#fun fact - this is where my crow-counting ask game questions came from!

[darling-i-read-it]

Dinner

Part 1

RE7 Rewrite Masterlist

Ethan Winters x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: spoilers for re7, violence, injuries, blood, gross rotted stuff

Author’s Note: Is this going to be a shit ton of work? Yes. Am I going to have copious amounts of fun with it? Also yes. I really hope you all like the first part!

Summary: The beginning of the game through the dinner that the Bakers hold for Ethan.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator. Some of these lines are directly from the game so they may sound familiar.

(not my gif) (this is a mia winters hate blog)

The car underneath you was bumpy. You looked out the window, your thumb up to your mouth as you watched the ragged scenery pass by you. You tried to take even breaths, not thinking about what was to come. You would much rather not think about what was coming. All it did was stress you out.

Ethan drove the car beside you. His face was forward and focused. He could find Mia. Probably. The windows were down, trying helplessly to get air flow inside the car. You swatted a bug off your arm.

“I hate Louisiana,” you muttered. “Where even is Dulvy?” Ethan scoffed and shrugged.

“The place where Mia emailed us she was,” he said.

“No shit Winters.”

You had been Mia’s closest friend before she went missing. Just before she went missing she spilled her guts to you about everything that she had done, all of the bad and the lying. After she disappeared you told Ethan about it. You and Ethan didn’t know each other well but after Mia went missing you were all each other had. You shared her secrets, you pooled together your knowledge, you grew close.

Now, even three years later you were each other's closest companion.

Mia had emailed both of you, telling you to come and get her. Naturally you went together, in hopes that by not going alone you would be safer. It didn’t help the rising worry in your chest though.

“You really think she’s out here?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know. It seems we didn’t know her at all,” he muttered. He was still hung up on the fact that she lied to him. You didn’t blame him.

“Why did you come? I mean, I get she’s your wife but I almost didn’t. I figured you know, she lied to me our whole friendship. She worked for some sort of evil organization. Good riddance to her,” you said. Ethan had been thinking the same thing. But when he got that email he couldn’t help it.

“I want to know what happened to her. And I want to know why she lied,” he said bitterly. You nodded and looked back out the window.

“Well I guess we’re going to figure that out.”

====

You came up to a large looming house. It was in the middle of nowhere. God only knows how they got groceries. You and Ethan started to walk up to the gate.

“Pff, a house in the middle of nowhere and they have a gate?” you muttered quietly. There were chains keeping it shut. “You think you could climb it?” He scoffed.

“No. You?” You shook your head. You gestured to a well worn path.

“This way it is then.”

The two of you walked your way through the path. There were crows hung from the trees and cow legs tied up to make some sort of circle. Ethan grabbed your arm before you could go through the cow leg entrance.

“Let me go first,” he muttered. You turned around to him and shrugged.

“Alright Winters. I’m right behind you.”

The path led the two of you to what looked to be the back of the main house. There was a swinging chair that you passed up to the decrepit house.

“What the fuck did Mia do?” you asked quietly. Ethan looked over at you as he kicked open the door.

“Wish I knew.”

You took a step inside. It stunk. After going through another door you came down a hallway and then a kitchen area. The place looked like it hadn’t been used in years. Ethan opened up the fridge. Rotted food was inside. He gagged.

“Gross,” he muttered. You looked in one of the pots.

“I think there’s something moving in here.”

You ventured further into the house. You went upstairs and looked around, noting a tape on the desk up there. You picked it up, turning it in your hand.

“You see a fuse up there?!” Ethan yelled. You came back down the stairs, shaking your head.

“Just this tape.” You handed it to him.

“There’s a VHS player in there. Let’s watch it, maybe it has something to do with Mia,” he suggested. You nodded a bit and followed him into one of the rooms. It was dark. You were just happy that Ethan remembered to bring some flashlights.

He stuck the tape into the player and the two of you sat down. Before long there it started up. A story started to play out about some men filming for a TV show. They seemed disinterested in the house and then it came into focus that one of them had disappeared in the house. They pulled a level under the fireplace and climbed down a ladder to the level below you.

At the end the man who had gone missing seemed to be distorted, his face stuck in a pipe downstairs. You grabbed Ethan’s arm worridley and he took the tape out, turning off the TV.

“I guess the only way to go is down,” he muttered. You nodded a bit and looked over at the fireplace.

“After you Winters.”

Ethan pulled the lever and the small door opened. You both climbed through it, to the latter. He glanced at you before climbing down. You watched as he descended into the darkness. The latter broke and he fell.

“Damn,” he muttered. He stood up and looked up at you. “You’ll have to jump.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yes way. Come on.” You looked back and took a deep breath. Then you looked down at him.

“We won’t be able to come back up,” you said.

“I already can’t. You gonna leave me?” You nodded a bit and sat on the edge. He put his arms up in the air and you hopped down. He grabbed you to help you landing. You wiped yourself off and looked around.

“No going back now,” you muttered.

You walked forward and through some water before coming to a prison door.

“Mia?” he muttered as he leaned forward. You nodded, turning around and grabbing some bolt cutters that were lying around. You cut open the chains that were holding it closed. You tossed it to the side. Ethan rushed forward and to her. He shook her awake. She turned around, waking up.

“Ethan?” she muttered.

“Well I’ll be damned,” you whispered.

“Y/N?” she asked. You nodded. She stood up. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“What do you mean? You contacted us,” you explained, arms crossed. You looked around worriedly.

“No,” she said hardly. “No I wouldn’t! Did I?” She sat down and then quickly sat back up. “Did anyone see you? Did he see you?”

“He? Who else is here?” Ethan asked.

“What the fuck is going on?” you questioned.

“Daddy’s coming. We need to go,” she said, quickly grabbing his arm. He started to drag him away before grabbing your arm and pulling you away. You went through the door again.

“Where are you taking us?” you accused.

“Someplace safe,” she promised.

“You don’t seem to know where you’re going,” you said. She gave you a look.

“I will find a place,” she promised. You and Ethan shared a worried glance and kept close to each other. “Are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Ethan asked harshly.

“I am telling you everything I know.” You scoffed.

“Doesn’t look like it Mia.” She ignored you and kept walking. She pushed through a couple of rooms, looking disoriented.

“I remember the family used to bring me food through here.”

“The family?” Ethan asked. But again she ignored your questions and pushed on. Finally you came to a well lit room.

“There was a door here. Where’s the door?!” She asked, looking at a boarded up wall. She stumbled back and her demeanor changed. “We’re going to be a family now that you’re here.”

“What?” you asked.

“There’s another door here. I’m sure of it.” She walked over to a coach and leaned down over it, putting her head on the side. You walked into the other room, searching for another way out. Ethan followed close behind.

“She seems weird no?” you asked. He scoffed.

“I suppose you can say that again.”

There was some loud commotion in the other room. You both quickly turned around and found Mia gone, the boarded up door now crashed open.

“Mia?!” you called. You ran through the door and went upstairs to a different place. You and Ethan stayed close together as you came to what seemed to be the upper floor.

“Mia?!” he yelled. You barged through the rooms, opening up a bathroom door. On the counter there was a handgun. You scoffed to yourself and picked it up quickly, struggling with putting the loose bullets into it. Ethan came through the door. “I found a gun.”

“Me too,” you said. “Convenient. And worrying.” You couldn't find another way out so Ethan opened the door back to the basement.

“Maybe we can go back to the other house,” he suggested, walking down the stairs. You nodded and started to follow him when you saw Mia climbing up the stairs. Her face was odd, evil. Veins popped out of her skin, her eyes a dark color. She was crawling up the stairs.

“Ethan,” you muttered but then she was up in front of you, stabbing at Ethan. He just narrowly managed to hold her back as you backed up, trying to figure out how to use your gun. Finally you were able to shoot her a couple of times.

“I can hear her,” she whispered. “I can feel her crawling her way back inside of me.” She hit herself against the wall and then fell flat.

“What the fuck!” he yelled, her limp body as his feet. You shook a bit. You may not have liked her but you hadn’t wanted her dead. You had killed her. Ethan had his hands in his hair.

“We need to get the fuck out of here.” Just as you finished saying it, Mia stood up quickly stabbing at you. You screamed as Ethan shot her in the back and she quickly turned around, pinning him and putting her knife clean through his palm. You screamed for him and hit her over the head with your gun when you ran out of bullets.

She collapsed again. You ran back to Ethan.

“Fuck,” you whispered. You kneeled down beside him.

“Just pull it out,” he said, breathing between clenched teeth. You nodded and grabbed the hilt of the knife. You took a deep breath and then pulled the knife out of his palm. He groaned helplessly and held it to his chest.

“Oh God. Oh fuck Ethan,” you said grabbing his shoulder. The phone behind you rang. Ethan stood up before you even processed it, picking it up and putting it to his ear. He was quiet for a second, only saying curt responses. He hung up the phone after not long.

“It was some girl named Zoe. She said there was a way out in the attic.” You nodded curtly.

“It’s the best we got I guess.” When you walked back to where Mia was, she was gone. You grabbed the axe she had left and Ethan grabbed the knife.

The two of you went up to the attic and had a run in with Mia again. Before long she was down for the count but you had to move quickly. You were both injured and weak but you had a feeling this was just the beginning.

But yet again she got up, just as you had gotten the fuse to get to the attic.

“Mia I’m getting fucking sick of this!” you yelled, throwing the axe at her. She turned to you, a chainsaw in her hands. You looked at Ethan who was on the floor, his hand cut off. You gasped and tried to keep yourself together.

“He’s my husband! Not yours!” she screamed. She ran at you so hard all you had to do was move to the side before she could trip over her own momentum. You dug the axe into her head and she fell to the ground, the chainsaw stopping with her. You turned back to Ethan who had his severed hand in his other hand.

“Fuck Ethan.” Was all you were able to say before the world went black.

====

When you woke up again you were tied to a chair. You let out a harsh sigh and looked around wildly. You were at some sort of dinner table. As you came too you noticed that Ethan was sitting beside you, awake. His hand was stapled on.

There was a man, a woman, a boy and an older lady around the table as well.

“He’s not eating it Jack!” the woman yelled.

“Shut up woman!” There was a knock on the door outside.

“Goddammit,” the boy said. “I bet it’s those damn cops again.”

“Pigs,” Jack muttered. He pointed a knife at both you and Ethan. He stared at you a beat longer. “Don’t go nowhere.”

The woman, the boy and Jack left the room in opposite directions, grumbling. You and Ethan stared at each other.

“What the fuck,” you whispered, fear in your voice. He moved back and forth on his chair before it fell over and broke. He quickly stood up and helped untie you. “Is your hand okay?”

“It’s stapled on if you think that that’s okay,” he muttered. You both stared at the old lady but she seemed like she wasn’t going to move. You stood up and backed away into the living room behind you.

You grabbed Ethan’s arm and he had a tight grip on your side. You were shaking and he wasn’t going to let you go for jack shit.

“What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?” you asked. Ethan shook his head, swallowing hard.

“I don’t know and I wish we didn’t have to find out.”

Part 2

#ethan winters x reader #ethan winters imagines #resident evil imagines #resident evil 7 rewrite

[tanakavox]

A look into the multiverse chapter 8 SAOA

Many thanks to my friend friend @bssaz97 for his work on the reactions. And TheGoldenBoy2188 for the strict for SAOA making writing easy. The next reaction will be a suprise so stay tune.

Amidst the streets of Mantle, Whitley Schnee walked towards a destination while wearing a disguise consisting of a coat, scarf, shaded glasses, and a flat cap. He had a mission and he would not waste this opportunity!

It was not every day that he could simply leave the manor without Father's permission or notice so he needed to be quick but not noticeable. He had waited months for this day to arrive. Whitley had pre-ordered the latest MMO game of his favorite game series a week before the initial release date and had come to pick it up. Having connections in the right places certainly did have its benefits. The only downside was he had to acquire his prize somewhere outside of his father's notice. So what other place to go than Atlas's sister kingdom.

