taste of your sweetness. 

“Zhongli…” Your sweet voice called him and he smiled, you were such a sight to behold.

Your flushed face, coupled with tears that gathered at the edges of your eyes made his heart burn, the rapid rise and fall of your chest from the lust only made his cock harden further.

“Shhhhh” He comforted you as he placed a gentle kiss between your breasts before leaving a mark. He stood up and freed his hard cock from its confines, delighting at the way you drooled at the sight of it.

“Please...put it in already…” You begged, the innocent begging coupled with your lewd action of spreading your legs further apart and using your own fingers to spread your own pussy brought a tantalizing erotic sight that spurred him on.

“Anything for you” Zhongli replied as he grabbed his dick and slowly entered your wet pussy.

You moaned and your body arched as you felt his tip slowly enter, and then all at once you were filled with his thick and long cock, your toes curled in pleasure as you felt him move slowly before finding the perfect rhythm that made your mind melt from the amount of pleasure he was giving you.

The soft moans you let out, with the occasional broken call of his name made Zhongli pleased. He fucked you like the whore that you were, hands leaving bruises on your thighs with each hard and fast thrust he gave to your squelching pussy. 

“Zhongli—I—!” You came from one of his particularly hard thrusts, your pussy squeezing his cock so good that Zhongli came inside you. Spilling his thick white seed inside your pretty and glistening cavern. His eyes were closed from the pleasure of fucking you, the feel of your cunt and the sound of his name as you moaned appeased his inhuman side.

Zhongli let himself rest for a few moments before opening his eyes, to an empty room, devoid of you and any evidence of the lascivious deeds you had done together with him. The soft morning chirps of the birds outside his bedroom window, and the sizable stain in front of his sleeping robe made him pensive.

Zhongli sighed, and closed his eyes before opening it again.

“How am I going to face them today?”

While Zhongli pondered on his own day, neither you nor Childe were doing nothing. You were doing commissions for both the Mondstadt and Liyue Adventurer’s Guild while Childe was collecting information to prove your claim of Zhongli’s inhumanity.

Though you both knew that the Adventurer’s Guild was a strict non-partisan guild that held no ties to any of the nations of Teyvat, Childe also knew that it was an open secret within the Adventurer’s Guild HeadQuarters that you took private commissions.

Commissions that were illegal in nature, ones that were almost no different from the ones the Northland Bank occasionally did. So it hadn’t surprised the new recruits that you were to lead them for the day, Childe made no secret of his ties with you, though both you and him kept your romantic entanglement under strict wraps, that the two of you knew each other from birth was not unknown to those who knew to ask.

Your strength and undeniable mastery of your Cryo vision also led to the awe of the new recruits that was lent to you. It made your job considerably easier, more so since you were collecting information on the events that took place in Mondstadt, the Honorary Knight and the Dragon.

You knew how the Fatui worked, there was no reason why La Signora and Scaramouche would linger in the vicinity of Liyue. The Tsaritsa made sure to never let her Harbingers gather in one place for too long. 

‘Signora should have left after taking the Gnosis, there’s no reason for her to stay here this long and in hiding unlike Scaramouche’ You thought as you coldly watched over the recruits practice in Sal Terrae, ‘Scaramouche has been stationed here to prepare for Inazuma...there’s no reason for the two to linger, not when the entire plan has been ironed out.’

“Good job, Men!” You praised them, facade easily taking over your serious face “Lord Tartaglia would be pleased to know this particular batch of recruits are talented.”

Your smile turned sweeter upon seeing their pleased and puppy-like enthusiasm, “I’ll be sure to tell him that you lot are worthy of a spar for him.”

“““Thank you, Lady Columbina!!!””” 

You hummed as you looked in the direction of the dawn winery, the cogs of your brain turning, ‘Unless there’s another plan...one that my darling Tartaglia was not made aware of…’

As you played with this thought, the more likely it seemed, “Well then, as good as your battle prowess is, the Fatui must also be discreet in its dealings…”

The recruits listened attentively, standing straight as you walked between their ranks, inspecting them with the cat-like glimmer in your eye. You were living up to your fame as an S-class adventurer, you continued as you stopped behind them, smiling in the direction of Mondstadt and its repurposed castle walls, “For your next training, infiltrate Mondstadt without alerting your fellow Fatui and the Lord Harbinger assigned to it.”

You paused at their silence, “Ah, hesitating? How smart” 

Their unease could be felt in the air, and you couldn’t fault them. You weren’t a Fatui, you were just someone who was strong enough to work exclusively with one of their harbingers. 

“Face to the left!Face!” You barked at them, and they did so, “Face to the left! Face!”

You smiled at them once they were facing you, and yet the recruits could tell that despite the smile on your face, you weren’t smiling at all. You invoked a certain fear and awe, one that reminded them of Her Majesty’s Ever Winter.

“Lord Tartaglia would be pleased to know that this bunch of recruits can think for themselves…” You dropped your smile and leveled them a cold look, “Don’t worry, this training was meticulously planned by our beloved Lord Harbinger, Tartaglia.”

It was a lie but no one needed to know that.

“You have three days to prepare for the training mission, once you’ve decided on how to infiltrate Mondstadt, report to Ekatrina of the Northland Bank. You’ll be given your funds and then be dispatched.”

You left them and began your trek back to Liyue, Mondstadt’s wind gently blowing through your hair. You felt your good mood coming back, 

‘Ah~Today would be a good day.’

There were a few things in his life that brought him great unease, for Childe one of them was being subjected to your displeasure, the other was being on the receiving end of Zhongli-xiansheng’s unfathomable stare. And right now he was experiencing both, Childe cursed himself for forgetting his schedule.

He knew of your suspicions towards Zhongli, and he also knew that you understood Zhongli was necessary to achieve the Tsaritsa’s goals. He was lucky in that regard, you knew how to draw a clear line between your professional and personal life. It was one of the reasons why he had pursued a relationship with you. Beyond the love and bond forged from the harsh winter of Snezhnaya, whether he was Tartaglia, Childe or Ajax, the one thing constant among his identities was his love for you.

Which was why he had always done his best to make you happy, ensuring that you would live a comfortable and carefree life. It was the least he could do for being the way he was.

“My dear—”

“Mr. Zhongli, I know how lovely my Childe is but there’s no reason for you to intrude on our date.”

“Actually I’m—”

“Yes, our Childe is certainly a lovely individual, however our lunch appointment had already been scheduled prior to your arrival.”

“Xiansheng, I’ll buy you whatever you—”

“Oh? You’ve booked my Childe for lunch for his entire stay here in Liyue?”

“That-Darling it isn’t set in stone so—”

“Yes, after all is he not the diplomat sent over by the Tsaritsa herself?” Zhongli smirked, it was an uncharacteristic sight for him. One Childe hardly ever saw unless the man had solved a particularly interesting puzzle or problem.

Childe glanced at you and saw the hard look in your eyes, bit by bit the cogs of his brain turning rapidly as he pieced together your revelation and the information he had gathered over the course of the morning. Slowly the fog was lifting and the bigger picture was slowly becoming clearer.

He didn’t really understand what was happening yet but Childe trusted you, even though the churning of his gut was unpleasant... he could and easily stowed the unpleasant feeling away.

“Xiansheng.”

Zhongli turned and found himself the recipient of Childe’s charming smile, one devoid of any honesty. It was his business smile, often directed to the bank’s clients or in one particular case the Liyue Qixing.

“We’ve known each other for a while now,” Childe began as his hand reached for his teacup, “You aren’t the type to push something unless it was important.”

Zhongli could feel the temperature in the air change, and privately thanked Childe’s foresight to book a private room. On the other side of the table, you sat with your back straight and deceptively relaxed as you poured Childe his tea.

“Yes” Zhongli admitted as he stared at the floating tea leaves on his cup of green tea, he lifted his head to stare straight in Childe’s blue eyes, “I would like to offer a contract between you, your lover, and me.”

Childe blinked, his eyes staring at the odd glow in Zhongli’s eyes, one oddly reminiscent of a beast. A warrior.

‘Adepti’ his mind whispered. 

Childe wasn’t aware but the slow lift of his mouth, curving into a smile carried no trace of humanity, it was a smile that reminded Zhongli of the height of the Archon Wars. It was a captivating smile that took Zhongli’s breath away.

‘Ah, I really want both of them right now.’

Once lunchtime was over, the streets of Liyue was ripe with new gossip. In particular, involving the esteemed gentleman of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the consultant Mr. Zhongli, the Childe of Northland Bank, and the S-Class Adventurer from Snezhnaya. 

The three had left Liuli Pavillion, you and Childe were flanking Zhongli, attached on either side of him in a suggestive way. That you had left both Childe and him with a kiss on the cheek only served to fuel the confusion. No one knew what had occured over the private room of Liuli Pavillion but the barely noticeable mark on Zhongli’s neck and the slightly disheveled look of your clothes and Childe’s knowing grin left much to imagination.

Previous || Next

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x childe #R-18

[honeyhenry]

Homeward Bound

A/N: This was NOT meant to be this long...but I was inspired and now we have this... dad!Syverson....you can thank me later :)

Warnings: army-related talk, labour, fluff (because i rue the day I actually write anything other than that)

After an honourable stint, Captain Syverson had finally finished up his active duty in the army, having chosen now to spend his life devoted and committed to you. While every second week he had to make a daily 45 minute commute up the road to train newbies needing a boot up their asses to prepare for the realities of war, Sy was able to come home to you just in time for dinner every evening. He got the best of both worlds, earning a solid pay with training up new recruits, and having the ability to make good on those promises he made you way back before he told you that the next tour would be his last.

He had kept his first promise within a month of him returning for good - giving you a shiny ring that he’d had the deposit down on for as long as he can remember. That was his most nerve-wracking promise to keep, even though you’d assured him no matter what, the answer would always be a “yes”. His second promise was also signed, sealed, and delivered within weeks of his return, most likely conceived in celebration of your engagement.

That promise had stuck with you a little more than the first; “Gonna put a baby in ya, peach. Can promise ya that I’m ready for wantin that with ya.”

Sy had arrived home in October, and there you were, round and ready to pop at the end of the following August.

During your labour on that warm summer’s day, he’d been gritting it out right beside you, clutching your hand and holding your half full cup of ice chips, using his best Captain voice in offering encouragement. Between contractions you had cried, screeched, and panicked. It had seemed Sy had given you the big baby he had been so certain of.

“Your baby’s too big Syv, it hurts so much...”

“Peach believe me, if I could I’d take all this pain for ya I would” he had comforted you, knowing by making eye contact that he meant every word. You had relaxed momentarily at the love you held for him, before the pain hit again leaving you crying and screaming once more.

And then Captain Syverson heard the words that he detests, typically uttered from his soldiers in the base camps or training rounds. 

“I can’t...”

It’s a cowards way of thinking, a poor outlook on life, and it makes the entire side weak because of one weak link. It angers him to no end, and he usually ends up heading off alone to clear his head. But not when it’s you

“I can’t do it, Sy...”

You’re the strongest person he knows, pushing out a brand new Syverson into the world with minimal medication and a steely determination for the past 14 hours. You’re no coward, and you’re by no means weak. He’s had men on his side who haven’t blinked in the face of adversity and terrorism, and yet here you were, stronger than the lot of them in every way.

“Yeah you can, peach. Ya think I’d put my baby in any ol’ fool? No it’s you, ‘cause you’re the strongest woman I know. C’mon now, let’s have us a baby.”

And then you did it, almost an hour later and she’s earth-side. As the sun had set on the last day of a sweltering August, it is as though the room cools to a warm breeze, the world stopping in its tracks as you birth your sweet baby Syverson, born in the first minutes of a new September. She’s all yours, and when the doctor announced above the primal, wild screams that “it’s a girl!” you’d looked to Sy, watching him as he cried. It was just a couple of tears, and he won’t admit that they happened, but it sure as hell doesn’t make him any less proud.

You’ve only been cooped up in the room for 24 hours, and while you and baby Syverson have been cared for and helped with the basics (along with you receiving a substantial amount of pain relief), Sy wanted you and his baby girl home so that he could be the one to take care of you both; plump your pillows, fetch you cups of tea, burp the baby, dote on her endlessly. All within the quiet, cosy home you’d made together over the past years and months. Pictures lined the walls, featuring happy memories including your courthouse wedding that had been planned and occurred within a week of knowing about baby Sy. Your big gruff man just couldn’t take not having you as his wife, especially when you were carrying his child.

There’d also been a picture of the sonogram taped to the fridge in your quaint little kitchen, courtesy of Sy wanting to see the baby each morning before heading to work, or while he cooked you a warm breakfast. It’s as though he didn't keep updated pictures in his wallet and in his truck, right next to a beautiful picture of you. From your first sonogram with “SYVERSON” printed at the top, Sy loved to see his growing family, and always taped the newest scan picture right on top, using the same piece of tape he’d just found laying around one afternoon. Now, after plenty of pictures taken on his phone, he was going to update the fridge once more to feature a picture of the little pink squish with big bug eyes and a smattering of dusty brown hair. Maybe he’ll add some new tape, too.

