#I blame my sis she made this so solid in my mind I had to write

[randaccidents]

Was it worth it?

A fic that’s not from the Shadow People AU? Apparently that's possible.

This one is still from @mine-sara-sp cause she makes the best au’s. This fic comes from her redstone update dream AU.

I would like to blame my sister for this idea.

TW: vomiting, blood

ADDITIONAL: Based on how Dealbreaker went and how no one on discord left unscarred, I am now legally required to warn people if my fics are going to kill someone. This is one of those fics that will most certainly hurt you hard. You have been warned.

Many people often overlooked him, dismissing him as simple minded. But Ren was not stupid. He noticed when the redstoners started acting out. Doc had been extremely antsy and paranoid, almost skewering him when he came to say hi. Multiple times actually. Going to Xisuma only made him more worried with how easily Xisuma dismissed everything as fine because 'it's not like anything matters'.

He was there when Grian first began stealing redstone. He had had to physically hold back Iskall more than once and divert his attention to give Grian some more time to hide. Not that it mattered one week later when he found out that Grian was too sick to move. Then it became a game of pulling Iskall away from Grian. But he refused to get too involved. Getting sick was not on his list.

At least, it wasn't until he found Cub crying in the Buttbarge. In the midst of comforting Cub and accompanying him back to Concorp lands, Ren found out the rest of the story. How Scar decided to help Grian out. How Cub stepped in to regulate Scar when he started getting sick. How he's found himself increasingly eager to take some tnt and destroy buildings. How he can't do this anymore lest he hurt anyone but they had missed some redstone in the server.

And like the bleeding heart he was, Ren offered to help clear the remaining active redstone.

The next few days were spent combing through the railway lines, bases and shopping district for any hidden redstone. It hurt to destroy his hard work, but it hurt more when he had to destroy the brains of the Stock Exchange. But it had to be done. By the end of it, all the active redstone was cleared off the server and stashed where no one in their right mind would visit. Cub had been grateful, Ren only felt a slight itch in his throat, and it was all worth it.

Except, when he went to visit TFC for a chat, he noticed the blocks worth of redstone he had in his chests, sitting unused. Anyone could come in and take them, and this whole mess would only get worse.

So, Ren set to work stealing redstone from the builders of the server, removing them from the chests and walls and hiding them somewhere off the nether tunnels. The itch developed into a cough that burned his throat, but at least the redstone was hidden, and no one knew it was him. He went back to pulling Iskall and Doc off of Grian and Scar, and it was all worth it.

Except, Ren had to keep stealing redstone from TFC and Jevin who mined them up daily.

Except, Ren saw Doc leave his base with a pickaxe, bright blue shining with enchantments.

Except, Ren knew that there was still redstone buried deep beneath the lands the hermits had settled, and everyday more was being found.

So, without telling anyone, Ren packed up his mining gear and went down into the depths of the world, determined to mine the server dry.

His first mistake was that he told no one where he was going. And everyone was so concentrated on the issue at hand that they forgot to check in on him. Who would? Ren wasn't known for redstone, he would be fine. And so he went underground, unnoticed.

His second mistake was bringing Pickscalibur along. The first block of redstone ore he found exploded into way more redstone dust than normal, the Fortune enchant working its wonders. But he needed the Mending and Efficiency enchantments to work long and fast, so he gritted his teeth and bore through the dust that flew into his eyes.

He didn't know how long he was underground, mining away at the rock before him. His limbs shook, but he didn't dare to sleep lest someone found him. His cough got worse, red coming out his throat everytime. He could smell the redstone in the bile and steadfastly scooped every bit into a shulker. His nose burned. When he could find no more, he set down a nether portal, travelling under the tunnels towards 1.14 lands. Once every trace of his passage was cleared, he set back to work looking for more redstone ore.

His third mistake was that he never stopped to rest. Not even when he had to concentrate to hold the pickaxe before him. Not when he coughed so hard that redstone was not the only thing red that came up his throat. Not when his legs gave out beneath him and he had to crawl to the next vein.

It wasn't until his shaking limbs and ruined lungs refused to work that Ren decided to call it quits. Shakily placing the last of the redstone blocks and shulkers of redstone blocks into an ender chest alongside his most precious tools, Ren broke the ender chest one last time with Pickscalibur, grasping the resulting block of obsidian close to his chest. Then, he dragged himself to a two block deep hole naturally formed out of bedrock, locking himself in with obsidian until he had only a one-block space left. Now no one could find him and shake the location of the redstone stashes out of him. Curling up on the freezing bedrock, Ren finally let himself drift.

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

He was out of food. It was so, so cold, but he couldn’t give up just yet. Not until everyone was back to normal.

His eyes burned, dust he was too pained to wipe crusting his eyes. He coughed. It seemed like he was coughing more often now.

He hoped that the patch would come soon.

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

Everything hurt. When did the grey become so red?

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

His stomach rumbled. He bit his fingers.

So cold…

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

Did anyone even know where he was?

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

Was anyone… looking for him?

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

The sound of obsidian breaking woke him. There were voices, a hand stretched down to grab him. He registered grey and red cybernetics and jerked away, breath hitching. They found him they found him they found him-

It was a while before the noises above died down. Cautiously, he unplastered himself from the floor. A sudden coughing fit sent him back to the floor, hands clutching at his chest. The floor grew redder as he coughed his lungs out.

Noises above him. Did they come back? He was too tired to lift his head to check, instead pressing himself back into the cold floor.

Someone was speaking to him. He tried to focus on the voice. The words didn’t register in his mind, but he recognised the voice.

This time, when a hand reached down to pull him up, he let them.

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

There was warmth. He grabbed the black fabric before him and curled in closer. The voices were around him now. He could feel what he was lying on bounce up and down. One voice cut through the fog in his mind.

“Ren, where did you put the redstone?”

He didn’t hear the rest of the sentence, but it probably didn’t matter. He shook his head, burying himself deeper into what he knew was someone’s chest.

“... need to burn it…”

He could feel something coming up his throat. Reluctantly, he weakly pushed himself out of the warmth to spill it on the floor, hacking.

The voices around him grew in volume. His head spun. Can’t they let him rest?

“...bring him back… rest…”

“...alright Ren?”

That sounded perfectly fine to him. Fingers finding the black fabric again, he let himself drift off.

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

The smell of food woke him. Someone was rubbing his arm. Everything around him was still splotches of colour. Something was pushed near his mouth and he gladly accepted the sustenance.

His stomach was not as happy. Feeling the rumbling roil of his stomach, he turned to the side to spit up what he just ate. Exhausted, he drifted off again.

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

The first time he woke with a clearer head, he simply lay there silently. Scar was the one who noticed him awake, silently holding his hand and coaxing him to eat.

He drifted off eventually, still too tired to stay awake for long.

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

The next time he woke, Xisuma was there. He couldn’t quite catch what Xisuma was trying to tell him, but one thing did register.

“...redstone patched… need to burn… reverse effects...”

He’d done it. He’d held out until the redstone was fixed. Now they just needed to destroy it all. Voice raspy and pained, he forced out a few words.

“Three… spawn…”

That was all he got out before he was sent into a coughing fit. He couldn’t breathe. He felt a hand petting his hair. He felt dizzy.

And then he knew nothing.

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

It took many more short wake-ups before he could get everything out.

It took even more to remove all the redstone from his enderchest.

It took many, many more for them to find where he hid the redstone in the nether. He hadn’t exactly remembered which hill he hid them under.

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

Waking up fully aware was an experience. He never thought he would miss clear lungs and clear thoughts so much. He took a deep breath of fresh air, no longer choked by red dust.

There was shuffling from across the room, and then someone was helping him sit up. He blinked, and there was a bottle of water pressed to his lips. He drank eagerly, marvelling at how clear his throat felt. Finishing the bottle, he blinked up at the person supporting him and smiled.

“Hey Doc, how’s it going?”

Doc’s only response was to envelop him in a hug. He took a deep breath of Doc’s smell, fresh ivy and water. He could feel droplets on his shirt.

“Never, ever do that again man. You were gone for two months, everyone was so worried!”

Ren hugged Doc back, sighing softly into his shoulder. Looks like Doc was back to normal. Yep, this was worth it.

#that one redstone update dream #I am kinda lazy to tag all the hermits so lets just go with #the hermits #I blame my sis she made this so solid in my mind I had to write #aight trigger tags time #blood #vomiting #my writing #yes my writing is a trigger guys #I had to physically take a break writing this it hurt so hard #I'm really sorry #Imma go rest now this took a lot out of me

[vegalocity]

Secret kisses and Touching 2, 14, 22, 23, and 44. Secret Silktea relationship, except both spider fam and Monkey fam actually know! Half of them don’t care enough to say anything (Pigsy,Tang,Spider Queen,Wukong,Syntax) while the other half wants them to reveal it when they’re ready (Min Yi,MK,Mei,Goliath,Sis) - Pixel Anon

Affection meme

49. secret kisses

2. running fingers through hair

14.putting an arm around the other’s waist

22.falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

23. carrying the other one in their arms

44.sitting on the other’s lap

this took me forever to put together because for some ungodly reason i couldn't figure out the scenario

so i decided on a little vignette compilation of sorts

--

They knew what they were doing.

Of course they knew what they were doing. It was in either of their best interests to keep this a secret. Just because the clan had stopped their crusade to take over the city and their queen had dialed down the ‘revenge’ ideas, didn’t mean there wasn’t still bad blood between his clan and Sandy’s family.

And it wasn’t too difficult, it just meant that when they were all working together for some greater threat or whatever that they’d have to be sneaky. It was easy stealth was one of Huntsman’s greatest Attributes and suspecting Blue of anything was like suspecting a small dog of knocking over a bulldozer.

It wasn’t too hard to simply keep their hands to themselves. Or at least, it wasn’t hard for Sandy, Huntsman was quickly finding his self control lacking in regard to being in such a situation with his… well, with him. But could anyone blame him? Blue was more or less the hottest guy he’d ever ran into before and he was kinda-sorta DATING him! How could he not want to climb that like a tree at all times?

Especially when he was always being so stupidly fucking charming. Sure the ‘needlessly nice’ stuff wasn’t something he particularly appreciated, but it was starting to grow on him, if only on the amount of restraint he must have to keep it up all the time.

Soooo yeah maybe he was purposefully pushing their luck a little, but in his defense he wanted to see how much desire based frustration it would take before ol’ Blue would just pin him against a wall and make him regret wondering.

--

Syntax had shooed him away from being a nuisance at his worktable, so naturally, Huntsman had to go be a nuisance at someone else’s worktable. Thankfully Sandy was far more agreeable to the company, and thankfully the bid of ‘Bugging Syntax first’ kept his alibi solid. He wasn’t just going over to see Blue he just wanted to be a louse and his normal target had already locked him out of his room. And so nobody really suspected anything when he started to peer over Sandy’s side to watch him tighten this or that thing on this or that device.

And it was pretty damn fun to see just how much of a ‘nuisance’ he could be. This particular bout resulting ih Huntsman being pressed against the car engine Blue had been working on, feeling the orange hair slide between his claws and messing up the stylized mohawk and shuddering when he felt those huge hands almost entirely encompass either of his thighs while keeping him aloft. He hissed through his teeth as he felt Blue give one of his legs a testing squeeze and rolled his hips forward a bit-

“Fish Demon? I need to get another set of eyes on these schematics or I'll actually go insane.” By the time Syntax looked up from his clipboard Sandy was working on the engine again and Huntsman was leaning against his work area and had barely had the opening to whip out one of his knives and his portable sharpener.

Though Sandy’s hair was unable to be fixed and fell to a side as he smiled at Syntax and took the offered blueprints from him.

--

He wasn’t a big fan of those domestic snatches of time, he wasn’t.

It was mostly an instinctual response, Spiders were pack bonders, so of course when his internal senses started categorizing Sandy as ‘pack’ then he’d relax without intending to while being pulled in with a hand on his waist.

Which was definitely the reason why he was curled up to Sandy’s side, the cool slick feeling of his scales strange against his more leather-like skin. That stupid instinct was the only real reason why he felt so comfortable and like he could practically fall asleep like this.

He felt Blue’s hand gently start running up and down his side and dammit that wasn’t playing fair, it wasn’t his fault that he had been having sleeping problems lately and was rapidly getting drowsy.

He could feel Blue’s hum as the world started to drift away-

“Hey Sandy what do you think- Uhhhh”

“Oh, hello Xiaotian.”

“You know you’ve got a spider on you, right?”

“Oh yeah, Looked like he was having some paranoia problems, took a bit of wheedling to get out but Huntsman here was up for like four days straight ‘till now!”

“Did… Did you slip him your sleepy tea?”

“Of course not! That would be super unethical! Also I'm pretty sure he’s still semi conscious and passively listening without any critical thought right now since he only just dozed off and would probably wake up angry if he overheard anything like that!”

“....right… so anyway-”

--

The brat knew.

Dammit he knew the brat knew. She definitely fucking knew.

He should have known better than to try anything with that Professional Snoop underfoot. But He’d had plans with Blue before having to get stuck with the brat tonight because the Queen needed Syntax’s expertise and the Sister was on shift at work and Goliath already had plans doing who knows what, and he was stuck with Minyi since he ‘didn’t have any plans’

He’d dragged his feet on the idea of cancelling with Blue, but he’d fucking done it so nobody could say he didn’t contribute to the upkeep of their clan’s youngest. It was just his luck that Sandy had been fine with coming over instead, and the brat had overheard some of the conversation and got excited about ‘Mr Sandy’ coming over to visit. The brat had insisted on stringing some of her fake flowers into his hair before he arrived, after dubbing him ‘suitably pretty’ (her words) she’d done up her own hair as similarly as she could because he certainly wasn’t helping her with her weird pre-’company is coming’ rituals.

And… Blue was a hit with the brat. He had an infinite amount of patience for the inane childish babbling, stooped low so she could string the remaining fake flowers in her possession (why did she have so many fake flowers?) into his beard, and offered to fix dinner for the lot of them (which was for the best since the brat was such a picky eater she could barely stomach some of his specialties)

And… he was not jealous of a six year old for how she was able to crawl into Blue’s lap while the lot of them watched some inane mystery show for the character drama alone since the brat called and explained the mystery within the first three minutes.

Blue was a bit awkward on the sofa, it made sense, Goliath would normally sit on the floor for how the height and width of the couch was not designed with bigger demons in mind, and Blue was considerably bigger than Goliath. So while the brat was cozy as could be in the place of honor, Huntsman was stuck perched on the arm of the couch as to not be crushed into it trying to squeeze in beside Blue.

Not that that would be a wholly unpleasant experience, but the presence of the brat made it go from tempting to awkward. Nonetheless, part of Sandy trying to get comfortable had included one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, and while it seemed the brat wasn’t paying attention, it slid down to wrap around his shoulders.

When the time came Minyi didn’t need to be told it was bed time for her, she loudly announced it herself, changed into her pajamas, and after saying goodnight to the both of them went on with a

“I am going to sleep now! And I will not be out of my room until morning so if anything were to be happening I certainly won’t know it, because I will be asleep.”

She smiled widely at Huntsman and closed her door.

Nosey little brat.

--

Tang huffed a quiet laugh as Sandy gingerly began to lift Huntsman into the air, his broken leg not quite able to be splinted just yet, let alone looked at properly. It seemed the lot of them had suffered some pretty nasty injuries from this last threat (and no doubt it would have been worse if their team and the Spider Clan hadn’t joined forces) including Tang himself despite being on the sidelines for most of it, he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated, and the cut on his forehead was still sluggishly bleeding all over the right side of his face, but compared to some of the others he was basically fine.

So once He was able to pop his arm back into place (Ouch) he took to handling cleanup with the only other ‘perfectly normal person’ here, a woman maybe a few years his junior, he’d seen her every so often with the Spider Clan (or rather, with Syntax) but he didn’t know her name.

“Do you think they actually think they’re being subtle?” Her words caught his attention and he turned to glance at the woman. She was in the middle of splinting Xiaojiao’s broken wrist and at Tang’s questioning glance, she nodded at Sandy and Huntsman. Oh!

“I’m sure Sandy thinks he’s the pinnacle of subtlety” Tang responded. He was pretty sure the ‘thing’ that had developed between their friend and the most brutal of the Spider Clan was the worst kept secret on the team since Red Son had started hanging out with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao on the weekends.

“They are so cute when you just walk in on them.” Xiaojiao said around a snicker. “Like how they jump apart like when you flip a magnet over to the matching side.”

“Does your team have a betting pool? My brother organized one for the clan, and if they do anything damning within the next month i win the pot.”

“No! Ohh man we should get one started up! Hey Pigsy! You wanna make a betting Pool for Sandy and Huntsman’s secret romance?”

“Why the hell would i want to do that?”

“Finally have dirt on Sandy after decades of him never being embarrassed about anything ever?” Tang offered with a shrug.

Pigsy thought for a moment and shrugged back before going back to fussing over Xiaotian. “Sure. Who’s bettin’ what?”

--

send me stuff!

#Silktea #Silkteashipping #Affection meme #vega writes stories too #letters to vega #Spider Queen wins the Spider Clan pot though she denies ever betting anything #but Minyi put in three sticker packs and a yoyo for her bet and she could have SWORN she saw them in the lair by Spider Queen's stuff

[iamwestiec]

fic I want to see: five futures Tony/Rhodey/Pepper deserved but never got

Hey there friend! I'm going to take advantage of the @goodintentionswipfest to finally answer this ask by posting what exists of the fic I totally never finished writing you for this prompt before I burned out real hard on writing last year. Hope you get a little bit of fun out of what's here. <3

1 - MIT meet, 100% less drama

Tony meets James-call-me-Rhodey Rhodes at MIT. In other universes, they were on campus at the same time, but the whiz kid playboy tearing up the mech-e department and local bar scene seldom crossed paths with the steady grad student getting a masters in aircraft design courtesy of the Air Force. 

In this one, they are inseparable. 

Rhodey's got a way of following his train of thought that Tony's never encountered, and his intuitive understanding of flying machines outstrips Tony's own. (Tony is determined to catch up, but Rhodey never makes him feel bad for having to. Entirely unlike Howard, he thinks, and feels disloyal for the thought.) They bounce ideas off each other and make each other sharper, better, and it's a feeling of belonging Tony never expected to find. When they build an AI - a Turing-complete AI!! - Tony jokes about them becoming parents without ever going on a date, and the look of wistful fondness on Rhodey's face is all the encouragement he needs to finally ask him on one. 

After graduation, Tony owes years to SI and Rhodey owes years to Uncle Sam, but they keep in close touch, with plans to go into business for themselves one day. Times being what they are, no one asks, and no one tells, but he and Rhodey both know that the much publicized dates with various eligible ladies are for maintaining appearances and nothing that will really come between them.

When Howard and Maria die, Rhodey must cash in every favor he has to get the leave, but he's there for the funeral. Tony is pretty sure his steadfast support is the only reason he could stand to be sober those first couple weeks. Stark men are supposed to be made of iron, but Rhodey's always been the one with a core of steel. 

Rhodey never trusts Obie much, and - continued relationship with Tony notwithstanding - Rhodey is an impeccable judge of character. A few years later, an internal audit proves his instincts right when Stane is caught laundering company assets to sell weapons on the black market. Terrified at the thought of his weapons in the wrong hands, Tony quietly begins to diversify SI's business model - clean energy, healthcare, [THIRD THING] - things that can build the world up instead of tear it down.

Eventually Tony is able to hire Rhodey away from the military to be his chief airframe designer and personal test pilot. They move out to California to oversee the autonomous search-and-rescue drones they're developing, and set up in a preposterous mansion overlooking the ocean in Malibu, with their ever growing family of bots and JARVIS to make the huge place feel full.

Despite having no qualms shout their personal AI butler and robotic lab assistants, Rhodey calls him bougie when Tony brings on a driver, Harold-call-me-Happy Hogan, and a personal assistant, one Ms. Virginia Potts. Happy's a solid driver and a cheerful guy, but Ms. Potts is a downright revelation. She's the second person he's met now who has no trouble keeping up with his mile-a-minute mind, and though her competencies lie along a different line than his or Rhodey's, he quickly realizes they are no less remarkable. He also plain likes her in an easy way he so seldom clicks with people. Tony might be a little bit smitten.

After a while he realizes Ms. Potts-call-me-Pepper (and seriously, did Tony miss a memo on alliterative nicknames?) seems smitten too, though not with him. Rhodey's no longer active duty, but old habits of discretion die hard, so she has no way of knowing when she strikes up a flirtation with the airman that he and her boss are more than just business partners. Rhodey's flustered, and Pepper's embarrassed, but Tony's always had a big heart, and he loves nothing quite so much as making the people he cares about happy. He can see the way his honeybear smiles when she's around, and it's obvious how much she lights up with him, and he's a genius, right, but he doesn't need to be to see that they'd work. So he tells them to go for it, as long as Pepper doesn't mind sharing and Rhodey doesn't mind being shared, and they look at him like he's grown a second head because what they want is all of them together.

They totally work.

2 - IM1, BUT HAPPIER?

They meet when Lt. Rhodes is assigned the Air Force liason to Stark Industries. Warned in advance, Rhodey was expecting brash, crass, and totally out of control, but what he found in Stark, Jr. was someone with a passion for machines and an excitement for invention unlike anyone he's ever met. When they realize they'd been on campus at the same time, Tony (“please, Mr. Stark was my father”) declares them the Brass Rat Pack, which makes him roll his eyes, but doesn't make a Sammy Davis, Jr. joke, which bumps him up a couple more points in Rhodey's estimation.

3 - IM2 BUT WITH SOME DAMN COMMUNICATION 

Rhodey was always going to get a suit. Tony's best friend, the best pilot he knows, AND one of the few people in military he actually still trusts? Of course. He offered Pepper one too, but he seemed to expect her to turn him down, because then he offered her the position of CEO. Insisted, really. 

So Pepper becomes the head of Stark Industries while Tony and Rhodey become Iron Man and War Machine. The military brass doesn't love having one of those suits and all of their secrets in the hands and head, respectively, of such an unpredictable element, but knowing that Colonel Rhodes is liasing most of his activities goes a long way toward quieting the grumbles. The men's joint testimony on just how far off any imitators, foreign or domestic, are from duplicating the technology convinces Congress that Team Iron Man's op-sec, while unorthodox, is effective. 

Rhodey takes some well deserved R&R and joins Tony and Pepper in Monaco. It's new still, this thing between them all, but it's good. 

4 - POST-IM2

AVENGERS FAM DAMMIT

Aliens invade New York, and Rhodey is so glad he stole that damn suit. 

5 - POST-IM3

IN WHICH WE AVOID CIVIL WAR 

RESCUE HAPPENS

Rogers and Romanoff bring down SHIELD, and Pepper is horrified to realize how close she came to being murdered by the state. After Killian, after Extremis, she knows she could be considered a threat, but seeing her name, and Tony's, and Rhodey's, on the kill list in the data dump is chilling.

+1 - After Everyone Lives

"Meguna Petunia Stark-Potts-Rhodes, out of the lab and inside for dinner!"

Morgan laughed. "Not my name, Dad - and anyway, wouldn't it be Potts-Rhodes-Stark, alphabetically?"

"You know, you'd think that, but your pops actually called dibs on the anchor leg years ago…"

"A relay's got four legs, Dad."

"What did I ever do to deserve a jock for a daughter? Tell you what, find us a Q who doesn't run screaming, and we'll consider it."

"What are we considering, Tony?"

"Morgan thinks our polycule needs to be a quadrilateral, apparently, and I'm blaming the track team. I've told her we're only considering candidates with Q last names; we're so close to a straight."

"Tony, you've never been close to straight in your life."

Mom gestures at the two bickering and pleads, "Just not another guy, please, darling, I'm outnumbered already."

"I dunno, you usually like tha-"

"Tony!" Mom and Pops shoot him identical stern looks.

Family. She wouldn't want it any other way.

If anyone made it this far, thanks for reading! @allofthefeelings I'm sorry the full fic never made its way out of my brain, but thank you for the prompt anyway! And thanks again to the Good Intentions WIP Fest!