Outside of his notice, a young white haired faunus woman with sheep ears followed close behind him. Fiona Thyme was out picking up some food for the rest of the Happy Huntresses when she noticed an unfamiliar person walking around. She knew almost everyone on this side of Mantle, so a new person popping out of the blue was very suspicious. Normally she would have reported this back to Robyn but upon further inspection she recognized who this person was.

It was the sole son of the worst man on Remnant and the newly appointed heir of the Schnee Dust Company, Whitley Schnee! Why was he here in Mantle?! Fiona determined he was up to no good and decided to follow him. Wherever the SDC goes, trouble usually follows!

Whitley finally arrived at the destination he was seeking… the Post Office! Now all he had to do was open the door, enter the establishment aaaaaand- stare dumbfounded as the inside of this place was a theatre.

"What the-? This isn't the post office. Where am I?!" Whitley shouted at no one in particular.

"Ah-ha! Caught you right where I- Huh? Where the hell? This isn't the post office!" Fiona also dumbfounded.

"Whitley?" Both Weiss and Winter stated in a mix of shock and disbelief at seeing their little brother. Maybe some hostility on Weiss part.

"Weiss? Winter? How-?"

"What the hell is this?!" A loud female voice shouted as four more people arrived out of nowhere. Consisting of two normal sized humans, a bunny faunus and a very large man.

"Coco/Velvet/Fox/Yatsuhashi!" Teams RWBY and JNR said collectively.

"Oh hello everyone! This… is a surprise! When did you get to Vacuo?" Velvet asked the group.

Fiona turned towards the new strangers, "Vacuo? What are you talking about? You're all in Mantle?"

"I'm most certain we're in Vacuo at the time." Yatsu spoke.

"You are in neither at the moment." Ozpin spoke up.

"What the- Teach? Weren't you supposed to be dead?!" Coco confusingly points out.

"I believe an explanation is in order."

*One short but informative explanation later*

"Wait so we were brought here to watch… alternate realities?" Fiona says after she and all the new arrivals had been told everything about the theater.

"We call them viewings but yeah pretty much." Ruby said.

"Hold on, I can understand why all of you were brought here, seeing as you all are huntsmen and huntresses. But that doesn't explain why I'm here." Whitley, having taken off his disguise.

"A great question indeed." Weiss mutters.

"I think I have a theory." Blake stepped forward. "So far now, I've noticed that the people who are here have at least some involvement in the viewings that we have been seeing. Remember that one viewing we saw of Whitley being stuck inside a video game?"

"I was stuck in a video game?"

"Also if you die in the game you die for real." Nora added.

Whitley's eyes widened at the implications.

"Well you're still stuck as far as we know. But apparently you're very good at the game so you might be fine." Jaune clarifies. Slightly feeling guilty that his alternate is the one who traps him there.

"Oh joy, now I'm trapped inside a place against my will in two realities!" Whitley throws his hands in frustration.

"Oh boo hoo! Is the rich boy gonna cry because nothings going his way today?" Fiona says in a mocking tone.

"Oh I'm sure you would know so much about crying and complaining about trivial things, thief." He shot back at Fiona.

"At least I think about the people of Mantle! When was the last time you thought of someone outside of yourself, Schnee!" Fiona retorted.

Winter sensing that this conversation was going nowhere stepped in between her brother and the happy huntress.

"Enough! None of us came here by choice so let's just stop this pointless arguing and move on."

Fiona huffed, "I couldn't agree more." She stomped away from the two siblings and found herself a seat in the theater.

Winter sighed, "It may not be ideal but as long as you are here Whitley, I would just suggest sitting tight and wait until you or all of us are able to leave this place."

"Hmph, very well. Thank you sister, it almost sounds like you care." Whitley took his leave and found a seat that was about four seats away from Weiss's team.

"Isn't there anywhere else you want to sit," Weiss practically hisses.

"Oh but Weiss it's the only seat that's close enough to you." Whitley affirmed.

Weiss groans in frustration, 'Hopefully it's only for one viewing…'

An acoustic guitar plays in the background as a montage of the events of and post-Episode 1 appears on the screen and a narrator began to talk.

" A month had passed since that fateful day. When everyone's world got all twisted, leaving them stranded in a castle in the sky. Since then, 2000 poor souls came to an abrupt and tragic end. Some by bad luck, others by sheer stupidity. I mean, really. Why would you just stand in fire? Anyways, that didn't bother The Kid none. He only cared about one thing, and one thing alone. Himself. 'Cuz in a game of life or death, you either live... or you die."

The scene transitions to Shirou leaning against a wall with an annoyed look on his face.

"What?! Two thousand of the players have died already!" Ruby yelled, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Not surprising, seeing as many of them looked weak last viewing." Cinder coolly replies.

Many huntsmen and huntresses glared at the red clad woman. She paid them no mind.

"Well thank you very much Narrator, you're doing a wonderful job of explaining the total death count of this video game prison." Whitley commented dryly.

"Oh, WOW. What brilliant insight! It's so deep it loops right back around to being stupid." Shirou snarked.

"The Kid ranted at no one, it slowly dawning just how alone he truly was" Narrator continued..

Whitley's eyes narrowed, "Am I being sassed by the narrator?"

"Maybe you said something to piss them off." Fiona added.

"Wait, what was that?" Shirou asks, shocked.

"He asked the sky, like a preacher to his silent gods."

"What gods? What are you talking about?! It's all bullshit metaphors with you!"

"He cried, not knowing the difference between a simile and a metaphor. The tininess of his brain dwarfed only by the tininess of his di-"

Whitley's eyes narrowed and face twitched at how much of an annoyance this narrator was being.

Weiss was doing her best to conceal her smile but was failing and breathes out a laugh. She was enjoying the exchange that her brother was going through and found it amusing. Her team gave her a side glance while Fiona and a few others laughed at the roast session the young Schnee was being given.

"Narrator off." Shirou commands the system with an annoyed tone.

"YOUCANSILENCEMEBUTYOUCAN'TSILENCETHETRU-" The narrator got cut off.

"Dick."

"Thank gods that's over, that narrator was extremely rude." Whitley sighed thankfully now that the narrator was silenced.

Weiss and Fiona grumbled that their fun was ruined.

Fade into December 2, 2022, on a strategy meeting led by man called Diabel. He gave a big smiled out to the crow

"Hey everyone. Thank you all for coming to our little powwow. Now, I know many of you may be discouraged by the fact that 2000 people have died so far."

" WHAT?!" A player screamed

" 2000 PEOPLE ARE DEAD?!" Another screamed.

"IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN A MONTH YET!"

"OH MY GOD, WE REALLY ARE FUCKED!"

"Pretty much, sucks to be you!" Mercury laughed.

"These are the people that have to survive this game. Honestly what was blondie expecting," Emerald facepalms.

"Hey! Just because they've lost numbers doesn't mean that they have to lose hope!" Ruby glared at the two assassins.

"And I know even more of you are a little down because we haven't even cleared the First Floor yet." Diabel added, trying to keep the smile on his face.

"WE HAVEN'T?!"

"I THOUGHT WE WERE ALMOST DONE...!"

"You were saying." Cinder looked back at Ruby.

"Well…" Ruby trailed off, thinking of a way to defend these players.

Diabel's smile wavered

"Uh, you guys do know there are 100 Floors, right?"

"WHAT?!" A crowd of players yelled.

Diabels sighed a bit.

Ruby, despite her best attempts, also sighed and sat back down.

"Oh jeez, I am just making things worse. Point is, we found the Boss Room!"

The crowd gasps.

"Now, we've formulated a few strategies with some help from the beta testers-"

"BETA TESTERS?!" A voice yells out.

"Oh goddammit!" Diabel groaned argnily

A player named Kibaou jumps in.

Kibaou, what do you want? Diabel looked tired addressing this player.

"Beta testers? They're the reason we're stuck in this game!" Kibaoyu sneered

Many that heard this player's statement and quickly frowned at his blatant accusations towards these 'beta-testers.'

"This guy can't be serious, right?" Coco stated.

Dianel looked at Kibaou flatterausted at the stupidity of the statement he heard

"What?! Do you have any evidence to back that up?"

Kiabrou scoffed at the question. "Pfft! Evidence. I don't need no evidence. Isn't that right, Jesus?" He points to a player named "Jesus"

" It's pronounced "Hey-Zeus", and I don't know you."

"Wow, really selling your reasoning by having no one else to support your claim." Jaune stated while crossing his arms.

"Well, they still should have helped us newbies!" He exclaimed

"If I might interject...:" A deep voice called out.

A big muscular man gets up and comes to the stage.

Velvet taps Yatsu's arm excitedly, "Hey you're in this game too Yatsu! …oh gods you're in this game too."

"So it seems," Yatsu, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Coco lowered her shades along with a confused look. As far as she knew, Velvet was the only one who played video games on their team. Unless...

"And who the hell are you?!"

"I am known by many names.", "Closed eyed demon. The memory easer., "Hooked clawed tiger". But you? You may call me... "Velvet".

"Velvet huh? That's a... pretty masculine name." Kibaoru said adwarkley

"Shouldn't be. It's a woman's name." Velvet replied casually.

"Damn it. I had a feeling but I didn't want to be right." Coco cursed quietly while shaking her head.

"Wait, why would Yatsu have a character named after me? That doesn't- ...Oh ...oh my gods." Velvet's eyes widened at the implications, tears starting to build. That is until she felt a nudge on one of her shoulders. She turned her head and there was Yatsuhashi looking at Velvet with a gaze that said, 'It's not your fault.'

"Kay, I don't know how to talk to you."

"Good. Then you can shut up and listen. Does everyone here have this book in their inventory?"

" Yeah.

" Yes."

"Yup."

"Yeah."

" No... Wait, can I change my answer?"

Velvet/Yatsushi held up a book to show to everyone.

" This book is full of tips and strategies on how to survive this game, put together by the beta testers. Everyone read it, yet some people still died. The beta testers did everything they could."

"Yeah, that means Mace Hair has no reason to blame the beta testers!" Ruby points out.

Many of her friends nodded and Yastu's team smiled at the sound defense his alternate presented.

" Actually, I didn't read it." One player chimed up.

"Yeah, I didn't read it either."

"I skimmed it."

"OH COME ON!" Many members of the audience shouted in agitation.

"What? Didn't ANY of you read it?! It is literally a matter of life and death." Velvet exclaimed

"Well, dude. It's like 80 pages." A player pointed

"2000 people are dead!"

"THEY ARE?!"

"Again. These are the people that have to survive this game." Emerald reiterates.

Brief pause. Shirou looks shocked at their stupidity.

"I am so done with you people." Velvet mutters, walking off the stage.

" What do you mean "you people"?" A player asked a bit offended.

The Faunus in the room narrowed at their eyes at the implications made by that player.

"What do you mean, "you people"?" Fiona asks no one in particular.

Velvet and Kibaou take their seats.

Diabel continued with the meeting. "So, as Mister Hooked clawed tiger was saying, this book has some great strategies, including how to beat the First Boss, Illfang."

He clears his throat and starts reading from the guide.

"So as you enter the Boss Room, he's gonna throw wave after wave of disposable minions at you... and you must answer in kind."...?

"Uh, what?" A player asks, mirroring Diabel confusion.

Many in the audience reacted just as confused. All except Whitley, who had a good feeling where this was going.

Diabel continues

"Send the weaker players first. Good rule of thumb: If a player asks you for gold 2 seconds after meeting you, front lines."

"Ha, serves 'em right!" Kiaboru said with a laugh

"If they hijack conversations to rant about their political views, front lines."Diabel said with a smirk looking at Kiaboru.

Kibaou went pale. "Aw, shit."

"Ha! Serves you right!" Nora laughed.

"If they ask female players for pics of their boobs, front lines."

"OH BULLSHIT!" One player screamed out in rage.

"THAT'S DISCRIMINATION!" Another one howled.

"BOO!"