Now three Syversons would live in this home, where old caps, worn from war and still grimy after a couple of washes, lay around the house, and where a still somewhat-tinged green Aika would roam freely - except on the bed. Sy was adamant that Aika never jumped or slept on the marital bed. That was his place, with his woman. The wooden interior and cosy fireplace that Sy himself had built, made it an even more homely and special place for you both to live. The perfect place out in the country to raise your girl. 45 minutes from Sy’s work, 15 to the local school. It was a dream, and now it had come true, as you watch him lift your princess into the baby carrier, fastening her in and watching her little pouty face as he removes his large, warm hands that you know she must adore being held by already.

He’s so glad that he can now take you both home. He insists on carrying both the baby carrier and the hospital bag from the past few days as you both leave the room where your girl entered the world, now entering the real world and all the opportunities she would have out there to explore. Since you don’t have to lift a thing, you just get to watch the sweet view of the “scary” Captain Sy check things off mentally to make sure you've brought everything.

“As long as we bring the baby home, I think we’ll be okay” you grin, and he blinks out of his organised, battle-ready mindset for a moment, remembering that this wasn’t some covert operation. This was a big deal, but one that is exciting and new and as Sy turns to look at his daughter again, it seems he’s already forgotten how tiny she is. She’s wrapped up, but Sy insists that he wraps the carrier with his flannel top, protecting the baby from both the sun, and any chill that pierces the air. He can’t resist a final little peek into the baby carrier as you sign the final documents to discharge you both from the hospital. You even hear him talk to your sweet girl, having one of their first little talks together.

“i’ll show ya a real home, just wait. Nun’a this bright light and doctors nonsense. Got a crib with your name on it ya can be all cosy in. Built it myself while Momma watched. You are gonna be so loved up with her, she is everything sweet in the world. Just like you princess.”

“I thought i was your princess?” you interrupt him and...is that a blush you see mark his cheeks? If only his men knew the state you could get the great Captain Syverson into, and most likely that your baby girl will be able to as well.

“You’ve been promoted peach, after all that giving birth to her, you’re a queen among peasants. I got two number 1 gals now. Gotta be ya knight in shinin’ armour.”

All the war torn memories, the killing, and the violence from his past, doesn’t mean a thing. It baffles him to this day - he still doesn't know how he’s ended up with two slices of heaven in you and your baby girl, but he’s selfish and he’s keeping you all for himself.

“You can be a Captain to your men but you’re our King, Sy. I know you’ll always protect us, and she’ll grow up knowing that too. Now come on. Let’s get her out of here. Lead the way Daddy?” you grin, watching as he proudly marches through the doors of the ward with a tight grip on the baby carrier, while the bag is slung over his shoulder.

The rest of his life with you and baby Syverson, just waiting on the other side.

taglist: @seriouslygoodlookinggents @ohmygoodie 

#henry cavill x reader #captain syverson x reader #captain sy x reader #syverson x reader #dad!syverson #dad!sy #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters

[miss-choco-chips]

Twisted Soulmate shorts.

Listen, I do plan on making a sequel eventually, but in the meantime, can I tempt you with some half assed bits of Tim’s life as Ra’s Bonded/Bride/Unwilling Sugar baby? All in the spirit of putting off studying for my finals :D

~.~

“We need some ground rules”, Tim stated plainly, staring at the fiery hell in front of them. By his side, Ra’s sipped his wine glass, as cozy in front of all the destruction as one would standing by a fireplace. He looked ready to break out the s'mores. “Some Do’s and Do not’s, with penalties for each one we break. So, you know. We don’t completely destroy each other.”

“Be honest with me, Beloved, would that actually stop you from infringing damage to my properties?”

In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Tim actually thought about it for a few minutes.

~.~

Or; Tim elopes with Ra’s and commits to his role as the world’s most unimpressed, reluctant bride ‘soulmate’. Featuring Pru (who is having entirely too much fun), four little minions (whoever catches the reference and knows which fandom I stole them from gets brownie points) and absolutely no sign of any bats to spoil Tim’s fun.

~.~

~.~

The robe was green, and that was a problem. It wasn’t itchy, it wasn’t uncomfortable, it wasn’t restrictive.

But it was green.

Pru’s eyes found his in the mirror, a scowl and a smirk facing each other. Tim crossed his arms, the exquisite silk not even creasing, and his frown deepened. One of the robe’s sleeves covered him from shoulder to wrist, the other leaving the opposite limb completely bare. The intent was obvious enough, one mark on display, the others hidden away like dirty secrets. 

So why the need for that branding color? 

“Isn’t this excessive? Putting a collar on me may be easier, for his purpose.”

“Should I forward that idea to the Master?”

“Only if you want another punch to the nose.”

A snort, and Pru took the two steps keeping her at his back. Her hand dropped to his shoulder, and the expression on the assassin’s face changed to a far more serious one.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I could help you out of the base. Still owe you a few, we can call this one even for that time in Budapest.”

Tim’s scowl went away, a contemplative look on his eyes as they lowered to the ground.

“I’m not sure of anything nowadays, Pru. Except perhaps that I don’t want to wear this color.”

Her grip tightened for a second, two, three. Then, her eyes flew to the window and back to him before her next words came out, fake smirk back on place.

“Well then, the Master expects you to join him for breakfast. We’ll be moving bases soon, and I think he wanted to give you the tour before that.”

Tim’s eyes, that had followed hers to the window, stayed there, guarded and cold like they never were. He nodded.

“I’ll be there shortly. Just need to… fix my appearance a bit.”

She nodded, her smirk more sincere now, and left his bedchambers. 

The shadows jumped into the room before the door was even halfway closed.

A little over half an hour later, Ra’s Al Ghul looked up from the reports he was revising, cup of tea still untouched on the table, pastries and fruits perfectly distributed in front of him, to watch the Detective approach.

His robe was a curious maroon.

As if sensing his question, the young man took his place across from the Demon’s head, placid smile softening his features despite ice cold eyes boring into his.

“Oh, this?”, demurely, he raised the covered arm, accepting the coffee one of his servants provided. The sleeve slipped down enough to show three names on white skin, but Ra’s eyes strayed to the clothe. He knew that shade of brownish.

“I could have sworn I sent you green robes, Detective. I do wonder, where did you find a dye?”

“As I’m sure Pru can tell you, noses bleed a lot. On the bright side, you don’t have to worry about sending a clean up crew to tidy up my bedchambers. Nice morning workout, too, thank you.”

Amused despite himself, Ra’s threw his head back and laughed.

----.---

“We need some ground rules”, Tim stated plainly, staring at the fiery hell in front of them. By his side, Ra’s sipped his wine glass, as cozy in front of all the destruction as one would standing by a fireplace. He looked ready to break out the s'mores. “Some Do’s and Do not’s, with penalties for each one we break. So, you know. We don’t completely destroy each other.”

“Be honest with me, Beloved, would that actually stop you from infringing damage to my properties?”

In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Tim actually thought about it for a few minutes. “I mean, as long as you respect my boundaries, I won’t have a reason to show my displeasure.”

“And what about my boundaries? It’s only reasonable that for each rule you decide on, I get to demand one of my own making.”

“If they don’t conflict with mine, I guess I could learn to work around them. Considering what you do for a living, it’s not like you can ask for more.”

Ra’s tilted his head, as if saying ‘yeah, fair’. They watched the flames consuming one of Ra’s favored castles in silence for a while longer. The parisian authorities would be arriving soon, though no before they were ready to leave; Ra’s wouldn’t allow any interruptions. 

They were probably making the ninja standing guard behind them uncomfortable, with the silence, veiled threats and mind games. Except for Pru. She’d be thriving in her fellows’ fear. 

“Should we go somewhere more private to decide this rules, Timothy?”

A shake, long raven locks hitting the air like small whips, and the young hero turned on his heel to go back to the plane waiting for them.

“I need some time to think them over. I’ll let you know when I decide.”

---.---

Is the Demon’s Head, instead, who demands the first one.

“You will allow a squad of my people around you at all times, Detective, and you’ll let them tend to you as it’s becoming of my bride.”

“If you ever call me your bride again”, states the young man, calmly turning a page on the book he was reading, curled up in the armchair Ra’s had specifically made his men drag into his office for the sole purpose of tempting him into staying put and in Ra’s direct line of sight, “the next base I make go boom will be the one you’re in at that moment.”

“My soulmate.”

“Still creepy, but significantly less; I’ll accept it. What were you saying about bodyguards? The answer is no, by the way, but I thought it would be fair to let you explain your reasoning before shooting you down again.”

“I have no need for explaining myself; you were the one to suggest rules. This is merely the first one. As it is, and since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you that, as my bonded, you have a price in your head so high even the purest of heart man would be tempted to hunt you down. It’s merely for your safety, as I worry so.”

The dirty look the younger gives him over his book shows him exactly what he thinks of Ra’s obvious jab at his abilities and strength.

“There’s also the matter of your lack of sleep, or the blatant underweight you’re showing.”

“I don’t need a nanny nor a bodyguard, Ra’s.”

“Maybe so, but what would my enemies think of my power if I couldn’t spare a few men to protect my bonded? You can think of it as a political tactic, if it’ll lay your worries at rest. It won’t be to spy on you, as I already have a team dedicated to that.”

Not even a blink, of course he knew, he’d be an idiot to think Ra’s was giving him wiggle room without someone hounding his steps. A hum, the flicker of something behind the man’s eyes that put Ra’s instantly on guard, but not enough to help him predict his next movement.

“You know that any rule you make, I can counter with one of my own.”

“I do, and am ready to honor, as it’s the nature of our deal. I’m a man of my word.”

“Okay then”, the detective finally conceded, sitting up straight, book closed on his lap and hands resting easily over the cover. “I’ll accept your terms, and won’t give my future clique the slip.”

Despite this small victory, Ra’s didn’t allow himself to relax; now came the detective’s countermeasure.

Calmly as still water, the slim man stood up, walking towards Ra’s desk, opening the book on its first page and softly placing in on the wood between them. One slice of paper, carefully folded, gave the Demon’s Head pause.

“Since you insist this is for show, and thus not requiring specific skills on the ninja’s part, I’m going to choose who will be part of my clique. After all, I’ll be in perpetual close quarters with these people, it’s only fair I get to decide who it’ll be.”

Ra’s eyes never left the icy blue ones staring him down. It’d be a fatal mistake to let one’s sight wander when there was a viper in the room.

“Prudence is already tasked with managing your schedule, she can’t be considered among these you selected.”

“She isn’t”, was fired back. “These aren’t fully fledged ninja, they have just begun their training. As such, I can make sure their progress aligns with my needs, something that will make them more useful in the long run if they are to be my shadows. A sniper that can socially blend in as a perfect camaleon. A prodigy, both in mind games and the technological world. A mechanic well versed in a caregiver tasks. A naturally born fighter, showed proficiency particularly on swords and hand to hand. I think those four tick every box you might want to fill, don’t you?”

A few seconds pass, while Ra’s tries to think back on every newish recruit who had the described qualities. He couldn’t come with a single one. Too many variables.

Despite himself, he nods. His bonded lifts his hand from the desk, and picks up his book on his way to the door, not looking back while Ra's unfolds the list.

He feels himself freeze. 

“Children?”

Timothy has already left the room. Ra's can't help but feel pride. As foolish as he thinks his bonded's mission to be, he has to admire his dedication to it, and Timothy had just spent the equivalent of a Genie's first wish with the purpose of freeing four young ones from the League's training and future.

-----.-----

Tim is looking down at his three 'bodyguards', knowing he made the right call but still feeling the panic creeping up on him. Like, fuck, this was clearly an evil organization, as no self respecting moral one would allow him to be responsible of four impressionable, probably traumatized children.

L, P, H and K. 9, 7, 10 and 9 respectively. All sitting down, hands on their laps, eyes down. Ready to obey any order.

Fuck, he wanted to puke.

Breathing in deeply, he crouched in front of them. Tried for a smile. Too forced. Settled for a grimace.

“My name is Tim”, he started, “and you're safe with me. I'll train you, protect you from the League as much as possible, and try my best to help you escape if I find a better place for you.”

He doesn't bother lying for appearances sake. Ra's must know Tim's reasons for choosing children (too good, would be noticed soon by their teachers, would be under Ra's thumb sooner rather than later), but it didn't matter. Even if Tim managed to get them away, it was his right. For all intents and purposes, as far as the League was concerned, he owned them. Not that he was going to tell them that: if it made him sick to think that, he can only imagine that information on the children's minds. 

They don't seem to believe him, but answer honestly when asked questions about their past. L had (bravely, stupidly) sold himself into servitude to the League to help his family. P, apparently a smart cookie, was sold away by some scientific organization back home when she started asking too many question about the disappearance of her father and brother. One of H's mothers had left the League when she married, and her son was taken away as compensation in the middle of the night, when she couldn't fight back (luckily, as she'd have died and they would have still taken the kid). K was an orphan, sucked into the League too young, but saved by an older apprentice who took him under his wing: said boy was now missing, and K's obvious short fuse wouldn't stand for it long.

He wants to save these children so bad it hurts. Has to remind himself that whatever he will do about this (and he still has to think about it), he won't be able to do for a while.