#good intentions wipfest #bring out your dead #tony/rhodey/pepper #tony stark #james rhodes #pepper potts #westie writes

[unibrowzz]

Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part IV: The 1980s

Ah yes, the 80s. One of my favourite decades for music overall, and one of the only decades in Eurovision where I wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to change most of the songs that won, the other decade being the 2000s. 

But at least with the 80s there was more quality songs per year, whereas the 2000s was mostly drivel.

I also count the 80s as being somewhat of a turning point in the contest’s history, and by that I mean it always seemed to me like it was the decade where the UK really began to stop caring. Most people know the song that won in 1985, but nobody knows what won in 1986. Everyone knows Johnny Logan won twice, but couldn’t name his second song. Everyone knows Celine Dion competed, but can’t remember if she won or what she sang. 

That and countries also started experimenting with more modern sounds and outfits towards the end. The early 80s is just an extension of the 70s I swear. 

But that’s enough of all that, how do I find the winning songs?

1980- What’s Another Year?

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan 

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song that makes every 50something woman in the UK and Ireland all doey-eyed and rosy cheeked as they remember back to when they were a teenager watching this on TV and drooling at the lovely looking sad Irishman singing his sorrows into the microphone.  Or that’s my experience with this song anyway. Another experience is that most vintage fans I know tend to dislike this song on the grounds of it beating out [insert song here] Everyone has their favourite from 1980 since it was honestly a pretty strong year, but even though this song isn’t my first place for that year I can still clearly see why it won. See, 1980 had a lot of pop songs, so a slow, sad song like this one was bound to stand out, whether it was popular or not. Luckily for this one, it turned out to be a popular choice. Other songs wouldn’t be so lucky… Back on track though. Like I said, this is a very sad and melancholy song with sad and melancholy lyrics, which not only made it stand out in its year, but also made it stand out amongst other Eurovision songs of its time. It’s strange to think, but at this point in the contest’s history there hadn’t been a winner with lyrics so solemn and personal. See, in modern Eurovision, every other song is the artist baring their soul about their horrible ex-boyfriend, or their depression, or past abuse, or whatever, so knowing there was a period where songs like that were so rare is just… surreal to me.

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Greece tbh, I don’t mind this one

If no, what is? Greece- Anna Vissi- “Autostop”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 23rd

1981: Making Your Mind Up

Country: United Kingdom

Artist: Bucks Fizz

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the UK winner that nobody really likes, but the BBC still forces at us anyway because they’re proud they came up with a gimmick that everybody remembers. Or maybe it’s not that well remembered, but nobody would know that because we’re reminded of it every year. This song is… alright. Just alright. The first listen of this one is always the best, because after a while it just gets kind of annoying. The singing ESPECIALLY starts to grate you for a while. Even in the studio version the two girls sound unbearably shrill and whiny, and I’m not sure if that’s their fault or the songwriter’s (since if I remember correctly only one of them was a professional singer). I’m seriously convinced there’s no way for a female vocalist to pull this off without sounding terrible.  Again, this one’s perfectly fine and serviceable, but that doesn’t mask the fact it’s still the worst UK winner and the worst winner of the 1980s too. 

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Carlos Paião- “Playback”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 58th

1982: Ein Bißchen Frieden

Country: West Germany

Artist: Nicole

Language: German (Translation: “A little peace”)

Thoughts: This song gives me a really warm, nostalgic feeling, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know this one did well internationally, so it’s possible I just heard it as a kid, but given how I grew up in the early 2000s, “Eurovision is a shitty freak show full of weirdos from the USSR who gang up on the UK and don't vote for us on purpose” era Britain, that’s highly unlikely. Anyways, this is such a warm, fuzzy kind of song. It has a lovely… round-the-campfire, singalong kind of vibe, like this is meant to be sung by a load of long haired hippies with flowers in their hair and CND symbols drawn on their cheeks. And it’s… … Also kind of bland. If you’ve been reading my personal winners so far, you’ll have noticed I definitely have a soft spot for old German entries, so it’s a shame I find the one song they actually won with to be so… generic. It’s like they got tired of being unique so decided to send the same saccharine fluff everyone else was sending, and guess what, it paid off majorly, because this song was a huge hit at the time. Something about that kind of bothers me, like, out of all the entries they sent, it’s the one that’s the most “Eurovision-y” that ended up winning. And there’s something depressing in that.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? United Kingdom- Bardo- “One Step Further”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 50th

1983: Si la vie est Cadeau

Country: Luxembourg

Artist: Corinne Hermés

Language: French (Translation: “If life were a gift”)

Thoughts: You want a tip on how to stand out amongst Eurovision fans? Say you like this song. Probably won’t make you very popular, but you’ll stand out at least. I will confess, I, too, was part of the hate-wagon for this song. Like most fans I knew, I’d complain about how boring and uninteresting it was and how it, ahem, “robbed” so many other entries, and how basic it was, et cetera, et cetera. But… honestly? It’s not even that bad. Sure I had other favourites from 1983 (the ones I could stand watching anyway, the host that year was so unimaginably terrible I gave up watching halfway through. I DARE you to watch the whole thing without wanting to neck yourself), but this song gets way more hate than it deserves. I honestly don’t think this song is half as bad as I made it out to be myself, or as bad as the fandom makes it out to be. It’s got a decent melody, some solid vocals, some appealingly 80s instrumental, like there’s a lot I like here. …Until you read the lyrics and realise they’re almost as half-assed and lazy as All Kinds of Everything’s, but I digress. Did I prefer other songs from that year? Of course. Am I going to complain about this one winning? Nah. It’s alright. 

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Sweden- Carola Häggkvist- “Främling”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 41st

1984- Diggiloo, Diggiley

Country: Sweden

Artist: Herreys

Language: Swedish

Thoughts: Whenever I was a younger fan I used to describe this song as being drunk-dad-at-a-wedding-music performed by three sentient Ken dolls, and I still stand by that statement. And I don’t really know how else to describe this one. It certainly has its charm, and it’s still a likeable song, but it also feels very… vapid. Like if this song were a person, they’d be a bit of a bimbo. And I mean, the song’s about how the singer’s oh-so-happy and prancing down the street in his brand new shoes, so that’s probably a fair description. Part of me wonders if that’s down to old Eurovision songs being vapid in general or if it’s down to the schlager genre itself requiring songs to be kinda neutered and happy-go-lucky, but even though I do like this song, it does come off as being a bit bland. A bit by-the-numbers and playing-it-safe. And I don’t mind songs like that, but I’d rather they didn’t win, y’know?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Italy- Alice & Franco- “Il Treni di Tozeur”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 15th

1985- La det Swinge

Country: Norway

Artist: Bobbysocks

Language: Norwegian

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song which finally hauled Norway into first place after years of being a regular last-placer. Maybe the UK should take some notes instead of blaming Brexit. Or Russia. Or Iraq. Or anything other than their own apathy, for that matter. But this is about La det Swinge and not the UK, so what are my thoughts on it? Well it’s… It’s the kind of song I imagine my mom and aunt would sing at a wedding if they ever attended one. It’s a very fun song, a little cheesy, sure, but it’s hard to not like a song that’s this upbeat and cheery.  And yeah I know it’s because it’s schlager and that’s generally a really cheerful genre by default, I touched on that in the review above, 

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Israel

If no, what is? Israel- Yizhar Cohen- “Olé Olé”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 14th

1986- J’aime la Vie

Country: Belgium

Artist: Sandra Kim

Language: French

Thoughts: This song is an enigma because I’m an absolute slut for 80s pop, yet, for some reason, I find this song painfully average and uninteresting. Now, I’ll get it off my chest and say that 1986 was also a painfully average and uninteresting year, and most of the time I just felt myself remembering the singer more than the song, and even then I struggle to remember what some of the acts even were. It was just such a boring blur of a year I’m surprised the juries even managed to stay awake to pick a winner. And I GUESS you could argue that this song is so upbeat and peppy that it woke them up, but that doesn’t excuse how bloody generic it is. Like, this is the most generic 80s song you can imagine, and not in a good way. It feels more like stock music than an actual publicly released pop song. Had it not won, I doubt it would’ve stood out to me at all; it would’ve just faded into the background with all the other muted, 80s-coloured mush from this year. Basically, there’s a reason the singer’s age is the only thing noteworthy about this song.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Luxembourg- Sherisse Laurence- “L’amour de ma vie”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 49th

1987- Hold me Now

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan 

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the superior Johnny Logan winner.  And I’m not sure why everyone forgets this one because Mother of Mercy this song is in another league entirely compared to the other schlock Ireland’s won with. Like this is their best winner, no competition. One of their best songs overall as well. One of the best entries from the 80s, one of the best winners of the 80s, one of the best winners… Yeah, I really like this song.  I’ll admit to sleeping on this one for too long myself, always dismissing it as some boring Irish ballad to go with all the other boring Irish ballads they somehow managed to win with (we’ll get to that later), and always agreeing with people who said XYZ country (always Yugolslavia) should have won instead.  Basically I learnt the hard way to never judge a song on its country and genre. But one day I found myself in the midst of a revisiting trip, going back to winners I didn't pay much attention to, just to see if there was anything I’d missed the first time round. And something about the lyrics in this song resonated with me a lot more than I thought they would. In a strange way, it made me feel older; like I’d grown up and was able to relate to the words in a song and appreciate it more than I could when I was younger. The line “what do you say when words are not enough?” especially hits harder than it should; as someone with autism I tend to find showing emotions difficult, even in virtual conversation where I’m not using my voice or face, because… Well, what do you say when your words aren’t enough?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67): 2nd

1988- Ne Partez pas Sans Moi

Country: Switzerland 

Artist: Céline Dion 

Language: French

Thoughts: Telling people Céline Dion won this thing is a new favourite hobby of mine, just to see the confused reaction. And that’s the most interesting thing about this song because it’s… fine, I guess? It’s a perfectly serviceable 80s power ballad, but there’s no bells and whistles to make me sit up and declare it any better than just “okay”. It’s basically the ballad equivalent of J’aime la Vie from 1986, in that it’s extremely 80s and also in French, but there’s nothing to make it that memorable aside from the singer herself. And even then this isn’t the song that made her famous anyway. Even her singing doesn't make this one stand out, partially because the song doesn't do anything special with it, and partially because she just blends in with all the other good singers of this era. And that’s kinda sad to think about.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Hmmm....

If no, what is? Greece- Afroditi Frida- “Clown”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 22nd

1989- Rock Me

Country: Yugoslavia

Artist: Riva

Language: Croatian

Thoughts: So this is another song it really took me a while to get into (there’s lots of those, trust me) and one that was very briefly in my top three overall favourites. It’s slid down a few slots since then, though I would still say it’s… Somewhere in the top 15.  I don’t really have a lot to say about this one, if I’m honest. It’s just a good, fun, solid song which stood out in a very dull and ballad-saturated year, nothing more, nothing less. The lyrics are nice too, being about a bored musician who learns to love music again by teaching himself how to play pop songs to entertain his friends. That’s a unique subject and I can imagine it resonating with a lot of people who’ve fallen out with a hobby they used to love because they took it too seriously (providing they either speak Croatian or have looked up the lyrics, of course). I mean, it resonates with me at least. All in all, I just like this song for its message more than anything else.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Da Vinci- “Conquistador”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 9th

#Eurovision #mod's winner reviews #posting now because the tag will be CHAOS come 7 lmao #esc winners

[heywoodvirgin]

Borró Cassette ( Chapter 2)

Guys, writing is really not my thing, but I love Jackie so much not to try to ^^ 

Chapter 1 here ^^ 

Modern!Jackie Welles / Original Female Character 

Rated : Teens and up 

angst and fluff ahead ! 

*** 

- Medium plier.

It was the first thing he said in ten minutes or so.

Jack was under his cruiser’s wheels, hands focused on oiling some pieces of his machine’s brakes when she stepped into the garage.

For the first two weeks following their… argument, Mey avoided taking that route, instead opting for a detour that made her waste a solid thirty minutes every morning and evening. She thought avoiding places they used to share was a temporary solution, she was wrong. Every step she took in the opposite direction made her think about him longer, recalling all the hours he so generously spent teaching a slow learner like her how to ride a moto, how he’d always secured her helmet himself every time he took her for a ride, and those were many times, so many she couldn’t count anymore.

So when Mey finally decided to stop whatever childish game she was playing -not replying to his texts and calls, among others- and test her luck, she found herself standing gracelessly in the middle of his garage, blocking the last rays of sun he was using to work.

For long minutes, she stayed planted there, like a stupid scarecrow, marinating her anxiety, unable to say the word that mattered most. He noticed her, of course he did, and said nothing, just a flash of surprise in his eyes, and he was under his moto gain. It wasn’t like Jackie to act cold like that. Resentful wasn’t in the list of words to describe Jackie Welles, not even in the bottom line. He never ignored her. It felt so wrong to be in the receiving end of his spite or whatever this was. She missed the warmth of her friend; it was almost shocking now, as she realized it.  It was just one small “sorry”, but she still didn’t feel it in her, she still didn’t feel like she was the one that should say sorry. He fucked up, he should know, by now. But also, she knew that his apologies should go to the person his wrongs were directed to, not to her, if she would take her time and think.  But now, all she wanted, was a heart-to-heart talk, something she played in her mind over and over, every day during two weeks and five days and twelve hours, and here she was standing, mind blank, not even capable of uttering a simple hello.

When she finally found the guts to move and sit carefully on the sofa, and when he still didn’t react, she felt the panic, acid prickling at her skin. The sun had completely set down, last rays licking the far away mega buildings of the city, the garage lights flickered on. It was a quiet summer evening, one of few they had in the crazy city, but her neighborhood was one of the quietest, she had to admit. She liked it most of the time, but today wasn’t one of those days, it felt like the entire world went silent on her. That till he spoke.

- Medium plier.

She blinked a few times before she registered his request, moving to fetch the tool from its box, still memorizing perfectly the space around.

- Screwdriver, 4.

And it went like that for an hour or so, them moving about and working together. She was glad he offered her that physical occupation, even if it was mainly her handing him his tools and watching him sweat under his machine.  For a minute, her mind was just on the craft and she was relieved he still sounded pretty himself as soon as he opened his mouth, even if them occupying their hands didn’t prevent her mind to go racing about everything, and his too, she could tell in the way they couldn’t look each other in the eye, yet.

It was until he threw at her a wet rag to wipe her hands and she creased her nose because of the reeking petrol smell that they exchanged an amused look.

- Hey, never get used to the smell huh?

She shrugged, briefly smiling.

- So how have you been? He looked at the floor, discarding the wet rag near an old stool.

- Fine, she nodded to the floor, fighting a sudden rush of tears, trying to contain them in, in vain.

- Ven aqui.

He didn’t need to say more and she was in his arms. She didn’t remember him giving her hugs like that before, she shut her eyes, crushed against him, fisting his shirt, and he seemed to reciprocate, folding his bulk around her. He smelled like gas and sweat, but she only buried her head further in his chest. After some time like that she could feel the breath knocked off her chest and she started laughing

- Eres un idiota, you know that, she mumbled in a huff, a big idiot.

- I really shouldn’t teach you this one, but I know right, sorry hermana, I really mean it.

- Well, sorry too, she shrugged, as they let go of each other's embrace.

- Hey, no more tears, ok? Drink with me tonight?

- Sure, but just a lil', ok? She sniffed.

- Pft, aguafiestas, he grumbled, picked up two bottles of tequila and passed her one.

- So to what are we drinking tonight?

-  A la reunión! Amiga!

- A la reunión, then!

- Opening one of your expensive ones, just for me? she winced after one little gulp.

- Solo pa’ti, hermana, even if I know you’d rather go for one of your exotic stuff, tomatoes juice or something like that…

- Shut up, since when is tomatoes juice exotic, she internally face palmed.

- It is if I say so. Come on now, let’s sit, I’m beat, and starvin’.

- When aren’t you. She teased as he put his arm around her shoulder, leading her to the couch.

They sat comfortably in silence for some time.  When she finished her bottle, he was already at his third or fourth.

-You, Mimi, you won’t close the door on me anymore, huh, any door…

She could tell the alcohol started to work its way to his head. He was starting to tell her things that she could misunderstand, like only him could…

- Hey, hey, no more tequila tonight, please? She gently took the bottle from his hands. His usually warm palms were clammy and cold, shaking slightly.

- It’s a bad day, not a bad year, and even if it is, it certainly won’t be a bad life, remember, these are your own words you used to tell me.

- Si, recuerdo. He chuckled sadly.

- How can we regret something we don’t want, Huh.

- Do you, Jack? Mey’s throat was oppressed; she kept her voice low, as if afraid to hear her friend’s answers. She felt powerless, the weight of his grief falling on her chest. She knew that whatever she would say now, it wouldn’t be enough.

- What if I do Mimi, it’s done you know… it’s gone… I killed it.

- Shut, shut no, Jackie, no. If it’s someone’s fault, it should be mine, too. She softly scratched his scalp, a failed attempt to soothe him. His body was stiff with unshed tears, tension threatening to break at any moment, and she wished he would at last, cry. Let it seep out of his system. She wished he could do it with her, as tears pickled at the corners of her eyes, stinging, fat drops of salty water, falling free.

- How’s that your fault too, Mey? He turned with questioning eyes, and she found her courage failing her, as his eyes searched her face and her hand fell on his forehead. It was still hard to look him in the eyes.

- I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve been there when you were alone facing this decision I-

- You being there wouldn’t change my decision, hermana. It was already settled, and for some time now. Me and Lin, wasn’t working anyway.  

- Because you didn’t want it to work. She didn’t want to accuse him in any way, it was a statement that she and he both knew was true.

- Because I didn’t want it to work.

- Why? she asked in a little voice.

- Eh, the boxer and the super model, you believed it too?

- I- thought it was perfect, Jack, I really did.

At least for some time.

- You’re a romantic.

- Look who’s talking, she let out a teary laugh.

- But that’s not what I was talking about… I meant…

- I know what you meant, and there too, it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

The silence that followed was the heaviest Mey had ever felt between them.

- How… How did she take it?

- Surprisingly well. She’s a smart girl, Mimi. Bet that’s why she wanted us to be engaged, can’t blame her for not trying.

- She is a good woman, Jack.

- Lo sé, lo sé. Jackie said quiet, tears wetting the fabric of her dress. It was good, she thought. He still trusted her enough, enough to let her see his most vulnerable side, even after almost a month of absence, of total silence.

It was such a relief, if she let herself be honest. To find him again, broken, but still her friend who would call her hermana, offer to make dinner and end up dozing off, head in her lap.

It felt good to touch him again, too. Now in the quiet hours of the night, she could hear the cold neon lights purring, electricity running through the garage’s old wires, the tunes of whatever music he left on, that was almost muted, reached her from the furthest corner of his hideout. It smelt like motor oil and alcohol and old leather, a bit of him too, and before the knots in her stomach started to twist again, she talked herself to go and let him rest.

-Don’t you think it’s time to go and get some sleep in that fancy bed of yours? She prompted, trying to sound as light as she intended.

-Nah. Like it here more, reminds me of where I came from. ‘sides, it’s comfortable.

-Might be comfy for you, big head, but my legs are starting to get numb, so… She tried to shake his head off her lap, playfully pushing at his shoulders.

- Don’t even try, weak ass.

- That’s abuse of power!

- La niña learned to talk, too. Not bad.

- Fuck off.

- What about you going home now, huh, I’m just gonna crash here tonight. Couch’s enough comfort for my ass, for now.  He straightened up, rubbed his eyes, dusted his jeans, offered a hand for her to take.

- Or you can crash on mine. She shrugged, taking his offered hand and fighting a blush. Or not- she started when the response took a bit long to come.

- Let’s get the fuck outta here, then. And he gave her a real smile, this time.

#jackie welles cyberpunk 2077 #jackie welles #jaquito and tequila #Friends #unrequieted crush #Jackie welles deserves better #fanfic #angst #fluff #alternate universe #modern jackie welles

[nitholites]

Assuming someone in the BatFam is the end game:

It's been only a week or so since Tony figured out who Ladybug is

She's captured everyone's hearts, but has to go to Gotham soon

For help, but also because of her internship

The Stark Gala becomes a 'you better live and come back one day, Mari or I STG' party, hosted by Tony Stark, of course

She makes all the outfits of the Starks, her parents, herself, Jagged, Penny, Luka, and Kagami (the last two friends minus Chloe from Paris) and she makes extra in case someone has a wardrobe malfunction

Meanwhile, the Waynes have heard a lot about the newest Stark: MDC

Tim is a fanboy. He's found everything related to his favorite rock star's designer/niece there is to find ("I'm not obsessed! They're just super talented, and I'd like something from them! Stop laughing at me, Dick!")

Dick has no room to tease him, as both him and Jason are pretty much in the same boat

Kor'i and Mar'i love MDC, as well

Every one of the Bats are huge Jagged Stone fans

Like... Nearly rabid

(Damian, Bruce, and Alfred redact that statement)

They're invited to Tony's gala thing (he only started it to surpass the Wayne Gala, like the Lil Shite he is)

The night of the party, only Bruce and Jason go, since the rest of the bats are busy

Bruce, Jagged (who brought Fang), and Tony are all chatting in the middle of the floor, 2/3rds of the group are just talking up Marinette

Jason, meanwhile, accidentally runs into this small, adorable child who proceeds to spill her punch all over his suit

He insists it's fine, but she won't take 'no' for an answer ("I am so sorry, please let me make it up to you" "Kid, it's fine, accidents happen" "No, seriously, let me help")

There's a look in her eyes that insists she do something, and he eventually agrees

Cue to Marinette having a suit jacket that matches and fits Jason because "You look like you're the same build as Mr. Stark (she's all for joining Peter in calling Tony 'Mr. Stark' to get under his skin)"

"you know Tony?"

She shrugs, and doesn't comment anymore on it

"give me your address, and I'll bring this back when it's clean again. I'm moving to Gotham for a while soon, anyway"

He does, she doesn't realize he's a Wayne, and they part when the party ends

Cue the entire BatFam sprinting into Jason's room, chasing after a full on scream

Like, they didn't know Jason's voice could get "so high and squeaky, what the hecc?"

They pause as they see Jason litterally jumping up and down

"What the hell, Todd."

Instead of answering, he shoves the jacket in Tim's face with a shite-eating grin

It takes a moment, but Tim scowls and pulls out his wallet

When the rest of the family only look confused, Tim sighs and explains

"He got an MDC original first."

"...you had a bet on that?"

Jason freezes, eyes widening

"HOLY SH*T, I MET THE MDC! SHE WAS SO TINY, OH MY GOD, BATS, WE HAVE TO ADOPT HER!"

They're confused for a solid minute

"YOU DONT UNDERSTAND SHES AN ANGEL AND HAS BLACK HAIR AND BLUE EYES!! SHE'S OBVIOUSLY A WAYNE!"

It takes all of Bruce's willpower not to adopt her on the spot when she visits them

Like, he almost brings up adoption papers

But he knows Stark would fight tooth and nail to keep this baby

So he restrains himself

(for now)

(he swears if one of his children doesn't marry her, he's bringing the adoption papers to court)

She doesn't stay long, only meeting all the Waynes at the house and going back to her hotel

The next day, a villain goes after Mar'i, near the park/mall/something Marinette is by

Instead of becoming Ladybug, she heccin kicks arse

As Marinette

She gets both her and Mar'i out of danger without a scratch using a yo-yo of all things and meets Batman and Robin as they clean up the rest

She's all like "no, it's alright, I'm sure anyone would do the same please stop thanking me, my family's gonna kick my ass to next year for scaring them like this"

Bats comes up and takes her statement, and she happens to mention the situation in Paris

"oh, this was nothing compared to some of the Akuma I've faced" "What's an akuma?" She paled, eyes widening in shock. "You don't know? About Ladybug, Chat Noir, Ryuuko, Viperion, Queen Bee, Red Wasp, Multimouse, Hawkmoth, Mayura, Carapace, Rena Rouge, and all them?"