Many of the women in the theater frown at the way those players reacted. Winter was more than certain that those players were the type that participated in the mentioned acts the speaker spoke on.

Diabel smiles and waves them down. "Now, now, people. I think there are some valid points being made here. Now, it goes on to say when Illfang's health goes into the red, he's going to switch from his axe and buckler to something called a "Talwar". At that point we should initiate a strategy called "The Final Solution" and- I'm just gonna stop reading! Jesus, who wrote this thing?"

Shirou giggles evilly.

"Of course Whitley wrote that book." Weiss sighed.

"Why sister, it sounds like that didn't surprise you in the least." Whitley pretending to act hurt.

"Please. The manipulative tone of the text almost makes one sound too much like you." Weiss bit back.

"Well I suppose you would know." A wide smile on Whitley's face.

Weiss scoffs turning her head away from her traitorous brother.

Team R_BY and Winter watched the exchange and sighed.

"Okay, so the guide's a bust. But it'll be fine. I'll come up with a great plan for us." Diabel smiles at the crowed.

"Like what?"

" Well... we... could... Uh... Uhhhh... I'm open to suggestions."

"Woah, guys, we could- we could, you know, like, group up and-"

"And hit it 'til it DIES!" Another yelled finishing the other player sentence

"Woo, nice!"

"Yeah!"

" High five!"

The two hive five.

"Well. It's something, right?." Velvet does her best to be optimistic.

Many of the more experienced members of the theater shake their heads.

"That's... a good start. But let's hear some other suggestions."

"I'd like to hear more about this "Final Solution"." A player in a german accent piped up.

"Fuck it, group up." said Diabel said tirely.

Shirou slides down the seats towards a girl, named Fiona, who's on her own.

Fiona blinks in surprise, "Oh my gods, that's me! I'm in the game! Hey other me, stay away from the Schnee!"

"You have my condolences." Weiss says to the sheep faunus.

"So, why aren't, uh, you joining anyone's group?" Shirou asked.

"I have my reasons." She said mysterioly

" Is it because you're a girl?"

"No. It's because... I don't know how to play."

"Because you're a girl?"

Many of the females and males who enjoy video games, such as Yang, Ruby, Velvet, Nora,, Jaune, Oscar, Ren, surprisingly Mercury and Emerald, along with Fiona herself, threw questioning glares towards the current heir of the SDC. Weiss and Winter glared at him as well but for other reasons.

Whitley looks around to see all the glares directed towards him. "Why are you all looking at me? I said nothing."

"No!" Fiona snapped. "It's just... I don't know how to open the menu."

"What?" Both Fiona and Whitley asked.

"Jinx!" Nora shouts.

"What?!" Shriou looked at the girl in shock. "But you can't do anything in this game without the menu. How have you survived all month?"

Cut to Fiona holding a piece of bread. She is staring at it intensely. "HOW DO I EAT YOU?!" She screamed at it.

Many laughs were had at the poor girl's predicament, despite some of them doing their best to not do so but could not help themselves.

Fiona slowly sank into her chair, covering her face in shame. Her alternate was the utter definition of a newb player.

Back to the present.

"It's... been a challenge…" She muttered before looking at Shirou. "What about you? Why haven't you join the others?"

"Oh, lots of reasons. Mostly because they're a bunch of mouth-breathing neckbeards who think "LMAO" is how French people laugh."

" Ha ha, that's so Le Mao!" Said one player far away causing to Shirou shudder.

Whitley in the theater also shudders in disgust. If these were the people that he would have been surrounded by inside the game, then he too would have avoided them like a plague.

"Wow. You certainly... speak from the heart."

"Funny, I thought I was speaking from my mouth. But, eh, shows what I know about biology." He said with a smirk.

"No one else wanted you in their group, did they?"

"Shut up! It was mutual!"

"And who would blame me? Have you seen the players of this game? I'm honestly surprised they lived this long."

"You're just saying that 'cause no one wanted a smartass on their team." Fiona smirked.

"I'm sorry, were you speaking Menu Girl?" Whitley nonchalantly retorts.

Fiona's face grew red in embarrassment and agitation. She wanted nothing more than to raise her hand and activate her semblance right now. 'Give me a reason Schnee, I dare you.'

It cuts back to Diabel smiling and clapping his hands.

"Alright, looks like everyone's grouped up. Get plenty of rest tonight, people! We leave at noon!"

A player groans "Noon?"

"That's so early!"

Diabel sighs. "Alright. What about 1 o'clock?"

" Dude, come on!"

" God, fine! We leave at the crack of... 2:30, I guess. Lazy butts…"

"Christ, I'm gonna have to set my alarm."

Everyone in the theater did not have high expectations for these players as they would face their first challenge.

Cuts to December 3, 2022 Floor 1: Illfang's Tower, 7:30pm. Everyone's at the Boss Door and everyone except Diabel is exhausted.

"Okay, so there were a few more stairs than we realized. Apparently real life athletic ability translates into the game. Good to know." Diabel looked out to the sad sight in front of him.

"Oh, god. I can feel my lungs trying to kill me." One player whined.

" Is this sweat?!"

" I peed a little."

" Jesus, this is sad." Diabel said with a grimace.

One player vomits.

"Congrats Jaune, someone else has now become the new Vomit Boy of this viewing!" Yang exclaimed.

Jaune rolled his eyes at her attempt at making him feel better.

"Fuck it. Why don't you all just take a Cheetos and Mountain Dew break, and we'll reconvene in an hour."

1960 Batman-Esque transition with Cheetos and Mountain Dew.

" Dammit, guys! I was kidding! You weren't supposed to actually take an hour!" Dibal said in a rage."God, we've lost so much time. Let's just do this already! You all know the plan!"

Illfang jumps into the center of the room and roars. Kobolds pop in, and an error message pops up on the third one that says "Error: "Sentinel_ " not found."

Ruby and Nora laughed at the mob that got glitched.

"Alright, men!" Diabel began,"Form up and-"

"EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" A player screams

The armies converge on each other.

"Are they serious! You can't just go gung-ho in a boss battle!" Jaune exclaimed at the increasingly apparent, dim-witted players.

"What?! No! Goddammit guys!" Diabel begins to bark out orders. "Squad B, quit attacking the Boss and keep the Sentinels off us! C, D, stop attacking from the front! Do you even know what "flank" means?! Squad F, for fuck's sake! Stop playing Bejeweled! *Groans* Squad G, get in there and help A and B!"

"Got it!" Shirou said with a nod rushing in.

"Don't talk back to…" Diabel did a double take."l Holy shit, really?!"

"How is Whitley the most sensible minded player in this game?!" Weiss asked.

"Weiss, have you seen the other players?" Blake asked her in a deadpanned tone.

"...Yes you're right, that's actually too much of an insult." Weiss admits.

Shirou attacks a Sentinel, leaving Fiona to finish it off.

"Okay, Fiona! What you're gonna wanna do here is-"

Fiona lets out a Battle Cry and kills the Sentinel in one hit.

Fiona in the theater perked up at this display, "Oh my- I can fight! Oh thank gods I can fight!"

Shirou eyes widened in shock "Wow, I thought she was hopeless, but her technique is flawless. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's even better than I-"

"Hey Shirou! I killed the thing and now it says I have XPs! Is that bad? Am I dying?! Fiona cried out to him in fear."

Shirou rolls his eyes"Or... maybe... not."

"Miss Fiona, either your alternate is very lucky or is very out of base with technology. I can't tell which it is." Whitley stated.

"Shut up Schnee, she's trying!" Fiona defends her other self.

Illfang's health drops into the red. He snarls at the players and he tosses his weapons.

"Alright, men! This last part's gonna take careful coordination…" Diabel ran towards Illfang. "which is why I'm just gonna do it myself!"

Diabel charges his weapon art. Illfang draws his Ōdachi.

Ruby's eyes widened, "OH NO!"

Shirou looked and saw the weapon and his eyes widened calling to Diabel. "Oh shit! Diabel, look out! That's not a Talwar! It's an Ōdachi!"

"What's the difference?!" Diabel ask still running towards Illfang.

"Well, a Talwar is of Indian descent while an Ōdachi is Japanese! While both are primarily slashing weapons, the Talwar was favored by cavalrymen, as opposed to an Ōdachi which was mainly used for dick measuring!" As Shirou is talking, Illfang starts jumping off the walls.

" What's your point?!" Diabel asked impaintely.

"Well if you let me finish, I was getting to that! You see…"

Diabel gets hit by Illfang, screaming in pain.

Many of the huntsmen and huntresses in the theater either gasped in fear or looked away at the surely doomed player.

"What's happening? Did I miss something?" Fox called out.

"Oops." Shirou sheepishly said.

Illfang hits Diabel again, sending him flying.

"DIABEL!" Kibaou yelled out.

Illfang pops down in front of Kibaou and roars. A message pops up "Bonus Item: Soiled Pants". Above Kibaou

"Hey, rare drop!' A player said cheerfully.

Mercury laughed at the joke while most of the others were disgusted by the fact that that achievement was unlockable.

Shirou runs over to Diabel and holds him up.

" I was trying to say an Ōdachi's a little bit longer than a Talwar, so it'll have more reach and do a bit more damage."

"And why couldn't you say that first?" Diabel asked weakly

"Yeah you dummy! You almost might've killed him!" Ruby cries out.

Whitley was actually taken aback by that statement. Sure he had moments of pride and arrogance, sometimes he looked down on people but he didn't believe he would ever intentionally kill someone.

" I like to think of myself as a teacher. Anyway, drink this."

Shirou tries to give Diabel a healing potion but he stopped Shirou shaking his head.

"No. It's better this way. I just can't do it anymore. I had such high hopes at first. But now? Our best player is a girl who thinks DPS is some kind of sex thing." Both turned to glance to Fiona.

"I know. It's weird, right?"

Fiona sulked more into her chair.

"You're clearly not like the rest of them. How do you stand it, Shirou? Where do you draw your strength?" Diabel look at Shirou like a sage.

Shirou sigh and drops his wisdom onto him. "I've been playing MMO's a long time, Diabel, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that lions do not concern himself with the opinions of sheep. Just take that little voice in your head that tells you to be tactful and understanding... and shoot it. Shoot it in the goddamn face."

" You are so wise. If only I'd met you sooner. Perhaps, things would have been different. You must lead them now. Show them this game can be beaten." Diabel let's go of Shirou wrist.

Weiss was taken aback that this man was actually willing to place trust in this alternate of her brother. This stranger who barely even knows him placed the lives of all the players into his hands. Much like how she tried to trust Whitley once… this caused a bitter frown to grow on her face in recollection. Even if this was a different version of him, it was still Whitley in her eyes.

Shirou smiles fondly at Diabel. "Another life... in another time... I think we could have been friends."

"I... doubt it." Diabel gasps out before turning to shattered glass, dying.

" Well fuck you, too!" Shirou said angrily his smile dropping into a frown.

Fiona slips in by Shirou's side and began to lay out a plan.

"Alright, Shirou. Here's what we'll do. One counters his blows to knock him off balance and the other switches in to attack. Rinse. Repeat. Victory."

Shirou looked at her with one eye. "You came up with that, but you can't open a menu."

"Shut up!" Fiona cried out.

Illfang roars and they take off running toward him.

"Alright, so you counter and I'll attack!" Shirou yelled to Fiona.

"What? No, it's my plan! I should attack!" Fiona yelled back.

"Fine, just get ready!"

Shirou makes a battle cry and counters Illfang's attack.

"SWITCH!"

Fiona moves in and gets her cloak destroyed by Illfang before attacking revealing white curly hair and sheep ears.

" See? You almost got yourself killed! I'll attack him!" Shirou yelled again and began to attack Illfang.

"Oh, that was a fluke, and you know it! He's mine!" Fiona yelled back.

Fiona attacks Illfang.

"Oh shit. They're actually giving that boss the work!" Coco called out.

"He's mine!" Shirou yelled.