----.----

He keeps some sort of schedule. Waking up in the morning, breakfast with Ra's unless previously canceled by the other man, training his new minions, break a fight between L and K, lunch, give them numerous tasks to get them off his back (keeping one close for appearances sake; they were his bodyguards after all, or would be after some training), wander along whichever base they were at the moment, tea with Ra's, picking up his brats, wander some more and some time for them to play like actual children, dinner, bed. Rinse repeat.

Some variations, however, were inevitable.

Groaning Tim rolled on his back, silken sheets under him and around his legs, to look at the four little heads waiting by his bedside, various degrees of alarm there.

“What is it?”

H's hand gripped tighter L's, who had the other arm wrapped around P. K was standing in front of them, dagger at the ready.

“The base is under attack. We await our instructions, Master.”

“Tim”, he reminded the child, before yawning.  “Who is it again?”

This time, the youngest and only girl talked. “We are not sure. Said something about The Demon's Head being their archenemy and/”

“Then it's a Ra's problem, not a Us problem. Let the man handle it, he has enough manpower as it is, and even if he doesn’t, he's due for a swim anytime now”, dropping his head and closing his eyes once again, he vaguely waved a hand in their general direction. “You guys go back to bed, just be careful and lock the door in case some of Ra's worst people let someone wander.”

“We can't possibly leave you! What if you're attacked? We'd be too far away to protect you!” K’s tiny hand tightened around his knife. “We'd fail our mission!”

Reigning in a groan, he gave it a thought. They had a point, in that were anything to happen, he risked not being close enough to keep the children safe. 

Sighing, he waved a hand again.

“Okay, you guys can stay, but we are not getting up. It's like five am, I went to sleep less than an hour ago.”

 P jumped in place and frowned at him. “We escorted you here right after dinner.”

“That you did. Anyway, cuddle piles anyone?”

L jumped right in, as he expected, worming his way under the sheets until he could cuddle to Tim's left side, dragging H behind him. P seemed to think about it, but if the dark circles under her eyes (and his informants) were to be trusted, she'd probably slept as much as him, most assuredly looking into her family's disappearance. She finally fell on his other side, instantly groaning.

K looked at all of them in disappointment, and stubbornly sat down behind P, his back to them and facing the door. Tim wondered what it would take to get the kid to chill.

Shrugging (you can't win them all), he went back to sleep.

By the time he really woke up, it was to an amused Pru holding hauntingly a camera and smirking down at him. All four kids were now cuddled around him.

“Shut up, Pru. Like you can talk. I saw you giving L that practice gun the other day, don't think I didn't.”

#twisted soulmate #soulmate au #nemesis au #Tim drake #Ra's al Ghul #Pru #four small minions Tim's gonna steal from Ra's #those are a reference to another fandom I love #brownie points to whoever notices the reference #spy vs spy kinda thing #Tim drake is an unwilling sugar baby #Ra's is all too happy to play sugar daddy for this kid #Ra's is creepy #my writting #my writing #Red robin

[littlemisswriter]

Saving London - Part 1

Summary:

What if the Frye twins never grew up to be assassins, yet to be working men and women in the city of London along with the others? What if Lily had been the only assassin to respond to Henry Green's plead for help? And what if she recruits the twins to work alongside her to stop the oppression and fight against Templars?

[Here is my promised written imagine, there will be more parts soon so don’t worry! Let me know if you like it; I am trying new concepts around the Syndicate storyline, types of AU’s that I don’t see much in this fandom, let alone this game specifically! So hope you all enjoy :)]

-

Society had been they way it had always been for the last hundred years. A biased dictatorship working in favour of their own gain and allowing those under them to indulge in nothing but their scraps. The world was a large place, with London in the very centre.

The blue skies above were being met with black hazes from the factories below, and those situated in those said factories were not faring any better. Day in, day out were workers worn to the bone. Hands calloused and dirty from maintaining the machines that built the technologies around them. Men spent most time away from home, doing their best to support families in spite of their decreasing health. Though it had not only been men that were subjected to this environment, but women and children as well.

Morally it had been frowned upon to have such a vast amount of workers, but business wise… those who held power could get away with whatever they wanted. Well, had been able to get away with what they wanted. Times were changing, people were oppressed, and a certain underground gang had taken it upon themselves to answer London’s calls.

Outside the factory walls in Southwark, the sun had begun to descend behind the horizon; the chilly night air settling in for those still out and about on the streets. But for those in the factory, the temperature had been nothing less of humid and uncomfortable. Those workers that kept away with their tasks had been there for hours, body’s aching and spirits broken, yet still desperate to cling onto what little pay they could get.

Among those had been a particular young man, muscles built deeply by his youthful ability to complete his tasks and those around in need of help. He had built up a sweat, resulting in the first few buttons of his shirt being undone to provide some form of air to his skin. His hair had been hard to maintain on its own, strands consistent to fall upon his forehead and block his view irritatingly, so he simply kept it slick back with the help of his newsboy cap. “Oi Jacob!”

The call of his name had distracted him momentarily, hands gripping around the broom as he watched an older worker approach him cautiously. His eyebrow raised.

“What is it, Tommy?” Taking a proper stand with a lean on his elbow and hand to his waist, he stood waiting for the chap to spit out whatever sat on his tongue. Tommy pointed behind him and Jacob’s gaze followed.

“Little Charlie seems tired, he does. Poor lad can’t barely keep his eyes open.” The mention of the young boy had Jacob’s brows furrow in concern, their eyes landing to watch the child struggle to pick up a basket from the corner. Tommy had not spoken a tale, the boy’s legs weak as he struggled to carry his own weight, and face red from exhaustion of working more than half the day. “Do you think you could ‘elp? I know it’s a bother to ask-”

He was interrupted by a raise of Jacob’s hand and a quick reassuringly smile. “No bother.” The older man sighed in relief, hands rubbing together stressfully as the lines on his face etched a smile to replicate.

“Thank you. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” The thought given a moment to linger at the consequences of those if Jacob were not there to aid them. It was chilling, and most unwelcome.

The broom was leant on the wall he found it, forgotten as Jacob made way quickly over to help the young boy. His pace was quick, but not quick enough as Charlie’s knees gave out and he slipped down to the floor. Jacob’s eyes widened as he came by him, hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Charlie?” The young boy could only nod and wipe his elbow out from under his nose, as if to hold back tears.

“I’m just tired, sir.” As would be expected.

“Jacob,” he corrected, not fond of the title from a boy he knew relatively well, “and don’t worry. Go take a rest out of sight, and I’ll take care of this.” Charlie’s eyes glimmered in relief, offering only an eager nod. But before either could move, they had been called. And not kindly in the slightest.

“You two!” A pair of Blighters had caught the workers dawdling, meaning now a confrontation was imminent. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Impulsively, Jacob stood with furrowed brows, his arm outstretched to the boy behind him as he acted as a barrier.

“I made the mistake, not the boy. I was about to rectify-”

“Stop your babbling, boy!” Jacob was shoved back, his footing catching his fall easily as he narrowed his eyes up to the guards. “What I see is two slackers! And you know what happens to slackers?” The brute standing behind the accuser had grinned evilly, knuckles cracking as he came forward. Slight panic rose through Jacob as he once again placed himself between Charlie and danger.

“I’ll take punishment, whatever it is. Just let the boy go.” A mere cackle came his response as the two made ground towards them.

“Boss told us to give a thrashing to those sitting idle.” As he would, seeing as that man had been the least compassionate foreman Jacob had ever come across. His only concern was himself and everything that he reflected. Ministered beatings had not been uncommon here, yet nobody seemed to adjust to the mistreatment or became brave enough to stop them.

The scene had many eyes turn, some stopping to witness the horror of the Blighters. Though nobody moved. Most had uttered a few courageous words before, but nothing drastic to make a change. They all knew their place, as uncomfortable as the reality of it was. And the truth was, if you wanted to eat, you did as you were told and took what was given to you.

Jacob stepped back a few paces, keeping Charlie hidden well behind him as he did his best to appear brave. If anybody had a shot at countering hits and supplying their own, it was Jacob. But that had not meant it was going to be any less brutal.

They came closer, almost cornering the man as the boy did nothing but whimper behind him; all in all, they had felt helpless. But yet… it appeared fate had other plans.

“I’m gonna hit you so hard, I’ll-”

A commotion could suddenly be heard from higher up, stilling the Blighters as they bore witness to yells and thumps at the top of the factory. It had not sounded too promising, especially when no one knew whose yells they belonged to and why they were suddenly prominent. Then, a body came tumbling down to the bottom floor, everyone gasping in horror as it lay limp and lifeless for everyone to see.

Jacob blinked back profusely, glancing back to Charlie before allowing himself to recognize exactly who lay dead before him.

The foreman. His throat continuously bleeding out as well as two stab marks to his chest. A sight that most may and did feel faint from. And so, panic ensured as the workers let down their tasks easily and made way for escape. Charlie had been one to catch himself in the mass of the crowd, yet Jacob’s feet were planted firmly to the ground. It was a horrible sight, yes, but he was also oddly intrigued as to what was going on.

“Oh shit!” The brute muttering, looking over to his partner before hesitantly making way to the body. Though he did not get far when a figure had abruptly dropped done next to the man. They had been covered head to toe in robes, their identity concealed with a hood though a belt masked with weapons had been on display for all to see.

A lump caught in Jacob’s throat as he and the few others that still remained quickly pieced together that whoever was under those robes had been the culprit to the foreman’s death. And rightly so, ruminating on the behaviour that led the man to his own demise.

“Who the hell are you? What have you done?” The figure stood straight, turning to face what appeared to be the last remaining Blighters in the factory. It was quiet, too quiet, and that had sent up an unnerving chill through their spines.

“Now, that is not a polite way to speak, is it?” The voice was female, a surprising notion in on itself. But yet it had been cocky, the calm demeanour of someone having just murdered another was terrifying. And her dry laugh that followed after had both Blighters step back in hesitance. “This man is dead,” she pointed to the body, allowing Jacob to capture a look at a glistening blade attached to her forearm. He swallowed back harshly.

“You’re the dead man!” The shorter Blighter had been snapped back into anger as the stranger merely found humour in his boss’s death. He yanked a blade from his pocket and charged at the woman, all bodies tensing as they waited for the clash. Though she had easily ducked his swing, her speed impeccable as she twisted the same arm intended for harm back behind his back. A crack had been heard, the Blighter yelling in agony as she took his own blade and ended him with it.

No sweat was broken, neither had her spirit. As if she was simply strolling through a park with infinite time on her hands. The brute had been next, fighting back resistance as he too took charge. His hits were hard, the man built on nothing but sheer muscle and height. Which left his weak spot open, something she took great advantage of.

A slip between his legs and a kick to the back of his leg brought him to his knees. He swung against vigorously, though his attempts had been in vain as she used her height advantage to slide the very same blade on her wrist down into his neck.

Blood came and sept through as he lay limp in it, all threatening seeming to disappear as now stood the workers and the dangerous stranger. She looked around, taking a moment to ensure that the factory had been completely wiped out of all Blighters before echoing a large whistle. It was a call, and soon enough, as if waiting for the signal, a handful of Rooks had stepped into the building and immediately made claim.

“What in the…” Jacob could not fathom what was happening, or how it had actually been done. Who was the stranger? Why go to all the trouble for a factory in Southwark? Why had he been more intrigued than fearful of it all?

“My fellow companions!” The stranger began, finding refuge on a crate as she stood centre of attention to all those around. “I know you may be confused, and even frightened, but fear not! We are not here to hurt you or any others that do not belong to the Blighter gang!” Precuring the safety and wellbeing of those who had feared had them relax, but not entirely. Their bodies still tense and hesitant as they gathered around.

Jacob had been one to come closer, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in the small surrounding crowd. His brows furrowed as he kept all attention to the stranger.

She looked around her, nodding to her Rooks before gently pulling her hood back. It was if his heart had stopped as he first lay eyes on the woman. She had been beautiful, no doubt about it. Yet she was foreign, dressed to what society would deem inappropriate for women. She was cocky and dangerous, a small grin still etched to the corner of her mouth as she spoke to those openly around her. “My name is Lily Harvard, and these here are my Rooks!” Arms out wide as she gestured to the green coated gang surrounding. “I am here to make you all an offer. To help us take down the Blighters in all boroughs and liberate London back to its people!”

An honourable quest yet a large ask. She had taken employment from those under an authority that much less cared about the health and wellbeing of its workers. But did not come empty handed.

“Join me! Join the Rooks!” Some had already taken to the idea, a few more Rooks entering with spare jackets to pass to those that were eager to be invested in something, and others that did not want to be left stranded. “You do not have to do anything you do not wish, but bear in mind that you will be apart of something larger than yourselves! Help us destroys Crawford Starrick’s hold on this city, and we in turn will welcome you like family!”

The coaxing appeared to deter a few, those leaving subtly out of the eye of others though most stayed, agreeing to the terms and enlightened to be better looked after in this new emerging gang. Jacob had not peeped a word, his eyes still drawn to Lily as she looked happily to those around her. A nudge had suddenly caught his attention and a woman holding a green jacket extended it out to him. “You in, sunshine?”

Jacob took a moment, looking from the jacket to the Rook, to Lily, and back to the jacket. Well… it could not possibly be worse than working in this factory with little to no regard. Plus… redemption for him and those around him did sound quiet appealing.