She explains a little, giving basic information everyone knew, then shows him the app she made a while ago

The Akuma Alert app that held much more than just akuma-related things

She leaves soon after, and Batman has a goal in mind

Within the day, Diana is furious at the lack of response towards the Paris situation

"This Ladybug was left alone for all this time?! Shame on you all, leaving my mother's successor alone!"

When Ladybug is later spotted (hehe, get it?) in Gotham, the entire BatFam finds her and gets her in touch with the League

She explains how she asked both the League and the Avengers for help, all those years ago, and was pushed aside with warnings not to send in prank calls anymore

Of course, Iron Man has already looked into it, but he's not exactly a detective and the more brains on this, the better

Meanwhile, as civilians...

The normal shipping stuff happens

With the exception that nearly every criminal in Gotham low-key adopts Marinette

They may think she's the next Wayne, but the Angel of Gotham is off limits

And not because the little Wayne chases after anyone who even looks at her wrong with a katana

Not just as Robin. As Damian

Marinette actually meets a few villains on the street

She was going to a commission, carrying some hero, vigilante, and villain themed macaroons when she got lost

(before meeting the Waynes officially, actually)

She was in a park, looking lost when Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn came up

She offered treats, and ever since she's the Angel of Gotham

Once, when on a date with her romantic interest, Killer Croc tried taking the restaurant hostage after robbing a bank

Key word: tried

Marinette calmly slipped behind him, grabbed his tail, and dragged his butt outta there

(he blames the fast French girl and the tile on the floor, which didn't let him get a good grip)

By the time Bats and the police got there, Croc was in tears as this tiny French girl lectured him about manners and interrupting dates

(the BatFam can't think of a funnier time)

When the Joker actually kidnaps her as a way to get to Batman, literally everyone rages a rescue mission

Harley, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze (Marinette reminds him of the daughter he's always wanted, with his frozen wife), Two-Face (Marinette talked philosophy with him, showing him he still had choices beyond the black and white), Killer Crock (who was impressed by the tiny French girl who threw him out of a restaurant by his tail that one time), Batman, Robin, the Teen Titans, Red Hood, Red Robin, Wonder Woman (she could feel Tikki's influence on Marinette and guessed her identity), Nightwing, all the Avengers, Red Wasp (Chloe, with the Bee Miraculous because she earned it back ages ago), Sabine (no one messed with her baby. No one), a teenage boy wielding a potato gun (who let this kid here?), Pepper, Penny (the two women were fast friends, bonding over their husbands' eccentric ways), Jagged with Fang, Audrey Bourgeois, and the entire police force storm the Joker's hideout

He didn't have a chance

Later, they admit it was kinda funny watching the small Sabine beating the crap out of the deranged clown

Fang, who was usually a puppy with scales, didn't hesitate to bite off the Joker's hand, reminiscent of Captain Hook and the Croc

Marinette's fine (or not, depending on how much angst you want in the story. It's easy to have her tourtured and nearly killed in the Joker's clutches {or actually killed and focused on angst from everyone who knew her [possible heavy Lila/class salt]} and see her move past her PTSD) and she gets home eventually

Around this time, she's made the Guardian of the Miraculous

She eventually goes back to Paris with her huge family (or everyone she thinks could keep their emotions in check)

They kick Gabriel's arse, but Adrien gets away with his mother (who was healed by Ladybug)

Possible second book

Marinette's ship becomes the Black Cat

Time skip, fiveish years later, some of Marinette's classmates see her for the first time since she left

They insult and sass her, not changed since school

Her S/O scowls and debunks them easily, defending Marinette

When they don't stop, Marinette's S/O calls Bruce, Tony, Jagged, and the rest of the League and the Avengers to destroy the morons in the class because they know how long they've waited for this moment

Mari puts her head in her hands, but doesn't stop them because she knows how long they've waited for this moment

Three hours later, the speeches and lectures aren't done yet

Lila eventually goes to Gotham or wherever Marinette is, and tries to warn the person on her arm about Marinette's 'bulling tendencies'

That gets another lecture

Or, her class gets a tour at either SI or WE, depending on when in the story you write it (could be both, and the class just doesn't learn or Tony, Pepper, and their kids were visiting WE to talk about Mari Protection Measures when they overhear it)

Lila goes off on how Mari's S/O is actually Lila's, or how she's BFFS with Batman/Iron Man/ Bruce Wayne and his kids/ Tony Stark and his kids/ the Avengers/ the Justice League

Cue the class seeing Mari

Instant bullying

The resident children and billionaire steps up, insulting and embarrassing the class while defending Mari

Lila tries to turn it around, but they're having none of that

First the kids jump at the chance to defend their little sister and/or girlfriend, then the big guns show up

At WE, it's Bruce, a highly protective Jason, and Tim, who has every single sin/mean thing/lie pulled up in a folder

It's thicker than his hand, and hard to hold

It's both in digital and physical form and sent to every single member of Mari's family- blood related or not

At SI, it's Tony and Pepper

FRIDAY steps up, too

Harley shoots Lila with the potato gun mk 3 until she leaves

The class don't know what they did wrong, but they swear to make it up just to get the scary CEOs and relatives

Also, if anyone knows the AU where Marinette was a street kid with Jason and his little sister (I can't remember who made it or what it was called, but I fell in l o v e), that could work with this one too. Jason would be so proud of his Lil sister being so famous and awesome and "how dare you let me think you were dead!! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!" "I made you worried?! You up and nearly got killed last I checked!"

Jason swore not to tell her he actually died once. He prays she never finds out.

@tired-butterfly @evil-elf16 @doggiediva13 @krispydefendorpolice @mochegato @legallyspawned @kryptored

[ask-the-party-god]

Ask The Party God - Timeline

the pre-terezi-gang timeline post is here

height references over here

hi, im jade! everyones favorite party goddess and trans doggy girl~ but you already know that! if youre reading this, it means youre interested in learning more about my reality, because paradox space is fucking weird like that and you cant really be sure all the time

as far as im aware, everything up to the point where we beat the game happened without deviations from the alpha timeline? so this is what rose has talked about as a ‘terminal timeline’, or ‘post-canon’, or whatever the hell that is supposed to mean

we got to earth-c, and i settled in the troll kingdom because trolls are cool, dave and karkat were in the neighborhood, and the caverns are close by so i can visit rose and kanaya speedily as well! i still do have my old tower out on an island, with my workshop and garden, but i almost never sleep in it, too far away and isolated from everyone...

then one day i found this old active server in the furthest ring keeping tumblr active and i thought, hey, why not have some fun? ;D

as for the others...

my darling sis june egbert! she lives in the consort kingdom, but has been thinking about relocating elsewhere lately! she went through a rough patch right after the game, unsure of what to do and full of all sorts of doubts and questions, but shes doing a lot better nowadays! specially now that terezi is back, shes been a lot more peppy and hanging around with the lalondes particularly!

rose rose rose rose~ happily married to her wife kanaya, duh, but that doesnt make her any less of a flirty cutie! a while back she got really sick for a bit, and weve been keeping an eye on her just in case it happened again, but its been all good ever since! she helps kanaya at the caverns a bunch, which makes her schedule busy busy... and you didnt hear this from me, buuuut words out on the street that she and kanaya may be warming to the idea of having a kid! <3 well see how that goes!

one cool dude~ daves a little bit of a shut-in honestly! and honestly i dont blame him? he must be tired after all the timeline and time travel shenanigans, so he spends a good chunk of his time hanging out in his and karkats house! hes kind of awkward about opening up with feelings and stuff, and ive been trying to nudge him to be more open for a while! but with all the craziness thats been going down lately, and more people coming and going and getting together, hes starting to consider things he hadnt before~ hopefully, some specific someones? ;)

janey! my uh... ecto-mom, technically, although we see each other more like cousins than anything else! she still owns crockercorp, but ever since jasprose has been around, she has been spending a lot more time at home and just hanging out with her friends, which really, sounds a lot healthier than the big business thing she had going on a while back! she enjoys teaching me baking stuff, but doesnt have much patience for my decorating skills ;p

grandpa! and grandson technically, hehe, jakes kind of a weird case, hes a mixture of a shut-in, a celebrity and an adventurer! he can spend up to weeks at a time without leaving his manor, but then hell have full weeks of interviews and hiking, and thats not to say anything of when he and dirk put out another episode or two of their dumb comedy talkshow... hes often busy with stuff, but hes still a good pal and can clear his schedule in seconds if we need him for something!

one sweet nb dude! rox really is... something else, really! fun to tag along at a party, fun to chill at home playing games, fun to talk about more serious stuff and open up with him, he really is just solid as they come! hes been hanging out a lot more with june since she got out of her depressive slump, but sometimes i wonder if junebug finds weird to get flirty with roxy, considering im pretty sure we made out in front of her at some point or two... hehehe

dirk! if daves a bit of a shut-in, hes a shut-in times two, which is weird because youd think someone stuck in post-apocalyptic earth for so long would want to hang out more? not to say he DOESNT, though! hes around jake often enough, and keeps close to jane, roxy and dave specially! we dont see each other too often, but we HAVE been messing around with robots and planning out to upgrade our respective self-bots for funsies!

aradia! we only met briefly in dreams for the longest time, but i knew already that she was a riot! she came with terezis group after she finally found vriska, and seems pretty happy just... kind of... being around and watching shenanigans ensue! i actually dont know where she lives, but she drops by occasionally, because im apparently pretty ‘fun’... cant say i disagree ;)

sollux is blind, and not dead, and WILL kick you in the shins if you keep prying about how exactly he ended up like that, which is fair enough! he spends a good chunk of his time with aradia, and im not sure if theyre dating or not...? but hes been around the other trolls a bunch! specially kanaya, apparently theyre good friends that go way back! i guess they both DO style their hair similarly, with the side spike thingies...

the other half of the dave-kat duo! swooooon~ really though, i cant remember the last time i said “dave” or “karkat” without talking about the other shortly after... buuut theyre just roomies, and hell get awkward and grumpy if you even so slightly IMPLY otherwise, despite the fact everyone knows they fall asleep leaning against each other during friday movie night! roooolling my eyes~ with the rest of the living trolls having arrived, hes been a lot more willing to go outside, which im glad for! its healthy to get some fresh air from time to time, and specially hang out with friends!

oh-la-la, miss maryam-lalonde herself! kanayas the matriarch of the caverns, and quite the busy gal, having taken it upon herself to supervise her entire species reproduction and well-being... in my opinion, she needs a good vacation from time to time, and to be less of a workaholic! >:o ive been helping her occasionally in the caverns, and as of late weve begun trying to mess around with ectobiology for some troll-human crossing experiments with... not good results so far... but hey, rome wasnt built in a day!

terezis back, yes! after spending YEARS out there looking for vriska, she managed to find her and come back, the madwoman! personally im not sure why anyone would go to such lengths for... her... but also, its not my bond, not my place to speak, she obviously really loves her a bunch! with vriska no longer lost in the middle of the furthest ring, shes started to catch up with everything going on with earth-c, and i think shes really going to like being around! specially with how much june and the rest have missed her ;)

troublemaker extraordinaire herself! shes... well, shes vriska, im pretty sure she stole that eyepatch from sollux? so you just know she up to no good already >:/ speaking of her eyepatch, im not sure WHY shes wearing it? whatever kinda wound she got, she doesnt like mentioning it, despite bragging about defeating english at every chance she gets! terezi says they found her popping in and out of consciousness in the furthest ring with some messy wounds, and that shed probably been hovering out there after the fight for years... doesnt seem to have humbled her in the slightest <.<

callieeeee! theyre super sweet and wonderful but also really shy and awkward! they live with roxy but manage to outdo dirk in terms of shut-in-ness... they also totally like roxy but is unsure about approaching those feelings considering the whole species thing and whatever, ive been trying to get them to open up for a while now! weve written fanfic together and drawn grids, so i can definitely tell theres some attraction there, even if theyre afraid of acting upon it just yet <3

jaspie is roses bane, and the one cat that made me get used to their smell enough that i dont bark at them instantly anymore! im pretty sure she crashes at janes often, and is just as outgoing and flirty as i am around earth-c parties and bars, which is saying something honestly! i wont let her dethrone me as the party god, though >:)

and finally davepeta! theyre staying with june for the time being until they can get settled around and see what they want to do here! theyve also dropped by dave and karkats a bunch, which i most certainly dont mind! i definitely appreciate some help in bringing a romantic vibe into those twos lives~ ;o

and thats about it! theres also the nannasprites and tavrosprite and arquius, but they pop by so sporadically and rarely that i dont know what theyre doing a majority of the time... we lost track of gamzee after the session so hopefully hes totally gone, and we havent heard any message from caliborn in years... and with the furthest ring broken and the black hole sealed, leaving a weird white empty space right in the middle of reality, im not sure what our chances of bringing back the other trolls are :( but still, we keep living on happily over here and having our fun slice of life ending together!

id say after everything weve gone through, we deserve a big break, dont we? hehehe <3

also, particularly important events that happen and are recorded in this blog will be tagged as timeline shenanigans!

#homestuck #party god #jade harley #timeline shenanigans #june egbert #rose lalonde #dave strider #jane crocker #jake english #roxy lalonde #dirk strider #aradia megido #sollux captor #karkat vantas #kanaya maryam #terezi pyrope #vriska serket #calliope #jasprose #davepeta

[amarantine-amirite]

Emergency, Stage Left; a Seven Little Monsters fanfiction

Summary: Six is forced to deal with an incompetent 911 operator after a classmate has a health emergency

Today was supposed to be a dream come true. Instead, it became a nightmare.

Today was, not gonna lie, the worst day I ever had. Not only did disaster strike, it did so on a day I had very much looked forward to. Our dance class was doing a spot on national TV. The music we were supposed to dance to was "For Your Eyes Only" by Sheena Easton, and the set was decked out to look like Van Gogh's "Starry Night" painting. The shorter girls wore poofy white dresses, while the larger ones (myself included) wore flowy blue outfits. The guys wore bright blue shorts with dark grey vests, which really wasn't a good look on them.

I honestly thought that this day would never come. I never thought that our ballet class would do a performance on national TV. But we did. Actually, scratch that. We almost did. We would have if things hadn’t gone horribly wrong.

I honestly can't remember how this started, but I think Anna-Grace and I got into an argument about something backstage. I don't remember what the argument was about exactly (I think it was something Star Wars related), but I do remember that she said to me: "Six, if your solution isn't part of a solution, then your problem is the problem". I couldn’t help but laugh. How could you not? It was pretty obvious that she was trying to say, "if you aren't part of the solution, you're part of the problem", but it came out so bungled that it made you giggle.

Nice. Then, with less than zero warning; she got all stiff and then she had a seizure. When I say seizure, I don’t mean a seizure where you’re just staring into space. No, I mean a seizure where you drop onto the ground.

We were all pretty freaked out, but who could blame us? It was shocking. One minute, Anna-Grace was acting normally, and the next, she was on the floor having a seizure. As jarring as watching someone have a seizure is, it’s not as catastrophic as you think. Most of the time, the seizure will stop in a few minutes. The important thing is that you put something soft under their head and make sure they don’t hurt themselves (and I know this because I was one of the few that actually paid attention during that first aid training thing they made us do at the beginning of the year). Speaking of paying attention in first aid training, you could tell who paid attention versus who didn’t, because the ones who did pay attention weren’t looking for things to stuff in Anna-Grace’s mouth so she didn’t bite her tongue off. If they’d paid any attention during the first aid training, they’d know that A.) people biting their tongues off during a seizure isn’t really a problem and B.) putting objects in the mouth of someone having a seizure doesn’t really do them a whole lot of favours.

Most of the time if someone has a seizure, it will stop on its own. This one didn’t. About 10 or so minutes in, someone (I think it was Renata) said, “OK, she’s been seizuring for about 10 minutes now. This isn’t good. One of us needs to call 911, like, now. ”

I wound up being the one who had to call 911. Holy shit, was it ever the most agonizing experience I ever had. I called, and they had me on hold for about 45 minutes. When I finally got to speak to an actual person, it turned out that the guy was practically the waiter from Fawlty Towers. “OK, hello, 911, how are you? Is nice day.”

Really? That’s how you answer a 911 call? Not “What is the nature of your emergency?” but “How are you? Is nice day.” I mean, if someone’s calling 911, then you can be more or less certain that they are not having a nice day at all. “No, no. Is not nice day.” I replied, “One of the people in my ballet class is having a seizure”

His response: “¿Que?” 

You would think that a 911 operator would have a solid grasp of English. After all, if you’re in charge of saving lives, being able to communicate effectively is of the essence. If you don’t speak English, then it really impairs your ability to do you job as a 911 operator. But no, he was a 911 operator that barely spoke English. How he even got his job was beyond me. "Somebody in my ballet class is having a seizure!" I repeated somewhat angrily, and again; he replied, "¿Que?"

"Seizure!" I repeated, "She's having a seizure!"

"Ah, si, si. Caesar!" he responded.

Finally, we were getting somewhere. He seemed to have understood that this was, indeed, and emergency. “Yes, a seizure.” I said, “Anna-Grace's seizure has gone on for almost an hour now.”

Sometimes, you actually get somewhere with something. Other times, you think you’re making progress, but you aren’t. This was one of those times. Just when I thought he understood me, he said this: “Yes, yes, Caesar. You have ID?”

“Excuse me?” I said, somewhat taken aback.

“I need to see ID if you want Caesar.”

I couldn’t believe it. He thought I was trying to order a drink. My guess was that before he was a 911 operator, he worked in a bar. He probably got fired for screwing up people’s drink orders, forcing him to take a job as a 911 operator. With that in mind, it really makes you wonder how he got his job. I mean, if you can’t be trusted to get someone’s drink order right; can you really trust them to send help to people in distress? “No! Not a Caesar!” I explained, just barely containing my anger, “A seizure! Anna-Grace has epilepsy!”

Did he get it? Nope. “I see.” he said, “Anna-Grace have Pepsi, you have Caesar.” Even after I explained the nature of the emergency to him (again), he was still convinced that I was trying to order a cocktail. “I need to see ID if you want Caesar.”

I was so frustrated. Just before our dance class went onstage for the recital, somebody had a seizure; and I have to deal with this incompetent 911 operator who’s somehow convinced that I’m trying to order a drink. I waited on hold for 45 minutes for this? It was insane. Really. Not only was I scared that Anna-Grace might die and upset that something went seriously wrong just before I got to do something that I was really looking forward to doing (and thought I never would get the chance to do), I was just so frustrated that I was forced to wait on hold (with 911, no less) and after all that, the operator was fucking incompetent. “I can't believe I have to spell this out for you, but you need to get an ambulance here, because Anna-Grace has epilepsy and she's having a seizure which has lasted for over an hour now.” I said angrily. I was not too far away from losing my temper with them. “I am not trying to order drinks!”

I might have been upset, but the operator wasn’t fazed by the situation one bit. He just stayed on the line, perfectly calm and still convinced that I was trying to order drinks. “So you no want Caesar now, you want in 1 hour?”

I was really starting to lose it now. Ever felt like you just want to jab your fist into someone’s face? That’s how I felt like when I was trying to get through to that damn 911 operator. Seriously, the whole experience was infuriating! No matter how many times I tried to explain to him that someone was having a seizure that lasted for an hour, he kept thinking that I was trying to order drinks. “I need you to send an ambulance.” I barked, “Anna-Grace has epilepsy, and is having a seizure. The seizure has been going on for over an hour now! Get! An! Ambulance! Now!!! ”

After all that, he said something that made it perfectly clear that he didn’t understand what was going on , and he never would: “¿Que?”

Before anyone could blink, the first words out of my mouth were "Are you shitting me right now!?" No one could blame me, though. This was beyond a "doesn't speak English" issue. This guy was just plain incompetent. I don't care what your native language is, you shouldn't confuse a 911 call for a cocktail order!

Thankfully, that was where the call ended. "I hang up, no keep track anymore." said the operator. Apparently, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do became too much for him to handle. "Have nice day, like on Facebook." Just like that, the line went dead.

I honestly couldn't believe what had happened. If someone had told me this had happened to them, my first thought would have been you're making this up. Not only did someone in my ballet class have a pretty serious medical emergency just before we went on stage, but I was on hold with 911 for about 45 minutes, and when I finally got to speak to a person, they confused my call for a drink order. When I tried to explain to them that no, I was not ordering a cocktail, they hung up on me.

This isn't like I'm bitching about an incompetent customer service guy. I am, genuinely, very upset that this happened. As for Anna-Grace, we haven't heard anything for sure, but I'm pretty certain that she died. I'm no expert, but if you're having a big seizure and it lasts for an hour; your chances of survival are not that good.

@the-moon-dust-writings

#writing #writers #seven little monsters #7 little monsters #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #fanfic #seven little monsters fanfiction #tw: seizure mention #tw: death

[harmonchavez4-blog]

The best ways to Be Pals With Somebody That Despises You.

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[keldae]

Drastic Measures (Chapter Twenty-One)

Night fell over Coronet City, covering the wounds left from the Cold War that hadn’t healed in the three years since the Imperial bombardment. Right now, some of those old wounds served a helpful purpose — Jonas Balkar crouched in such a scar, a crater created by any one of countless bombs, holding his breath until the Skytrooper patrol passed without seeing him. The Corellians, always a thorn in the side of the Empire, had been enough of a nuisance to Zakuul that Eternal Empire forces now roamed the streets, enforcing a harsh curfew until the Star Fortress was completed. The imposing monolith would then take over surveillance and security of the planet.

Once the coast was clear, Jonas crept across the street and through the plaza littered with old industrial structures, making his way to a rusty grate built into the wall. He tapped a code against the durasteel, and a minute later, the grate opened enough for him to slip inside. The Selonian who’d let him in gestured down the corridor with her paw. “You’re almost late. The meeting is starting.”

“Sorry, got stuck in traffic,” Jonas muttered as he slipped around the other rebel. “Thanks.” He hurried off down the old tunnel, stumbling more than once on old rubble and cursing under his breath.

He finally made it to the large underground chamber, somewhere below Axial Park. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized to the rest of the resistance cell leaders as he all but flopped onto an overturned barrel. “Skytroopers are changing their patrol routes.”

“Yeah, we noticed.” Cole Cantarus frowned under the dim, flickering lights. “My CorSec forces are scrambling to figure out the new routes. Lost two guys yesterday.”

“Zakuul’s got the entire galaxy in a blasted chokehold,” grumbled a female voice. Risha Drayen brushed a lock of dark hair out of her eyes that had escaped the messy bun at the back of her head. “And there’s still no word about Master Taerich or Agent Shan.”

“Not quite true,” Cole corrected. “Got an update from the storm system. They’ve been found, and they’re on Dantooine. Master Shan brought them in today.”

“That’s a relief,” Jonas said with a sigh. “Because the last solid intel the SIS had placed them with either Darth Imperius or Cipher Nine on Dromund Kaas. Apparently Master Taerich’s related to Imperius -- who knew?”

“… To be fair,” spoke another voice, breaking the stunned silence that had followed Jonas’ report, “Xaja has never been one for sane, reasonable plans.” The Corellian Barsen’thor, Jakar Forseti, leaned forward. The lights cast the scars on his face into stark shadows and just glinted off the hilt of the saberstaff he carried under his jacket. “And she was friendly with Imperius during the Revanite crisis. If they are related, I suppose insanity must run in the family.”

“Theron’s never been fond of logical plans either,” Jonas muttered, thinking back on his friend who had always preferred climbing through windows to walking through perfectly fine doors. “He and Master Taerich are completely meant for each other.”

“How romantic,” Risha deadpanned. “Any comm chatter about where they are now?”

“None,” spoke up the last conspirator. Bey’wan Aygo crossed his arms over his chest and stroked the fur extending from his chin. “If the Republic got so much as a whisper as to where they are, you know Saresh would be going after them -- whispers they won’t be getting from us.” He glanced at Jonas, got an agreeing nod, and continued speaking. “Fortunately for them, most of the chatter has concerned the contract put out for Imperius and Cipher Nine.”

“As if we didn’t have enough with just Zakuul and the Republic involved.” Jonas sighed and looked up at the roof of the cavern. “Wonderful. Thunder hasn’t issued any new orders?”