Shirou blocks Illfang's next attack, but Fiona attacks him before Shirou can do so himself.:

"Mine!" Fiona screams

"NO! HE'S! MIIIIIIIIIIINE!"

Shirou slices Illfang and he explodes. Everyone is stunned. Lame party kazoo sound effect and a banner with the word "CONGRATULATION" appears.

"Yeah!" A player cheer.

This caused almost everyone in the audience to laugh. Despite the dark humor of it all, it was still pretty hilarious.

"What happened? Did they win?" Fox asks

"Oh yes, I'm sorry Fox! They beat the boss and a victory banner came out."

"...heh." Fox chuckled.

Shirou is panting. He gets an item as a reward for defeating the Boss.

"Congratulations!" Velvet said, patting him on the back. "That was even more impressive than that cat that learned to play."

Cut to a player with a cat's head, with another player staring at it.

"Meow."

"Huh what did you know?" Yang replied.

"Oh my god! You guys can see it too?! So I'm not crazy! Isn't that great, Jesus?!" We see things from the players' perceptive, with a giant hallucination of Jesus Christ looming over the crowd.

"That's right, Jeffrey. Now... kill them all." Jesus said, his voice growing darker.

"As you command, my Lord." Jeffrey whispered.

"Somethings very wrong with that guy." Qrow states.

"I honestly agree with you, Branwen… Blegh! That left a horrible taste in my mouth." Winter stated.

Cut back to Velvet talking to Shirou. The other players are applauding his victory.

"You've led us to victory, Shirou. These men and I will follow you to hell itself. Now... address your people." Velvet is smiling and pushing Shirou to the crowd.

Shirou gets up and smirks. "I always knew this day would come. Ahem. Fellow gamers! We have traveled far and up many stairs to get to this point. Fighting side by side, noobs, and leets, alike. I'd like to take a moment to say that I couldn't have done it without the help of each and every one of you."

"Aw, that's a nice thing to say-" Velvet was cut off when Shirou counties.

"Of course, I'm not a liar, so I'm not gonna say any of that."

"Oh shit."

"I thought as much." Weiss states.

Shirou grins look at the group. "I mean, really. I could've done this whole Boss Fight myself. But to be fair, I guess you did absorb a bit of damage for me, which was nice. You were an adequate meat shield, and no one can ever take that away from you."

"Fuck. Fuck! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Velvet started to say.

"So for those of you who came in late, and that one guy playing Bejeweled back there... shoot for the stars... it'll make it more fun when I kick you back into the dirt."

"You're not better than us!" Kiaboru said.

"Yeah! What makes you think you're so cool?!" Nora shouts to the screen.

Shirou equips the coat he got for beating Illfang and smugly looks at the group."My sweet-ass coat begs to differ."

"Dammit, he's got us there." one player muttered.

Shirou ascends the stairs out of the Boss Room. Fiona follows him and grabs him by the shoulder. "Shirou, wait!"

Those in the audience looked on at Fiona's alternate in hope. Surely she could turn him around after their excellent display of partnership.

"I want half." She said, staring at him blankly.

That hope was quickly squashed, shot at, and finally burned to death via gasoline and cracking a fire dust crystal.

Shirou turns to her confused. " I'm... sorry. What?!"

"I want half the coat. I did half the work, I should get half the coat." Fiona explain and extends her hand for him give it to her.

"No! It's not fabric I can cut! It's just a bunch of 1s and 0s!" Shirou was getting frustrated.

"Fine, then give me the 1s."

" Fuck you! I want the 1s!" He groans and open the menu. "I am not having this argument. I'm disolving this party." Shirou opens his menu and "Di-solves" their party.

"Shirou! If you walk away with my half of the coat, I will make your life a living hell!" Fiona screamed.

"You know what? Fine! I'll give you the damn coat! Just send me a trade request."

"A... what?"

Fiona's eyes widened as she watched from the theater, "No…"

Shirou grins viciously "Oh, it's quite simple really... Just open your menu." Shirou starts laughing maniacally as he walks out the doors as Fiona screams at him:"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" At him.

Outro Plays.

Fiona screams, "I can't believe the nerve of that-! GRAAAAH!"

"Can you please stop screaming! You're going to cause everyone's ears to bleed." Whitley said while using a handkerchief to rub his ears.

Fiona huffed then matched off, going to another place in the theater.

"Well that was interesting. So you all say there's other viewings where we see other worlds besides this one." Coco asked the group.

"Oh yeah, we've seen a couple worlds ourselves, but only a handful I'd say." Yang admits.

"Well as long as we're here, we might as well take time to catch up." Velvet smiled.

"Yeah, this will be great! It's almost like we're back at Beacon, right Weiss? ...Weiss?" Ruby looks beside her but noticed that her partner was not with them anymore.

In another side of the theater, the all three Schnee siblings stand together. Both of the youngest siblings look at Winter who brought them here.

Winter clears her throat, "I understand that there are some… tension between the three of us during this viewing. So I asked you both here so that we may come to terms with our situation."

Weiss scoffs, "Come to terms with him! I highly doubt that."

Whitley crosses his arms, "Yes it does seem like a lost cause Winter."

"Enough! Both of you!" Winter raised her voice causing both of her younger siblings to go rigid. "I'm not expecting you to get along or even apologize to each other at the moment. What I ask is if you two can at least act civil with one another while in the theater?"

Both Weiss and Whitley looked at each other and sneered at each other.

"Why of course I can be civil with Whitley. It is a virtue of a lady to be civil at all times." Weiss said with hidden venom.

"Quite true, but being civil is also a quality an heir of the Schnee family must cultivate as well. So I look forward to spending this immeasurable amount of time with you my sisters." Whitley said with his best presentable smile.

"Yes, how I enjoy us taking this time to reacquaint with each other." Weiss said while one of her eyes was twitching.

"Well then sister, shall we?" Whitley gestured for Weiss to go ahead of him. Almost would have been believable if one did not notice the glint in his eyes and his strained smile.

Winter watched as both Weiss and Whitley walked back to the auditorium where everyone else had remained.

"...This can only end badly."

Hope you enjoyed.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #team rwby #team rnjr #team alpn #rwby nora valkyrie #rwby nora #nora valkryie #rwby lie ren #lie ren #weiss #rwby weiss schnee #rwby yang xiao long #rwby yang #yang #blake belladonna #rwby blake #rwby mercury black #whitely schnee #fiona thyme #rwby qrow branwen #rwby salem #headmaster ozpin #ozpin #cinder fall #emerald sustrai #team cvfy #look into multiverse #sao abridged

[jawritter]

Broken Me...

Ch. 2

Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...

Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunately have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Singing in front of a crowd, crying Jensen, freaked out reader I guess? Language.. I think that’s it..

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2315

A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want More? Check out my masterlist!!

****MASTERLIST****

Rob and the band had really outdone themselves tonight, and  you hadn't had this much fun since your ex-fiance had taken you to Austin,Texas when Nathaniel Ratcliffe was playing on Austin city limits. 

It had been a long, hard transition to being alone...

You and Damon had been together for almost five years...

Learning how to live 'alone' was difficult to say the least, especially when you thought you had found your person, only to be proven very wrong.... 

Thank God y/f/n had been letting you crash in her guest room until you got your shit together, because when you two separated you didn’t know what was going to happen to you, or where you were even going to stay.... 

The two of you had been friends since kindergarten, and she knew you better than anyone else. So she knew not to push you into another relationship with some other douche bag just so that you would 'get over' Damon like the rest of your family were trying to do.

"Okay guys, I know there's one person who you've all been waiting for most of the night." 

The crowd was already screaming, and Rob was laughing at the fact that he didn't even have a chance to finish the sentence before the people started screaming. 

"Mr. Jensen Ackles could you come out here please sir!!" He yelled into the mic, and everybody lost their minds.

The sheer energy in the room was almost breathtaking..

Jensen came jogging up the stairs, and walked toward the mic as the crowd continued to scream. 

You have watched a lot of con videos since discovering SPN, probably to the point of a mold obsession, still on almost all the videos Jensen seemed…. Lighter? Then he did right now. 

The smile he wore now was cold, and unnatural. 

Forced…. 

Not quite reaching his eyes.... 

"Hello Dallas." He all but growls into the mic as the band starts to play the intro to Whipping Post. 

In that instant you were completely lost in the music, forgetting about your freating, and your habit of over analyzing everything, and just enjoying the moment . 

If you thought Jensen was hot just from watching him on TV, the man looked even better up close, and you were completely lost in him, must like you were sure just about everyone else in the room was. He had this ability to capture the stage, and the presents of everyone in the room. Not to mention he was extremely talented…  

You closely watched every move he made, letting the music overtake you, bringing you to a place we're for just a moment there was no pain, no bad memories, no heart break. 

Just Jensen and his voice... 

As he wrapped up the chorus of the song he came to the edge of the stage. Propping his Foot on the speaker close enough that you could almost touch him. 

When he looked down at you a cocky smirk spread across his face, and he winked. 

You damn near passed out, and your friend was next to you completely losing her mind. Grabbing your arm, shaking you screaming "Holy shit Jensen Fucking Ackles just winked at you!!"

You couldn't believe it… Surely he was just playing with the crowd, and only winked because he saw the camera sitting between the two of you...

As the song wrapped Jensen and Rob lean over, and whisper something to each other. Rob then looked your way, smirking at you. You didn’t really notice it though, because when Jensen walked back into the house lights you noticed he had the same shirt on as the guy from the elevator….

It was in that moment that you knew he’d heard you talking to Y/F/N about singing with him, and you had this sinking feeling you were about to be fuck, and not in the fun way...

"Shit." You said out loud, and Jensen stood there smiling at you like he'd read your lips. 

"What's wrong?" Y/f/n yelled over the noise of the crowd. Noticing the color drain from your face all of the sudden..

 "Jensen was in the elevator, he heard our conversation. He heard what you said about singing with him on stage." You yelled back at her over the noise, and to your horror she burst out into a fit of laughter.

You had never wanted to strangle someone so bad, but there was a room full of witnesses, you did make a mental note to get her back for this when you got back to the motel room.

"Hey Jensen," Rob said loudly over the mic. "What about that story you were telling me backstage... About the girls that you and Jared overheard in the elevator on the way to the concert tonight? Something about her friend wanting you to sing with her for her birthday? Wouldn't it be hysterical if they were, oh I don't, right in the front row over there." Rob says pointing right at you. 

The spot light following his finger, landing right in you, and if you could have fallen through the floor, and disappeared you would have done it. 

You tried to hide by sinking back into the crowd, but to no avail...

Jensen had already walked off of the stage, and was standing only about a  foot in front of you now with his hand out.

"Come on." He says, grinning at you. "It's your friend here's birthday wish after all. We can’t disappoint her.." He gave you another winking, and you wanted the floor to open up so you could jump in. The crowd all started making noises at once, and your friend started pushing you toward him.. 

Looks like this was happening, and there was nothing you could do about it without looking like the world’s biggest asshole there ever was..

Reluctantly you grabbed his hand, and allowed him to pull you to the stage. 

The crowd cheered for you, but you didn't really hear any of that. All you could concentrate on was Jensen's hand intertwined in your own. 

Feeling ever callous. 

His strong grip. 

Your skin tingling wherever his skin touched yours.

"Now if I heard your friend correctly you sing right?" He said, placing a mic in front of you, beautiful forest green eyes meeting your own y/e/c eyes.  

"That's what they tell me." You say, never breaking eye contact with him.

 "And, if I heard correctly, she wanted you to sing with me as her birthday present." He was smirking at you now, clearly enjoying himself. 

"That's what I heard."

You never broke eye contact with him as you two seemed to continue the game of twenty questions he was playing with you. 

"Well my final question Ms.?" He said, pausing for you to say your name. 

"Y/n"

 "Right, sorry, I forgot to ask you that." He threw his head back into one of his whole body laughs before continuing.. 

"If I heard correctly again she also requested the song Picture, by Kid rock and Sheryl Crow." He finally broke contact with you, and was typing on the tablet Rob had sat in front of him. 