“Why not?” The Rook offered him a toothy grin and chucked the jacket in his hands. The man grasping to the material before ridding his own jacket and replacing it.

It was the start of something better, and he couldn’t wait to tell Evie.

#assassins creed #jacob frye #fandom #assassins creed syndicate #assassin creed syndicate #evie frye #assassin's creed syndicate #frye twins #older jacob frye #ac syndicate #Jacob Frye gif #au #storyline #imagine

[searchingwardrobes]

Not the Type - 6/8

Finally! A new update :) Sorry for the delay, but the muse has been fickle as of late. In this chapter, Emma has her first competition of the season, and it's psyching her out. Will Killian be her encouragement, or will she push him away in the midst of it all? This chapter includes another iconic scene from the movie, when Torrance dances around her room to Cliff's song. I wanted to use the actual lyrics to the song, but in looking at it, there were a few lines that bothered me. One literally says "I'd bring you flowers every day just to roll you in the hay." And then there's a constant refrain that says "I'll make you mine." Those lines just don't seem to jive for me with Killian's character when in canon he specifically tells David that he doesn't see Emma as loot and tells Emma that he will win her heart, but not through any trickery. We know he isn't the kind of guy to give a woman flowers in order to manipulate her into sleeping with him. We also know how much agency means to him, so I didn't think telling Emma in song "I'll make you mine" fit either. Anyways, that's a long way of explaining that the lyrics are 99% like the ones in the movie, minus those two parts.

Massive thanks to my beta, @hookedonapirate who takes my confusing sentences and makes them sound purty ;) You’re the best! And thanks also to the @captainswanmoviemarathon​ for putting together this event and being massively supportive and patient. 

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rated: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @kmomof4  @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xhookswenchx @teamhook @let-it-raines @winterbythesea @spartanguard @shireness-says @superchocovian @thesschesthair @resident-of-storybrooke @vvbooklady1256 @hookedonapirate @ultraluckycatnd @hollyethecurious @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @bethacaciakay @optomisticgirl @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @ekr032-blog-blog @itsfabianadocarmo @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @xsajx @jennjenn615 @zaharadessert @stahlop @scientificapricot @thislassishooked @kday426 @ultraluckycatnd @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @lassluna​

The room was thick with hair spray, and Emma and the rest of the Storybrooke Knights Cheerleaders were sucking on orange slices. Except for Ruby who was touching up her blood red lipstick in front of one of the mirrors propped up on the classroom’s smart board. 

“I think they’re red enough already, Ruby,” Coach Ava remarked as she sprayed more Aquanet all over her daughter’s hair. MM was having to wear a hair extension so she didn’t look out of place with their “hair” theme, and Coach was paranoid it was going to go flying across the gym floor during their routine. Emma wasn’t sure hairspray worked that way, but she wasn’t about to say so. 

Ruby smacked her lips together with a loud pop. “The redder the better, I say. I want them to see my smile.”

She turned to the rest of the group and flashed a toothy grin. They all laughed, and Belle grimaced. 

“More like a predator about to devour her prey.”

Ruby winked at Belle and growled, resulting in more laughter. Coach Ava rolled her eyes as she capped the hairspray. “Just don’t get it all over your teeth, okay Lucas?”

“No worries, Coach, it’s that long-lasting stuff that isn’t supposed to come off.”

“So why did you need fifty coats?” Tiana quipped.

They were all still laughing when a woman wearing a t-shirt that read, East Maybrook Invitational and holding an ipad poked her head into the classroom. “Storybrooke High in the hole!”

The girls all stood, gathering up their things, tossing orange peels into the trash bins and giving their hair and make up one last glance in the mirror. They followed the woman in the official t-shirt down two hallways to East Maybrook High’s cafeteria where cheer mats had been set up in the same configuration as on the performance floor. The girls took their places as if they were really performing, and marked out the routine while Coach Ava counted out the beats. If something went wrong with the music, they would have to keep going. They only pantomimed doing the stunts, however, not wanting to risk a last minute injury. 

After running through the routine, a nervous silence fell among them. Some girls stretched, others did a few jumps, or even a back handspring. Anything to handle their nervous energy. Emma bounced on the balls of her feet, heart pounding in her chest more than usual. A phone call had followed the letter: someone from the UK cheer staff would be in the stands today. 

And she still hadn’t told her friends about it.

“Storybrooke High on deck!” 

The girls gave each other nervous glances and clasped hands in little groups as they followed the woman out of the cafeteria doors. Emma had Ruby on her left and Mary Margaret on her right, their arms threaded together. For once, Ruby was quiet. 

As they neared the gym, the girls could hear the familiar sounds of competition: loud music, an announcer's voice, shouts as the audience cheered for the cheerleaders for once. It made the adrenaline pump even harder. It usually was at this moment that Emma went into her competitive “zone” where everything around her went fuzzy and her mind became laser focused on the routine and what she had to do. Today, however, she felt like she was on sensory overload, unable to turn off all the sights, sounds, and smells around her. 

Before she could even process everything, Storybrooke was being announced to the crowd. Emma ran out onto the floor with a huge smile, cheers, and fist pumps for the crowd, but it felt like she was outside of herself, watching. She took her place on the floor, standing in prep, her arms straight at her sides and her head down. Her fists were clenched, and she tried to control the nervous tremors coursing through her as she waited for their music to start. 

A synth-pop remix of “Hair” from the Broadway musical started to play, and the Storybrooke Knights whipped their ponytails as they started their back handspring/back tuck peel-offs. Coach Ava always said that the music needed to appeal to every generation represented in the judge’s panel as well as the crowd, and as Emma flawlessly landed her tumbling pass to roaring applause, she saw the two boomer judges smiling and bopping to the music. 

She reprimanded herself for looking at the judges as she jogged across the floor for her next tumbling pass. Nevertheless, she scanned the crowd just before she started her pass, wondering where that UK recruiter was. It was the most difficult pass in the entire routine: a back handspring into an arabian, then a double whip into a full twisting double back. She hesitated, stumbling, before getting started because of her distraction, and by the time she did her second whip, she had a sinking feeling. Sure enough, when she landed her double back, she was way out of bounds. She didn’t need the loud buzzer from the line judge to alert her to the fact. She gritted her teeth in frustration, but then remembered to fake a smile as she got into the dance formation. Her face ached from her forced smile as she swung her hips to the rhythm of “Whip My Hair.”

Emma’s next mistake came in the squad’s first pyramid. It felt like she had a weight attached to her ankle, and she couldn’t lift her leg as high as she normally did to connect to Mary Margaret’s stunt group to her left. She almost lost her balance completely, but Ruby compensated and saved it. Mary Margaret didn’t falter either, thank God. Emma was practically shaking as she went into the twist up stunt - her nemesis in this routine. Kelly Rowland singing “Crown” as Emma popped up, her hand grasping her ponytail, helped her power through, as cheesy as it sounded. 

Despite the mistakes Emma was berating herself for, the crowd was going crazy for the combination of the theme, the music, and the cool tricks. By the end, the entire gymnasium was on its feet with thunderous applause. Emma ended the routine seated on the mat, back to the audience with her head flung back. Since she saw them all upside down, she couldn’t pick out her family or anyone in Kentucky blue. 

Ruby yanked Emma to her feet, screaming loud enough to shatter her eardrums. Mary Margaret and Ariel sandwiched her in a hug, and then they were swept away by the rest of their ecstatic teammates. 

“Amazing job, girls!” Coach Ava praised, gathering them in a big, squirming, awkward group hug. “Mary Margaret didn’t even lose her hair!’’

They all laughed giddily, except for Emma. Her mind was reeling. “I went out of bounds,” she confessed.

Coach Ava waved off her words. “It’s our first competition. It’s normal for there to be kinks to work out. Let’s not worry about that until the next practice, though. For now, let’s just celebrate a solid opening for the season.”

Her teammates seemed to all be in agreement, and so did the judges, awarding The Storybrooke Knights with a third place finish. It wasn’t their best opening - that had been last year’s first place trophy to kick off the season - but making the top three was the goal of every top squad right out of the gate. Even the UK recruiter had congratulated her on a solid routine.

“I could see the nerves a bit,” she told Emma, her smile kind and reassuring, “but the level of tumbling skill you possess is rare. Top five I’ve seen so far, no doubt about it. We’ll definitely be in touch.”

Emma, however, couldn’t shake the feeling of failure that clung to her. 

“I’m blown away, Swan, that was amazing!”

Emma was in Killian’s arms before she could even register that he’d rushed out of the bleachers and onto the floor to greet her. He brushed a kiss to her cheek and deposited a bouquet of white daisies into her arms. 

“It wasn’t amazing,” Emma whispered, staring down at the white flowers. 

“Come now, don’t be modest.” Killian’s grin conveyed giddy pride in her which she found inexplicably annoying. 

“I stepped out of bounds on my big tumbling pass, I almost took down our first pyramid, and I was shaky on every single stunt!”

Killian’s eyes narrowed. “Your team doesn’t seem put out with you.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “They’re being nice. If we hadn’t placed, it would have been a different story. It would have all been my fault.”

“Whatever happened to the whole we win as a team, we fail as a team thing?”

“My team relies on me keeping my head on straight!” Her voice had risen, and she slashed the air with the bouquet of flowers. White petals fluttered to the gym floor. 

Killian cocked his head and studied her. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing!”

“It’s something, Swan.” 

He stepped forward, reaching for her, but she stepped out of his reach. 

“I just let everyone down, but no one will be straight with me. Why can’t you all just admit I screwed up today?”

Killian shook his head. “I don’t think you’re seeing things clearly. I saw an amazingly talented athlete today, Swan. You were amazing.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Of course you’d say that. You’re a high school guy. You’ll say anything you have to to get in a cheerleader’s panties.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “You really think so little of me?”

She tilted her chin. “I’m no fool. Did you think tonight would be the night? Show up to my little competition, compliment me, throw in some flowers, and I’d spread my legs for you?”

Killian backed away, his jaw clenching, nostrils flaring. “I’m going to assume you don’t mean any of that, Emma, so I’m walking away before either of us can say anything we might regret.”

“Fine!” she yelled as he turned and walked toward the gym doors. “Walk away! That’s what every guy does when a girl won’t put out.” She threw the flowers at his retreating form. She watched the white petals swirl through the air and the green stems hit the parquet floor with a soft swish and crinkle of cellophane wrapper. 

“Emma!”

She whirled around to see Ruth standing there, frown upon her face and her brow furrowed. David stood next to her, his arms crossed in disapproval. Nearby a cluster of her teammates stared as if she’d morphed into some mythological creature with two heads. Her face burned as she realized how loudly she’d yelled at her boyfriend. 

Probably ex-boyfriend now. 

Humiliated, she turned and fled, fingers pressed to her flaming cheeks. 

*********************************************

“Go away,” Emma muttered into her pillow.

“What if I were Mom with a plate of brownies?”

Emma grabbed a teddy bear, clutching two tiny red pom poms (a gift from Ruth after last year’s state championship win), and smacked her brother in the head with it. She glared at him through one eye, the rest of her face still smashed into the pillow. 

“I knew it was you because you crashed down on my bed hard enough to catapult me out the window. Ruth’s more subtle.”

David just laughed as he rubbed at his cheek where the bear had met his face. 

“Go away,” she repeated, turning her face fully into the pillow again.

“You left your phone downstairs.”

“So?”

“So, you have like fifty text messages and thirty missed calls.”

Emma rolled over, still clutching her pillow to her chest. “Well, he’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“It wasn’t just Killian. Your entire team is worried about you.”

“Because I choked?”

“Because you're delusional,” David shot back with equal parts humor and frustration. “You didn’t choke. You didn’t let any of us down. You didn’t give a lousy performance, or any of a thousand other ridiculous claims you’ve made in the past few hours.”

Emma turned to look at her brother. “I made mistakes, David.”

He shrugged. “Who doesn’t? It was one competition, Emma, not the Olympics. It wasn’t even the state championships or regionals. One. Competition. At some tiny high school in the middle of nowhere, Maine.”

Emma groaned as she pushed herself up to the headboard and let her head drop to David’s shoulder. He put his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Kentucky?”

Emma sighed. When the recruiter had called, she insisted on speaking to Ruth as well. Emma should have known she would spill the beans to her son, especially after Emma acted like a complete lunatic. 

Yes, a delusional lunatic. Her brother wasn’t wrong. 

“I don’t know, it was just . . . a lot to process. And a lot rides on this. I mean, there aren’t any football recruiters looking at you, which means college is gonna be expensive, Mr. Quarterback. If my tuition is taken care of, Ruth can just worry about you.”

“I could get other scholarships.”

“You’re a white, middle class male. You aren't getting any other scholarships.”

He chuckled and poked her in the ribs. “Regardless of all that, Mom just wants what’s best for you. We’ll figure out college and the money and all that, but we’ll do it together. That’s what a family does. Okay?”

This family thing was still new for Emma, so she just nodded in agreement against David’s shoulder. 

“But speaking of Killian,” David said, waving her phone in front of her face, “some of these calls and texts are from him. He sent you a video, too. Then called me and pretty much begged me to get you to watch it, so just give him that much, okay? So he’ll leave me alone?”