“Stay on alert; keep pissing off the Zaks; and if Dantooine is compromised, we haul ass to get people out of there alive.” Cole shrugged. “The usual.”

“I thought Thunder was supposed to be keeping the Imps from getting involved in all this,” Bey’wan muttered. “Guess they ran out of influence when Imperius and Nine jumped in anyway. Of course, if Imperius is Master Xaja’s brother, I don’t blame him for getting involved.”

“It wouldn’t be the greatest surprise revelation I’ve heard during this entire war and rebellion,” Jakar muttered. “The Green Jedi have heard nothing regarding Xaja or Theron, or the hunt for Imperius and Nine.”

“That’s because the Green Jedi have their heads so far up their asses, it’s a miracle they can hear anything,” Risha retorted.

Jakar’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but before he could say anything, Bey’wan quickly interrupted. “Does anyone know what the status of the Republic’s manhunt for them is?”

“My contact in the SIS says Saresh is ready to tear planets apart, looking for them,” Jonas answered. “Especially after Supreme Commander Malcom resigned his post and walked out. Our reporting suggests he’s on Alderaan, possibly working with the storm system. And the rumor is that he’s Theron’s biological father.”

“… That does make things complicated,” Jakar said flatly. “Any news from the other cells?”

“Tatooine managed a decent hit against Zakuul,” Cole reported, “according to Captain Korin. He took down one of the Star Fortress towers, and is planning to infiltrate the Fortress skeleton itself to find a weakness. He might be getting Imperius to help, since he just arrived to the cell after escaping Dromund Kaas. Zakuul hasn’t retaliated yet, which is surprising.”

“Probably because Arcann’s hyper-focused on finding Master Taerich and Agent Shan,” Risha said. “One rebel strike probably isn’t more than a blip on his radar.”

“Hopefully he gets distracted by the Empire’s involvement in all of this and doesn’t find them under their current rock,” Jonas muttered. “They’re not stupid -- they have to know they can’t stay in one place. With any luck, they’ll be long gone from the Enclave by the time the Zaks think to look there.” He knew the odds weren’t high, but for his friend, and for the Jedi that Jakar claimed as one of his own friends, he desperately wanted to hold onto that hope.

“That’s a long shot at best,” Jakar said quietly. He offered a taut smile, but his eyes were shaded with worry.

After spending the better part of a standard month running across the galaxy and hiding from unfriendly eyes, even if she had been with her family or Theron the entire time, Xaja finally started to feel like the galaxy was stabilizing under her feet as she immersed herself in the hidden Jedi Enclave. Never minding that this was a rough network of chambers hidden in abandoned kinrath tunnels, with none of the trappings of the Tython Temple, or the constant sense of readiness among the rebel Jedi hidden here — simply the atmosphere of being among other members of the Order was a soothing balm to Xaja’s stressed spirit, especially after the corrupting darkness of Dromund Kaas. As she walked through the tunnels with Kira, quietly catching up with each other, she almost felt at home.

If one discounted the lack of personal possessions, or the constant patrols and monitoring of comms relays, or the paranoid suspicion of most of the other Jedi.

“You found Doc on Rishi?” Kira asked as the two Jedi paced through an old chamber, their voices and bootsteps echoing softly off the walls. “We all got split up during the war, never found out what happened to him. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Or he was last time I checked,” Xaja nodded, sidestepping to avoid a collision with a dark-haired half-Miraluka woman she vaguely remembered from Tython. “The last I’ve heard, there was still a notice out for his capture, so I’m assuming he’s still fine.” She tilted her head to study Kira — at close range now, she could see the constant tension in her former Padawan’s face, even in the caves’ dim light, and the dark bags under her eyes. “He didn’t know what happened to any of you though. What happened?”

“A lot of it’s a blur,” Kira admitted. “For the first months, it was just fighting and trying to stay alive. I went back to Tython, wound up helping some of the Padawans there go into hiding before Zakuul found the Temple. After the Republic surrendered, I started hearing rumours of a resistance network building across the entire galaxy — Empire, Republic, Hutt Space, you name it. Myself and the rest of the Jedi who still wanted to fight came out here. It kinda started out as a halfway house for injured Jedi running from the Zaks, but then we started picking up more and more able-bodied Force users, even a couple of Sith. Thunder established contact with us early on, and Master Satele’s been checking in on us.”

“I’m glad you’re okay and survived all of that.” Xaja squeezed Kira’s arm and got a smile from the younger Jedi. “Have you heard anything about the others?”

“Nothing about Scourge. He just kinda dropped off the face of the galaxy not long after the invasion. And like I said, I lost track of Doc early on. But Rusk joined the resistance too, after the siege ended.”

Xaja blinked. “He did?”

“Yeah. We get updates fairly regularly.” Kira grinned. “Your brother comes by sometimes, and your dad’s dropped in once or twice, both times for supply or intel drops. Korin let Guss and Corso stay here -- Guss so he could train with the Force again, and Corso because, well… we needed a token non-Jedi or non-Forcie person to interact with the rest of the planet for us.”

Reanden hadn’t mentioned travelling to the other resistance cells or seeing Kira, although Xaja supposed that her father had had a few too many things on his mind to tell her about this. “When was Korin last here?”

“About two months ago, give or take?” Kira’s shoulders raised in a shrug. “He’s also resistance, running between all the cells and assorted drop points.” She paused. “He won’t admit it, but I strongly suspect he stole Tee-Seven off of Coruscant.”

“That asshole,” Xaja muttered. “He better not be corrupting my droid.” Kira snickered in agreement, and for a few minutes there was only the sounds of their footsteps.

Kira finally spoke again, her voice soft and subdued. “We watched that ship disintegrate. Korin did, too, while he was guarding us and following us back to Coruscant. How the hells did you survive it?”

“I don’t know.” Xaja shook her head, frowning. “I was unconscious when the Zaks somehow captured Marr and myself. I woke up en route to Zakuul.” She felt a tired smile tug at her lips. “Long story short, Marr and I got hauled up in front of Vitiate wearing a new meatsuit—”

“What?!” Kira’s face drained pale, even in the dim light. “But how the—? He— Revan— Ziost—!”

“I don’t know either. But Marr and I… we could tell it was him. Nobody else in the galaxy feels that evil.” Xaja scowled. “He killed Marr when he refused to kneel, then after I mouthed off at him and called him a microscopically-endowed gizka-blowing coward—” Kira laughed at that. “— then he told Arcann to kill me. Arcann freed me instead and attacked his father, and when I had the chance… I took it.”

“Good,” Kira growled. “That bastard can die a thousand times over for what he did to us, and the rest of the galaxy. Still doesn’t explain how you were dead for over two years though.”

“Oh, that? The Force-damned son of a bitch told the guards that I was an assassin sent to kill his father and had me thrown in carbonite,” Xaja answered, with a flippancy she didn’t feel. She felt sick to her stomach again, remembering the terror of the minutes between being thrown back by the wave of the Force tearing out of Vitiate’s latest body and being dragged into the carbonite chamber, screaming and fighting every step of the way, to no avail…

The bond warmed as Theron nudged her, sensing her fear. Xaja made herself take a breath to calm herself before pushing a small burst of reassurance at him. Okay. Memories. She immediately felt his worry and a cold anger under the surface, and nudged at him again. Okay now. You saved me. The worry shifted into relief and love as Theron finally relaxed, satisfied that she was all right for the moment.

“And Agent Superhero saved the day by somehow finding you in the Spire.” Kira shook her head. “Would love to know how he knew where you were. Everyone was convinced you were dead.” Xaja felt a burst of sadness from her Padawan in the Force. “Korin and I… after we got back to Coruscant, we went and told him what had happened, figured he deserved to know directly instead of through reports. He…” Kira sighed. “Theron didn’t take it well. You know that face people make when they want to scream or cry, but they just can’t, and everything just kinda shuts down? He just… crumpled.”

Oh, that hurt, she thought, to know how badly Theron had taken her loss. For a second, an image flashed in Xaja’s mind of Theron falling to his knees in his small Coruscant apartment, the spy facade on his face shattering to show anguish as he crumpled in on himself, unable to cope with the pain. Xaja closed her eyes against the burning sensation she could feel, and reached back along their bond with the strongest wave of love and comfort that she could muster. She could feel Theron losing his breath at the overwhelming sensation before he pushed back at her with a burst of love for her. That nearly did make the tears come — she had to blink away the moisture in her eyes.

“Huh, that was weird.” Kira had her head tilted at Xaja, quirking an eyebrow at her former mentor as she nudged at the Force around them. “I knew you two were a thing before… y’know… but did you have a bond like that before?”

“No, this is a recent development.” Xaja looked around the corridor, making sure they were alone, before lowering her voice. “I accidentally formed a bond with him on Rishi, right before we found out I was dying of complications from the carbonite poisoning.” She gestured for Kira to remain quiet when the taller woman’s eyes flashed wide in horror, then continued. “My other brother managed to get me medical treatment on Dromund Kaas, but it affected my Force connection. My dad took us to Voss, and the healers did a ritual on us that strengthened the  bond, making it deeper and permanent.”

“For what, emotional connection?” Kira frowned in confusion.

“No, but it’s a side bonus.” Xaja raked her hands through her hair. “What I tell you does not leave this corridor.” At Kira’s nod, she continued. “The bond’s main purpose was twofold: Half of it was restoring my Force connection, and half of it…” She sighed, feeling sick again despite Theron’s reassuring presence in her mind. His wasn’t the only presence she could feel. “… I picked up a mind parasite on Zakuul… one you’re familiar with. The bond keeps him suppressed so he can’t possess me.”

She watched as Kira’s expressions and Force-signature shifted from confused to horrified to furious to steely determination, all within the space of a few seconds. “Good. Let me know if you need any more help with dealing with that brain fucker.” The younger Jedi reached up and squeezed the other’s arms. “You didn’t abandon me when you knew what was in my head, Master. I’m not ditching you now. We’ll deal with this bastard, one way or another.”

The Killik tunnels that connected Organa Castle to the hidden resistance base in the Juran Mountains still made Jace shudder every time he walked through them. No matter that he had been assured by their diplomat Joiner, a former Imperial named Vector Hyllus, that the Killiks were allies and meant no harm, it was still unnerving to walk through the insectoid lairs, stepping around the large, violet eggs, trying to not breathe in the scents. And that was before taking into account the unnatural black eyes and clicking noises of the human Joiners who had become part of the nest. Jace wasn’t too proud to say he was having disturbing dreams about the Joiners.

But the important thing was that if they creeped him out, they terrified the Zakuulans. There were four Zakuulan Joiners, wandering around in the rags of what used to be their uniforms. The rest of the Eternal Empire’s forces seemed to have given up, for fear of being brainwashed themselves.

Jace walked into a substantial cavern, deep under the mountains. Once, this had been an extension of the Killik hive — now it was part of the resistance network that spread through a significant chunk of the planet, extending as far as Rist territory. The warring houses of Alderaan could unify against a common enemy, it seemed. They weren’t the only ones — numerous clusters of mingled Imperials and Republic personnel filled the cave. Jace blinked when he saw a Hutt on one platform, emphatically gesturing to a monitor in front of him as he tried to explain something to a Republic scientist with a longsuffering expression on his face, then shook his head and kept walking. Apparently the Hutts had their own grudges against Zakuul.

He made his way to another platform, feeling the conversation fade to a hush at his presence. “You wanted to speak to me?” he rumbled, looking at the resistance personnel before him.

“We did.” Vector offered Jace a shallow bow, then turned back to the computer behind him. “We have received intelligence from the storm system, Commander. Agent Shan and Master Taerich have been located.”

Jace’s heart jumped into his throat. “Where?”

“Dantooine.” Doctor Kimble turned to Jace, looking visibly relieved for the first time since he had arrived on Darth Imperius’ ship, having fled Dromund Kaas in a hurry. “The Grand Master found them and brought them to the resistance cell there.”

Satele found them? Jace felt a knot in his back loosen with that good news. “That’s good to hear.” He suddenly paused. “Weren’t they with Cipher Nine before? Is he in the cell too?”

“No.” The only woman on the platform, a Corellian Jedi named Mairen Bel Iblis, barely glanced up from the computer she was working on. “I received a notification from my station chief on Nar Shaddaa. He’s picked up Cipher Nine, who says he doesn’t know where Master Shan took Master Taerich and Agent Shan.” Judging from how the redhaired Jedi-turned-spy pursed her lips, Jace guessed she didn’t fully buy Cipher Nine’s story — not that he could blame her. Imperial spies were devious and talented liars, and Cipher Nine, being one of the oldest agents in the field, was something of a legend for how damned good he was at his job. It was a pity that he couldn’t be persuaded to defect. “Apparently he left them on Voss and went to cause a distraction.”

“Voss?” Jace crossed his arms over his broad chest in thought. “Why would they go to Voss?”

He was answered with a chorus of silent shrugs. “It’s difficult to say,” Doctor Lokin said, stroking his beard. Looking much like a kind grandfather, he should have felt trustworthy — but Jace couldn’t forget that he was retired Imperial Intelligence, and one of Cipher Nine’s comrades. Assets who lived to be that old were dangerous. “Master Taerich was ill from the side effects of carbonite poisoning, one of which was all but losing her access to the Force. She may have gone to Voss for healing when our medical treatment didn’t restore her connection.”

“Or they may have wished to stay out of sight of the rest of the galaxy,” Vector suggested. “Voss is neutral territory still, and expansive enough that they could have tried to hide.”

“Two humans on Voss would stick out like Hutts in the Senate,” Doctor Kimble muttered. “I’m with Lokin on this one. Xa— Master Taerich probably went for healing. But what was Master Shan doing there?”

Jace shrugged. He’d known Satele the longest, and he couldn’t identify what would have led her to the alien planet. The Zakuulan Knight, Senya Tirall, had said Satele planned on going there, but she hadn’t known why. “Takes a Jedi to understand a Jedi,” he grunted, offering a rueful smile in apology when Mairen cut her eyes at him. “Senya Tirall knew Master Shan’s destination, but not the reason. Perhaps Master Shan was in contact with Cipher Nine?” That thought made him feel sick… but Cipher Nine wouldn’t have been the first Imperial Satele had worked with. Jace wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

Lokin and Vector looked at each other before shrugging. “It’s possible,” Lokin finally said. “Agent Taerich never shared all of his contacts with us, and always likes to have a card or three up his sleeve. I believe he’s worked with Jedi before as well — why, I didn’t see fit to ask. In this instance though, he probably would have put feelers out for a Jedi where his daughter was concerned.”

“Hmmm.” The idea of the infamous Cipher Nine as a caring father to a Jedi, worried about her continued safety, seemed incongruous to his reputation as a ruthless Imperial saboteur and assassin. Grimacing, Jace dismissed the possibility from his thoughts for the time being. “Perhaps Master Taerich or Master Shan can give us answers directly.” He turned to march off the platform with a purposeful stride. “Send word for my ship to be prepped. I’m heading to Dantooine to get some answers.” It wasn’t enough to hear through the storm system that Theron was alive and safe for the moment — he needed to see his son, dammit, and probably tear him a new one for scaring him with that blasted suicide note.

So consumed by concern for his own son, he didn’t notice Master Bel Iblis’ brow creasing in a frown as she watched him walk away. She sighed, then grimaced before turning back to her console and the data that awaited her.

It wasn’t a difficult task to find information on Xaja Taerich; Lord Kallig, also known as Darth Imperius; or Reanden Taerich, the mysterious agent previously known only as Cipher Nine after the Cold War. All three members of the family seemed to have made large ripples wherever they went, with Master Taerich having made the largest metaphorical splash. Kovach was impressed — he had seen the Jedi in action and knew she was damned good at her job, but hadn’t realized that she had been a certifiable badass since she was only a Jedi Padawan, taking down a powerful Dark Jedi on Tython, who had defeated even her Master.

Of course, trying to nail down the story of their origins was difficult.

So far, he had found Reanden Taerich’s academy records from his early recruitment into the Imperial Military, noting he had almost immediately been snatched up by Imperial Intelligence. Top marks, top aptitude scores, a reputation for ruthlessness and clever improvisation in the field, and a small flag for his apparent hatred of Force-users. Kovach supposed he couldn’t blame the older agent — he would hate Force-users too if he’d had the Wrath for a brother. But his records had been wiped clean shortly thereafter, with only the odd mention of a classified mission for a few years before it appeared he dropped off the map entirely for five years. He resurfaced on Hutta only a few years ago, under orders from Keeper to ensure Nem’ro allied with the Empire. There was no mention of a wife or lover, nor of any children, in the Imperial archives.

If Imperius is his son, then he should have been flagged as Force-sensitive at birth and registered with the Korriban Academy, Kovach mused. Taerich must have gone back and erased the data to keep his children hidden. On a whim, he still ran a search for Sorand Taerich, and got nothing. Xaja Taerich’s only results were of an Imperial prisoner record, and a hit notice for her head after she assassinated the Emperor.

He frowned as he accessed Korriban’s records, looking for the recruit who would become Darth Imperius. But of course, the boy had been brought to the Academy as a fifteen-year-old slave, and had said almost nothing about his origins. Even the name he had used (when not being addressed as ‘slave’ by Harkun) had only been “Rand.” The Sith Lord who had plucked the human out of the slave pens hadn’t known where he had come from — she had just informed the traders holding him that he would be going with her, and killed the first one to object.

But the Sith said that the boy claimed the slavers had killed his father in front of him. It was why he had embraced the Dark Side to kill in revenge. Kovach frowned — was Cipher Nine actually Imperius’ father? Or had the teenager been mistaken?

He shook his head and opened up another screen, slicing into Republic archives. No mention of Reanden Taerich or Sorand Taerich here either, but Xaja Taerich had plenty of results. He sighed as he scrolled through HoloNet report after report about the legendary Jedi Knight who had killed Darth Angral, convinced Lord Scourge to defect; led the Jedi forces on Corellia; assassinated the Emperor; killed Grand Moff Kilran; fought and won against Revan himself… had personally put Kovach in an armlock and driven her knee into his back until he had confessed to Theron Shan who he was truly working for. He’d never forgiven her for that. His back still ached where she had knelt on him, driving all one hundred pounds of her body weight into his kidneys and growling angry threats into his ear.

He shook his head and skimmed past the public reports of the Jedi’s heroism. No birth certificate — perhaps she hadn’t been born as a Republic citizen. Her identicard had no homeworld listed, nor parents or living kin. He frowned, then sliced into the Jedi Archives, grateful that Saresh had made the Order keep their records open to the Republic. Here, he found the legal document of custody transferal, signed by her mother when she was handed over to the Jedi Order. Why didn’t her father sign the form as well? Did he not know about his daughter being handed over? But at least now there was a name for the mother — Airna Taerich, with no evidence of a maiden name, and a classified name for her husband.

An idea suddenly struck Kovach’s mind, and he grinned as he accessed the SIS’s archives again with his own credentials. Theron Shan’s files had been made accessible when he was identified as a person of interest in Master Taerich’s escape from Zakuul. He wasn’t too interested in looking for the rogue agent’s own backstory — he wanted what Theron had compiled on Taerich before recruiting her for the Korriban attack. Despite his half-baked execution plans, Theron had always been meticulous in his research for big operations like that.

He was briefly surprised to note that Captain Korin, the privateer who had joined the op as well, had no files under Theron’s stack of research. Perhaps Theron had wiped that data? But he left Master Taerich’s up — she was legally dead, after all, and there was no reason to hide her identity. He shrugged and turned his attention to the Jedi’s file, silently thanking Theron for doing his work for him.

Training records… service records… Oh, a Sacking survivor. Kovach almost felt pity for the Jedi at that. Trained by Yvaine Allende and Orgus Din, both deceased… Oh, that’s interesting. The Green Jedi of Corellia claimed that she was the child of one of their own and therefore Corellian, despite a reported birth world of Lavisar. Airna Taerich, were you a Corellian Jedi? Then why was your child given to Coruscant?

He accessed Corellian citizenship records and grinned. Jackpot. Airna Drallig had been a Corellian Jedi, and had been about the right age to be Xaja Taerich and Sorand Taerich’s mother. But she had reportedly left Corellia less than a year before her daughter’s birth, seduced by an Imperial spy, and had died in Imperial space a decade ago. At least now we have the mother identified — and she’s no longer a concern. He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his hand over his chin. Well, my little red haired Jedi, how were you and Imperius connected before Ziost?

He cross-referenced the data on Taerich and Imperius, and nodded when he saw they had wound up working together on Manaan, and then on Rakata Prime, and again on Rishi and Yavin IV. He raised an eyebrow when he saw they had been a part of the respective attacks on Korriban and Tython, and in the reclamation battles. And Cipher Nine was working with them… did you know they were your children, Agent?

Captain Korin had been a part of that entire gong show as well. As far as Kovach was concerned, the snarky, flirtatious smuggler was a person of interest. He ran a search through the SIS databases again, and raised an eyebrow. None of Theron’s research was there… but Korin’s name came up frequently in other records. He had earned both the respect and the hatred of several crime groups, it seemed, including the infamous Rogun the Butcher. On a whim, Kovach accessed the compiled data from Rogun’s slicers and felt his jaw drop. Rogun had managed to access the most information on Korin while hunting the spacer down… including a homeworld of Lavisar, a mention of a deceased mother and missing brother, and two listed surnames. The spacer frequently used Korin Drallig to get around, but there was a mention within the archives of Korin Taerich.

You can’t be… it’s too much of a coincidence. Kovach looked back into Lavisarian records, accessing files from before the small planet had been overtaken by the Empire. No official marriage certificates, but there was a census record of one Reanden Taerich and Airna Taerich, and three birth certificates — one for a daughter who was reported deceased months later in a speeder accident, and two for sons, reported missing after their mother’s death at the hands of raiders. Xaja Taerich, Korin Taerich, Sorand Taerich. This entire family is ridiculous.

Kovach immediately compiled the necessary data and made two copies of the files. One was sent to Darth Vowrawn, as per the Sith Lord’s directions — the other was encrypted and sent to Saresh. She would want to know this information.

The Eternal Fleet ship lurked just outside of Dantooine’s immediate orbit. Yes, this was where Satele Shan’s ship had gone — they had arrived just in time to see the Defender fly into the atmosphere. “Why would the former Grand Master of the Jedi Order go to a planet that her Order abandoned earlier in the war?” The Knight-Captain paced through the bridge, frowning in thought.

“After leaving the same planet where Cipher Nine is reputed to have taken the assassin and the terrorist.” The blue holo figure of one of the Overwatch overseers crossed his arms. “Interesting that a Jedi Master and an Imperial spy should be in league.”

“What updates are there from the other ship?”

“The Phantom was tracked to Nar Shaddaa, but I suspect your other ship lost it and became confused with another vessel. The ship that our people on the surface apprehended was the Duchess, a private civilian ship owned by a gambler, and not the Shadow. The ship was still searched, but it had come in from Corellia, and there were no signs of any passengers — merely the captain, her first mate, and a droid they seem to have modelled after our own, SCORPIO.” The overseer started pacing over the holotransmitter. “And when our agents investigated the Shrine of Healing on Voss, they found evidence that Shan and Taerich had been there, but had departed swiftly.”

“Could Cipher Nine have changed his ship’s identity?” The Knight-Captain frowned as she mulled over the options.

“Unlikely. Such a task would be nearly impossible, especially that quickly. And he was nowhere to be seen on the ship, even after performing a bioscan.” The overseer stopped pacing for a moment. “We will continue to look for the Shadow and Cipher Nine, but that is not your concern. If Master Shan is returning to a planet that the Jedi have historically had a claim to, perhaps the Order did not abandon their enclaves as initially reported.”

“You think the Order still has a presence on Dantooine?”

“I would place money on it. And if Master Shan is fleeing there, perhaps she is attempting to hide the assassin there, at least. Taerich was also a member of the Order and would try to hide among her own people.”

The Knight-Captain nodded, thoughts of glory for being the one to capture one of the terrible Outlanders flitting through her mind. “What are your orders?”