"That's what she said." You retort back to him, earning yourself a smart ass look that before he continued…

"Well it just so happens Google was able to knock the dinosaur shit off this ancient ass song, and show us the lyrics." He fired back at you, and the crowd roared with laughter. 

"Well I'll be damn why not, I'm already up here." You say sarcastically, motioning around you, and Rob nearly feels backwards laughing at you, Jensen gave you his best bitchface as he motioned to the band for them to start to play.

Your momentary cocky sarcasm faded, and your stomach was doing flips with nerves. Until you heard his smooth yet ruff voice melt into you with the melody. Pulling you into your happy place.

Living my life in a slow hell

Different girl every night at the hotel

I ain't seen the sunshine in three damn days

Been fueling up on cocaine and whisky

Wish I had a good girl to miss me

Oh Lord I wonder if I'll ever change my ways

I put your picture away

Sat down and cried today

I can't look at you

While I'm lying next to her

I put your picture away

Sat down and cried today

I can't look at you while I'm lying next to her

He looks at you and half heartedly smiles. You could tell he was a little nervous as to what was about to come out of you, for all he knew you couldn’t sing your way out of a wet sack, boy didn’t he get the surprise of his life as your voice blended in with the music, sounding almost as good a Sherl herself. Turning he gave the crowd an approving nod, you even got a few cheers out of it..

I called you last night in the hotel

Everyone knows but they won't tell

But their half-hearted smiles tell me something just ain't right

I've been waiting on you for a long time

Fueling up on heartaches and cheap wine

I ain't heard from you in three damn nights

I put your picture away

I wonder where you've been

I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him

I put your picture away

I wonder where you've been

I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him

Jensen was now circling around you, pulling you closer to him with one arm, fully into making a  performance out of this now that he was sure you could do it. You followed his lead not wanting to look like an idiot, facing him now you start with your line again.

I saw ya yesterday with an old friend

It was the same old same how have you been

Since you've been gone my world's been dark and grey

You reminded me of brighter days

I hoped you were coming home to stay

I was headed to church

I was off to drink you away

As he sang his lines to you and you to him you could almost see pain there, and it threw you… When he got to his last line he threw everything he had into it, and a stray tear fell down his face. He quickly duked he face to the other side of yours in what probably looked like a very intimate touch to the crowd, when really he was just hiding to wipe his face. He recovers quickly as the two of you finished the song, and none one was ever going to be any the wiser...

I thought about you for a long time

Can't seem to get you off my mind

I can't understand why we're living life this way

I found your picture today

I swear I'll change my ways

I just called to say I want you to come back home

I found your picture today

I swear I'll change my ways

I just called to say I want you

To come back home

I just called to say I love you

Come back home

As the crowd cheered he bolted off the stage, walking as fast as he could toward the stairs, behind the curtain, and out of your sight.. 

Rob grabbed your hand holding it in the air like you won a wrestling match, but you were pretty sure he was just trying to get your attention away from a fleeing Jensen... 

"Y/n and Jensen everybody." 

There were cameras, and phones videoing everywhere. Y/f/n was practically hyperventilating in her seat, you were a little glad you couldn’t see the whole crowd, because you were almost sure you would have passed out now that the adrenaline was fading... 

When you went to exit the stage off to the side, Richard grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side of the stage out of everyone's view. 

"What the hell was that? Why did Jensen run off the stage?" Richard said, and for a moment you just stood there shocked, and confused at his behavior. 

Then it hit you, Jensen wasn’t acting like you thought he might have been while you were singing..

He really was crying…

 "I don't know!" 

Your Stomach fell to your feet, and you wanted nothing more than to get away from everyone in that moment. Jensen wasn’t acting, something was wrong, and he was trying to hide it, so you weren't about to tell Richard that Jesnen was crying..

Just as you were about to panic, you feel a huge hand grab your shoulder, and Jared’s voice boom from behind you over the music. 

"It wasn't you." He said to you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Jensen’s just got some personal things going on right now, and he needed to get off the stage, he’s fine. Go and enjoy the concert. You were friggin' awesome up there!" 

He pulls you into a tight hug, giving Richard a stern look over your shoulder that you didn't see..

“Thanks" you say, hugging him back before  practically running back to your seat. Leaving a very confused Richard to talk to Jared alone. 

You slid back into the crow as random people high-five you, and slap you on the back. 

You were determined not to tell Y/f/n anything was wrong. Whatever Jensen had going on was obviously personal, and you did not want to be the one to start rumors, or throw him under the bus for people to question him about what was wrong. 

So you pushed the worry down and tried your best to slow your rapidly beating heart, determined to keep what happened on that stage to yourself if it killed you...

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Binge Tag: 

@sarahbaker2010​

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles binge read #jensen ackles dark fic #hurt!jensen #cry!jensen #x reader insert #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jensen ackles series #jawritter

[katcadecascade]

Storybook for the Gods

Fair Game Week: AU/Freeday

God AU

Ao3

They say the gods left to become the stars in the sky.

They say the gods obeyed the Brothers Grimm, agreeing that humanity was a failure.

They say the gods died and their children are doing a horrible job.

Qrow says that everyone should just shut up.

It’s one thing for the world to contain monsters and magic but no. Humanity loves, hates, fears, and respects the new religions the left over gods have made.

The Remnant Gods as they’ve been titled.

Technically demigods as good old Oz would describe but that doesn’t change the fact that the chain of godhood falls onto their shoulders.

Qrow can only speak for Vale’s side of the story, the dominion of the great and powerful Odin where he bestowed powers to his own children as he goes on his own journey for research and wisdom.  

But nowadays he goes by Ozpin, the only old god that didn’t abandon the new gods of Remnant.

Qrow can understand why the god changed his name. No one would think a scholarly dressed old man is secretly the god of Vale, wielding a cane and not a spear. Disguises are necessary now that civilizations are slowly rioting against the Remnant Gods.

Tensions are as high as ever what with mortal heroes rising and fighting in the name of their people and not in the name of any of the gods. Qrow can’t blame them, Hell, he was once one of them.

Not anymore ever since Oz saved his life.

If Qrow had to pick a god to owe a life debt with, Odin had to be the best pick of the batch. No way was Qrow going end up in servitude for Horus, that war god has been raging Vacuo’s deserts for centuries. He did hear rumors that Fuji was still a beloved god, distance as she was ever since she chosen a mountain as her vessel.

Another elder god is from the north but no one has heard a peep from him in nearly a millennium.

That is until today.

Qrow is a relatively a new asset of dear old Oz, just shy of having a decade’s worth of experience under his belt as Odin’s black bird. So he wasn’t expecting much when he was flying through a winter coated forest.

The mission for the year is to find this rouge Valkyrie, rumored to be harboring souls away from their designated afterlife. As the crow flew above the dark trees, looking for any sign of the whisky sparkles of souls detaching from their bodies, a sudden cold breeze hit his face and along with it, a scroll.

It’s not often paper mail is delivered this way, nature spirits keep to their selves or to nature gods. Somehow a winter spirit by the chill of it knew who Qrow worked for and on the edge of the rolled paper was a cursive address of ‘To Odin’

Ominous, not quite, suspicious, only to his birdbrain but curious, oh he definitively is.

Flying back to the cottage, miles away from the rest of the forest and small towns still growing, Qrow keeps the letter in his peak, its edges flapping wilding in the cold winds.

As if already aware, Oz is waiting at the doorstep. His arm up as Qrow took his landing with ease.

It took two attempts for the god to nab the paper from the bird having fun playing keep away.

“Very funny Qrow,” Ozpin chided, finally getting the scroll.

As he unrolls it, Qrow hops off and wills his feathers back into skin, a rush of shivers getting his bones into its original shape. He dusts off stray feathers out of his hair, “Got it from the northern winds. Do you know what that means?”

“Nicholas,” he answers, his eyebrows knitting together, “he needs us in Atlas immediately.”

“Wait us?” Qrow peeks over the god’s shoulder and sure enough the letter is asking for Qrow by his title, Muninn.

Now that’s pretty curious. Gods don’t often seek help from other gods of a different dominion. Usually they get it through their own pantheon and even that is a hassle.

Just look at what happened between Thor and Loki.

“A magical shapeshifter isn’t exactly a secret among gods,” Oz explained. “Making two in this new world is even more of a gossip.”

Oh yeah, he didn’t take in account of Huginn’s rogue status. Raven is probably making waves in Mistral right now.

Still though, there are only a handful of people Qrow introduced himself as Muninn. A few of them were Oz’ old friends but also two humans he and Raven befriended.

Last he checked, Taiyang and Summer are on a sea expedition in the Burning Ocean.

Yeah, Qrow decided not to go with them for obvious flaming reasons.

So now he’s pondering over on why the son of Atlas is asking for him and his patron god for a visit.

“We’re taking the express trip right?”

“You’re always so eager for a fast travel.”

“What, do you expect me to flap all the way to Atlas?” Qrow flaps his human limps.

“As amusing as that is, no,” Oz chuckled. He pockets the letter and holds up his cane, “Nicholas needs us now.”

The intricate clockwork mechanism in the cane’s handle winds up and it ticks loudly as a green light pulses between the weapon and its creator’s hands.

As rune circles appeared below their feet, Qrow giddily bounces on his feet.

This was always his favorite part.

A rainbow of colors consumes the god and the shapeshifter and all they can feel is pulsating brightness as their entire beings are flying through the sky.

In a matter of seconds, Qrow and Ozpin find their selves at the foot of a temple built upon the highest mountain of the northern lands.

Only the oldest of gods know of this place ever since the real Olympus was tarnished when their namesakes left. The ruins of Olympus only had one resident, a power older than most gods.

The last son of Atlas has the power of a titian but its strength is a mere tale since the old man rarely leaves the mountain peak. Qrow may not know the reasons but it must be similar to Oz’ own lifestyle.

Elder gods have increasingly become isolated from the world, leaving the Remnant gods with all the pleasures and pains of warding over humans. It’s a hassle really, getting devoted to or smiting usurpers or whatever. Again, Qrow can’t relate since his god chose to live in a cottage in the middle of nowhere.

This lonely damaged temple is Nicholas’ choice and honestly it is a nice view.

Ignoring the Olympians’ rumble, there is a grand stone staircase that curves into the mountainside, covered in chilly fog as it dives down. Beyond that is the view of the tundra of Mantle, a white slate with dots of cities.

Qrow is very tempted to go free falling into the clouds, feel the wind rush at him as his heart races. He can picture it now, falling as a human only to shift into feathers right as the world is nearing.

“It’s not the time for that Muninn,” Oz lectured, lightly whacking his cane at Qrow’s leg.

Muninn, he’s only referred to that title when they have company.

Tearing his gaze away from the clouds, the thrill of flying, Qrow looks at the only temple left standing.  

Walking out of the temple of Atlas’ son are two men.

The tall one of black hair is easily recognized by his lighting blue eyes. James, the son of Zeus and is also a major stick in the ass according to Qrow.

“It’s good to see you, Odin,” James greeted but his tone is always so grim and serious. His eyes narrow at Qrow, “Why did you bring your pet?”

“Hey, I got invited by name,” Qrow huffed, straightening his back to have some sense of pride. It still doesn’t compare to James’ height but it’s the intention that counts.

Qrow doesn’t care if James is a demigod turned Remnant God, he can still match his speed no matter the wind pressure. Hell, James is not the only god to question Qrow’s power as a former mortal.

Speaking of mortals, Qrow notices the second guy, someone he distinctly recalls meeting at the piers of Midpass, “Wait, hold up, you’re that boat guy.”

A chuck passes through pink lips, lightening up his teal eyes, “That’s not my official title but yeah, that’s me.” The brunet holds his hand out, “I’m Clover, son of Poseidon.”

“Yep,” Qrow shakes his hand, “boat guy for sure.”

From the humble smile and adorable cheeks, Qrow innocently mistook this guy as mortal. He didn’t elude power like James or Oz and instead just came off as a regular fisherman.