Emma rolled her eyes as she took the phone. David could protest all he wanted, but she knew about the little bromance he had with her boyfriend. 

She waited until her brother went downstairs before she sat cross-legged in the center of her bed and pulled up the video from Killian. She gnawed on her bottom lip nervously before pressing “play.” 

And there Killian was, on the tiny screen, smiling like they’d never had a fight. Emma’s lips pulled up into a grin of her own. He was also holding his guitar in his lap and fidgeting.

“Hi, Emma,” he said with a nervous little wave. “You’ve been ignoring all my calls and texts, so I decided to pull out the big guns. I was gonna give this to you as a gift for like Valentine’s Day or something, but  . . . you know . . . desperate times call for desperate measures.”

He cleared his throat and shifted again, and Emma blinked back tears. She’d never seen him at such a loss for words. 

“I wrote you a song,’ he continued, “so, I’ll just shut up and sing it already.”

Emma gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as he began to strum his electric. It started 

out as a kind of slow, cheeky punk rock ballad.

Oh, Emma, I don’t get your cheerleading squad, but I love your pom-poms. I'd feed you bon-bons all night.

Then it transitioned into a full on rock song, and Killian began to shred on his guitar. He was really good, and the song had Emma bobbing her head to the music. 

1,2,3,4. Yeah, you got me to feel all those butterflies inside. In your locker I would hide. The truth, it's only you I see, and you're just what I need. I'll bring you flowers all the time in hopes that you’ll be mine. Well I'm feelin' fine, I'm right on time. I hope I’ll win your heart.

When he transitioned into the chorus, Emma leapt up from her bed. She propped her phone on her nightstand and began to dance around the room to Killian’s song.

And you're just what I need. And you're just what I need. Not everything works as it seems. Is that so hard to believe? So I went down to the record store. Picked my head up off the floor. The truth, it's only you I see. And you're just what I need. And if it's my world that you fear, let me make this very clear. Well I'm feelin' fine, I'm right on time. I hope I’ll win your heart. And you're just what I need.

The chorus repeated a couple more times, and Emma danced around her room like she hadn’t in a long time. She even grabbed an old pair of pom poms she’d gotten as a joke at the squad’s white elephant Christmas party. They were those enormous pom poms cheerleaders used to wave in the long ago days of letter sweaters and megaphones. They made a fun swishing sound as she bounced around the room to Killian’s song. 

A song he’d written for her! A song about her! If she wasn’t so giddy and happy, she would burst into tears. 

When the song ended, Emma collapsed onto her bed, panting from her ridiculous dance party and grinning ear to ear. She rolled over and grabbed her phone. She texted rapidly, her fingers trembling. 

I watched your song. 

Did you like it? 

I LOVED it!

Good. I meant every word. 

I’m sorry. 

I know. 

#cs ff #captain swan movie marathon #csmm #bring it on au #lieutenant duckling #high school au

[infjsnightmare]

This will be chapter one of the Fyodor×female!SO amnesia fic that I am working on. I haven't posted a fanfic in who knows how long so the quality is probably on the poor side. Any feedback is appreciated! I'm hoping to continue this, but it will probably be on the back burner of my schedule. I also am not used to tumblrs platform, so any advice for formatting would be greatly encouraged. I'm not adding character tags to this since I don't want it to clog up the fandom, but if you end up liking it and would like me to tag you in future updates, don't hesitate to ask. Anyways, I think that's about all in the way of introductions!

*************************************************

She glanced over at the dark-haired man as he worked, yet again, into the early hours of the morning. The pale blue of his various monitors was the only thing to illuminate his snow-white skin. His tired eyes barely blinking as they scanned the database in front of him while his long slender fingers danced along the keyboard. She sighed knowing that arguing his work schedule would prove futile. In all the years she'd known the man, he would never put himself before his cause, even for a few hours of needed rest. Still, she wouldn't sit well with herself without at least a half-hearted attempt.

"Fedya", the shorter woman lightly placed a scarred hand on the back of his swiveling desk chair, "you'll never create a promised land without proper sleep." Her tone was sharp and came out as an order as opposed to a suggestion. The woman winced upon realizing her terse composition, a remnant of her time as a child soldier. "Hmm?" The man hummed his response, inflection rising as a question. He was being gracious with her, giving her a chance to correct herself. There was no doubt he had heard what she said, but this was a mercy he spared for only her. "I mean to say, that your promised land will wait for you, but I worry that your health may not," She turned his chair to face her, pleading eyes betraying her stoic expression. "Please come to bed." Her eyes were always a point of weakness for the Russian. Her straight posture, tight jaw and tense shoulders could never take away from the pure wealth of emotion her eyes gave away. "This is important work," Fyodor began as he already saw those precious eyes relax in resignation. So, she was fully prepared for him to reject her offer. Noticing the puff of air she let slip, he decided that perhaps he had been too persistent in his goals the past few days. He tilted his head thoughtfully, stray black hairs like a silk spider's web swaying over his crimson orbs. "But, since Decay of Angels will be moving into its next phase soon, it couldn't hurt to prepare myself and rest." He punctuated his decision with a soft smile, grabbing her hand from the chair to lead her to bed. Eyes widened the faintest amount, the only hint of shock she portrayed. "Thank you, sir." She nodded while examining his pale elegant hand in her much rougher calloused digits.

Everything about him spoke of grace. An angel among men, with the unfortunate disposition of a demon. But that's what she admired in him. When they met all those years ago, her rifle placed directly at his temple. Even then, she couldn't fathom the young man in front of her leading such a dangerous life. But, when their eyes met, he had just chuckled lightly, grabbing the barrel. "Would you like to see this world burn?" All it took was one question from his lips and she knew she would follow him to the depths of hell. Being a soldier, recruited for her ability that never let her miss a mark, forced to kill from such a young age, the world to her was a pile of rubble, but this man, this god, would show her paradise. When she stared back into his eyes, she knew it was the truth. That was the day she left the Russian Special Ops. That was the day she massacred the rest of her division and escaped. That was the day she vowed her body and mind to Fyodor. At the time, she believed she no longer had a heart and so it was not something she could offer, but now, looking up at his tired profile, feeling that tightness in her chest, realized that he already possessed it.

She followed him wordlessly through the corridors until they came to their shared bedroom. Her hands moved to his shoulders, lightly massaging his exhausted body, while removing his jacket. "What is it that's on your mind, Milaya?" The deep voice disrupting her thoughts. "I was just thinking of all we've been through. I truly would do anything for you, Fedya." She stared straight into his eyes, and any lesser man would've cowered under her gaze. Instead, he let out an airy chuckle "You say such sweet things as though you are about to kill a man." An amused smile played at his lips while tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "If all goes according to plan, there shouldn't be much for you to do in any case." Fyodor dismissed the though with a wave of his hand as he dropped to the bed, all his muscles giving in to the plush bed and warm blankets. "If all goes according to plan, you'll be tucked away in a cell in Europe." She smirked playfully pushing him until his head hit the pillow. Her smile faltered briefly at the thought of how far away he would be. Sure, he'd been gone on missions before, but she always knew when to expect him back. This time was different. This time relied on the other members of the organization to play their part.

"And if I'm captured? I've heard that there are abilities that could extract information about you from me. Similar to Sigma." Her brows furrowed as she continued "I've been thinking a lot and I believe that if I am to be found, I will need to forget you.... to protect you." She finished and looked up at him, seeing the faintest trace of worry etched in his face. "Don't be ridiculous. It will never come to that." His voice was even, though his agitation was apparent to her trained eye. "Now isn't the time to discuss such matters." She nodded in agreement. "You're right, you need to rest. We'll talk about this in the morning." She wrapped herself around him, laying her head on the space between his shoulder and chest. He rolled his eyes at the prospect of continuing this discussion at any point in time but planted a chaste kiss to her temple regardless, as they both drifted off to sleep.

The warm smell of steeping Lady Grey roused the young woman from her slumber as she blearily rubbed at her eyes. Sleeping next to Fyodor was the only way for her body to relax as she rested. She knew that she was safe. Her training had taught her to always be on alert and for a long time she could have awaken at the drop of a pin. But, whenever she slept with him next to her, she would wake to find him already dressed for the day, tea on the bedside table and she would not have the faintest inkling of how long she must have slept through his routine. "Good morning." Fyodor's voice sounded like honey to her as he traced a gloved finger underneath her jaw. She lazily scanned the room before her eyes settled on his form sitting next to her bedside. "Good morning, Fedya. How long have you been sitting there?" Pressing her cheek lightly against his hand before straightening her posture, slowly reverting to her tense state of being. The raven haired man smiled watching the remnants of his dazed princess slip away into the strict stance of his loyal soldier. "Not long." He gave a quick reply, his façade nearly perfectly covering the truth. He'd been watching her for about 32 minutes at this point, memorizing her rhythmic breathing and the delicate parting of her lips. He wracked his brain for every possible scenario of how last night's conversation would play out this morning and every route led him to the same conclusion: he wasn't going to change her mind. She was his soldier after all and she was loyal to a fault. If she believed her own mind could put him in danger, then she would destroy it. If she believed her love for him would put him in danger, then she would let go of her own heart.

"Milaya, I-" "You've already deciphered how this conversation ends, haven't you?" She cut him off before he could even start. The way his eyebrows slightly contorted on his soft features relayed his worry. He must have been recalling last night and she knew if she gave him too much room to talk, there was a chance his silver tongue could change her mind. "I have." Lowered voice, clipped. He was unhappy with her decision, but he wasn't going to waste time arguing around a pre-determined outcome. Maybe he could change her mind, but not without manipulating some aspect of their conversation, not without toying with her emotions and using her like a pawn. He frowned bitterly at the thought. She was a queen in his chest set and he could never allow her to be set like a pawn. A queen was always there to defend the king, roaming the board freely, but always returning back by his side. Against the odds, he would have to trust that she would do just that. That if she were to throw away their past, throw away her memories, that she would still find him again and return to his side.

A squeezing pressure against his hand brought him back out of his own head as she gripped his hand with hers. “I promise you, I will return to you. We will stand together in the new world. Just promise me, no matter how long it may take, that you will wait for me?” The sincerity held in her eyes shown brightly before him. Not just sincerity, but something else. Love. The most basic and most complicated on the spectrum of human emotions. It had the ability to make weak men strong. To make strong men crumble. To make a feeble man think. And to make even the most genius of men fall into stupidity. And here he was, staring into the eyes of the only being he gave merit to, stupidly agreeing to let her follow through with her plan. He stared into her eyes with such intensity she was sure that her soul was bared naked before him as he made his promise. “ya obeshchayu tebe, moya lyubov.” The air in the room hung heavy, and it almost seemed as if time had stopped as the pair gazed, entranced by one another. She felt her jaw clench and tighten with an emotion she wasn’t sure how to name, lost somewhere between heartache and contentment. “Thank you, Fedya.” Standing abruptly, she wrapped her strong arms around his slender frame, face pressed firmly into his chest. A rare display of raw emotion from the woman, fighting her natural composure. It was only in these moments, just the two of them, that she could be this weak. It was only times when they were alone, that he could allow himself to be this warm. And, as much as the lovers could wish that time had actually stopped, it would continue on regardless. “Of course, that is only in the event that I even be captured.” She straightened, fixing herself with a quiet confidence. “I never miss a target. I would never be taken easily.” Her expression remained void of any defining emotion, but her eyes held the credence and self-assurance that a soldier of her caliber is sure to possess. “Good.” The simply reply held the acknowledge of her skill and all the weight of an order. The implication that she would raise hell and only enact this contingency plan as a last resort was not lost on her. Cool lips brushed delicately over hers in a chaste kiss, faint and fleeting as though it were a ghost. Her lips were warm like fire against his as she chased the kiss adding the slightest pressure. The pair exchanged one last fervent glance before regaining their aloof composure and exiting to continue their work.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Aftermath: The Debriefing

A continuation of the consequences of this chapter

Read from the beginning here

“Hey! It’s Mingfei. Please leave a message, and I’ll get right back to you...”

Nono lowered the phone from her ear and hung up. She’d already left a message. 

As soon as the plane had taken off from Japan, Caesar called her and told her that her newest recruit hadn’t survived her first mission. As soon as she got into the presence of the dragon egg, she’d turned servitor and they left her behind so they wouldn’t have to kill her.

Mingfei had to be forcibly dragged away from her. She wasn’t surprised. He was a lonely person, desperate for love and probably fell for her over the trip. He was probably heartbroken and needed time. He really was an unlucky guy.

She walked back into the principal’s office where Caesar and Johann were seated in front of his desk. “Still nothing.” She said. “Let’s just start without him.”

Anjou was leaning back in his chair, feet on the desk, puffing on a cigar. The blue holographic girl, EVA floated nearby, “Ready to record the debriefing.” She said. 

“Caesar. Please begin.” Anjou nodded, his eyes fixed on a  large globe.

“I will but first, I have to ask you to share your cigar.”

Anjou turned the wood box to Caesar who reached out and picked up one of the Cubans as well as a gold dragon shaped lighter and lit up. He took a long slow drag and let it out. Nono rested one hand on his shoulder. He leaned his head slightly toward it.