“Search the planet until you find whatever hole the Jedi are hiding in, look for Taerich and Shan, and then burn it to the ground. Take Master Shan alive — we will have answers from her.”

#drastic measures #shit just got real #more of Clan Taerich's backstory than you ever wanted to know! #meanwhile on Corellia... #Jonas strikes again! #friend's OCs #Jakar belongs to a friend of mine #and actually is Xaja's RP'verse bestie #you know Mairen had to rock up in here too ;) #Kovach you bastard #and yes #Xaja absolutely DID call Valkorion a microscopically-endowed gizka-blowing coward #anyone who needs TWO empires is clearly compensating for a lot #sneaky people are sneaky #Jace is gonna do things! #the plot thickens! #DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN #Clan Taerich be crazy #Kira might have the fun job later of telling her master that she's been doing said master's brother on the sly for the last two years #during all those supply drops #and stuff

[terinangel]

Day 1 Nyx Ulric Week

Day 1 - Galahdan Way

Prompt: Braids and Tattoos (mainly braids here)

Rating: Teen

Main Ship: none

Words: 930

Summery: This is a part of a longer work that I’m writing, where Nyx gets sent back in time to change the outcome of the Prophecy of Light.

After finally being released from the Hospital, Nyx finds himself contemplating his past life, and his time in the Beyond.

It was late when the thought came to him.

They were all in Libs’ apartment. Crowe and Libs had sandwiched him on the couch. Pelna was on the floor, leaning back against his legs. They were supposed to be watching some horrible old movie, something so bad it was funny, but it went mostly ignored. Instead, Crowe was telling them about her mission, Pelna was describing how Libs had pissed off Drautos, Libs was getting back at Pelna by telling Crowe about their friend’s latest dating fail, and Nyx…

Nyx’s eyes wandered over to his memorial. To all the pictures of his mom and sister that he’s managed to save from home. He thought of them, waiting for him again in the Beyond. And the words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d made a decision.

“I want to take my braids out.”

The movie seemed almost obnoxiously loud in the sudden silence.

“Nyx,” Crowe prompted after a while. He took a slow breath.

“My mourning braids. I want to take them out.”

Crowe and Pelna looked shocked. Libs just looked thoughtful.

“You sure?” his best friend finally asked.

Nyx swallowed, feeling a lump form in his throat. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Why now?” They all turned to look at Pelna. “I don’t blame you for being ready to move on, just… why now?”

Nyx looked down at his hands, at the scars he now bore. “You guys know my heart stopped a couple times when,” he waved his left hand, “this happened. I think… I know I touched the Beyond.” He heard their breaths catch, felt them all tense up. The half truth felt like ashes in his mouth, but he pushed on. “I saw them. And the next time I see them… I don’t want to be mourning them. They… they said that I could, that they wouldn’t mind if I took them out.” He fidgeted with his fingers slightly as his friends all stared at him, and shrugged. “But hey,” he said in a lighter tone of voice, “at least I know Great-Grandma won’t haunt my ass for giving Grandma Altius the Sacred Family Recipes now.”

Crowe, at least, let out a small laugh at that. “You’d have been struck dead years ago if she was pissed, Hero.” She got up and nudged Pelna’s leg with her foot. “C’mon, you two switch. I’ll grab some scissors. Libs, you start redoing Nyx’s braids so they look somewhat presentable, ok?”

Nyx started to object - he was not a child, he could do his own damn braids! - when Pelna yanked on his legs, and Libs shoved on his back, and suddenly he was landing hard on his ass. He rolled his eyes at their laughter, kicking out at Pelna petulantly until he felt Libs’ fingers start carding through his hair. He leaned back, relaxing into the feeling of his best friend undoing his braids, something normally reserved for family. This was nice, he thought. It was better than how they’d been treating him all day, like he was going to fall apart. As different as this was from last time, it felt normal. Crowe came back, scissors in hand, and Libertus started redoing his mourning braids for the last time.

The last time. Nyx didn’t think the thought would hit him like it did. He felt that lump in his throat from before come back with a vengeance, accompanied by burning in his eyes. He was really doing this. He was really going to- to cut -

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but Pelna was suddenly pressed against one side, Crowe resting a hand on his scarred shoulder, and Nyx realized that Libs had stopped at some point. “I’m fine,” he said, hating how damn wrung out his voice sounded already. “I’m fine, really. I want this. I want…”

Libs grasped his other shoulder for a moment before finishing with his second braid. “We know, hero.” A couple movements had the base of the braids tied off, so they wouldn’t unravel once they were cut. He took the scissors from Crowe, taking one of the braids in hand.

Mom, Nyx thought as the solid snip almost seemed to echo in the tiny apartment. He didn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry, damn it. He had done his mourning. They had said so themselves. He could move on.

It was ok to move on.

Libs handed over the first braid to him, but hesitated to take up the second. Selena. The tears did start falling when Libs finally made the cut for his sister’s mourning braid. His sis. His beautiful little sister, who he couldn’t save, who had met him in the Beyond with joy and laughter and forgiveness he’d never let himself feel. His sister, who he had left behind again, because he couldn’t stand for the ending his King had been given. I’m sorry, Selena, he thought as Libs handed the braid over to him. He turned the braids over in his hand, trying to burn into his mind what they looked like now that they weren’t attached to him. His friends gave him some room to get up as he stood and carefully placed them before his memorial.

He felt Libs come up behind him and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll head out of the City, next time I’ve got a day,” he said. “Find a nice spot to bury them.”

“Yeah,” Nyx agreed, and let his best friend guide him back to the couch.

I’ll see you all again, when the Dawn returns.

#nyxulricweek #fanfiction #my fanfiction #nyx ulric

[tarithenurse]

In defense of Asgard (7/?)

Wordcount: 2178

Warnings: Language, some violence, fluff (”Keep reading” because of length)

A/N: Thanks for sticking with this so far! I’m trying to write the last chapter atm, which is a smut-fest, but keep getting distracted by other things too.

Reader’s PoV

[Y/N] is trying her best to look calm, forcing her pace to resemble a leisurely yet determined saunter, until she reaches the door to the admiral’s cabin (finding it had been easy enough after a curt chat with a lieutenant). Straightening up, she checks that nothing betrays her disguise even if her body and eyes are itching in protest of the unnatural colour scheme, that she’s adopted to move around the ship freely. Looking like the ensign that normally is tasked with chaperoning [Y/N] around is not comfortable. Then she knocks. She can see his lazy reaction, see how the admiral’s chest rises and falls with the release of a sigh before he gets to his feet and heads for the door.

“Yes?” The glare is not much friendlier than when he has faced her in the cell.

Licking the lips for a bit of moisture, [Y/N] salutes the way she has seen his subordinates do. “Pardon the intrusion, sir.” She fights to keep the voice even and professional. “I was hoping to discuss recent observations of the prisoner.”

The admiral motions for her to enter, closing the door behind them both, before he crosses the room and takes a seat in a recliner next to a low table with a glass and a metal container which he grabs to pour himself more to drink, emptying it. The thing looks heavy, sturdy. Not having been offered a seat, [Y/N] remains on her feet, sweeping her eyes over the surroundings for a sign of any weapons. There. On a hook by the foot end of the bunk is the belt with gun and the blasted taser-staff. Too far for him to reach quickly.

“What observations?” The Sovereign prompts, forcing her to face him.

“I believe the prisoner is responsible for clogging the lavatories, sir.” The only response is a subtle arching of the brow. “Not only is it more reasonable to expect, that she would try to sabotage anything she could, rather than one of us doing it, but it fits with the timing as well.”

She had not expected the force with which the admiral jumps to his feet, yelling at her: “Are you saying I’M WRONG?! That I DON’T have CONTROL over my own PRISONERS?!” Spit is flying from his mouth and veins a throbbing on the man’s neck and temple. Then, just as sudden, he takes a calming breath and steps back. “But tell me, since you believe, that you know so much, just how would she manage such a thing? Each blockage in the plumbing has been made with spray foam. Any theories as to how she should have gotten hold of that and smuggled it with her?”

That’s why they haven’t blamed me yet. “I believe, she smuggles it in her body…if I may show you?”

He nods as if it’s only to humour the young ensign but pays more attention as she unzips the uniform jacket and grabs the metal carafe. It feels like lead or solid gold, even if it’s much sturdier. Explaining exactly how [Y/N] has been doing it, but not showing, she steps closer a bit at a time before seemingly preparing to illustrate it on herself…but instead of pressing the cold metal to her abdomen and forcing it up under the ribs, she swings hard and fast, landing a dazing blow to his skull.

By the time the admiral reawakens, he finds himself tied up on the floor, the recognizable face of a dangerously calm prisoner inches from his. [Y/N] is exchanged her own borrowed uniform for his, leaving him underdressed. The next thing he discovers is the taser-staff that’s caressing his limbs, already sending tiny sparks from the overcharge into him with a crackling sound.

“You!” The responding smile is broad and too cold for his comfort. “How did –?”

[Y/N] shushes him. “I doubt you’d believe me even if I did explain…” The rod comes to rest at his neck, and she knows he sees how the violet has taken over her irises completely. “Besides, you aren’t worth the time it would take to explain it. I just wanted your toy.”

Pushing the button, she almost feels sorry for not enjoying the view of him squirming in agony for several seconds before stopping the electric current, allowing him to slump on the floor.

“Don’t…p-please!” He’s gasping, and tears are streaming down his face. “I’ll tell you everything!”

The smile dances across her lips. “Oh, thank you.”

…

Loki’s PoV

They were expecting the Sovereign cruiser to be moving at top speed towards its destination instead it was hanging immobile in the wastes near a broken, planetless moon. Loki glances over Sif’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen that are showing the results of the ongoing scan of the enemy vessel.

“There,” the queen points to a section near the belly of the ship, “very few life signs, and an access hatch we can use to gain entry.”

Fandral is already on it, bringing the M-ship (courtesy of the Ravager Stakar Ogord) into position mere feet from the cruiser’s hull. With a button, tethers are fired to connect the two ships and form the frame of a temporary air lock. It takes little effort for Loki to conjure a copy of himself on the other side of the metal, and both the copy and the real prince leers at the sight of the empty space that leads on to a darkened corridor. Facing the locking mechanism of the hatch, he is pleased to see how easy this is going to be. Ten minutes later, the real Loki is standing side by side with the Warriors Three, softly discussing where to go, until they are interrupted by Sif’s voice rings out to them to hurry up or she will go instead of one of the men, and since none of them want to sit out (least of all Loki), they head into the maze in the hopes of finding a console with an overview of the ship’s interior.

…

“This is –“

“Gross!” Volstagg finishes Fandral’s sentence.

None of the men would normally complain about getting dirty during combat, but they need to hide for a moment to allow approaching Sovereign to pass without discovering the intrusion…unfortunately the hiding spot had turned out to be the trash compactor. It is a smelly place, with gunk sticking to the walls and fat orloni are scurrying out of the reach of the sudden intruders. Loki is scanning the dimly lit room, when his eyes fall on a bit of clothing that does not belong to any of the fiends on board. Walking over, he stoops to pick up a pair of leather trousers. His knuckles are turning white as he clutches the soft object and his hands are shaking, because all the horrible reasons as to why [Y/N]’s clothing has been discarded is running though his mind. None of his comrades dare say a word, they merely watch him with pained expressions in their faces as he turns the attire around.

“No blood.” Perhaps it is meant as a reassurance to himself, when Loki voices the observation.

Magically spying into the long corridor, he signals for the others to go when he finds it empty. As they hurry along, the conjurer sends out eyes and ears in all directions, passing unhindered through walls and ceilings, to locate the reason for their presence. The insurgents do not have to walk far before finding odd scenarios mostly consisting of incapacitated or even killed Sovereign, all of them tugged away neatly in sleeping quarters or storage units to ensure that they are not easily discovered by passers by.

They hear the struggle of combat before they see it. Ignoring the whispered pleas from his friends, Loki sprints towards the sound, daggers at the ready and only vaguely aware that the others are following him closely. Skidding around the corner, he quickly takes in the scene to evaluate the options. A sliding door is moving furtively back and forth in its tracks, jammed open by the lifeless body of a sovereign commander. On the other side of the doorstep are more bodies, those most of these seem to merely be stunned, lying on the floor or awkwardly propped up against the engines of the ship. The only light sources are the yellow glare shining through the grid floor and the red flashes from a soundless alarm system, and the hellish gloom leaves most of the face of a figure in darkness as it examines the controls on one of the large engineer consoles for the propulsions. Despite the ill fitting, blue uniform, this is no Sovereign.

“Hi guys.” [Y/N] smiles deviously over the shoulder before pulling a lever. “What’re you doing here?”

The four men exchange glances that somehow sends them into a fit of laughter.

“We are here to rescue you, my flower” Loki can’t hide a grin of his own, “yet, it appears you have everything under control.”

As she moves to her husband, Hogun steps over to see what the woman has been doing, but the prince does not care about anything else now that the couple is reunited. It feels good to have [Y/N] in his arms, to breathe in her scent as he buries his face in the soft curls.

At the console, Fandral has joined the stoic friend. “My friends,” the blond’s voice sounds urgent, “we may want to abandon this vessel presently, lest we wish to perish.”

“It’s working?!” Breaking free of the embrace, [Y/N] studies the meters and lights. “I don’t know the way to the emergency pods, so how did you get here?

It takes little time to explain, and soon the five of them are hurrying back the way the men had come. They are only a few hundred meters from the hatch leading back to the M-ship when the earsplitting cacophony of alarms start blaring, accompanied by flashes of light and the prerecorded warning of imminent engine failure. Freeing a rod from her belt, [Y/N] keeps running, only once pausing to jab the item through a door opening, through which a stunned Sovereign tumbles to the ground before Fandral.

“Turn left.” Volstagg guides.

A jarring shudder travels through the cruiser, setting off new warnings of fire and pressure loss. Extending his will, Loki conjures a copy of himself inside the cockpit of the borrowed ship, making Sif jump by the sudden appearance. Explaining the situation takes little time, and the queen has prepared all she can by the time the would-be rescuers and former prisoner board the Ravager vessel, severing the pathway and the grappling cables behind them. In the nick of time. From the cockpit, the Asgardians can see the billowing flames and debris erupt through the hull of the cruiser, but thankfully Sif is already maneuvering the M-ship out of harm’s reach.

Now that the running has ended, Loki has taken a seat on a crude bench near the back of the bridge and pulled [Y/N] close to his chest, altering between caresses and frantic attempts to ensure, that she is unharmed.

“I’m fine, love,” she soothes, “they were more civilized than I’d expected.”

“We thought they had taken you prisoner.” The husband mutters.

Joining in on the conversation, Volstagg ambles towards them. “Indeed. What happened?”

Agreeing to explain everything in greater detail when they are back on Asgard, [Y/N] sketches the series of events leading up to her capture (confirming what Heimdall already had told) as well as the ploy to sabotage the ship until she had gained sufficient knowledge to find the way on her own. Loki’s heart swells with pride, when he listens to the trickeries, she has performed. It explains the male admiral uniform she is wearing.

Hogun, who rarely says much, finally speaks up. “Bear with me, m’lady, when I ask…by sabotaging the engines, you were hoping to render the ship inoperable?”

“Yes. Maybe even blow it up, but I don’t know much about those things.” She had been successful in both.

“How, then, were you planning to escape?” The Vanir’s words bring the attention of anyone to a muddy detail. “The Sovereign never invest in escape pods.”

For a brief moment, [Y/N]’s face is buried at her husband’s shoulder, making it impossible to read her expression. “That wasn’t the best discovery, I admit.” Looking anywhere but at them, she appears to blush. “Uhmm…turned out they had a fleet of Omnicrafts with them, so…yeah…I was gonna try stealing one of those.”

Taking charge of the conversation, she explains the reason the captors kept her alive and how she used the immense pride of the admiral (and his wish to make a good impression to the High Priestess) to her own advantage. Slowly, her voice becomes slower and her head rests heavier on Loki’s shoulder. Cradling her in his arms, he gets to his feet and carries her towards one of the questionable bunks on a lower deck, where he remains with her.

#fan writing #fanfic #loki fanfic #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel #MCU #AU #oc #writing #escapism #sovereign #lady sif #Warriors three

[quietpagan]

TH Under Sunlight, ch 5

Barbara did not keep wine or any alcohol that wasn’t for medical purposes in the house after her one regrettable binge four years ago, when James first left. She wasn’t a heavy drinker in any way – she hardly even drank socially – but when everything became overwhelming the temptation to just let all her worries float down a river of wine was mighty strong.

And hot damn was it powerful now.

Trolls.

So trolls were a thing.

Her son had twenty stitches in his leg because of trolls and they all wanted him and her to visit them in their magical troll-land with swords and trolls and it already sounded like an alcohol-induced dream, except that she was distinctly and distressingly sober.

It had taken a long time to get Jim to go to bed, even though he was tired after a long night and day being poked and prodded at the hospital. But Barbara needed to speak with her three visitors, and she wanted to do it without her young son listening.

The three trolls were quietly murmuring to themselves when she came back downstairs, some of her furniture shifted and the curtains drawn over every window. The biggest one noticed her, but didn’t give away that she was watching them, and she observed for a minute, taking in their differing physiologies and personalities.

Kanjigar, it was clear, did not want any part of this, but he looked like he was duty-bound to go along anyway. Barbara wasn’t sure what his part was – was he a bodyguard? A soldier? Who else would parade around in a glowing suit of armor? He deferred to Blinky at the moment but Barbara had the notion that he was only doing so out of respect for the other troll, especially since Blinky had introduced him as ‘Master’ Kanjigar.

The big one, the behemoth AAARRRGGHH, was the one who put Barbara the most at ease, once they had finally all simmered down enough to give him a proper introduction. He’d knocked into the bookshelf and hit his head against the ceiling more than once, but his huge hand was gentle on Blinky’s shoulder and he smiled with his whole face. Barbara wasn’t sure about his unusual speech – possibly a head injury, possibly just difficulty with a second language. He’d had the least to say, but he gave off the warmest presence.

But Blinky, now.

Blinky seemed the most concerned about Jim’s wellbeing, but he had also chosen to take her son in secret into a dangerous troll population without thinking about the possible consequences. Jim clearly adored the troll, but for someone with so many eyes he was a bit of a blind idiot.

But he had taken responsibility for his actions, and seemed relieved at not having to keep himself and his companions a secret from Barbara. She knew that he had put himself in danger of punishment in keeping his friendship with Jim, and he had been prepared to accept her conditions as well as respect the possibly of her banishing him forever from visiting Jim. Out of the three trolls, Barbara felt that her son was safest around Blinky.

But that didn’t mean that she actually trusted any of them with her son.

Barbara marched up to the group, which separated when she approached. She ignored Kanjigar and AAARRRGGHH’s huge mass, and stopped mere inches away from Blinky, who leaned back to avoid the finger she stabbed at his face.

“If my son ever gets hurt on your watch again, you can be sure that I will learn everything about troll anatomy and use it against you. I’ve already identified four easy targets on your body and I will hit every one of them.”

Barbara had to stalk forward as Blinky stepped backward.

“I assure you, you vicious harpy, violence is unnecessary! I wish no more for any harm to come to young Jim than you do!”

“And I would appreciate it if you would stop threatening my trolls,” said Kanjigar dryly. “Their safety is my duty, and I will protect them from you if I have to.”

I’ve got two possible targets on you, Barbara thought viciously, picking out his exposed eyes and unarmored groin, though she was reluctant to say it out loud. He did, after all, have a sword strapped to his back, and she was only beginning her krav maga classes.

She turned away from him, unable to think of anything civil to say. His protective abilities were seriously overestimated if he thought that putting a nine-year-old in an armory was a solid idea.

“Your restraint and understanding, as it is, is admirable,” murmured Blinky when she looked back at him. “After what you have discovered this evening, I am admittedly surprised that you have not, as you humans say, ‘given us the boot’.”

Barbara smiled ruefully and gently squeezed between him and Blinky.

“Let me make you a cup of tea,” she said. “Make yourselves comfortable, because we need to talk.”

As she puttered around the kitchen she watched the trolls from under her lashes. AAARRRGGHH pushed her table and chairs out of the way so that he could settle comfortably on the floor, while Blinky sat down in the armchair. Given that he had apparently spent the whole day in the house, Barbara wasn’t surprised that he was the most comfortable.

Kanjigar didn’t sit, but stood near the wall, occasionally walking around the room, looking at her books and the photographs in the hallway.

She put four cups of tea on a tray and marched into the living room, passing the cups to everyone before sitting down on the couch, closest to Blinky. Kanjigar looked like he wasn’t sure what to do with the miniscule teacup in his gigantic gloves, while AAARRRGGHH promptly ate his, saucer and all. Blinky sipped on his like a normal person, and she gestured for him to begin negotiations.

Of all the things Barbara imagined she’d go through in her divorce, she never thought she’d be arranging visitation rights for a troll.

There was a sudden BUMP against the floor above them, and Barbara stamped her foot.

“James Lake Jr, go back to bed this instant!” A quick, one-legged hop echoed through the ceiling, and Jim’s bedroom door shut. Kanjigar chuckled quietly.

“I can see why you like the boy, Blinkous.” The six-eyed troll grinned.

“He does grow on a person. After even a day, I would consider him a good friend.”

 It was difficult to say whether or not the human woman thought that that was a good thing. Her face was surprisingly difficult to read at times, although Kanjigar admittedly had not spent enough time in the company of humans so as to learn how to read them.

He knew that she was distrustful and he could not blame her. He could imagine what the situation looked like under her eyes: three enormous monsters, leading her son into danger. If the roles were reversed, and Draal were the one in danger, he would…

…do nothing, as he had sworn to do. His son could not rely on him, and he had made it that way deliberately. Sooner or later, Bular would end up killing him, and he couldn’t risk Draal coming to the same end because of his father’s duty.

But Jim was a small child, son to a human woman who did not bear the responsibility of protecting her entire people.

…Or did she?

Kanjigar realized suddenly that having a human acquaintance could be incredibly useful; she could go where he could not. She could keep an eye out for Changeling activity. She could be the key to getting a leg up on Bular.

Suddenly the idea of making friends with this human wasn’t nearly as bad.

This could also make her and her son’s introduction to Trollmarket significantly less difficult, if they spun it to Vendel that she was his new contact. But one thing had to be done first.

Kanjigar drew another gaggletack out of his pocket, to Blinky’s indignant cry.

“Lady Barabara, would you mind holding onto this for a moment – “

“Master Kanjigar!”

The gaggletack did nothing, but it was his job to check. He hadn’t told anyone about the Changelings in Arcadia yet, to avoid a panic, but it was a constant concern for him. He wasn’t sure who exactly to trust anymore, and he couldn’t just smack every troll in the Heartstone with a gaggletack, not if he wanted to keep everyone calm for now.

But it did ease his mind to make sure that Jim and his mother were completely human.

The human woman waved the gaggletack around for a moment, and Kanjigar was suddenly very aware that he had just handed a violent woman a heavy piece of iron. He took it back before she felt the urge to use it.

“What was that for?” Blinky chuckled nervously.

“Oh, heh, that. Is. Just a simple troll custom,” he said quickly, “a left-over from the tenth century, where trolls would hand a horseshoe to a new acquaintance as a gesture of sharing the luck of the household – “ “Forgot that bit,” AAARRRGGHH muttered with a grin, earning a thrown glare from Blinky.

“It is a totem,” Kanjigar said. “It ensures that you are not a Changeling, the specifics of which I will go into on another night. For now, I believe we are overdue in Trollmarket.”

It couldn’t be past midnight, but he was eager to go on patrol and the longer they stayed out, the harder it would be to get AAARRRGGHH and Blinky back into Trollmarket without drawing the attention of Bular.

“Well, you’re welcome to leave,” said Barbara, standing impatiently. “But I’m not finished with Blinky.”

The troll in question looked rather unhappy at the notion of being the singular point of the woman’s attention, and Kanjigar wasn’t happy himself with her continued control of the conversation. But he wasn’t ready to reveal to Barbara why the night was dangerous, not yet. She needed time to process, and to simmer her temper. He would visit her another evening, and tell her his proposition.