A cute one at that since Qrow, day drinking with his friends, threw a bunch of flirts at Clover.

That’s probably why he didn’t clue in the fact that Clover suddenly appeared before them right as Summer and Tai were boat shopping for their expedition.

“I knew you were a pretty bird but I didn’t think you’d be the Muninn as well,” Clover winked.

“I’m just full of surprises,” Qrow shrugged off, “something Jimmy here can attest to.”

James grumbles, “Let’s go inside already, Nicholas has waited enough.”

Due to pride alone, James walks ahead with Ozpin at his side.

Clover follows with Qrow, as if he’s more interesting than an ancient Greek temple, “So you’re really Muninn? That’s amazing, there are so many stories about you and you’ve only been a god for a decade or so.”

“Technically I’m not a god,” he corrected before James could but in, “I just serve under Odin.”

“Not all the time right? I thought you’d be traveling with your friends.”

“Nope,” he popped, looking around the temple’s interior.

It’s all white pillars and high ceilings. The place has typical fancy architecture that scholars would die for even if there are some dust and dirt here or there.

Qrow continues, “If I went with them then their ride would definitely fall off the ends of the world or fall into the river Styx.”

“What does that mean?”

He ignores the concern from Clover as they enter the last room. It’s set up as an altar room where a stage is under a skylight. On the stage is Nicholas, the son of Atlas, and a pale woman with white, shimmering hair.

“Welcome all of you,” Nicholas nods with a sad smile, “I and Fria thank you all for coming.”

“Nicholas, is something wrong?” James immediately asks, the room dipping a few degrees colder, “This is about the storms in the west yes? I knew there is something coming from the horizon, I can feel it and-“

A heavy laugh stops the lightning god. Nicholas’ smile grows just a bit, “You focus too much on bad news, James.”

“Someone has to,” James side glances at Clover.

He shrugs, grinning innocently, “I just think you purposely give yourself dark clouds.”

“That was one time, Clover.”

“Yeah and it nearly flooded Athens.”

Qrow has twin instincts to laugh at James but also be terrified at the casual mention of how he almost flooded a populated city. These gods and their temper tantrums really are ridiculous, even more so if humanity suffers from it.

Oz taps down his cane, gaining everyone’s attention, “So why are we here, Nicholas?” His eyes shifted to Fria, “Although I’m starting to understand.”

The woman beams and suddenly a veil of frost coat her hair as she grasps Nicholas’ big hands. Her own hands are small and decorated with frostbite but their held hands brings a warm feeling to the room.

“We’re getting married,” Fria announces, a loving gaze on her fiancé as they nudge closer together, “but we want something more than that.”

“We plan to start a family,” Nicholas explains and now the tension in the room is back as the guests realized just who these parents-to-be are.

A child between these two would have the lineage of a titan, a being far superior to a god, and, from the looks of it, a winter spirit.

Qrow recognizes Fria now, her winter powers eluding off of her effortlessly. It is that same breeze that found him and that coldness still clung to him as he stares at the faery.

“That’s too dangerous,” James warns with a thunder in his core.

Clover grounds his cousin with a steady hand on his arm, “They know that and,” teal eyes trace over to Oz, “you asked for Odin to do something about this right?”

The wise god of Vale steps onto the stage, looking wearier than Qrow has ever seen him.

“You’re both giving up your godhood,” the old man said.

“We want to be human,” Nicholas corrects.

Qrow blinks, “Oh.”

That’s something he has never expected to hear. A titan and a faery want to become human to protect their future child from infinite power and consequences.

For Qrow he gave up his humanity to protect himself, well that’s what he claimed after Raven left him. He believed that working for Ozpin would further help humanity or so he hopes.

Muninn built up a name as an omen to malice but Qrow recently sees he’s a harbinger as well. Maybe it was the powers or some part of Qrow that amplified the moment he swore oath to Odin. There has been a trail of bad luck following him.

His only solution is to stray away from humanity, protect them from a distance as Oz has done.

Now before him are two ancient beings deciding to give up their powers and live in a world where humans are slowly thinking for their selves, where the gods are no longer their priority. Instead their priorities are their families.

That is what Nicholas and Fria want.

Oz nods gravely, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Wait what?” Clover questioned.

“Of course,” James bitterly concludes, “If Odin can grant power to mortals,” he gestures to Qrow and then James nervously gulps, “then he could do the reverse for his fellow gods.”

Okay, from that perspective that sounds terrifying, Qrow thinks, but this is Ozpin they’re talking about. The old man has spent eons making mistakes with humans and gods and other magical beings but has chosen to repeat for it all.

For some reason Qrow is one of the first things Ozpin saves and for that Qrow trusts him forever.

“I’m not that great and powerful,” Oz assures, smiling kindly at James.

James does the quietest relieved sighs.

“Or am I?” Oz notes humorously.

An angry noise comes out of James, his shocked and fearful face making Qrow laugh out loud.

Ozpin returns the conversation back to the couple, “I can do it but your powers will have to go somewhere because I for sure won’t take it for my own.”

“We thought of that,” Fria nods. “The sky is a fitting place to place winter and strength into it. I’m going ahead and naming it an aurora, after my mother.”

“It’ll be lovely,” Nicholas agrees and then the couple turns to Qrow, “and there’s one last thing too.”

With everyone’s attention on Qrow, he has the sudden need to fly away before something awkward or unfortunate happens, “Um, hi?”

“You’re Muninn, the Bird of Memory,” he announces and since Qrow blinks and points at himself, still confused, the son of Atlas clarifies, “We want to forget our godhood. You can take them away.”

“What?” He, Clover, and James practically yell.

“He can do that?” James baulks.

“You can do that?” Clover awes.

“I can do that?” Qrow nearly chokes on his spit.

Oz, helpful as he is, only shrugged, “Well that is a theory now.”

“Please,” Fria begs, walking over to the shapeshifter. Snowflakes trail behind her as she reaches Qrow and takes his hands into her cold ones, “We’re tired of this eternity we wait in and once we become humans we can actually start living.”

Her eyes look just like that tundra their temple views over, cold and clean and goes on for miles filled with emptiness. Fria barely reaches Qrow’s shoulders but there is an ancient power in her being that makes Qrow shiver.

It would be a mistake to think of her as human with the snow on top of her robes and how her hair is literally a mist of frost. Yet the gentle slope of her face reminds Qrow so much of his tribal Chief. Both lived a long life and now they want rest.

“I’ll do my best,” Qrow says, his voice barely trembling at this promise.

The winter spirit’s smile warms up the room, “Thank you, Muninn.”

The ceremony gets started immediately because gods can be impatient like that.

At the stage area, Ozpin stands as the holy figure before the couple, their hands held together. James and Clover stand on the side of Atlas’ son. The two were chosen to be here today because Nicholas trusts them to take care of their people.

Qrow is on Fria’s side of the stage and he still feels out of place. They only need him for his powers which aren’t news to him. Nearly everyone Qrow meets wants to use him for one purpose or another. But this is for a good cause, he remembers himself as he watches the couple share tender looks and words.

Their vows are of the typical stuff that happens in weddings, promises to love each other and all that jazz. Qrow quietly chokes up when they promise to die in each other’s arms.

The concept of death is different between gods and humans. If a god dies… well actually Qrow doesn’t know. Gods just become nothing, absolutely nothing but dust.

For humans, Qrow once wondered where he’ll go because the gods of death had different rules and jurisdictions and he doesn’t want to learn any of that since he’s pretty immortal at this point.

Nicholas and Fria finish their vows and Ozpin wraps it up.

With a tap of his cane, a brilliant light captures the room and if Qrow squints his eyes he can barely see how the colors are moving around Nicholas and Fria.

The light dims and with it, the chill of the temple disappears from the temple. Fria has pinkness in her cheeks and she buries her warm hands into her husband’s white hair. Nicholas himself looks almost bigger now that there is no more weight on his shoulders, a cursed pain that haunts his bloodline.

Human, Qrow realizes and accepts.

All of the colors are swirling above their heads, blues and pinks and purples dancing together until Oz sends it up high, passing through the open ceiling and to the dark sky above. The colors blanket the night and its stars.

They all stand witness to the first ever aurora borealis.

“Muninn,” Oz commands and waves him over to stand in his place.

Right, moment of truth, he thinks as he is presented to the newly wedded and human couple. Even without their magic, their eyes are still old and weary.

Not thinking, Qrow carefully presses the tips of his fingers on their foreheads.

As far as Qrow knows, Muninn can do two things: turn into a bird and kick ass.

He doesn’t quite know where the memory association came from but then again other gods can say the same thing with their gimmicks.

It can be through sheer luck or coincidence or fate that led Qrow to this moment.

Memory is not a title Qrow thought he would bare and yet here he stands, feeling something tingle into his bones as a light glows from Nicholas’ and Fria’s foreheads. Energy flows from them and into Qrow and it starts to do more than buzz his bones.

He can’t breathe as images are passing behind his eyes.

It’s the old world full of magic that no human could ever imagine where nearly everyone is a demigod and nature spirits thrived without fear of pollution. The world has colors Qrow didn’t think existed and now it lives on through his head, an honor and a chain.

Qrow blinks away new tears as the two ancient beings give up their lives to finally get some peace in their souls.

It is all over before he knows it. They wanted to forget everything from their godhood so Qrow tries his best as promised. He leaves things in there, the knowledge of old friends and the joys and grief shared.

Fria will know how she felt when she first felt summer, how Nicholas brought her a literal ball of heat. Nicholas will know how light he felt the first time Fria made him laugh, a rusty thing in his lifetime. They will both know how they fell in love, when the sun kissed the sky as they held each other in their arms as eternity passed them by.

Lastly it is this moment, the details of the other gods will be vague but their hope and relief that this is finally happening will stay with them until their dying day.

Qrow lets go, his face wet and heart beating achingly slow. While his eyes are blurry he sees how young Fria’s and Nicholas’ eyes are.

The couple blinks slowly but their smiles are wide, like they know what happened but he doubts that, he just took away their memories.

Ozpin and James handle their retirement plans, something about sending them to Athens where Pietro, the son of Athena, will smooth out the details.

“Are you okay?” Oz asks and steads a hand on Qrow’s trembling arm.

He tries to speak but his tongue is heavy. His whole body shivers with the weight of winter’s rage. Qrow bites his lip harshly, snapping himself back into stillness. He manages to get out, “I’m good.”

Oz frowns at the lie but doesn’t argue. Instead he walks over to Nicholas, Fria, and James where he readies his spell and a rainbow flies them away.

“Qrow,” Clover warns with great concern but he waves him off.

“I feel fine,” Qrow says before he collapses.

The son of Poseidon catches him easily, his muscles proving its worth.

Muninn is known for his elegance and raw power. Black wings hold the winds of old and can cut through the toughest of stones. Right now that warrior is a twitching, gasping mess who’s clinging tightly to the only person grounding him.

“Qrow, hey, look at me,” Clover carefully guides a hand through black hair, making their eyes meet. He rearranges their bodies, complexly supporting Qrow’s weight to cradle the shapeshifter in his arms.

Two lifetimes are running around in the bird’s head, too much energy with no outlet and they are literally squeezing Qrow’s own memories into a peanut shell.

Wow, Qrow really should have thought this plan through but he didn’t want to ruin two gods’ wedding day. He’s not that much of an asshole. That and he didn’t want to be smited.

Too bad his brain is occupied with tearing itself apart to even think of a resolution. He has two brain cells and they don’t belong here.

Literally, Qrow sees nothing but never melting snow that is casted upon men and beasts alike simply because they wandered into territory of the winter faeries.

Another memory takes the reins, this time Qrow is crushed with the weight of the sky as Nicholas attempts to save his father from eternal punishment.

It didn’t work. Nicholas stood numbly as Atlas’ body dispersed into atoms at the moment the moon shattered, thus starting a territory war between the sky gods.

Now that’s a story Qrow never thought he’d learn, it would be really cool if he learned this in a less painful, mind aching, way.