“This is the debriefing of team Caesar.” He began. “Upon arrival, things went as expected. The Japan division reps were polite but distant. They were led by Chisei Gen, who surprised me by already knowing about our new girl.” 

“Did he say how he knew?” Anjou asked.

“No. Only that he’d heard about a powerful new student. I think it’s likely that some of our freshmen here are plants to keep an eye on us.”

“On her arrival here, she attracted a lot of attention...” Nono commented, recalling the group that had followed her from the limousine. 

Caesar continued. ”They outfitted us in their traditional dress and escorted us from the airport. There was nothing out of the ordinary until our arrival at their headquarters when Masamune requested our assistance in eliminating the Devil Clan. He suspected they were behind the Dragon’s awakening.”

Caesar crossed his arms. “Masamune did not provide any proof of this accusation. The new recruit picked up on this actually... She said ‘if someone was waking up a dragon, they should be stopped’. If.” Caesar smiled at the memory. “She had good instincts.”

Anjou was silent, still not commenting. Nono glanced at Johann. He was relaxed his chair, not meeting anyone’s eyes and not speaking. To the casual observer, he seemed bored. Nono knew better. She wasn’t a mind reader, but she sensed a growing emotional disturbance coming from him, like a boiling under a lid, a low growl, rumbling just under the surface.

“They decided to divide us among the different clans. To keep her safe, I suggested that she go with Chisei Gen, the strongest hybrid in the group. I stuck with the Ryoma’s, Johann with Fuma, and Lu with Sakurai.” Caesar shook his head. “We all reported an unexpected number of servitors in this area. We took care of all of them, but it took longer than I would have liked. Had I known there were going to be so many, I might have insisted that the recruit stay back at the mansion. She wasn’t ready to see that kind of action... but...” He reached over and tapped the ashes into the silver tray. “It was, what it was.”

Johann’s eyes snapped over to Anjou. “She was deeply affected by it.”

Caesar’s cigar paused an inch from his lips. He sat, still as a statue. “Do not interrupt.” 

Their eyes met for a few seconds before Johann relented, breaking the stand off to resume staring into space. Nono slowly let out the breath she’d been holding.

“She got injured. I was planning on asking how, but I didn’t get the chance...”

Anjou finally spoke. “What were the extent of her injuries?”

“Bruising around the neck, like she’d been strangled.”

Anjou’s gaze lowered. “I see. Continue.”

“We got into submarine. The mission seemed straight forward until we got that message from Schneider about the Greenland mission. Warning us about doors. I uh... realized the mission was dangerous but, that warning put things into perspective. So, I had everyone record their last messages.”

“Including the recruit?” Anjou asked.

“Uh huh.” Caesar ran his tongue over his lips.

Nono could feel the emotion rising from him when he lowered his eyes and shifted in his chair. “You know what was interesting? she seemed to accept the idea of possibly dying a lot more easily than the rest of us did. It bothered me. A lot. I had that feeling that her last words were directed at me. In particular.” 

Nono reached down and slid her hand around the back of his neck, from shoulder to shoulder. This part he hadn’t told her.

“I got a really bad feeling. I told her to stay behind with Mingfei. But uh... we ran into a problem. Once we got to the site where the signal was coming from, there was no way into the tower. We considered blasting our way in. But that would have spent some of our munitions and potentially not have worked.”

“Turned out, the girl had a connection to the place that none of us realized. Even though it was dark, she could see. And she saw visions of dragons, that helped her solve the riddle to the first door. The second door required her to sing a certain song in draconic so we could get in. Johann helped her with that. She was the one who gave us access to the dragon egg.” 

Anjou turned to Caesar, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Her Speaking Spirit?”

“Possibly.” Caesar took another drag, stretching his legs out, relaxing into Nono’s gentle massage. “From your look, I take it you didn’t know about this?”

“On her E3 exam, she did not write anything on the paper. We have no idea what her Speaking Spirit is.”

Johann took a slow deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out.

Anjou tapped out the ashes and rubbed his beard. “None of you saw what she saw?” Caesar and Johann both shook their heads. “Go on...”

“Finally, we reached the final destination. And yes, it was a door.” He shook his head. “I... was over confident. I thought she was fine. I let her go in. As soon as she got in there...” He raised the cigar to his lips but didn’t inhale, biting down on the tip. “There wasn’t anything we could do about it. Johann and I both understood that but uh... Lu flipped out.”

“I see.” Anjou replied. 

The office descended into a somber silence. The pain in the room was like standing under a blazing sun. Nono endured it. Maybe if she hadn’t been so harsh in her last words to her recruit, she wouldn’t have taken so many risks.

“We had to drag him all the way back to the sub. All the way back to Chicago.” He reached over and snuffed out the cigar. “Don’t think he’ll be talking to us for a while.”

“And the embryo?”

“The signal disappeared. No sign of it. The corruption in the ocean subsided. Mission accomplished.” Caesar sighed, closing his eyes with a shrug. “I still got that damn kimono.”

Anjou looked over to Johann. “You have something to add?”

Johann’s voice was so soft, the AI had to increase the volume on her recording. “If you didn’t know she was key to the mission, why did you send her?”

Anjou leaned forward, elbows against his desk. He stared hard at Johann, thinking. For a moment there was no sound beyond the hum of the computers in the room. “There is an explanation. But I can’t give it to you.”

Johann’s expression shifted to disbelief.

“I know it’s hard to accept. I’m asking a lot of you. But on this case, I need you to trust me. And if you can’t trust me, trust her. Have faith that she found a way out.”

Johann’s shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “What are we basing this faith on?”

“The fact that she saw things that you did not.” Anjou glanced over. “EVA, have ‘Adams’ bring me her exam paper.”

The cat sized humanoid robot hovered away to retrieve it. “It appeared that she did not write anything on the E3. But perhaps she did and we simply could not perceive it.”

Nono looked up at Anjou, who was still massaging his beard. He was shockingly relaxed. Even though an S-ranked student was dead, he was more interested in her exam paper. He didn’t seem concerned at all.

Adams returned with the sealed black box. Anjou punched in a password on a keypad and it snapped unlocked. Inside was the blank paper collected at her E3.

Anjou stood up and placed it in front of Johann. “If you remember the words she used, could you speak them?”

The sharp spike in Johann’s emotional state! Nono’s eyes widened. The young man stood up and walked the few steps over to the desk.

The paper was not entirely blank. It was dotted with blotches where it had gotten wet and dried. She’d told him that on her E3 exam all she could do was cry. Those blotches were the marks of her tears.

All Johann could think about was how terrified she was the night of the raid. How traumatized she’d been afterwards. She wasn’t stupid. She knew the peril. He’d told her to trust them, to trust Anjou.

He didn’t tell her the name he’d picked out for her because he wasn’t sure if it would fit. The given name he’d considered, Meixiu, meant that someone was an iconic prodigy. Someone along the lines of Mozart or Da Vinci.  As only the second S-ranked student he’d ever encountered, that fit her well enough on a surface level. But she was more than an S-ranked talent. More importantly, he didn’t want her to be defined by a talent that was unstable and could kill her. 

When he looked at her, he also saw someone innocent. The family name Bai held a meaning of purity, light and innocence that embodied her. But it also had a secondary, less auspicious meaning: That of blankness and emptiness, something given free of charge. Like a white sheet of paper.

He thought he needed more time to find something more fitting. As it turned out, Bai Meixiu wasn’t as inappropriate as he’d imagined.

Johann laid his fingertips on the paper and slid it back toward the principal his eyes hidden by the curtain of his long hair.

“If... you’re so certain, that she’s alive...” Johann whispered, “Then... when she comes back from the dead, she can say the words herself.”

Nono stared incredulous as Johann turned on his heel and left the room, the slam of the door echoing in his wake.

#Johann Chu #Nono #Caesar Gattuso #Anjou #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing

[volganic]

Eyes like yours

[AO3] || [discord] guess who didnt want to write important things like the next chapter of song? or any of my other unfinished drafts? guess who wanted to write a whole new thing based off a song by shakira? it’s me

Hyrule Castle was under siege. 

In the blink of an eye, monsters and fire laid waste to the green of the undisturbed fields that surrounded the castle. It was terrifying how quickly the pace of battle moved and washed over the Hyrulean forces, but Link moved quicker. Where the other trainees stood by in the safety of the walls of the castle, Link was out in the thick of it, fighting side by side with his more seasoned captains without a second to waste. Every second counted.

It might have been his first time taking the lives of enemies, but his actions didn’t go unnoticed as he cut his way through the waves of the grotesque monsters. The general herself, Impa, took note of how he took charge of the situation; she mentally thanked the three that there was still hope in light of these rapidly darkening times. She marched over to the rookie soldier after cutting through a duo of raid captains that dared to cross her, and planted a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to thank you properly, trainee,” she began as Link turned to face her, “but the princess is farther out in the field. We need to regroup. The only thing keeping us from accomplishing that is capturing one of the enemy’s vital keeps.” The Sheikah’s eyes scanned the field, drawing the Hylian’s gaze as she pointed to closed doors on the other side of the field. “There! I don’t know what is in there, but start there and I will assist you once our men have control of the field. Understand, soldier?” 

The recruit gave a stiff nod and a salute. Impa returned the gesture. “May the goddesses smile on us all.” She turned on her heel back to aid one of their knights in the distance who was beginning to become overwhelmed with another wave of enemies. Link wished he could help there, but the entire weight of the battle weighed on his shoulders with this new task he was given. He swallowed thickly; capturing this keep could easily help them win or lose this war.

Link burst through the large doors of the abandoned fort, finding it seemingly empty. Impa said it was a vital stronghold for their assailants, but there was nothing to show for it; not even a blade of grass was out of place against the pavement. The Hylian’s senses told him to stay on high alert regardless as he inched across the stone path to the other pair of locked doors. His instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong. 

He didn’t make it too far — a sound whizzed through his ears and a heavy spear collided into the ground inches away from where he planned to take his next step. He stepped back reflexively when rocks splintered in every direction, and his sight went skyward to the source. A large shadow of a man stood on the top of the stone wall of the keep. He paced along the edge like a predator, staring down at the lone soldier below — at least, Link assumed he was staring. The glare of the sun shrouded him in darkness, making it difficult to discern certain features. 

The man lurched forward to meet the ground, and Link’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened. He ignored how heavy it suddenly felt in his hands as he watched the taller man move with grace to pluck his weapon out from the cracked earth. Adrenaline flooded the Hylian’s veins now that he could fully see his enemy: his built physique, macabre armor, dragon-shaped helmet, deadly weapon in hand — everything was set to strike fear into anyone lesser. He steeled his resolve and kept his sword drawn.

The red-clad knight circled the trainee soldier like a lion. He made no movement to strike. It was intimidating how slowly he stalked around him, just waiting for an opportunity to make his move, and Link knew that he wasn’t fooling anyone with an act of bravery. The man tsk’d with an amused grin on his face, watching the blade in the boy’s hand beginning to shake. 

“They dare send only one lowly soldier to take my keep?” His low, mocking tone echoed off the walls, worming into the Hylian’s mind, taunting him. “I do not know whether to be flattered that they finally threw me a bone,” he suddenly frowned, coming to a stop in his pacing, “or insulted that they sent someone not worth my time.” 

In a fit of anger, Link blindly ran forward to strike the man down. Rage cried out of his lungs and filled the silence between them, but was replaced with a cry of pain as his side was struck with a hard kick. He crumpled to the ground and watched his only means of attack be swept out of his reach. An armored boot filled his view before it moved, finding a home placed firmly on top of his sternum. The man’s growling was the only thing Link could hear besides his own strained whimpers as he scrambled underneath his boot, his breath being crushed out of him.

“Pathetic,” the knight hissed, digging his pointed heel into the thick metal mail, trying to expose the fleshier bits of his prey’s chest. Some links of the chain gave out under the rough treatment. Pained cries fell on deaf ears. “You’re nothing but a boy playing a sad excuse for a soldier.” 

Link screwed his eyes shut, trying to collect himself with the combined force of the crushing weight on his chest and with hearing his enemy’s words. It struck a chord deep in him — he was praised highly among the rest of camp for his swordsmanship, but falling so quickly in battle drowned him in shame. It was pitiful that he wished for this stranger to kill him quickly to spare him the humiliation of returning to what would be left of the castle with his tail between his legs, not only failing his general, but all of Hyrule.

Suddenly the weight was lifted off his chest, and Link’s lungs burned with the rush of air. It was all the reprieve he was given when he was forcefully pulled up by the collar of his blue and white tunic, nearly nose-to-nose with the enemy. 

“You must be new to the ways of war,” the knight crooned. “Running headstrong into the fray without so much as a helmet.” He turned the soldier’s head from side to side with his other hand, looking him over with vague interest. “Pity, you are a pretty thing. Stupid, but pretty nonetheless.” 

Link couldn’t hear the words the man muttered under his breath. He was completely entranced with the way how the pointed tips of his eye markings moved over his cheeks with each carefully selected word. It drew his attention to eyes which he couldn’t see from a distance, but with him being so close, the Hylian could see underneath the pointed snout of the dragon-shaped helmet. If he couldn’t breathe before, he certainly wasn’t breathing now.