“I am unsure what else to say,” Blinky admit. “Our continued friendship with Jim is at your prerogative. But may I suggest: we do not limit the relationship to just the whelp? Though my face still hurts from your previous assault, you have proven to not just be swift of arm but of wit as well. Our friendship with Jim does not have to come with the exclusion of his mother.” Barbara smiled softly, and Kanjigar knew that she was struck. Blinky’s gentle manner and quiet sincerity had charmed many a violent heart, as evidenced by the behemoth sitting beside him.

“Both of us care about Jim,” he continued gently. “He is all the better for our cooperation and friendship.” Just on the edge of hearing, there was another muffled thud on the floor above, followed by a quiet ‘ow’.

Both Barbara and Blinky were up in an instant. Blinky was closest to the stairs but Barbara’s long legs overstepped him, and he was forced to stomp after her. Kanjigar didn’t follow for a moment, but looked over at AAARRRGGHH, who happily munched on Barbara’s wooden tray now that she couldn’t see.

“What are your thoughts on this, old friend?”

AAARRRGGHH examined the dwelling with practiced eyes, his ears pricked to the concerned conversation upstairs. “Blinky never wanted kids,” he said. Kanjigar narrowed his eyes. Even after centuries of knowing the two, he still wasn’t quite sure what exactly their relationship entailed. They were unusually close, even for the closest of friends, but he had never seen anything that definitely indicated something other. Certainly nothing that would have precluded the desire to raise a child together, although – if either troll were to do so, Kanjigar could never envision one doing so without the other.

“Likes Jim. If Blinky wants family, Jim family.”

He struggled for a moment, and then gave up on English. “I’ve never seen him act parental before, but he cares about the whelp. I’ll support him. Jim is a good kid.”

Kanjigar nodded, bending an ear to the muted words of said troll on the floor above, chastising the child for sneaking out of bed at the detriment of his own health. Both Blinky and Barbara were assuring the boy that no friendships had been dissolved and no trolls had been banished from the house. The boy uttered a ‘goodnight’ to both adults.

Having one of his trolls proclaim himself in all but words the father of a human whelp was a complication and situation that Kanjigar had never anticipated on experiencing. Much less from Blinky.

As long as nobody got hit with a crutch again, he would be happy.

Stepping carefully up the stairs, he witnessed what seemed to be the peaceful closing of negotiations.

“It is past time for us to return,” Blinky was saying. Kanjigar was extremely bemused to see Barbara put her hand upon his arm.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I guess tomorrow night will be okay?”

“Quite agreeable,” the troll replied. They both noticed Kanjigar watching them from halfway up the stairs. “Shall we, Master Kanjigar?” AAARRRGGHH did not seem surprised to see Blinky and Barbara chatting amiably, and Kanjigar respected his lead, falling once more to the shadows as they left the house with the promise to return. Barbara waved them out, the light from the house illuminating the open doorway, but just as the door closed he saw the remains of conflict in her eyes.

“Please tell me I haven’t made a huge mistake,” he heard her mutter, just as darkness once more reigned the night.

 A/N: Barbara was surprisingly gung-ho about Jim hanging around with Strickler and inviting his ‘guidance counselor’ into his house, for such a protective parent. From personal experience I’m a little nervous about teachers taking such special interest in their students, but perhaps Arcadia is a relatively safe and trusting town. Poor Barbara, having to mediate an agreement to give a strange troll the self-chosen role of ‘new dad’.

Also, there are two people you don’t want to piss off: the people who serve you food, and the people who serve you medicine. Doctors and nurses know where everything hurts the most and what exactly will trigger it in just the right way.

Very tiny nod to the book at first, if you can spot it. Book!AAARRRGGHH!!! had a rock embedded into her head by Gunmar the Asshole, causing her not-so-eloquent speech.

I am so prepared for Barbara and Blinky to be besties, but Barbara’s got a little distrust to get through first. She’s also very difficult to write. Little tip: when you’re stuck, make something unexpected happen or change the POV. That’s why we heard Jim sneaking around upstairs, the change to Kanjigar’s POV, and Jim falling and hurting himself. If you can’t think of a way to continue what you wrote, don’t. Interrupt your writing and go on from there.

Personally, Kanjigar is not my favorite. I know that he deeply loves his son, but I don’t agree with his decision to cut Draal out of his life, and we – and Barbara – will definitely be exploring that. As for his decision to make Barbara a contact, we’ve seen him be very resourceful and willing to use people when he thought it necessary.

I told you the BLAAARRRGGHHY ship would be up to interpretation, and it still is. Two bros can raise a kid together, you don’t know their life.

Also can be found on ffn and AO3

#trollhunters #drabble #under sunlight #blinky #aaarrrgghh #barbara lake #kanjigar

[ask-de-writer]

SURPRISE PARTY!

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SURPRISE PARTY!

2896 words : MLP Fan Fiction

Commissioned by ask-the-chan-family

The tale is set in the Alternate Universe of Thomas the Writer.  Celestia wants to throw a surprise party to celebrate the many heroic magical battles that Thomas has fought to save Equestria.  Thomas’ sister Nova, a demon, finds out about the party and sets out to wreck it.

© 2016 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 01/03/16

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.  The commissioner has the right to post it, make copies on or in other mediums and distribute it, so long as it is done without charge.

Tumblr exemption: Blog holding users of Tumblr.com may reblog and post this work provided that the entire title and copyright block remains intact with all links included and is displayed at the head of the work.  

Fan art, cosplay or other fan activity is actively encouraged.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Celestia was looking out from the balcony of the castle at the panorama of Canterlot and Equestria spread out below.  Beside her, her recently added Daughter in Law, Dashie adjusted her glasses and stared out, too.  The view eventually faded out into the purple of distance at the horizon.  The lands and towns between them and the horizon made an impressive vista.

Celestia said quietly, “I love your father, Thomas, Dashie.  I know that a lot of very highly placed ponies were really upset when we got married.”

Dashie nickered her amusement and pointed out, “They would have been upset, no matter WHO you chose! At least, when you picked dad, you got one of the two most powerful wizards of the realm as a husband!”

Celestia nodded, the playful breeze catching her incredible mane of delicate hues.  “That is true, Dashie.  Thomas has been instrumental in saving the Realm many times. You have too, a time or two.  So has De Writer.”

Dashie chuckled at a memory.  “Speaking of De Writer, If he offers it, NEVER take any tea from him!”

“Why not, Dashie?”

“You know that De Writer is a master of traveling to other dimensions, don’t you?”

“Certainly.”

“He found dad a new tea, a while ago. He got it from the bottom of a deep ocean trench.”

Incredulous, Celestia exclaimed, “TEA? From a deep ocean trench?”

“Yes.  He gave it to dad.  Dad brewed a little of it.”

“What happened, Dashie?”

“It grew tentacles that tried to gab dad!  Dad took a sharp knife and chopped them off!  He diced them and fried them up in soy and garlic.  He drank the tea while he ate the fried tentacles.”

“My goodness!”

“Yep.  Now, when he gets hungry for seafood, he just brews up a little of the tea!”

They both laughed at the notion.

Celestia chortled, “That sounds like my Thommy-Wommy!

“He is not really afraid of anything, is he?”

Dashie went serious and cleaned her glasses as she replied, “Not much, I will give you that.  The most important thing is that when he is afraid, he does not run.  He faces it and figures out how to win.  And then he does.”

Celestia nodded slowly.  “That is it. He is a true hero.  That is how he has saved our realm so often.

“I would like to throw a party for him but his birthday is so far off.”

Dashie agreed, “It is, but birthdays are not the only reasons to hold parties!  We could hold one to celebrate his many courageous deeds!”

Celestia grinned as she agreed, “YES! Let’s do it!  A surprise party for my Thommy-Wommy!”

From a corner of the room, behind some drapes a red-eyed shadow chuckled.  “A surprise party for that upstart Thomas?  Perhaps we should make it a family affair.  I must go and tell his sister, Nova about this!”  Count Nogoodny sneaked quietly away as the two mares discussed what the party should be like.

Nova, Thomas’ sister and a daughter to the Demon Queen Aurora, listened carefully to Count Nogoodny’s account.  She was in her common and unthreatening form as an earth pony.  Her ears twitched and her eyes slitted as she thought through Count Nogoodny’s story of the meeting on the balcony.

“Just the party about Thomas’ courage?  Is that ALL that they talked about?”

He grumped, “All that is important! The only other thing that they talked about was De Writer and his crazy teas!  Nonsense about them being dangerous or something!”

Her voice gone deadly calm, Nova asked, “Deadly?”

Nogoodny snorted, “Utterly unbelievable!  One grows tentacles when it is brewed.  That was just an example.  Dashie said that they were all like that, one way or another!”

Nova smiled.  It was the kind of smile that has been known to freeze glaciers solid.

Waking Luna in mid morning is never easy.  She was making it no easier, today!  She hoofed a big fluffy pillow over her ears, clamped her eyes shut and snapped, “Whatever you want, NO!  I want to sleep!”

Celestia was about to say more when Dashie snickered, “NO to whatever we want?  Great!  We want you to sleep!”

Luna stuck her royal head out of the pile of blankets and demanded, “What is it you want, smart ass?”

Dashie gestured for silence to Celestia.  “We want to hold a party for Thomas!  Everybody knows that you are the best cook in Equestria.  We are going to want a big cake, maybe several tiers, with frosting figures to show dad’s famous exploits in saving the Kingdom.”

Luna’s curiosity piqued, and the flattery (which was true) about her cooking, she started to think. Eyes squinted in concentration, she pointed out, “It would have been good to have a few days to prepare for this.  Still … OK, I’ll do it.”

Celestia smiled, “Great!  I knew that we could count on you, Sis!”

Dashie nodded, “Right.  Luna, we know that Nova is in the castle.  Be sure to keep her out of the kitchen while you are working!”

Luna chuckled.  “De Writer is almost as dangerous!  He and Thomas are almost inseparable.  He likes to bring his tea to events.  I have never heard of one of those teas that is really safe!”

Dashie nodded ruefully.  “I know. How well I know!”

With Luna now busy in the kitchen and some castle staff busy preparing one of the ballrooms for the party, Celestia and Dashie were relaxing in her royal quarters.  There was a knock at the door.  Before they could answer it, the doors were pushed open and a familiar earth pony mare trotted right in!

Her eyes slitted in suspicion, Dashie demanded, “What are you doing here, Nova?”

“I was told that you are having a party for my brother!  I came to help!”

Celestia’s delicate seeming but very strong magic grabbed the demon pony and swept her out through the tall window-doors to the balcony.  Nova was dangled head down over the abyss.

Dashie trotted out to the balcony and said brightly, “We all know that IF YOU MAKE A PROMISE, you will keep it, Nova.”

Celestia said with a grim tone, “I suggest that you promise that you will do nothing to mess up this party!”

Nova, looking down and swallowing hard, exclaimed, “Would I do that?  He is my brother!”

Dashie interposed instantly, “It has never stopped you before!  We all know that you have trouble with heights and that if we drop you, you will just switch to demon form and fly back here.  You won’t get hurt but you WILL get airsick. Shall I go get towels to clean up after you barf?”

Nova sourly snarled, “All right!  I PROMISE that I won’t do anything to mess up your precious party!”

Celestia nodded, “Good enough!” Her magic brought Nova back to the balcony.  Dashie had towels ready. Nova’s weak stomach about heights let go.  It was mopped up in moments.

Looking puzzled, Nova asked, “Why didn’t you have a servant clean it up?”

Dashie flexed her wings a little as she replied, “Gossip.  Servants gossip.  Why embarrass you further? You made your promise.  I know that you will keep it.

“Why don’t you go and assist with setting up the ballroom for the party?”

Pretending to be defeated, Nova slunk from the chamber.  Inside, she was exulting, “I did it.  I got away with it! I won’t be the one to mess up this party!”

She cornered Count Nogoodny and said sweetly, “If you really want to get on Celestia’s good side, carry a message to De Writer.  He should bring his best tea to the party!”

The Count grumped, “What am I?  A mere messenger?”

Nova smiled viciously as she said, “Well, you don’t HAVE to!  You could ignore it and be blamed for the lack of De Writer’s famous tea at the party.  I am SURE that Celestia will look kindly on such an omission at a party for her chosen consort!”

She giggled as the Count left, double time.

Soon the Count was searching the apparently blind ally where he knew that De Writer’s hidden magic shop was.

He finally found the concealed entrance and managed to get in.  He petulantly demanded, “Why don’t you make it easier for your clients?”

The elderly blue unicorn with a white beard, who was reputed to be one of the two most powerful wizards in Equestria, chuckled.  “I would expect that to be obvious!  I don’t WANT clients who give up that easily!  Don’t really want ANY clients. I am plenty wealthy as it is.”

“Then why bother with a shop at all?”

“So that when I AM NEEDED, I can be found!  Are you really as thick as that brick wall?”

“I have a good mind not to give you my message!”

Skeptically, the old unicorn snorted, “I am glad to hear that your mind is good for something!  I was beginning to wonder!”

“The message is that Celestia is throwing a surprise party for Thomas.  She wants you to bring along your best tea for it!”

“Oh, is that all?  No problem.  Thank you.  Your message is delivered.  You may go.”

“And if I demand to see this tea?”

“I will refuse.”

“I am a Count of the Realm!”

A fading voice said, “Then you are needed elsewhere!”

Looking about frantically, the Count found himself back in the castle.  In a toilet.  Lifting his hooves and stepping out of the water in the bowl, he snarled, “Not even good will with Celestia is worth this!”

Celestia and Dashie, meanwhile, had located Sunrise, Celestia’s son by Thomas, in the Royal Library.  The young Alicorn tried to ignore them by reading intently.  He was surrounded by a near fort of books.  Dashie, knowing readers well, began to read over his shoulder.  And giggling.

Irritated, Sunrise demanded, “Don’t you know that is rude?  Why are you giggling at Snarkevan’s History?”

Dashie batted her eyelashes at him and retorted, “Of course ignoring your mother is polite!  Certainly I knew it was rude.  It also got your attention.

“As for giggling at Snarkevan, most of what he wrote was pure garp.”

Celestia nodded sadly, “She is right, Sunrise.  I was there when those things happened.  So was Luna.  If you want to study history, we have perfect memories.  Ask us or check facts with us.

“Now, we have a different and, I hope, fun task for you.  We are throwing a surprise party for your father this evening.  What we want is for you to go to his bookstore and keep him away from the castle until this evening.  Lure him up in the evening by telling him the truth.  Not about the party, but that Luna is cooking dinner for him.”

Sunrise’s eyes lighted up.  “Thomas’s little book shop?  The one that always has the books that you need? Thank you, Mom!  I won’t let you down!”  He vanished with a clatter of hooves.

He caught Thomas just locking up his little book shop.  “Hi, Dad!  Where are you going?”

“Hi, Sunrise!  I going  to castle for lunch.”

Sunrise pulled his lips back in distaste and made a gagging noise.  “Actually, Dad, that is why I’m here.  They are making their … ack! … Best sushi!”

Thomas blinked about three times.  “You have save my life, sort of.  That five stomach pump sushi!  And one more thing.  We go De Writer’s shop.  He always have something good.”

They trotted down two streets and over one.  They strolled into the small blind alley of brick walls with no doors or windows showing.

Thomas knocked politely and a section of brick faded, turning into a door.  Sunrise pushed the door open and held it for his father to enter.  Thomas expected what he saw. Sunrise was surprised.  De Writer was just finishing setting his table for three.  There were inviting smells arising from under the domed heat covers on the plates.

De Writer had a tall glass filled with a butterscotch milkshake.  There was a pot of hot water and a teacup set out for Thomas, along with a strange looking tea thimble.  It had strong looking bars instead of the usual thin metal with small holes in it.  Sunrise was pleased and relieved to note that his place had a chocolate milk shake as big as De Writer’s.

With a grin, De Writer offered, “Thomas!  Sunrise!  What a surprise!  I heard that you were saved from castle sushi!  My teas are safer that that!”  

Thomas promptly poured his hot water over the tea thimble in his cup!  It began to bounce about in the cup, emitting snarling noises.  The bars held and soon the tea settled down to a quiet brown brew.  Thomas sipped appreciatively. His uncovered plate revealed a big freshly made Alfalfa Steak with Sea Grass puffs along side.  There was a soy and garlic dipping sauce to go with the puffs.  

Sunrise uncovered a plate filled with a simply huge Clover Top burger and an enormous pile of large, thick onion rings.  It had a well with a honey and mustard dipping sauce too!

De Writer’s plate had a big slice of Clover and sweet grass loaf dripping with a rich brown gravy.

They all fell to, happily munching away.  There was no conversation.  It is rude to talk with your mouth full!

As they were mopping up the remains, it hit Sunrise.  “How did you know that we were coming?”

The old unicorn grinned.  “One, I am one of the two most powerful wizards in Equestria.  Two, I heard about the castle making sushi and I knew at once that Thomas would not be there!”

Sunrise thought for a second and pointed out, “What about me?  How could you know about me?”

With a whicker of amusement, Thomas answered, “See De Writer point one!  And one more thing!  More tea, please?”

“Sure thing, Thomas!  This was Wild Mountain leaf and BEARies.  The Bear side of it needs to be contained until the tea brews!”  He reloaded the thimble with more of the tea, which had wrinkled, dried berries in in it.

They all watched the thimble bounce and growl with amusement.  As Thomas leaned back after his second cup, Sunrise offered, “Celestia told me to tell you that Luna will be cooking dinner.”

Both Thomas and De Writer’s eyes lit up at the thought of Luna’s famous cooking.

It was not long before it was time to go.  The Mahjongg game got put aside.  (Thomas was ahead.)  De Writer disappeared into the depths of his shop and returned, carefully stowing a package in his saddlebag.

They all three trooped up to the castle’s main gate.  The guards, recognizing them, let them in without any difficulty.  They headed through the sumptuous halls toward the dining room.

Nova intercepted them.  Instantly wary, Thomas demanded, “Nova!  What you do here?”

Sourly she replied, “Nothing! Sunbutt made me promise not to mess up tonight.  Follow me.  Dinner is over here.”

Thomas skeptically asked, “How she manage that?”

“She dangled me upside down over the drop down to the plains!”

She led them to the big Ballroom.

As they entered the room, the red-eyed Count Nogoodny came to De Writer and demanded, “Did you remember to bring it?”

De Writer nodded as if he had been addressed politely.  “I did.  Here.  You need to measure it into the cups before you add the hot water.”

The Count snatched the package and snapped, “I know how to make tea!”

The group turned away from the minor drama at the sudden yells of “SURPRISE!  Thomas, this party is to thank you for the many times that you have done heroic things to save the country!”

De Writer heard a small clank!  It was followed by the sound of the small catches of a serving urn lid being locked.

Luna was standing proudly by a huge three tiered cake set about with scenes in frosting from many of Thomas’ famous magical battles to keep Equestria safe.

Through the gaps between the layers, De Writers saw a BIG urn of hot water.  The Count was just securing the last catch on  the lid!

With a rumble like an unhappy volcano, the urn suddenly erupted!  The force of the blast hurled the big cake into the air!  It was tumbling toward Thomas!  De Writer’s magic reached out and smashed the cake away, breaking it into a hundred pieces!

Thomas saw Nova’s expression of glee! He did not know how but he did know that his sister was behind the disaster somehow!  His magic snagged all the serving plates and caught a nice chunk of cake on each one!  They all sailed to the surprised guests who grabbed their plates already served!  

All except Nova.  Somehow, her plate arrived empty!  As she was grabbing it, a great big glob of cake, loaded with three flavors of frosting landed on her head!

Thomas grinned as he said, “Oops!”

Nova furiously wiped at her head, some of Luna’s cake and frosting getting into her mouth.  Suddenly she began to laugh.

“At least it is a really good cake!”

The whole rest of the Royal Court, thinking that it was a planned part of the entertainment for the night, joined her in laughter.

~THE END~

Return to theMaster Story Index

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#http://ask-the-chan-family.tumblr.com/ #Written for ask-the-chan-family #written by De Writer

[winterinpanem]

Not Your Mama's Hallmark Christmas part 3/3

This chapter is rated M for sexual content. 

A big Thank You to my friend and Beta @Javistg

Breakfast with Peeta’s entire family is something else. Some are nursing hangovers.

Peeta and Rye sit next to each other and play fight with their elbows.

  “These are grown men, folks!” Lila announces with amusement.

  “Hey, can I butter your biscuit?” Peeta says again with a wink.

  I just roll my eyes at him.

  “Do you need me to wet your waffle, Lila?” Rye adds, greatly amusing his brother.

  I reach for my coffee, Peeta looks at me and says. “Too hot? Maybe you should blow it?”

  I shut my eyes and stifle my laugh.

  Rye follows with, “Lila really likes sausage for breakfast.” Placing a few on Lila’s plate.

  We all groan.

  This leads to Rye and Peeta going back and forth with innuendos as we eat.

  “Do you want a package to come for Christmas, Katniss?”

  “I’ll do you a favor, if Santa doesn't come, well…”

  Finnick and Peeta could do this all day. It's hilarious to hear Peeta and his brother go back and forth. Lila pretends they aren't that funny, but eventually breaks down and cracks up with the rest of us. We're just lucky the pretentious matriarch is seated at the dining table and not with us in the breakfast nook.

  It’s Christmas Day, I don't know what is happening, but today things are different. The hand holding seems second nature. The way we reach for each other is more genuine. Our touches seem to be more than just for appearances. Even the way he says my name sounds, well, different.

  Peeta needed my attention for a conversation with his aunt and the way “Katniss” rolled off his tongue sent a shiver through me, a good shiver.

  I know many erotic novels will describe a predicament where the female protagonist is so turned on she “soaked her panties” at an awkward time in an embarrassing setting, but they never cover how one were to remedy the situation. Damnit!

  Peeta and I are surrounded. SURROUNDED by all kinds of his relatives and I just have to awkwardly shift and pretend I'm not uncomfortable until I can attempt some sort of “pat down” in the bathroom.

  What did he do to provoke such a reaction? I'm not even sure. Was it his blinding smile? His deep, contagious laugh? The time when he squeezed my thigh to get my attention? Or when he brushed my hair to the side to whisper an inside joke from years ago in my ear? Maybe it was when he looked intently into my eyes as we grinned and laughed about the joke reference? I can no longer deny this thing between us. It’s electric. It feels...real.

  After I stack my plate with cookies, Peeta grabs a bottle of red wine and we sneak away to a less crowded room, laughing all the way.

  It was such a gradual shift. No real conscious decision was made, it just seemed natural. The touching. The hand wondering.

  I don't know when it happened, but Peeta and I are up in my room, and I'm straddling his lap as we make out, rather intensely, might I add.

  This feels really real.

  And really intense.

  The only coherent thought I can make is “why did it take so long for us to get here?”

  I've been living this long without his soft pillow lips, how perfectly they fit and hug my own.

  This intensity is what made every other kisser so mundane, forgettable.

  He pulls me tighter as my head begins to spin. I feel drunk on this feeling, on fire, out of control. I feel a hunger within.

  With a sexy husky voice, he whispers magical words that cause a shiver down my spine, “I just want to get you naked.”

  After what felt like hours of roving hands and hungry kisses, clothing in a pile on the floor, I try to catch my breath but, with every touch, Peeta ignites a fire. As his fingers finally reach where I want want him, I'm nearly begging.

  Almost as a reflex, my hand finds its way to make Peeta moan. Hearing his sexy guttural noises has me nearly losing my mind. Hot lips travel down neck, my eyes roll back as my whole body is bathed in waves of euphoria. I hear Peeta stifling similar noises of pleasure in the crook of my neck.

  As we catch our breaths, I find myself giggling.

  “Oh that was sooo goood.” I pant with a tired, sated voice. My eyes are heavy.

  “Mmmhmm.” Peeta smiles like he just learned a secret. He pecks me on the cheek and finds something to clean up with, then dives back in bed.

  The intense look in Peeta's eyes makes my stomach flip. As if he just can't help himself, he leans in, peppering me with sweet kisses that travel to my lips.  