“Hey breathe with me,” a warm hand is pressed to his collarbone, heating the skin as Qrow’s heartbeat flutters.

With lungs on fire, Qrow barely registers the rawness in his throat.

Has he been screaming? The wails of agony from the grieving son of Atlas rings between Qrow’s eardrums.

It hurts so much, an intense drumbeat in not only his brain but the rest of his flesh and blood and he just wants it to stop.

But gods don’t get that luxury do they?

Humans can live and die and rest while gods just keep on going and going until infinity yells at them to catch up already.

Somewhere in the raptures, Qrow questions why exactly he gave up his own mortality.  

“Qrow, I need you to focus on me,” a blurry figure begs and closes the inches between them.

Their foreheads meet and despite the bright light returning, all Qrow can see are teal eyes.

Burning sea salt takes over all sense of smell as well as the sudden loud crash of waves at the portside. The little sea village in Midpass suffers from near endless heat due to the enchanting fire that rides the seafoam.

Qrow’s sight of that ocean is torn away as a familiar, gruff laughter catches his attention.

On the wooden pier are other fisherman but three visitors are out of place. It is mind boggling and an out of body experience to see Summer and Tai walk around with a Qrow joking with them.

This was a month ago and yet this version of Qrow appears years younger, cracking a wirily smile at Tai as Summer throws a mock punch his way.

He can’t recall what he teased them about because this isn’t Qrow’s memory, it’s Clover’s.

When the trio is passing by, Summer voices her desire to on a sea voyage. Tai, being logical for once, points out that they don’t have a ship.

That’s when the son of Poseidon heeds this call, friendly introducing himself as an expert boatman or seller or whatever because Qrow, both present and past, is not paying attention to the dialogue.

Past Qrow is ogling the sheer amount of muscles the fisherman has while Muninn, the ghost of the future, feels everything Clover felt.

It starts with piqued interest in the trio, all eluding different personalities and loud friendship but the dark haired man is who really catches Clover’s eye.

As a god of the sea, water orientated powers comes to mind. So it feels kind of out of place to sense a person’s luck scale.

Maybe Clover got the luck thing from his other parent, that’s not uncommon considering a lot of Remnant Gods have multiple heritages.

Anyway, only a god with this type of power can see how bad luck just reeks off of Qrow and finding this out is really ticking Qrow off.

He knew it. He knew that he’s nothing but a bad luck charm. Qrow was right in his argument with Summer that he shouldn’t tag along. He didn’t to be the reason his friends drowned or burned to death.

A new feeling takes over. Its strong warmth pushes aside the misery inside the black bird. This fast heartbeat, breath leaving lungs, it all happened when teal eyes met red.

“So you’re an expert boat guy, huh?” Qrow had said with a bit of slur. The drinks in this town were rumored to be a High John favorite and he wanted to taste. The results ended up being this flirt and wink, “I just so happen to love seamen.”

“Oh my fucking gods, Qrow,” Tai seethed.

Summer and Clover are busy laughing, a breathless energy making Clover feel lighter than air as he blushes furiously. With each laugh, the ocean rumbles, something Qrow did not notice before.

“I am so honored to hear that,” Clover returned a blinding smile once the urge to barrel over laughing is settled.

“He’s better at this I swear,” Summer giggled, “Well actually no, he can be terrible at this too.”

“Brat,” hissed Qrow.

“No, no,” Clover shook his head with a grin, “I think you’re doing just fine.”

“You sir are one in a million,” Tai rolls his eyes.

“Huh, in that case, lucky you,” Clover winked to Qrow.

In that tipsy state of mind, Qrow beamed, practically preening at being called the opposite of what usual mocks him day in and day out.

That’s when Clover’s emotions shift a bit. There is flustered wonderment at seeing Qrow just simply smiling like this is the happiest moment in his life.

A sudden need to see more of that smile bursts in Clover, a selfless urge to be the reason Qrow smiles or at least keep this man in the world a little longer than death will plan.

Clover’s bundle of positively is conflicting with Qrow’s confusion on the matter. It’s a bit flattering to witness this but it is also a bombardment of sensations he doesn’t know how to unpack.

The fleeting images of Qrow and Clover in that perfect sunlight fades away. The world returns to the nightlight temple, the aurora coloring the sky.

Qrow ever so slowly leans away from Clover just enough to have their noses brush up.

“What was that?” He asks.

With the couple’s memories, he felt drained but with Clover, he honestly feels better.

“I don’t know,” Clover admits, a blush setting on his cheeks, “I just wanted to stop your pain.”

Well it worked as his head feels less heavy. It’s somewhere in him still, the knowledge he took away from Nicholas and Fria. As for Clover’s memory, it probably wasn’t stolen at least that’s what he guesses.

“I didn’t,” a sudden horror is in his head, Qrow needs to check, “do you still remember how we met?”

“Of course,” Clover assures and he rubs his hands up and down Qrow’s arms.

“Cool, um what was all of that?” He swallows down the saliva building up in his mouth, “All of those feelings and stuff?”

Teal eyes go wide and his cheeks equally turn red, “Oh you would feel that too, um. It’s just my first impression of you.”

“…If this is about the seaman thing, I really could’ve said something better.”

A laugh surprises him as Clover’s chest shakes with each rumble, “It was one of the best pickup lines I have ever heard.”

“Okay that has to be a lie.”

“No really,” he shook his head, “You really impressed me.”

Scoffing, Qrow shifts out of Clover’s arm despite liking how it felt to be encircled by them, “Now I know you’re a liar.” He scuffles over to sit at the edge of the stage. Leaning back, Qrow rolls his neck to stare straight up at the skylight, “So that’s an aurora.”

The demigod takes a seat next to him, “It’s their last gift to the world.”

“Is it for the gods or humans?” Qrow asks. The memories of the gods have lulled itself to sleep in his head but flickers of a beautiful world with a full moon catches his breath.

Maybe they missed their old world and they wanted to put a bit of it back into reality.

“Well, why did you become a power?”

He snapped his head to the demigod, not at all seeing the connection.

Clover actually lays his back down, his arm crossed behind his head to watch the sky. He continues, “Was it for Odin or for something else?”

Only close friends of his know the reason. He and Raven were considered heirs for their Chieftain but after a tragic monster attack they lost most of their tribe. Ozpin was there to save those who remained and as their tradition, the twins owed him a life dept.

They unknowingly pled servitude to a hidden elder god, just their luck.

All Oz wanted was some company so Qrow easily agreed and traveled with him while Raven took care of their tribe. Along the way the god later revealed his true power and granted the twins immortality for their loyalties.

They became Muninn and Huginn, the Black Birds of Odin.

But Raven saw it all differently, not at first but gradually she grew to despise how Oz just isolated himself from the world. He could’ve saved the tribe before disaster struck.

Qrow had many disagreements with his sister but this was the pinnacle fight that changed everything. He picked Ozpin over the tribe that forced him to kill another kid to have a place in their brutal community.

To him, both gods and humans are alike through bloodshed and harshness and bitterness.

It didn’t matter to Qrow if he just ended up living a hundred years longer than fate planned. He wanted to get away from everyone, something he believed Ozpin once felt until they started taking initiative on saving other towns from monsters and chaotic magic.

“I used to think it was all for humanity, the good parts of it,” Qrow answered, “but seeing Fria and Nicholas, well, I didn’t think gods needed saving.”

He looks down at Clover, still gazing at the stars. Just like the first time they met, Qrow doesn’t see anything god-like in him, aside from the arms but his point still stands.

Curiosity takes over as Qrow asks, “Clover, would you ever do what they did?”

“I never thought to consider it until today,” he said, his voice soft and yet Qrow’s complete focus is on it. “Maybe if I met the right person,” Clover trails off and then teal eyes meet red again.

The memory of the ocean is at the edges of Qrow’s vision, enrapturing how stunning Clover looked in simple fisherman grab. That’s not something he’ll admit out loud, the amount of pockets are ridiculous.

Clover is undeniably handsome but he looks so human too, something that Qrow once was. The echoes of the demigod’s feelings mix in with his own, that sense of amazement at how utter goodness radiates off of him.

They may have met only twice so far and yet what is time compared to the immortals?

That and the single memories starts to bleed more than Qrow imaged. He felt Clover’s love for the ocean, its smell and feeling in his soul. How Clover was so charmed by Summer and Tai, instantly admiring their tenacity and enthusiasm for exploring.

The world looked different in Clover’s eyes. The same thing is said about Qrow.

In the memory, Qrow looked almost enchanting and not sleep deprived as he is normally. It’s weird to see himself look so human when he never appeared as joyful until he left the tribe.

Clover sits back up, “Qrow, I think you’re lovely.” He blinks at the sudden compliment and usually he won’t believe it but the glimpse in Clover’s head is convincing. “Meeting you just feels right to me, like it wasn’t just fate or luck that gave me the chance to see you again.”

His teal eyes are searching desperately for a reaction, any indication that risking his heart out will have a good outcome.

Qrow doesn’t know where this will lead, not at all as he drops a hand over Clover’s.

Not a lot can be said about the son of Poseidon, just lore and sea stories, but when he met the not-quite mortal Qrow was equally intrigued and wanting to get more of this fisherman.

He denied Summer’s teasing that it was a crush but now that he suddenly got invited to a wedding with Clover, finding out there’s more to his godhood and how kind he is, Qrow finds himself feeling very human.

Too long he spent his immortality alone, abandoned by Raven and Ozpin still keeping secrets. Summer and Tai were a drastic improvement in his life and now here he is, presented with something new and raw.

“Well,” Qrow settles, weaving their fingers together, “we have the rest of eternity to figure this thing out between us.”

#fair game week #fair game #fairgameweek2020 #qrow branwen #clover ebi #ozpin #my fic

[bwaystanforlife]

This is Not How I Imagined Coming Out of the Closet

Summary: At a troupe party, Simon and Jeremy end up being paired up for Seven Minutes in Heaven. The combination of close quarters, alcohol, and Jeremy’s eyes do nothing to help Simon make good, Catholic decisions. 

Word Count: 2301

Also on ao3

When Simon first arrived at Jolene’s house, he did not expect to be stuck in a closet with the cutest boy he had ever seen. He had arrived with Lilette excited to spend the night hanging out with his closest friends. He had a feeling alcohol would be involved considering Jolene was hosting; but five beers and seven Troye Sivan songs later, he was loudly singing (if you could even call it that) along to “We Are Young” with the rest of the troupe. Loudly giggling as the song finished up, Simon fell on the couch to stabilize himself. Activity buzzed around the whole room as the next song started to play. A loud gasp rang out above the music though.

“We should play a game!” Jolene practically screamed at the troupe. Lots of heads nodded at this idea.

“Truth or dare?” Maashous suggested.

“No!” Lexi screamed. The last time they played truth or dare, Lexi ended up abandoned at Burger King after embarrassing herself in front of the girl she had a crush on. Lexi ended up getting an Uber home, and she claimed that she did not get to have it her way that night.

“Spin the bottle?” Clark held his hand in the air like he was still in school.

“Lame!” Violet shot back. The last time they played spin the bottle, the bottle never landed on Violet. She ended up getting bored and left the party early.

“How about Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Lilette called out. Everyone cheered at this fresh suggestion. The troupe hadn’t played this game yet, and they couldn’t wait to ruin it for someone so that they are scarred for life. The troupe got in a somewhat circular shape and sat waiting for someone to start.

“So how are we gonna do this?” Michael asked suddenly when everyone got awkwardly quiet.

“I guess we could spin a bottle to decide who gets to go in the closet with us, and the person who gets picked by the bottle chooses the next person to spin the bottle.” Robbie shrugged.

“How do we keep from people never getting chosen then?” Violet asked clearly frustrated at the idea of letting a bottle make decisions again.  

“Once you’ve been picked, you can’t be picked again,” Robbie assured her.

“But how do we decide who goes first?” Cheryl questioned.