The man’s eyes were an even deeper black than the paint that shrouded his eyes, an expanse of a void that Link felt so lost in, but he was fixated on the way his eyes seemed to pierce through his very soul, irises swirling of emerald and gold, and even a ring of fiery red along the edges. It was unlike anything Link had ever seen before: so daunting, so primal, feral, instilling fear through his veins —

— but also leaving him awestruck in its own twisted sense of beauty.

A strangled gasp managed to worm its way out of the Hylian’s throat as he was pulled off the ground again by the neck, held an arm’s length away from the enemy. He kicked furiously at the air, the toes of his boots barely scraping against the pavement, being held higher and higher up into the air. The knight laughed cruelly at his struggle.

“I’ve wasted enough time with you, boy.” The air crackled with an energy unknown to Link. An aura of red magic covered the knight’s arm holding Link hostage, striking panic through Link as the temperature rose to a dangerous degree, the clawed gauntlet threatening to burn through his tunic and mail. Another swirl of magic caused his arm to distort into something akin to a dragon’s limb — or at least, that’s what Link could only imagine it being — and gripping the Hylian’s throat even tighter. “I’ve only come to fight worthy foes!”

If the dragon squeezed any further, it would surely kill him in an instant if he didn’t suffocate first. Adrenaline surged through him to fight for his life — have to run, get away, do something! — screaming at every one of his nerves to act. His arms slipped through the spaces between the dragon’s claws, hands desperate to scratch his way out of the other’s grip, red scales flaking off with each futile swipe. Link’s racing heart and panicked breathing filled his ears, falling deaf to the man’s threats. 

A searing pain struck across his left hand even through the leather of his glove. Link wasn’t sure if the light blinding him was a signal that he was knocking on death’s door, but whatever it was, it also blinded his assailant; its rays dared to rival those from the sun. The ground rushed to meet Link’s body as he felt himself drop to the ground again, no longer being held in a crushing choke hold or close to the heat of his enemy. Through his rattled mind and the ringing in his ears, sound slowly came back into his senses, filled only with curses and snarling from the disoriented knight on the other side of the keep.

Link sat up quickly while he had the chance and scanned the pavement for his weapon. If only he had his sword…

“You—” the man growled, rubbing any streaks of light that distorted his vision, “you can’t be!”

“Soldier!”

Quick footfalls approached the two of them, and soon enough, Impa stood between them, hand steadied on the hilt of her blade and shielding the Hylian from any more torture from the red-clad knight. Her eyes stared at their enemy with a piercing gaze, daring him to make another move. 

“Volga.”

‘Volga’ scoffed in response to being called by anything other than his full title. “I am not here to entertain you, Sheikah.” His eyes fell to the boy that lay behind her. “I may have… underestimated Hyrule’s forces. But I promise you this, I will not make the same mistake again.” With a roar and another swirl of magic, a pair of leathery wings stretched outright from Volga’s back. Impa’s stance grew tense as Volga pointed his spear at them — specifically toward Link’s direction. “You haven’t beaten me yet. Next time we meet, boy, I will cut through your shields and mount your head on a pike!”

With that decree and a beat of his large wings, Volga retreated into the sky. Embers filled the space where he had once stood, leaving Impa and Link in a keep that now belonged to Hyrule’s forces. This was the turning point of this battle, but it was far from over.

“The princess still awaits us to regroup. We haven’t won yet.” Impa turned to offer her hand, which her recruit gladly accepted. He couldn’t meet her gaze as he rushed over to where his knight’s sword had lay discarded a few feet away from them, holstering his blade back in its place, half-expecting an earful of reprimands —

Impa placed a hand on his shoulder, much to his surprise. Link tilted his head to look at her in question. The general’s hand pulled his left arm away from his side to reveal the source of the burning pain from earlier, the only thing that spared him from an premature death: the glowing mark of the Triforce on the back of his glove.

“But now that we have found you, perhaps we just might win.”

Link’s fate was now set in stone. There was only one thing that thrilled and terrified him both at the same time: coming face-to-face with Volga again.

#hyrule warriors #fic #volink #its gonna be volink *bdg voice* dw ill get to it

[theangelofvengeance]

A Wish Among The Stars

Midnight had officially been broken around what seemed to be the remains of Garreg Mach Monastery. This great big building which had been home to Fodlan's archbishop, Lady Rhea, was nothing more than reduced to ruins, all thanks to a sneak attack that had been planned by former student and the current emperor of the Adrestian Empire, Edelgard Von Hresvelg. It had finally been five years ago ever since that incident occurred, and safe to say, a lot of the students, teachers and everyone who have worked closely with Lady Rhea, had never forgotten that fateful day.

No doubt Ashe Ubert was one of those students who experienced that unforgettable sneak attack just five years ago. It was also five years ago that his dear professor, Byleth, had been presumed missing. Yes, he had been found ever since, and he had been working all day night with the rest of the Blue Lions to get even against Edelgard herself. And tomorrow was gonna be the day that their professor would take the class he lead in his life over to the Adrestian capital of Enbarr, where they can finally overthrow Edelgard's bloodthirsty regime once and for all.

And it was gonna be the final battle too. That was the one thing Ashe didn't expect, but was expected anyway since the archer himself didn't know how long he wanted to keep fighting this way. Right now, he just wanted to keep both Fodlan and Faerghus, the towns that he resided in in a state of peace. At least on this night Ashe was having all to himself, he only managed to get a brief taste of that peace as he found himself all alone in the middle of the night, stargazing down from the greenhouse he was slumbered inside in. It was mostly Ashe's thing whenever he found himself bored or just wanted to get away from the madness outside the monastery. There was something about being roomed inside a greenhouse while looking at the stars through one of the windows that made it sound so hauntingly beautiful. That and mixed with the sweet aroma of flowers around him made for a perfect nighttime setting.

Of course, he also couldn't forget the warm aroma of chocolate chip cookies that was cooling off in the box that was sitting next to him. This definitely sounded like a peaceful moment to him indeed, especially when he let his thoughts out all to himself.

"I can't wait for this entire war to be over and done with. It almost feels like a long time too..."

A calm sigh broke from Ashe's lips, one that spoke out of pure peace and yet out of uncertainly. He couldn't quite help but think that this upcoming battle with Edelgard could possibly be his last, should he have to die in that final war. He also couldn't help but think if this war would be the final time he would ever see his friends again if they were to fall in battle. Throughout the years in the monastery, he had made friends with his fellow Blue Lions like Felix, Ashe, Ingrid, Mercedes, Sylvain, Annette and their trustful King of Faerghus, Dimitri. Not to mention the students his dear professor recruited into the group like Dorothea, Ferdinand, Leonie, Lysithea, Hilda, Marianne, Balthus and Constance. Ashe had treated everyone of them more than friends.

They were his family. The kind of family that Ashe never got the chance to have even though he was adopted. The kind of family that even though they weren't related, they were bonded by blood and blood alone. What he wouldn't do for any of them that's already been said enough. He continued to reminisce for a little while until he felt the inside of his stomach rumble out of hunger.

"Okay, I hope those cookies are cold enough for me to eat now..." Ashe said to himself before putting his hand inside the box of cookies.

But as he did though, he somehow touched what seemed to be a silk-like glove instead of a baked cookie biscuit. This feeling gave Ashe a grim gulp around his throat as he quickly turned his head to see who he was touching.

The mysterious figure Ashe was touching smiled right to him, "Hi, Ashe."

'GAAAAH!" shrieked Ashe as he nearly fell out of the ledge he was sitting on.

The archer managed to keep his balance long enough to refocus on the person that was sitting next to him, which just happened to be one of his Blue Lions teammates, Annette.

"Don't do that, Annette! You really scared the heck out of me!" Ashe said with his heart palpitating.

"I'm sorry to scare you like that, Ashe." The cheerful girl replied back to him, "I kinda smelled chocolate chip cookies and I was wondering where that smell was coming from in the first place."

"Oh, that..." Ashe chuckled with a blush on his face. He then looked down at the box and said, "Yeah, it was coming from this box. Mercedes kinda made me a batch full of cookies, and I'm trying to cool them off."

"Well, they definitely look scrumptious." Annette nodded before asking, "You don't mind, do you?"

The silver-haired archer then nodded back, "Oh, go ahead."

"Thanks," She smiled sweetly, taking a freshly-baked cookie out from the box. Munching on the cookie itself, Annette then asked the archer, "By the way, I didn't know you hung out here at nights."

Ashe fought out a nervous chuckle as he said with a cookie in hand, "Yeah, sometimes I need to find a good place to get some space and clear my thoughts. What with this being a crazy world due to all of the battles we've fought in so far."

"No kidding," Annette nodded with her mouth full, "Hard to believe we've been through so much, it's no wonder we're still alive in one piece."

"Indeed," Ashe nodded back, "The hardest part of every battle is realizing the fact that in every fight, we have to lose every one of our friends. The ones we grew up with in this very monastery. The fact that they're not with us anymore still hurts."

Annette felt that very same thing Ashe was feeling: Hurt. And no doubt that taking their friends lives in the middle of this tragic war hurt so much like a bloody dagger straight to the heart. It jams in there back and forth before it sinks right into the womb, leading to the brink of nowhere when it comes to life. Sometimes, it even led both Ashe and Annette to wonder themselves if this was hardly worth fighting for. The cold hard truth was that it wasn't worth it, but at the end of the day, it was the way this war had to be.

Minutes of silence passed between both Ashe and Annette for a good while, only for the auburn-haired songbird to break the tension by staring right up to the skies and said, "You know Ashe, maybe they're not really gone at all."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Ashe raised his eyebrow, looking at Annette with such curiosity.

"Maybe they're up there in the skies," Annette said as she pointed up the starry sky, "From the way I see it, I like to envision the friends we lost in those battles as stars. Maybe the goddess reincarnated them as such. Sure they may not be with us on this Earth, but up there, they're watching above us in this starry night." She then pointed to the exact moon itself and said, "And see that moon upthere, Ashe?"

"Yeah, I see it." Ashe nodded.

"That moon, in my mind, represents the goddess itself." Annette pointed out once more, "And those stars in the sky are joined with her in perfect harmony. Because like us, those friends fought and gave their lives for a higher purpose. We honor her and them with our hearts, because we all know they never went away no matter what their fate on Earth lies."

Ashe let out a brief, yet relieved smile as he nodded. "Huh, you're right. I really never thought about it that way."

Peaceful solitude began to break out between the two young Blue Lions themselves. Neither Ashe and Annette knew how peaceful their time looking at the stars was. Oh, if only it could be like this between the two friends themselves without any kind of war breaking out, then they never get tired of each other's company. Ever.

That solitude would only last for a bit while before Annette was surprised by the image of a shooting star falling from orbit. This excited the cheerful overachiever so much that she tugged Ashe right by the shoulder to get his attention.

"Hey Ashe, look up there!" She said as Annette pointed up to the right.

Ashe immediately followed suit as he looked up once more, only to see that shooting star shine right between his pale green eyes. It looked quite beautiful from afar, even going so far to shine even more brightly than a pearly white smile.

"I can't believe it's a shooting star," The archer chuckled out, "I hardly ever get any of those at night."

Annette chuckled once again as she said, "I guess we're lucky then, now we get to make a wish."

"Yeah," Ashe smiled back with a nervous blush growing between his cheeks. Soon as his blush faded away, the archer then asked Annette, "What did you wish for, anyway?"

The auburn-haired cutie shrugged before saying, "I don't know, nothing special. My only wish is that I just want this war to be over and make it in one piece with everyone on our side."

"That's a really good wish you thought of." Ashe nodded reassuringly.

"I did, didn't I?" Annette said, blushing a bit herself before asking him, "You make a wish yourself, Ashe?"

The archer, truth be told, possibly didn't know how to respond to that one simple question, leading him to shrug back at her in response.

"I wouldn't know to be honest," He finally replied, "I mean, there are so many things I'm looking forward to in the future that I couldn't possibly think of what to wish for and all. I thought so many like leaving Fodlan to mark a path of my very own, maybe become a knight that I've always dreamed of being for in a famous House, or maybe retire and spend all my days shooting apples with my arrows and whatnot."

Annette broke out in a giggle saying, "You thinking of being some sort of mountain man? I can't imagine what you'd look like with a beard."

"I probably wouldn't say I'd go that far." Ashe chuckled back, sharing a laugh with the girl sitting right close to him.

All that laughing and stargazing ended up making Ashe even more hungry then usual. He decided to pick up yet another chocolate chip cookie when all of a sudden, he felt Annette's hand touch his yet again, resulting in both Ashe and Annette exchanging a blush between each other.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He said, apologizing to her.

"Oh, don't apologize, that one's on me." Annette said, pardoning the archer.

But as soon as they touched hands, something weird started to happen with the two of them together. Well, Annette most of all though as she felt a warm resonance coming from Ashe's own hand. It looked quite soft yet so warm for someone whose hands felt a little dirty after a day of training or perhaps a day of battle. Ashe felt the same way about Annette's hands too. They were smooth, creamy and inviting like feeling a cloth of silk for the first time or perhaps a cloud that Ashe could feel himself touch from where he was sitting at. The feeling felt amazing for the two of them, so much so that they never escaped each other's gaze at all.