  “Thank you,” Peeta says between lingering kisses.

  “No. Thank. You,” I answer back kissing him too. My lips don't disconnect from Peeta's sweet delicious ones until I can't keep my eyes open and Peeta seems to be nodding off.

  As we drift off to sleep on Christmas Day, the only thought I have is that I don't know if I've ever been so happy in someone's arms before.

  In a half awake state I felt some warmth leave my arms, it's replaced by blankets, and a sweet kiss to my lips, which I return, before going back to my slumber.

  When I wake for the day I'm greeted with a message from Gale.

  The message, sent last night, says:

  Gale: She said yes!!!

  There's a picture of Gale and Madge sporting huge smiles, she’s holding up her left hand up baring the glimmering diamond.

  He popped the question on Christmas Day.

  Another text has a question:

  Gale: Madge and I fought over you a little, but will you be my Best Woman?  

  Me: Absolutely! Congratulations!!

  Then sent Madge the same kind words.

  Madge's reply being: I'll tell you everything when you get back!! xoxo

  I thought for a little bit, then decided to get my best friend’s thoughts.

  Me: What do you think about Peeta and I, if we were really dating? Please don't tell Madge until I've talked with Peeta?

  Gale: You're a pragmatic thinker Katniss, you're never going to choose something serious with someone you ‘can live with.’ The question is if you can't live without him? Does he help you be a better you? This could be really good for you Catnip. ;)

  Me: Solid advice. I'll let you know.

  After I'm showered and dressed, hair woven in my trademark braid, I head downstairs. Since I slept late, only a few family members are still in the kitchen. I decide to look for Peeta before I eat.

  Clara is spoon feeding the chubby babbling baby that sits in the high chair.

  “He's in the kids’ room,” she answers with amusement in her smile.

  What I find is Peeta dancing with his two nieces. The girls are in glittery dress-up clothes, while Peeta has a tulle skirt stretched tight around his waist. All 3 are enthusiastically singing “Let it GO…” as the movie plays on screen. Peeta knows all the words? I would tease him, but I'm just really impressed!

  They didn't see me come in so I quietly sneak back to the kitchen unnoticed. I don't want to ruin the moment.

  I can't wipe away the grin on my face after what I found. Uncle of the year!

  Peeta would make a great dad someday.

Clara and I share a knowing smile as I prepare my breakfast plate.

  The blue eyed baby with tousled curls babbles to his mom while I allow myself to daydream about what Peeta would be like as a father.

  I didn't realize I was smiling to myself until a hungover Rye sat next to me with a plate of breakfast.

  “I really want to mock you about the love struck look on your face, but it's so damn cute. Should I start calling you Sis, now?” Rye nudges me with his elbow, mischief in his eyes, which seems to be a standard Rye Mellark trait.

  “What do you mean?” I try to frown, but fail.

  Rye laughs. “I mean, I've never seen my baby bro so happy and crazy about someone. You’re just as gaga over him and, from what I've seen, it's a perfect match. I'm guessing a ring isn't too far from Peeta's thoughts. What do ya, say, Sis?” This is the most serious I've ever seen Rye, the last sentence he adds playfully.

  “Uh, I, uh?” I really don't know what to say.

  “Don't sweat it, Katniss, just let it happen,” Rye says with a hand on my shoulder.

  He must have read the fear in my eyes.I make eye contact and pay closer attention to what he's about to say.

  “Lila and I were friends first. Lila will tell a much more fluffy magical version, but you seem more practical so, I'll give it to you straight. All couples are different. For us it was a slow natural progression. We were in love before either of us realized it. I didn't know marriage was for me until it just was because it was her. Marrying her was the most natural and necessary decision I've ever made. My whole life is better with Lila. I love her, I want her, and I need her. For the rest of my life. Always,” Rye states so matter of factly we could be talking about the color of snow. It's just fact.

  I'm deeply moved. Somehow this makes more sense than anything I've ever heard about such a commitment.

  “You won't break his heart. He's it for you too. It's in all the little things you're not saying.” And with that Peeta's brother leaves me to my treacherous thoughts, walking upstairs to join his wife and boys.

  I'm also left wondering… so many things.

  There's a knock on the door so, after looking around, I see Clara is busy, I might as well answer it.

  There stands Cashmere De Young, Peeta's horrible ex-girlfriend, standing at the door.

  Cashmere came from old money and was absolutely spoiled. Peeta loved her, he doted on her, was immune to her air of elite, and judgmental nature. I blame his mother.

  I always wondered if it had something to do with his mother's constant disapproval, gaining the approval of someone so exclusionary.

  They dated 4 years, Peeta was talking about marriage, and she left him. This was a year ago, just before his family’s party. Peeta told us of his humiliation at their party and of his mother's constant backhanded comments on the following weeks.

  Despite all this, Peeta went to great lengths to try to win Cashmere back for months. She shut down every attempt. He was quite heartbroken.

  Like kicking a kitten who just wants to be held and cuddled.

  Devil woman.

  Now this woman is back? At his parent’s home.

  “Is Peeta here?” Cashmere studies me, a look of confusion on her face.

  Then I remember the look on Peeta's face when this bitch tore his heart out.  Suddenly I’m filled with anger.

  Her parents were at the party. They probably saw Peeta looking happy and she wanted to come in here to toy with him?

  This woman who is so used to getting everything she wants.

  Not on my watch!

  “Who do you think you are coming here, Cashmere?” I cross my arms, a scowl on my face.

  “I just want to talk to Peeta!” she answers.

  “You've had plenty of time to talk to Peeta! An entire year, to be specific!” My words come out as more of a snarl.

  She looks surprised that I know that.

  “Well, I didn't--,” Cashmere tries, but I interrupt.

  “Well, you didn't? You didn't think of his feelings when you left him? You didn't care about anyone else but yourself?!” I cross my arms in challenge.

  “That's NOT what happened!!” she insists.

  “Get the HELL OUT OF HERE. I'll tell him you stopped by, it's his choice what he wants to do with that information. But you are NOT going to hurt him EVER AGAIN if I can help it! I DON'T want to see your face again!!”  

  Her jaw dropped. “Who the hell do you think you are?!”

  “Peeta's GIRLFRIEND!!” I leave her with that and slam the door in her face.

  I feel like I'm floating on air, I can't believe I was able to tell off Cashmere de Young!

  “Kat? Come over by us!” Two small hands yank my hand and pull me into the living room where Peeta is coloring with a preschool aged nephew. I'm still shaky on their names and parentage. They look so alike.

  “Let's show Peeta that game we played?” a smirk on his lips, mischief in his blue eyes. This one must be Rye’s?

  “Do you mean THIS game?” I tickle both boys with one hand each as they laugh and squirm.

  “Ooor THIS game?” I pick their sides as the laughs become infectious.

  “Or THIS game?” I wrap an arm around each boy and swing them in a circle, plopping them in the couch, gently, but in an exaggerated manner.

  Peeta and I tackle, tickle, and rough house and giggle with our nephews...

  I mean his nephews, until it's time for them to head home with their parents.

  After, goodbyes and hugs are exchanged. I'm surprised to find the ache in my stomach when the kids “can't wait to see me again.”

  The sincerity of Dane and Clara’s open invitation for dinner.

  Rye whispers, “looking forward to a ring.” Which I know has a double meaning.

  I really feel like I fit in this family. It kind of scares me.

  Peeta and I find ourselves sitting on the couch by the fire watching the snow fall outside as we sip hot chocolate.

  He places our cups on the coffee table and pulls me into his arms, longing lengthwise our legs entwined. My head just under his chin where I can hear his heartbeat.

  The calm I feel in his embrace seeps through my veins. I heart his heart beat slow and find a rhythmic pattern. It seems to be a mutual calming effect, wrapped up in each other.

  I'm mesmerized as the fire crackles and flames dance in the fireplace. The gentle rise and fall of Peeta's chest beneath me almost makes my eyelids feel heavy.

  “Katniss I--”

  Peeta's words are interrupted as his phone starts blowing up with text messages.

  “We need to go the the hospital, it's dad!” Peeta says, panic written all over his face.

  CH 6

  The beauty that comes with the winter season brings with it new dangers.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report that about 1 million Americans are injured, and 17,000 people die, as a result of slip-and-fall injuries every year. Studies show slip-and-fall injury rates increase significantly as temperatures decline, with most injuries resulting from contact with outside services.

  Peeta and I rush through the hospital doors hand in hand.

  “Which room is William Mellark in?” We find Rye asking at the front desk, his voice full of concern.

  Loretta is seated in chair outside Bill’s hospital room. She's trying to hold all her emotions in, but the fear is gripping her.

  Dane is seated next to his mom. He offers his hand, which she clutches for dear life.

  Peeta's dad took a nasty fall when he slipped on ice. Will Mellark has a fractured knee that will require surgery. He has a sprained wrist, and they will be keeping him for a few days due to his head injury.

  I heard Peeta talking to his mom about staying past the New Year to help with his dad. I wonder if I should stay with him?

  Loretta keeps muttering how young her husband is, how fit and healthy. Before long, she’s blaming herself.

  The brothers share a look and exchange a few whispered words, with a few head nods they set a plan in motion.

  Peeta and I picked up dinner for the 5 of us while Rye and Dane stayed with mama Mellark.

  After much convincing, Dane took his mom home to sleep while Peeta and I stayed at the hospital to ease Loretta’s fears of being away from her husband.

  The nurses brought us a cot. Peeta and I found comfort snuggled into one another. I fell asleep to his heartbeat under my ear, his solid chest under my fingertips and his fingers in my hair.

  My dreams were less than innocent, twice I woke up too warm and kissing Peeta. I had to calm my thoughts and still my actions. Take deep breaths. We were in a hospital, after all. It's kind of embarrassing how much I want him. In my defense, he didn't seem to mind.

  In the morning, the sight of Peeta's tousled hair and bright eyes make my heart flutter.

  “Good morning, beautiful!” he greets me handing me a crushed cup of coffee. He must have risen hours ago.

  “Thank you.” I smile and accept his gift of caffeine.

  “No, thank you so much for being here with me!”

  I shrug my shoulders.

  “That's just what we do, Peeta,” I state simply. His smiling reply makes something inside my chest grow so huge, almost 3 times in size.

  I rub my chest unconsciously.

  As we wait in Will’s hospital room, we've been told Peeta's dad may wake up soon.

  There's a stirring as Peeta softly talks to his dad.

  “I'm going to call mom. She's going to want to be here once he wakes up,” Peeta tells me before he leaves the room.

  I nod.

  This might be a good time for me to call Johanna.

  “Hey! It's me! How's the beach?” I ask my roommate.

  “Amazing! It's warm and beautiful, and so many guys and gals to take back to my hotel! How are Mellark’s cinnabuns for Christmas?” Jo teases.

  “It's been great, actually. Really great!” I answer her, vague but honestly.

  “Mmmhmm,” I can almost hear the smirk on her face.

  “Are you going to keep him?” she asks so simply, like it's not complicated at all to start a relationship with one of my best friends who has been my pretend boyfriend for the last 5 days.

  “That depends,” I answer just as simply.

“Let me guess, you're doing that thing again where you just don't talk. Have you learned nothing?

  “When that picture in college surfaced, you both talked about anything and everything except your undying attraction. People only teased you because they figured that you would get together with Peeta-bread, --you two were so hot for each other-- but it was only obvious to everyone else,” Johanna explains.

  I take deep breaths and fight the feelings bubbling up inside me.

  “Okay, I won't let the opportunity pass this time. I think, I think he's it for me, Johanna.”

  “I think so too.” Her voice velvety with affection.

  I swallow and explain, “Up until yesterday, everything had been perfect. But his dad had an accident, and we're here at the hospital. If he needs me, I'm going to stay over New Year's. I can't tell him yet, it's too selfish.”

  I hear a door latch so I try wrap up my call.

  “I have to be there for him as his FRIEND. That's it. That's all I am, Peeta's friend.” I explain.

  “Well, tell him you're crazy about him the second you have the chance,” Johanna insists.

  “I will. Thanks, Jo, bye.” I end the call.

  It seems the odds are never in my favor, in life and in love. I thought this week may be the exception.

  I turn to find Peeta looking down, closed off body language. Maybe he's taking his dad's accident harder than I thought?

  “My mom is on her way over,” he tells me.

  I step closer, hoping to calm his concerns, but his response is still closed off.

  “Hey, Peeta, I was thinking, I want to stay in town with you as long as you're here. If you need me?” I offer. Here it is, the precursor to bearing my soul.

  I can't meet his eyes yet, I feel too vulnerable.

  “Why? Because I need a friend?” Peeta asks, with a biting tone.

  “I-I just want to be here, for you, with you. I want to be with you, Peeta.” I try not to say it so monotone, but my fears get the best of me.

I don't know why I imagined him wrapping me in an embrace at these words. When I find a pained expression on Peeta's face I realize I was very wrong to force myself on him, in the hospital with his injured dad.

  Peeta mutters, “Conceal, don't feel, put on a show…”

  “What?” I ask. He looks embarrassed, like he didn't mean to say it out loud.

  “Nothing, uh, something I learned from my... nieces.” He shrugs and rubs the back of his neck.

  I step back and take deep breaths.

  “You don't want me? You don't want me to stay with you?” I try to ask with the least amount of emotion possible.

  “No.” Is his only answer. He looks angry.

  Then we hear Will Mellark moan. Peeta rushes to his dad's side.

  Suddenly, I feel like I'm intruding. This is a family time. I shouldn't be here. I don't belong.

  “I'll give you some privacy,” I tell Peeta. He responds with a nod.

  I wait outside the room for what feels like an eternity.

  Peeta and his dad are still lost in their own little world as I peek through the windows of the hospital room.

  If he doesn't need me to stay over New Year, why wait?

  I'll just get a cab outside the hospital and disappear. There's no way I'm going to stick around while my heart rips apart.

  So THIS is what a broken heart feels like?

  Peeta and I never talked about our feelings, but they became very real to me.

  I did his favor, and even though we hadn't planned on my leaving for a few more days, he doesn't need me anymore, I don't need to stay.

  I should have known.

  No. I knew.

  I knew I could never deserve Peeta Mellark.

  I packed up all my things and called a cab for the train station, then turned my phone off.

  Waiting at the train station, I can't help realizing how lonely I feel. How incredibly empty my heart feels without Peeta. I will myself not to cry, but I'm left with a burning lump in my throat for hours.

  I think I was falling for him.

  I didn't even admit it to myself before I had lost him.

  Why did I let him slip through my fingers? Everything hurts right now.

  After failed attempts to compartmentalize my feelings for Peeta, and trying to convince myself that I'm strong enough to be alone, I doze off in the train.

  The chill the wind gust brings only reminds me that being alone has never felt so bitterly cold.

I tighten my jacket, but it's no use.

  Instead of unpacking when I arrive home, I curled up on the couch with National Lampoon's Christmas, a bottle of wine, and Ice Cream.

  I decided to call Madge the next morning.

“Hey Madge, I'm back in town. Let's talk New Year's Eve. What's the plan?”

  Madge answers “New Year's Gala for the Mayor at 7pm. It's a masquerade, black tie. Gale will be relieved to have you as an ally.”

  “Okay, I'll call if I need help with what to wear, but I think my bridesmaid dress from Annie’s wedding could work.” I share my thoughts.

  “Yes, you look so good in red! If Peeta saw you in it…” Madge pauses, “I thought you said you were staying after Uncle Will’s fall? Any reason in particular that you're back early, Kat?”

  “Peeta said he doesn't need me, so I left.” I answer, refusing to elaborate.

  “My cousin is so dense.” Madge huffs. “See you in a few days!!”

  “See you then! Don't blind anyone with that new ring of yours!” I tease.

  Madge laughs. “I can't help it if I do! See ya.”

  I make plans with Rue and shut my phone off again.

  Rue and I meet up at the indoor rock wall, we try to do this once a month. It's a great work out and we both really like to climb, a hobby I haven't been able to share with anyone else.

“Katniss, I'm just so surprised that you'll fight for everyone else you love but, when it comes to your own desires, you give up so easily.”

  “I don't know, Rue. What do I know about what I want anyway?” I shrug and climb on.

  “You know you want to make it up the top before I do!” Rue says playfully as she gains the lead up the rock wall.

  We laugh and continue vertically. Rue makes it to the top with a grin.

  “All right! Lunch is on me next month,” I tell Rue as we're lowered to the ground by rope and harness.

  After Rue and I have stretched out, rehydrated, talked and laughed, we part ways and I head back to my apartment. I find Annie and Joanna deep in conversation.

  “Katniss, we need to talk about you and Peeta.” Annie says seriously.

  I shrug and take a deeper breath. Then I find a spot in the chair facing two if my closest friends.

  “I think I have an idea of what happened, but will you fill us in?” Joanna asks me.

  I scowl and nod.

  “I told him I wanted to stay with him, that I wanted to be with him.” I take another shaky breath, chew my lip.

  I'm met with surprised and confused expressions on my friends’ faces.

  “Wow, you did?” Jo asks.

  I nod.

  “I'm proud of you, for one, that must have been hard,” my roommate commends me.

  “But then, why are you here?” Annie asks.

  “It wasn't real for him. He-he-he told me he didn't want me to stay over New Year's. That he didn't want me.” It all tumbles out, the lump in my throat grows and I take deep breaths trying to keep my emotions inside.

  “Katniss, he's been talking to Finnick. He’s acting wounded, as if you two broke up. I don't know why he pushed you away. You need to talk to Peeta,” Annie states.

  I shake my head no. “He already made a choice, what good would it do?” I ask Annie.

  “Maybe he didn't hear right, Brainless. You said yourself that his emotions were high after his dad's accident. I don't blame you for bolting, but at least open the lines of communication?” Johanna points to my phone that remains shut off.

  “Look, you may have been faking in the beginning, but what I saw at the Mellark party was very real, for both of you,” Annie insists.

  There's a knock on the door. I look at Jo, wondering if she's invited anyone. She frowns and shrugs. Annie replies with a similar shrug.

  I'm greeted at the door with deep blue eyes and a tousled mop of blonde hair.

  Peeta.

  CH 7

  With a tired, weary look on his face, Peeta hands me a bouquet of wildflowers and a paper bag. “Hi, can we talk?”

  I bite my lip and nod.

  Annie and Joanna mumble something about being hungry and they head out quickly.

  I try to keep my nerves from showing, but I don't want to scowl either so I decide a distraction might be best.

  I place the flowers in a vase.

  Out of the bag, Peeta pulls out wine and cookies for us. I pour each of us a glass of wine and place them on the coffee table.

  I can't help the smile the spreads on my face.

  Peeta brought over things that are just “us.”

  Finally we're seated for a conversation.

  “How's your dad?” I ask.

  “Better. Much better.” He pauses and takes a nervous breath before asking, “Katniss, why did you leave early?”

I make eye contact with Peeta then, looking at my glass, I down the whole thing and pour myself another.

  Okay, now I'm ready for this conversation.

  “It was real for me, Peeta, and you rejected me. I just needed a little time to bounce back. Don't look at me like that, you don't need to soften the blow okay?” I take another sip.

  “WHAT?!” Peeta looks confused.

  “I don't know when it happened, but it became real for me. I wasn't pretending. I thought it was changing for you too. Christmas was just. Wow.” I sigh, then shake my head to clear my thoughts.

  “It hurt to be rejected. Why are you surprised by this?” I ask, drawing even more confusion between us.

  He reaches for my hand and pulls me closer. I flinch, but I can't escape his gaze, or that look in his eyes. It's mesmerizing.

  “When I hear your phone call, I thought... Well, I heard you say we were ‘just friends, that's it.’ I didn't really listen to anything else after that.” He's looking down now, sorrowful.

  I remember saying that to Johanna, out of context that sounds cold.

  His hand clasps mine tighter.

  “So, when I said ‘I want to be with you?” I ask, sceptical.

  “It didn't even register. God, Katniss, when you left, I just felt a hole in my heart. Then my dad told me what he heard. Your whole phone call. I didn't realize… I just didn't...” Peeta rubs his face and tries to organize his thoughts.

  “First of all, you met my parents? I didn't have the greatest example of a fulfilling relationship growing up. I didn't know it could be that great. Dating you, having you as mine, even just for pretend was the greatest relationship I've ever had. You're smart, funny, sexy as hell, and we work so well together. I didn't think I deserved you. I didn't think I could have such a great match for me. Rye talked some sense into me. He explained that it was us together that made this amazing. That we're two pieces of a puzzle that fit together.” Peeta explains.

  I'm listening very intently with every word, until he mentions puzzle pieces and my thoughts turn less innocent. Focus.

  He smirks and leans in to whisper. “That I was an idiot, and I was denying both of us something amazing, but being stubborn and wounded wasn't doing either of us any good.”

  I just stare, unable to speak.

  Peeta brushes some hair out of my eyes and smiles. “I think I knew after our very first kiss. I was scared to fall so hard, tried to bury my feelings. I thought you were better off with someone else. I didn't know what it meant for you. When I saw you in college at Gale’s party I thought maybe that was my second chance, you know? After the pictures of us were floating around, I saw the look on your face, embarrassment. I thought I really screwed up, so I gave you space. Being your friend was safer.”

  Peeta pulls me closer with a serious look on his face. “But now,” he continues with a lower raspy voice, “I can't let this, us, go. Not this time. I think I'm in love with you, Katniss Everdeen,” Peeta whispers.

  Then, as if he can't hold back any longer, he leans in to take my breath away in a fiery kiss.

  I lean in for another.

  Peeta pulls away and looks scared. He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I want always, Katniss. I want a future with you. You're it for me. If you don't think... If you don't feel the same… It might destroy me.” He looks down and sighs.

  The past week flashes in my mind. The look in his eyes while we were ice skating. Hugging shirtless Peeta after the cocoa spilled. The longing for his kiss I felt after our snowball fight. Peeta's hand in mine as he gripped it for strength at the party. The way he held me after I broke down crying after missing my father. All our laughter. All the games. The antics. The longing I felt for Peeta Mellark when I thought I had lost him.

Rye’s words echo “I love her, I want her, and I need her. For the rest of my life. Always.” And “It’s in all the little things you aren't saying.”

  Am I already there?

“Take some time to think about it?” He asks.

  I nod.

  Peeta stands and walks away.

  For one heartbreaking instant, I think he's going to leave, but instead he walks to the brown bag he brought.

  “In the meantime, grab your swimsuit, Everdeen.” Peeta gives me a mischievous look, before pulling two super soakers and swim trunks out of the bag.

  “I checked, the pool is open. We're going swimming!” He grins and pushes me to the bedroom, and heads to my bathroom to change.

  In my head, I replay every teenage fantasy of Peeta I ever had as I rifle through my clothes.

  “There it is!” I say to myself.

  I step out of my bedroom wearing my hunter green bikini, a different one than what I wore in my youth, but the sentiment remains. I barely have the door shut before Peeta pins me to the door and kisses me with such intensity that I'm dizzy.

  Then, he hands me a super soaker and links our hands as if he didn't just blow my mind.

  The grin on my face can't be contained.

  As we walk through the hall to the pool, towels and his own super soaker in his other hand, Peeta asks “So would this be our second or third date?” Smiling at me, eyes twinkling.

  I try minimize the blush on my face.

  “Well, if ice skating was our first date, then would the party be our second date?” I ask, squinting at him.

  “Hmm, seems lousy. What about Christmas, was that a date?” He says, kind of proud of himself.

  “Well, with how the evening went, it kind of felt like a date.” I wink at him with a grin.

  “So, this could be considered our third date then? Interesting.” Peeta says wiggling his raised eyebrows, as he playfully bumps my hip. We've reached the pool yet Peeta's eyes rove up and down my suit.

  I can't hold back my laughter.

  “Cool it lover boy.” I turn my water gun on him and squirt him square in the chest.

  Peeta unleashes his own super soaker and it’s war. We laugh and chase, and dodge. I drop the water gun and attempt to wrestle Peeta into the pool, but he's a worthy opponent. Peeta has me wet in under a minute.

  When we come up for air, my arms are wrapped around his neck. I can't take my eyes off this beautiful man.

  I rest my forehead on his. Peeta plays with the end of my braid as we wade in the shallow end.

I'm brought back to the first time we found each other like this; dazed teenagers in Madge's pool.

  “You might think I'm pushing this too fast, but we've known each other since we were kids. I think I fell for you that summer before College. Imagining my future without you, Katniss, is devastating.”

  He paused thoughtfully, stroking my back gently. “You're going to see that a long term committed relationship is exactly what you want, and that we're better together. Once you realize that, I'm never letting you go and I'm going to marry the shi--,” I cover his mouth with my fingers.

  “Shhhh. Peeta, I think I'm already there.” I stop Peeta's rambling. He nips at my fingers playfully, then his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

  “It was Rye, actually. Hell, we need to give him a gift basket or something… Anyway, I was talking to your favorite brother and he told me about his own decision to marry Lila. How the look on my face said everything. He was right. Peeta, I'm in love with you. I-I never thought I wanted those things, but I want always with you.” I look at him seriously cupping his cheeks in my hands.

  Peeta just stares back in disbelief, smiling as if I've given him the very sun.

  When he kisses me I hope he never stops.

  Somehow, we've made it to my bedroom. I'm dizzy with the hum of my body’s response to Peeta's kisses.

  “When I first saw you in a swimsuit I wanted to touch you like this,” I murmur my confession.  

  I can't keep my hands from roving over every inch of his broad chest, muscular sculpted back, rippling abs. This gorgeous man is in a swimsuit in my bedroom.

  “You have no idea how many fantasies I had of you like this in that bikini in my bed,” Peeta pants in my ear. The low husky tone his voice has taken does delicious things below my swimsuit bottoms. His hands are exploring me also, but some of it doesn't register.

  I'm so excited by every inch of Peeta I can see. My fingers inch their way down his rippling abs, past the V of is torso to the waistband of his swimsuit and I tease the sensitive skin just inside while I suck Peeta's neck. I'm following this happy trail.

  Hearing him sigh and pant in anticipation drives me wild.

  I find his lips because I just crave his mouth on mine. Tongues collide and dance.

  Peeta turns us over and his kisses trail down my neck and collarbone. I'm so delirious with the sensation I don’t realize my top being untied until I feel lips trailing to suck my nipple.

  “Ah, they're perfect, Katniss!” Peeta whispers against my skin.  

  The panting and moaning that follow the sensation are so involuntary they don’t even sound like me. I didn't know I could make such a guttural noise. I am deliciously turned on and aware of every movement of Peeta's body on mine. My legs wrap around his waist in search of friction, more of… something.

  I can't get enough of Peeta. I'm starving for him.

  My hands find his muscular round legs and wander upward. He's so manly and chiseled.

  Normally, I'm much more vulnerable and self conscious with my body, but I'm so overcome with wanting Peeta that it doesn't even concern me.

  Finally, I can't handle how much I want him. I rip down his swim trunks. Little peeta springs fourth and he is glorious. The sight of Peeta naked takes my breath away. Clearly I had been drinking too much on Christmas to appreciate this masterpiece before me. My mouth waters.

  I think I startle him with my aggression, because he's looking at me with raised eyebrows, jaw hanging, as I rid him of his suit.

  I tease and kiss a trail up each thigh until I just can't take the anticipation of making Peeta moan. With the first swip of my tongue all the way up, Peeta’s breath hitches. I make eye contact as I continue to lick and suck. His eyes wide and dilated. Deep blue pools of desire. This man is SO sexy. I speed up my ministrations.

  Peeta is panting and moaning something like my name. He pulls one of my legs, spinning me in a circle. I squeak and readjust. I realize the purpose of this when I feel Peeta’s magical hands trailing up my legs to my hot core, rubbing my slick folds and teasing me until hot kisses roam up my legs.

  I stop my movements to catch my breath only to have it stolen away by Peeta's tongue lapping up my folds before plunging into my center. I moan and hum deep in my throat, my mouth waters, I suck and bob, teasing and “giggling his bells.”

  Continuing my mission of blowing Peeta's... mind.

  “Ooooooh, Katniss!” Might be the sweetest words of pleasure, stirring me to the very core. I'm shaking.

  This isn't going to take much longer for either or us. The pressure Peeta adds, along with his moaning, sends me over the edge, reeling with waves of pleasure. I swallow as Peeta shouts. With the stars behind my eyelids, Peeta's blinding smile and blue eyes flash. Tears come to my eyes as I sing Peeta's name.

  He lifts me into his arms and holds me tight while I catch my breath. Gentle kisses on my neck are accompanied with words of affection and adoration.

  Our eyes meet, and I see the most intense look of love reflected in Peeta's eyes. As if to confirm that what I'm reading in his eyes is true, he kisses me passionately, pouring out the love he feels with a pressure and intensity that leave me dizzy.

  His hands and eyes continue to explore and study my every curve and dip.

  “God, I didn't know I could feel like this. Katniss, you're amazing!” Peeta whispers.

  “Takes two to tango. Do you know how sexy you are?” My voice comes out more raspy then I expected. I smile and play with his hair.

  He shakes his head and grins, eyes twinkling, like a boy who just opened his Christmas presents.

  His hands are wondering between my legs again. When my breath hitches, he studies my face. Asking permission. “We can stop here if you want.” he whispers, trailing kisses down my neck.

  I smile and shake my had no, I don't want to stop. With a mischievous look, I do my best imitation of his own smirk, I tell Peeta “The only sleigh I'll be riding is--,”

  I'm cut off by his lips. We're laughing between kisses.

  A brief contraception conversation settles it.

  Our other encounters have been rushed and lustful. This is more meaningful and vulnerable. I bite my lower lip, our eyes connect and say all the little things we mean to each other without words. This is love.

  Peeta leans up to capture my lips. Electric surges through my whole body from where our lips connect. His eyes widen. He felt it too. I settle myself over him and spread my legs. Peeta gets that smoldering look. The crackle in the air is electric. Anticipation.

  As if something has snapped, Peeta is all over me. Igniting me. With every touch, every caress, it's as if sparks fly. A smoldering fire builds. I fist Peeta, aline us and slink down. With our first connection my breath is taken away. Peeta's deep voice moaning my name sends a buzz through me that makes me dizzy. Our movements build. It's a blur of rhythmic rocking, waves of ecstasy, moans and sighs. I can't even focus on just one sensation.

  The things Peeta's body can do!

  Our loving making is passionate and consuming. Evoking deeper feelings of love I didn't know I had buried within me. Peeta rocks my world again, buried deep inside me. The connection felt something like introducing my other half. Feeling a wholeness I can't even describe, leaving me enlightened. The world as I know it has changed.

  “I love you.” Peeta whispers in my ear.

  After 3 rounds of the best sex of my life, maybe the best the world has ever seen? Peeta and I are emotionally and physically drained. We curl into each other's arms and fall fast asleep.

  “Woah, Katniss. Are you doing this in your sleep?” Peeta whispers, amazed and amused.

  I open my eyes to find I've been dry humping the man in my bed. Emulating the dream I was having of making love to Peeta.

  “Uh, yeah.” I answer, embarrassed as I pull into a more innocent cuddle in Peeta's arms, trying to keep the heat flowing through my body under control.

Peeta seems thrilled. He kisses my cheek and sighs. “Oh no, don't be embarrassed! You're a wild one, Everdeen. I thought I was dreaming.”

  We slip back into a blissful sleep.

  I wasn't ready to elope like Peeta wanted to, but I understand after everything he went through with Cashmere, and our fake relationship, why Peeta wanted a long term commitment.

  On New Year’s Eve, Peeta took me for hot chocolate in town, and we strolled through the displays of ice sculptures carved by local artists. I stopped at a more plain looking one. It was a question, written in cursive on an ice block. Four words.

  I smiled. “Peeta look! Someone's going to…”

  I turn and find my blue-eyed Peeta, down on one knee, holding his grandmother's pearl ring meant for a very important finger.

  With tears in his eyes, he poured out his heart out to me, beautiful words of love, memories and laughter together, words of a future, of always.

  I realized he probably already had my heart. From our very first kiss, I was a goner for Peeta Mellark.

  Words are Peeta's thing, not mine so, as he waxed poetic, my answer was: “You had me at cookies and super soakers.”

  He looked confused, then laughed.

  “Is that your way of saying yes?” Peeta’s words are teasing but his eyes are full of hope and apprehension.

  I ruined his sweet romantic moment, I had better bring it back. I sigh and pull back the mask of humor I wear as armor.

  “I want forever with you Peeta,”  I answer surprising myself.

  We embraced and kissed passionately.

  As Peeta placed the ring on my finger, the crowd I didn't realize had gathered around us started cheering. I tried to ignore a few flashes of cameras --one turned out to be Peeta's that he had Thresh take.

  I turn to face the crowd and I’m met with familiar faces. Thresh, Rue and Prim’s smiles first as they were in on the plan. Then my best friend and his beaming new fiance, standing next to my roommate, elbowing Annie who's wiping tears out of her eyes while Peeta's best friend gives a thumbs up with a mile wide grin.

  My family is all here to celebrate. We all agree to go to the Hob down the street for soup and sandwiches.

  Peeta laces our fingers together and strokes the pearl with the thumb of his other hand. Then, he looks up at me with a smile that makes me go weak in the knees.

  The entire world fades away as I'm taken captive by his blue eyes that speak depths of love and years of adventures ahead.

The End. Happy Holidays!

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Old Flames, New Sparks - Part 6: About Us

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Jensen Ackles, Danneel Harris

Pairing: Danneel x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x Danneel

Warnings: Feelings, so many feelings, smut, oral (female receiving), unsafe sex - wrap it before you tap it people.   

Word Count: 3300ish

A/N: I know I knooow it has been a while. After this one we got two parts left and we are closing in on the happy ending I promised y’all. I hope you are still having fun with this cause I sure still am.

Thanks to my amazing lil sis @mysupernaturalfics for betaing this series for me.

MASTERLIST

Tears were still streaming down your cheeks when you reached the house. You didn’t stop crying as you ran up the stairs to your room, pulling out the suitcase and beginning to throw your clothes into it. All you saw in your mind was the wounded look on Jensen’s face as you pulled away from him. You pictured the fury on Danneel’s when she would inevitably learn what you had done. You were too screwed up to be near anyone and you had in a matter of days managed to hurt the only two people who had ever seemed to truly care about you.

“Y/N what are you doing?” his voice snapped you out of your chaotic mind and you spun around facing him, with tears streaming down your cheeks, but your sobs stopped the moment he walked through the door, part of you foolishly wanting to seem brave even if it was clear to anyone you had been crying. He looked out of breath and concerned as hell. Not mad. How couldn’t he be mad at you? You were ruining everything for him. You had been ever since you walked into his life and still all you saw in those bright green eyes of his was care and concern.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N,” Jensen slowly stepped towards you. “I shouldn’t have kissed you out of the blue like that, but sweetheart please don’t run off like this.” Jensen pleaded with you, but all you could do was stare at him in disbelief. He hadn’t done anything wrong. You had kissed him… hadn’t you? You’re mind was a blur as you tried to make head and tails of it all.

“Hey. Stop,” his soft voice and gentle touch to your arm, brought you back to reality once more. “Y/N get out of your head for a second and just listen to me. You think you can do that?”

“I’m so sorry,” you started crying again and before you knew it, you were wrapped in his strong arms. You knew you shouldn’t allow this to happen. You needed to pull away. Get as far away from him as fast possible, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t move. You clung to him, taking comfort in his embrace. His arms felt as a safe haven and him holding you made you relax completely before you let him guide you to sit with him on the edge of your bed.

“No, I’m sorry Y/N,” Jensen spoke softly, running his hands up and down your arms as you slowly pulled apart. “You’re doing nothing wrong. I’m okay with what’s happening between you and Danneel. That’s not what this is about,” Jensen tried to explain, regret filling his features when panic started to rise in you again and undoubtedly showing on your face. You weren’t an actor, you had never been very skilled at hiding how you felt.

“Jensen, just let me leave. I’m messing everything up. You deserve better. You both do,” you started rambling, but Jensen stopped you speaking over your words and you froze solid in shock.

“When Danneel told me how she felt about you, I told her I felt the same,” he bulrted out before taking a deep breath. You stared at him as if he had suddenly grown an extra nose or something, trying to comprehend the words that had just left his mouth. “Danneel wanted to tell you, but I asked her not too. I didn’t want you to think it was an ultimatum. Both of us or nothing,” Jensen lowered his eyes, “It still isn’t Y/N. You don’t have to go. You love Dee and she loves you. Nothing between the two of you has to change.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, desperately trying to make sense of everything he was telling you. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t even form words properly, “what?”

“Y/N, we both love her. She’s amazing. I don’t blame you. Hell, you make her happier than I have ever seen her. I am not going to force her to chose between us and if you’re okay with having me around then…” Jensen tried to explain, before you interrupted him.

“Jensen, I understand that part. I don’t necessarily agree that you should have to share her with me but the ultimatum thing?” Your mind was screaming at you to get out. Run away and never look back just as you always did, but there was something about him that gave you the strength to stay.

“I’m in love with you Y/N/N,” Jensen breath out making your eyes widen in surprise, “I love Danneel. How I feel about you doesn’t take away from that,” he quickly added, “just like her loving you doesn’t change how she feels about me.” Jensen stopped clearly trying to measure your reaction, but your mouth just opened and closed making you looking like a fish out of water, which was also exactly how you felt. You weren’t able to think straight, let alone form words. You weren’t worthy of Danneel and you sure as shit weren’t worthy of both of them. More than that you had no idea how any of this was going to work.

“Don’t,” Jensen reached out to you, gently wiping away a tear you didn’t realize you had shed. “Whatever you are thinking, don’t. You don’t have to force yourself to feel anything for me. I told Danneel not to tell you because I wanted us to spend some time together by ourselves. I wanted to find out if there is something here,” Jensen spoke softly, “whatever you and I have or don’t have it is not about how either of us feel about Dee. It is not about how she feels about us.”

Jensen stopped talking and he just sat there looking at you, as if he expected you to say something. The words were all scrambled in your mind and you couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of them. You weren’t sure where to even begin figuring out how they made you feel. You hated the hurt expression on his face as he slowly got off the bed, with a small smile.

“It’s okay Y/N. Just don’t run away okay? This doesn’t change anything between you and Dee, I promise,” Jensen’s voice was broken, but it was easy to tell he meant every word. He was the kindest, most caring man you had ever met, but all of this was just too confusing for you to make any sense of. You wanted to stop him before he walked out of the door. You wanted to scream that you were in love with him too, but your messed up mind stopped you from doing anything. It told you all of the ways this could go wrong. It told you that if you gave into this, you were going to break what Danneel and Jensen had. You were poison and every relationship you had ever been in had ended badly. You couldn’t put the two of them through this.

You fell onto the bed, crying your eyes out as soon as Jensen closed the door behind him. You had no idea how long you stayed in bed like that, trying to convince yourself to get up and walk out of both their lives for good, but you couldn’t. You loved them both. No matter how wrong and messed up it was, you did. Still you couldn’t move, not until your phone dinged next to you and you saw Danneel’s smiling face light up your screen.

You sniffled for a bit, trying to guess what the text would say. Maybe she was mad at you for hurting Jensen? Maybe she couldn’t be with you if you couldn’t be with him? Which you still weren’t entirely sure about. You groaned at yourself, grabbing the phone and swiping to read her words.

“Baby, I love you. Nothing will ever change that, but I also know you. Stop putting yourself down. You’re worth so much more than you think. You deserve everything. You deserve to be happy. If Jensen is part of what makes you happy, go for it. If he isn’t we’ll figure it out when I get back home. Just promise me you’ll still be there when I do?”

You smiled through your tears. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear those words. She always seemed to know exactly how you were feeling and what you put yourself through. Even when she was miles away she knew.

“I promise. I love you too, Dani.”

You quickly send her the text before drying your eyes. You still weren’t sure what you wanted or how you truly felt. All you knew was you weren’t going to find out hiding in your room forever either. Part of you already knew how you felt about him, but you needed to be sure. You needed to know it wasn’t your mind, trying to compensate for what you had been doing with his fiance. Jensen had been right in not having Danneel tell you. Whatever was going to happen or not happen between the two of you, needed to be between the two of you only. You both loved Danneel, but if there was to be more than friendship between you and Jensen that couldn’t be part of your choice.

You slowly made it down stairs into the kitchen to see Jensen behind the stove. He turned around the moment he heard you and you could see he had been crying. Your stomach turned into knots and you hated yourself for having put him through, whatever he had been going through these past few hours.

“Are you okay?” you and Jensen spoke simultaneously, before looking equally surprised and you couldn’t help but laugh. Jensen visibly relaxed before you, smiling that warm smile of his that reached his eyes.

“Much better now I don’t see your bags,” Jensen answered softly and you smiled back at him.

“I promised Danneel I’d stay,” you started wanting to bite off your tongue when you saw the sadness return to his eyes, “but I also want to stay. I…” you reached out taking his hand, giving it a small squeeze, ignoring the surprised look on his face. “I like you. A lot Jensen. You were right. If something is going to happen here, it needs to be about the two of us.”

Jensen didn’t look directly at you. His eyes were fixated on your joined hands. His fingers, gently and almost nervously played with yours as he spoke. “But you think there could be something?”

You smiled softly and a wave of courage rushed through you as you reached up, gently caressing his cheek and urging him to look at you. “I think there already is,” you spoke softly, loving the big bright smile that appeared on his face. A smile that made your knees weak and a deep blush creep into your cheeks. A smile that caused butterflies starting to swarm in your stomach. A swarm that only grew over the next couple of days.

You and Jensen spend almost every waking moment together. He went with you to the studio a few times, he brought you with him and Jared to the golf course trying to teach you, yet failing miserably. You cooked together and you ended your nights the same every night. Sitting on the couch wrapped in each other’s arms, ignoring some movie playing in the background as you kissed and touched. Jensen was a completely gentleman and even though he gave you the impression he wanted more between the two of you, he never once pushed for it. He never seemed angry or upset when you called it a night disappearing up the stairs and into your own room. It wasn’t about sex to him. He hadn’t lied when he had told you he was in love with you and you could no longer lie to yourself, saying you didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t about Danneel. It was Jensen. You wanted him. You were in love with him.   

So tonight after giving him one last deep kiss before you stood up, leaving for your room you turned around reaching your hand out to him. You smiled when you saw the look of utter surprise written all over his gorgeous face.

“You’re sure?” You didn’t miss how his voice got a little deeper and his emerald green orbs a little darker. Both of which caused a tinkle between your legs, as you nodded almost shyly and Jensen took your hand, letting you led him to your room.

When the door closed behind you, you turned to face him and the nerves most have shown on your face, cause he smiled sweetly at you pulling you into his arms.

“It’s not too late to kick me out you know? Or we could just make out some more?” he send you a boyish grin and you couldn’t help but giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“No I want this,” you assure him and Jensen smiled as he leaned down, letting his lips meet yours. The kiss started sweet and tender, but slowly grow more heated as Jensen’s and your hands started to wander. You began unbuttoning his shirt and Jensen pulled back a little, smiling sweetly at you as he slowly pulled your shirt over your head.

You finished your work on his shirt distracting yourself from his wandering eyes. Your gaze not meeting his until you pushed his shirt back over his broad shoulder.

“You’re beautiful Y/N,” Jensen spoke softly, making you blush with the seriousness of his tone.

“You’re not bad yourself,” you grinned, making him laugh as he pulled you back in for another kiss. Deep, but unrushed. Your hands wandered each other’s newly uncovered skin, not in a rush for anything other than feeling each other against each other, under each other’s touch.

You smiled into his kiss as you felt him back you towards the bed as he simultaneously worked on the zipper on your pants. You squealed in surprised when he all of a sudden gave you a push, sending you flying on your back onto the bed. Bouncing a bit on the soft mattress, looking up at the handsome man above you. Jensen looked so proud of himself you couldn’t help but laugh as you scolded him.

“Jerk!”

Jensen just raised his eyebrows at you, while still wearing that annoyingly charming boyish smile of his, as he grabbed the legs of your pants, speaking only seconds before he pulled harshly.

“Hold on to something, sweetheart,” he teased, as he almost jerked you off the bed. You squealed again closing your eyes, fearing to hit the ground, but instead you found yourself enveloped in his strong arms, lowering you back onto the bed.

“That wasn’t nice,” he playfully sulked, but his kiss made you forget anything that had ever happened before that moment. There was only you and him. Your hands roamed his back, loving how his muscles flexed under your touch as his hands traveled your curved, making you arch up into him, moaning into his kiss.

You gasped as Jensen’s lips traveled from yours, down your neck. His kiss lingering every time he found a spot that pulled a moan from your lips. He slowly made his way down your collarbone, to the curve of your breast peeking out from your bra. He looked up into your eyes, silently asking your permission which you granted with a small nod, before he reached around you, unhooking it and tossing it to the ground. Holy shit the way he looked at you. Devoured you with a single look. It almost made you come right then and there.

Jensen dipped his head down, his tongue playing over your nipples, licking and sucking as his eyes never left yours. His longing gaze made everything seem so much more intense and your hands fisted the sheets as he slowly made his way down your stomach, playfully biting the waistband of your panties, making you laugh.

Jensen chuckled as he slowly pulled the thin material down your legs, his huge calloused hands making sure to touch every inch of them as he moved, before slowly kneeling down between your legs. You breath hitched in your throat as you watched him. The look of hunger mixed with love in his eyes was absolutely intoxicating as he kissed his way up your leg, lifting it over his shoulder as he finally found the spot where you needed him the most.

And goddammit he was hot. His eyes never broke contact with yours and the sound that he was making, were almost enough to make you come from alone. He made it feel as if he was enjoying himself every bit as much as you were, his strong hands closed around your hips holding you down, keeping you from aching off the bed. Your moans and cries were incontrolable as Jensen rabidly pushed you towards the edge, making you see stars as you tumbled over screaming his name.

“FUCK! YES! JAY!”

Jensen was chuckling, still kneeling between your legs, his hands gently running over the length of them as the world starting coming back into vision. “You okay there sweetheart?” he teased making you laugh and playfully push his shoulder with your foot.

“Shut up. Get your pants off and get up here,” you ordered with a grin, making Jensen laugh.

“Yes ma'am,” he drawled playfully before standing up, pulling his pants and boxers off in one go.

An audible gasp sounded from you at the sight of him and the smug look on Jensen’s face instantly reappeared. He looked like a greek God and he fucking knew it. You grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at his face, making him laugh again.

“No shame in admitting what you like Y/N/N,” Jensen teased as he crawled over you, kissing you tenderly, effectively shutting you up before you could speak and making your head spin. Jensen pulled back after a few minutes, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N,” his voice was almost a whisper but it was enough to blur your vision with tears, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I love you too, Jensen” you spoke softly, gasping fighting to keep your eyes opened and focused on his as he slowly pushed into you, filling you completely.

Jensen set a slowly, steady pace, thrusting into you deeply and never taking his eyes off yours. You gasped and moaned, your lips almost touching his as you arched up against him. You had never felt anything so intense in your life. There was only Jensen and he was everywhere. Encircling your body with his, thrusting into you, staring into your soul.

You didn’t come as hard as last time, but it was even more intense as your orgasm dragged on and on until Jensen finally let go, coating your walls with his hot cum and collapsing onto of you. Your fingers gently caressed his back, as you tried to help him down as he did you, softly kissing your neck.

Jensen rolled onto his side, turning a little to look at you. A blissful, happy smile covering his face. “Wow.”

“Wow?” you giggled, “that’s the best you can come up with?”

“What can I say? You make me speechless, Y/N/N,” Jensen teased pulling you against his chest, making you laugh as you cuddled up to him. “Can I stay?” you could hear the insecurity return to his voice and you couldn’t help but smile against his chest as you closed your eyes getting comfortable.

“I’ll kick your ass if you don’t, Ackles.”

Danneel x Reader x Jensen Tag Team

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Old Flames, New Sparks

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