Annette quickly wiped her blush away before replying to Ashe, "I really like spending time with you, Ashe."

"Same here," Ashe nodded with a whisper escaping his lips. He composed himself with a deep breath before he said to Annette, "You know, seeing that shooting star up in the sky, I realize I did make a wish after all."

"Really? What's that?" Annette asked curiously.

She didn't wait too long to get an answer from him.

In fact, Annette got his answer in the form of his lips meeting hers in an unexpected kiss. The auburn-haired overachiever felt her eyes bloat up out of shock and surprise. The shock of course came from the fact that she never expected Ashe to pull a gesture off like that, and the surprise was from the fact that the kiss he gave her felt so calm and sweet to her. It was clear that the time inside her mind clearly stopped the longer the kiss was going on. And deep down, Annette found herself enjoying it to the very last.

Although not for long as Ashe quickly broke away from her just to whisper to Annette, "My wish was to spend this moment with you."

She felt her heart completely melt from his words, leaving Annette to blush in response and lose a bit of feeling in her legs, realizing that the boy she had been friends with for such a long time had romantic feelings for her with just one single wish. It was all in perfect timing, knowing if this moment between the two was gonna be the final time should either Ashe, Annette or the rest of the Blue Lions not escape this final war with Edelgard unscathed.

Annette, who was still speechless from that kiss, continued to relish in this sweet moment by returning Ashe's gesture with a kiss of her own. Unlike Ashe though, her kiss felt much more passionate, yet much more deeper than his by a step forward. His insides immediately melted in response to her warm sweet lips intoxicating him per second. That proved to be more than enough for Ashe to wrap his arms around Annette and cock his head to the side, taking in more of her kiss with his in return. The two of them knew that if they were to die tomorrow by the hands of Edelgard and her tyrannical Adrestian Empire, at least they would be together as boyfriend and girlfriend no matter what fate would take them next.

Right now, relishing in this sweet moment was all that mattered to both Ashe and Annette, knowing that it was a wish worth making to them among the stars.

#Fire Emblem Three Houses #Ashe X Annette #Ashe Ubert #Annette Fantine Dominic #romance #fanfiction #oneshot #FE3H #Ashenette #Azure Moon #Blue Lions

[divyansh215]

Dr. Pranab Mukherjee

Namashkar. You are listening to a Divyansh Garg podcast. You can now listen to my podcasts on Youtube and Spotify and get them in a blog format on tumblr. Use headphones for a better experience. On 31st August 2020 the Bharat Ratna awardee passed away. The 13th President of Independent India, one of the oldest congress leaders, he was Dr. Pranab Mukherjee. So let’s have a detailed look on his journey.

But before that, it often comes in our mind that why am I talking about this person? Aisa kya contribute kiya hai unhone hmari country ke liye? Why is he so important? The answer to this question is very simple. He was among the last of the Congress leaders to have worked closely with Indira Gandhi. Mukherjee’s death marks the end of an era in the Congress. He has severed our country as foreign, defense, commerce and finance minister. He was also a Deputy Chairman of the Planning Commission. Nevertheless Mukherjee served the country as its 13th President for five years from 2012 to 2017.

So let’s begin with his journey. Pranab da was born into a Bengali family at Mirati, a village in the Bengal Presidency of British India. Unke pitaji, Kamada Kinkar Mukherjee was active in the Indian independence movement and was a member of West Bengal Legislative Council as a representative of the Indian National Congress. Unki ma thi Rajlakshmi Mukherjee. Unke do siblings bhi the: older sister Annapurna and younger brother Piyush.

On growing up he earned an MA degree in Political Science & History and an LL.B. degree; both from University of Calcutta. Unki shadi Suvra Mukherjee se hui. In 1963, he became a lecturer of Political Science at Vidyasagar College and he also worked as a Journalist before entering politics. Being a lecturer and a journalist, unhe koi idea nhi tha ki vo kabhi politics me bhi apne kadam rakhenge. But destiny wanted something else.

Pranab da’s political journey started in West Bengal when he was the election agent for VK Krishna Menon, who won the election as an independent candidate. Later, He became a member of Rajya Sabha in July 1969 on a Bangla Congress ticket. And then there was no turning back. The Prime Minister of India, Indira Gandhi, had recognised Mukherjee's talents and recruited him to her party, the Indian National Congress. It was her who brought in the ‘little master’ to the Rajya Sabha as a member of the Bangla Congress. Mukherjee also became a Gandhi loyalist aur unhe Indira Gandhi ji ka "man for all seasons” bhi kaha jane laga.

Mukherjee received his first ministerial assignment with Indira Gandhi in 1973, first as junior minister of industrial development. Within two years, he was elevated as a deputy minister with independent charge of revenue and banking departments. Bombay smuggling underworld don Haji Mastan ke upar kai crackdowns lagwane ki wajah se ve boht hi jald surkhiyo me aane lage the.  

Mukherjee was active in the Indian cabinet during the controversial Internal Emergency of 1975–77. Ruling Congress politicians of the day including Mukherjee ko aksar accuse bhi kiya jata h for using extra-constitutional powers to "wreck established norms and rules of governance." In 1982, shortly after Gandhi returned to power from the post-Emergency oblivion, she appointed Mukherjee as India’s finance minister, replacing R Venkataraman.

As finance minister, Mukherjee had fiery innings. International Monetary Fund (IMF) loan ke $1.1 billion ki instalment vapis pahuchne ke sath hi unhone puri duniya ko surprise kr diya tha. A cautious reformer, he was nevertheless the first to stoke up expenditure without letting inflation get out of hand. He also opened the NRI investment window, which pioneered sweeping changes in India’s image as a destination of foreign funds.

Lekin Indira Gandhi ke assassination ke bad Mukherjee ko congress se side kr diya gya tha. Although Mukherjee was much more experienced in politics than Indira's son, Rajiv Gandhi, it was Rajiv who gained control. Mukherjee lost his position in the cabinet and was sent to manage the regional West Bengal Pradesh Congress Committee. He was considered to be Indira's likely successor and, siding with those within his party who aligned themselves against Rajiv Gandhi, Mukherjee was sidelined and eventually expelled from the mainstream.

Mukherjee's political career revived following Assassination of Rajiv Gandhi in 1991 when P. V. Narasimha Rao chose to appoint him as deputy chairman of the Indian Planning Commission and subsequently as a union cabinet minister. Mukherjee served as External Affairs Minister for the first time from 1995 to 1996 in Rao's cabinet. Mukherjee also played a pivotal role in helping the India-US civil nuclear agreement sail through despite threat of the government being toppled.

Mukherjee became Leader of the House in the Lok Sabha in 2004. Jab 2004 me Sonia Gandhi ne pm bnne se mana kr diya to ye assume kiya gya ki ab Mukherjee hi pm ki kudsi smbhalenge. However, Manmohan Singh was chosen. Though he played many important roles in Manmohan Singh’s government. He served five times as a member of Rajya Sabha and twice as a member of the Lok Sabha. He was conferred Padma Vibhusan, India’s second-highest civilian award, in 2008.

Known for his sharp memory, clarity of thought and grasp over issues, Mukherjee has the rare distinction of serving as foreign, defence, commerce and finance minister. He was also a Deputy Chairman of the Planning Commission. And finally, Mukherjee served the country as its 13th President for five years from 2012 to 2017.

Apne presidential career me unka kabhi kisi bhi political party se clash nhi hua. Such a living legend he was. His story tells us about the true meaning of struggle. Kitni bar unpr saval uthaye gaye aur na jane kitni bar unhe neeche girane ki koshish ki gayi. But his calm and focused attitude was above the world’s obligations. Itna bada life lesson hme vo aaj  deke gaye hai. And 2012 me, he got what he actually deserved. May his soul rest in peace. Dhanyavad.

Namashkar. You are listening to a Divyansh Garg podcast. You can now listen to my podcasts on Youtube and Spotify and get them in a blog format on tumblr. Use headphones for a better experience. On 31st August 2020 the Bharat Ratna awardee passed away. The 13th President of Independent India, one of the oldest congress leaders, he was Dr. Pranab Mukherjee. So let’s have a detailed look on his journey.

But before that, it often comes in our mind that why am I talking about this person? Aisa kya contribute kiya hai unhone hmari country ke liye? Why is he so important? The answer to this question is very simple. He was among the last of the Congress leaders to have worked closely with Indira Gandhi. Mukherjee’s death marks the end of an era in the Congress. He has severed our country as foreign, defense, commerce and finance minister. He was also a Deputy Chairman of the Planning Commission. Nevertheless Mukherjee served the country as its 13th President for five years from 2012 to 2017.

So let’s begin with his journey. Pranab da was born into a Bengali family at Mirati, a village in the Bengal Presidency of British India. Unke pitaji, Kamada Kinkar Mukherjee was active in the Indian independence movement and was a member of West Bengal Legislative Council as a representative of the Indian National Congress. Unki ma thi Rajlakshmi Mukherjee. Unke do siblings bhi the: older sister Annapurna and younger brother Piyush.

On growing up he earned an MA degree in Political Science & History and an LL.B. degree; both from University of Calcutta. Unki shadi Suvra Mukherjee se hui. In 1963, he became a lecturer of Political Science at Vidyasagar College and he also worked as a Journalist before entering politics. Being a lecturer and a journalist, unhe koi idea nhi tha ki vo kabhi politics me bhi apne kadam rakhenge. But destiny wanted something else.

Pranab da’s political journey started in West Bengal when he was the election agent for VK Krishna Menon, who won the election as an independent candidate. Later, He became a member of Rajya Sabha in July 1969 on a Bangla Congress ticket. And then there was no turning back. The Prime Minister of India, Indira Gandhi, had recognised Mukherjee's talents and recruited him to her party, the Indian National Congress. It was her who brought in the ‘little master’ to the Rajya Sabha as a member of the Bangla Congress. Mukherjee also became a Gandhi loyalist aur unhe Indira Gandhi ji ka "man for all seasons” bhi kaha jane laga.

Mukherjee received his first ministerial assignment with Indira Gandhi in 1973, first as junior minister of industrial development. Within two years, he was elevated as a deputy minister with independent charge of revenue and banking departments. Bombay smuggling underworld don Haji Mastan ke upar kai crackdowns lagwane ki wajah se ve boht hi jald surkhiyo me aane lage the.  

Mukherjee was active in the Indian cabinet during the controversial Internal Emergency of 1975–77. Ruling Congress politicians of the day including Mukherjee ko aksar accuse bhi kiya jata h for using extra-constitutional powers to "wreck established norms and rules of governance." In 1982, shortly after Gandhi returned to power from the post-Emergency oblivion, she appointed Mukherjee as India’s finance minister, replacing R Venkataraman.

As finance minister, Mukherjee had fiery innings. International Monetary Fund (IMF) loan ke $1.1 billion ki instalment vapis pahuchne ke sath hi unhone puri duniya ko surprise kr diya tha. A cautious reformer, he was nevertheless the first to stoke up expenditure without letting inflation get out of hand. He also opened the NRI investment window, which pioneered sweeping changes in India’s image as a destination of foreign funds.

Lekin Indira Gandhi ke assassination ke bad Mukherjee ko congress se side kr diya gya tha. Although Mukherjee was much more experienced in politics than Indira's son, Rajiv Gandhi, it was Rajiv who gained control. Mukherjee lost his position in the cabinet and was sent to manage the regional West Bengal Pradesh Congress Committee. He was considered to be Indira's likely successor and, siding with those within his party who aligned themselves against Rajiv Gandhi, Mukherjee was sidelined and eventually expelled from the mainstream.

Mukherjee's political career revived following Assassination of Rajiv Gandhi in 1991 when P. V. Narasimha Rao chose to appoint him as deputy chairman of the Indian Planning Commission and subsequently as a union cabinet minister. Mukherjee served as External Affairs Minister for the first time from 1995 to 1996 in Rao's cabinet. Mukherjee also played a pivotal role in helping the India-US civil nuclear agreement sail through despite threat of the government being toppled.

Mukherjee became Leader of the House in the Lok Sabha in 2004. Jab 2004 me Sonia Gandhi ne pm bnne se mana kr diya to ye assume kiya gya ki ab Mukherjee hi pm ki kudsi smbhalenge. However, Manmohan Singh was chosen. Though he played many important roles in Manmohan Singh’s government. He served five times as a member of Rajya Sabha and twice as a member of the Lok Sabha. He was conferred Padma Vibhusan, India’s second-highest civilian award, in 2008.

Known for his sharp memory, clarity of thought and grasp over issues, Mukherjee has the rare distinction of serving as foreign, defence, commerce and finance minister. He was also a Deputy Chairman of the Planning Commission. And finally, Mukherjee served the country as its 13th President for five years from 2012 to 2017.

Apne presidential career me unka kabhi kisi bhi political party se clash nhi hua. Such a living legend he was. His story tells us about the true meaning of struggle. Kitni bar unpr saval uthaye gaye aur na jane kitni bar unhe neeche girane ki koshish ki gayi. But his calm and focused attitude was above the world’s obligations. Itna bada life lesson hme vo aaj  deke gaye hai. And 2012 me, he got what he actually deserved. May his soul rest in peace. Dhanyavad.