“Spin the bottle and then let them spin the bottle,” Robbie answered. Everyone nodded at this sensible answer, and Jolene leaned forward with a brown bottle to spin. It quickly spun around the circle-like blob the group had formed, and it landed on Violet.

“Fucking finally…” Violet muttered under her breath referring to the last time when the bottle never chose here. She leaned forward and spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist. The bottle smoothly moved in a circle picking Violet’s partner. It slowed to a stop on none other than Lexi. The two girls quickly got up and headed to the closet they had set aside for the game. Clark started the timer on his phone, and everyone tried to find something to do. Eventually everyone began drunkenly singing along to the musical theatre playlist Maashous had put on. At some point the opening to “Bend and Snap” started to play.

“Oooh! This is my jam!” Jeremy screamed jumping up excitedly. The troupe laughed loudly at his sudden outburst. Simon’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw Jeremy sing and dance excitedly to the Legally Blonde song.

It had been a couple of days since Jeremy had kissed him in the parking lot, and Simon could not stop replaying it in his head. Despite all of his efforts to try and forget the other boy, he would never leave his mind. Simon had already broken up with Annabelle knowing that he couldn’t keep leading her on like he was, but he couldn’t be honest with Jeremy either. His family would never accept him, but Simon still wanted Jeremy. He had a feeling with all of this dancing and alcohol, though, he was not going to be making any good, Catholic decisions tonight.

The timer went off, and Michael let the two girls know that they were free to leave the closet. They came out a little worse for wear eliciting a few giggles from the other members of the troupe. It was clear what they had gotten up to.

“Okay Lexi, who are you going to pick?” Cheryl crowed.

“I choose Sasha,” Lexi stated with a smirk. Sasha just shrugged and spun the bottle in front of her. Gwen was chosen by the bottle that the troupe decided to give all of the power to for the night. The two females headed for the closet, and everyone cat called them as they left their fun little group. The game continued on with Gwen and Sasha walking out of the closet laughing maniacally and whispering. Gwen chose Robbie as the next candidate, and the bottle chose for him to go in the closet with Clark. The two guys exited the closet talking about something that seemed to relate to fantasy football.

“Heteros…” Jeremy groaned rolling his eyes. Everyone around him bust out laughing, and Simon couldn’t help but smile at his joke.

Clark chose Michael next after seeing him trying to bolt for the kitchen to get out of being picked. Everyone knew he liked Sasha; and since Sasha wasn’t an option anymore, he clearly didn’t want to play. Michael’s eyes shot daggers at Clark before he spun the bottle. He let out a sigh of relief as the bottle landed on the biggest lesbian in the troupe, Jolene. Jolene groaned at this clearly wanting to have been paired with someone she could actually hook up with. She got up anyways and followed Michael into the closet.

As the group waited for their time to run out, Simon felt his eyes drifting over to where Jeremy sat. He was talking with Harmony and Francis and was very animated about it. Simon had no clue what it could be about, but he wished he did. He found himself wishing to hear Jeremy speak, laugh, and sing all of the time. He just wanted to be near him in every way possible, but he knew that could never happen. Simon could never be with Jeremy; and even if he could, he probably ruined any chance he ever had with him.

When their time ran out, Jolene and Michael walked out of the closet seeming very proud of themselves.

“What did you two do?” Harmony called out laughing.

“We have decided to try and start an LGBT+ club at Stanton!” Jolene cheered. Everyone in the troupe cheered at this in support of their friends.

“Finally!” Jeremy screamed adding comedic relief to the situation once again. Simon found himself admiring that quality in Jeremy. He liked how no matter what the situation was he could always make anyone smile or laugh with just a few simple words or actions. Jeremy didn’t even have to try to lighten the mood.

“Jeremy! It’s your turn!” Jolene suddenly sung out excitedly, and Simon’s heart stopped at this. Jeremy just nodded and clumsily crawled towards the bottle. Simon found himself, in spite of his better judgement, hoping that the bottle landed on him. He didn’t think he could handle it if it landed on anyone else. As the brown bottle spun quickly picking it’s next victim, Simon watched more intently than anyone else in the circle. He held his breath as the bottle slowed to a stop. Lots of giggles and whooping befell the circle as the bottle was clearly pointing to one Simon Saunders. Simon suddenly wished he could disappear; despite the fact that only a few seconds ago, he wanted to be the only person that the bottle landed on.

“Get in the closest, Jeremy!” Francis yelled.

“Again?! I already spent so much time coming out of the closet!” Jeremy whined earning him quite a few laughs. Jeremy got up anyway and walked over to Simon. He offered his hand to his scene partner with a soft smile. Simon took it only to get up and dropped it as soon as he was on his feet.

Now here he was standing next to Jeremy with no escape. They were cloaked in darkness thanks to a giggling Jolene slamming the door behind them, but Simon could still clearly make out Jeremy’s bright eyes. An uncomfortable silence fell amongst the two boys, and the air between them was filled with tension and unanswered questions.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy suddenly blurted out. Simon looked at him incredulously. “I know I’m probably your least favorite person right now.” Jeremy’s voice sounded wet, and it pained Simon to know he was causing this.

“Jeremy-“ He started.

“I know you don’t want to be in here with me and that you don’t care about me or whatever. It’s fine we can just sit here in silence if that’s what you want. I don’t care.” Jeremy rambled. He was clearly drunk and way too honest right now.

“Jeremy, I do care about you,” Simon tried to tell him. Jeremy scoffed at his remark. “Okay, I deserved that. I just can’t give you the answers that you want, okay? I want to come to terms with who I am, trust me, I do. I just can’t though. I would never be accepted by my family! I would be thrown out of my house! They would never love me!” Simon ranted quickly starting to hyperventilate.

“Then they don’t love you. If they can’t accept and love everything about you, they don’t deserve you. So don’t tell me that you can’t because you can. You just don’t want to.” Jeremy spat.

“I do want to. I just can’t do the things I want with you.”  The alcohol was actually helping him get what he needed to off of his chest.

“What do you want?” The taller boy looked at him. Simon opened his mouth and then closed it again. He couldn’t say it. He could never say it. Simon looked over at the blonde. Jeremy’s eyes glistened with moisture, but they were still filled with so much hope and love. Simon found himself leaning forward despite every sober part of him warning him against it. He hovered right in front of Jeremy glancing down at his lips before he captured them. Jeremy’s hands quickly moved up to hold Simon’s face. Jeremy pulled back after a few seconds to look at Simon. He leaned forward chasing the blonde’s lips, though, and quickly recaptured them. The kiss started out sweet and slow allowing Simon to just melt into Jeremy, but that quickly changed. Simon knew he needed more of Jeremy. His hands moved up to Jeremy’s waist so he could stabilize himself as he deepened the kiss. Letting it heat up, Simon let out a groan when Jeremy’s tongue found its way into his mouth.

Jeremy’s lips were rough against his, and he welcomed the feeling. It was so different than kissing Annabelle. When he kissed Annabelle, it was awkward and short. Kissing Jeremy just came naturally to Simon. Their lips just seemed to fit perfectly and Jeremy seemed to know exactly what to do to drive Simon crazy. Fate or destiny would be a great way to describe it if only Simon would let himself go there.

A moan suddenly left his lips as Jeremy tugged at his hair to deepen the kiss further than it already was. Simon felt the taller boy smirk against his lips at the sound. He suddenly felt the need to get him back for making him moan like that. He broke away from Jeremy’s lips and moved down to his neck. Simon didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the high he was riding from the feeling of Jeremy kissing him that was making him do this, but he followed through with his split second idea. The other male let out a loud moan as Simon attacked his neck. His hands wound themselves in the shorter boy’s brown hair keeping him in place. The brunette softly bit down on the other boy’s neck eliciting another moan from his mouth. Jeremy forced Simon off of his neck to look at him.

“You’re so hot,” Jeremy whispered. His eyes were full of adoration and lust. Simon bit his bottom lip as he gazed into the taller boy’s sparkling eyes.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Simon winked. Jeremy shook his head chuckling before kissing the brunette again.

Simon knew what he was doing tonight with Jeremy went against everything he believed in, but it felt so good. How could something that felt so right and so good be wrong? He was expected to be happy and feel loved, right? In this moment, Simon knew he had never felt more happy or loved by anyone else.

The scene partners were in the middle of a long, sweet kiss when someone knocked loudly at the door causing them to jump apart.

“Alright, nymphos! Time’s up!” Jolene shouted from the other side of the door. Simon’s face turned bright crimson as he remembered that all of their friends could hear them from the closet. Jeremy nervously looked to Simon, but he just gave the blonde a quick shrug. No going back now, he thought to himself. They walked out of the closet proudly to join their friends.

“This is not how I imagined coming out of the closet…” Simon muttered under his breath. He was clearly referring to his appearance of messed up hair and swollen lips, but the other meaning of the phrase caused Jeremy to laugh out loud at what he said. Simon rolled his eyes before exclaiming, “Lilette! You’re next!”

#siremy #rise #rise nbc #saverise #renewrise #riseagain #simon saunders #jeremy tarvers #harmony curtis #jolene brooks #lilette suarez #robbie thorne #gwen strickland #maashous evers #michael hallowell #the troupe #simon x jeremy #seven minutes in heaven #pretty gay #sasha foley #violet bell #lexi jones #cheryl harper #clark howard #francis russo #auli'i cravalho #ted sutherland #damon j. gillespie #sean grandillo #annabelle bowman

[alia-turin]

Next chapter is here! More cowboy hats and spurs. 

Fic Title: Take It and Run Chapter: 2. Cards and Guns Previous Chapters:  Prologue | Chapter 1 Rating: G (later chapters might be NSFW so I will write individual warnings for each chapter) Characters: Cor, Luche, Noctis, Glado, Ignis, Prompto, Tredd, Nyx, Luna, Ravus, Libertus, Crowe. Tagging: @birdsandivory @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy @lazarustrashpit @jojopitcher (some Noct comingf or you in he next chapter) @themissimmortal @kairakara101 @fromunseeliecourt @ladychocoberry @theyearofdiamonddogs @littlestfangirl

If you want to be tagged or untagged please let me know.

Cor walked in the saloon with Ignis, nobody paying attention to them beside Cid behind the bar who nodded at them. The place was already full, cowboys and locals drinking, playing cards and trying to get under the skirts of the girls.

As they reached the bar Cid didn’t even ask what Cor wants he just poured a glass of whiskey and pushed it in front of him.

“What can I get you, boy?” Cor smiled a bit seeing Ignis been taken by surprise by Cid calling him ‘boy’. Then again everyone was a boy for Cid.

“Agh,” Ignis cleared his that. “Whatever he is having.” He pointed towards Cor.

“It’s your funeral.” Cid poured him a glass and both of them stared at the younger man with curiosity.

Ignis caught their gazes and he knew there was something amiss, but he kept his straight serious expression. To his credit he kept his expression even after he drank whatever Cid poured in the glass and managed to suppress the choke that was in his throat and not spit everything out.

“Is that lamp oil?” Ignis finally asked after taking his glasses off to clean his eyes.

“It’s my homemade moonshine, the best in the west.” Cid said proudly and poured Ignis another glass. “Cures everything from cold to snake bites.”

Cor was just smiling with the corner of his lips while observing the saloon which was the main reason he was here, not to drink Cid’s rat poison. The locals were the locals, sitting together chatting and playing cards. Farmers, ranch hands, railway workers and builders were most of them. Insomnia was growing quickly, but Cor was making an effort to know who everybody was. He was trying to create that habit in Noctis as well, teach him that he needs to know the people around to know what to expect. To his credit the young sheriff was learning, but Cor was worried it wasn’t fast enough. Then of course there was the cowboys waiting for the next train North to load the cattle. Three different groups of cowboys in three days and that was rubbing Cor the wrong way. Too many people he didn’t know, too many people who could potentially set the town on fire and wouldn’t lose anything.

His eyes fell on the group that had arrived two days ago. First ones that were greeted with Nocts new law to relinquish their guns and first ones that were unhappy about it. They were playing cards in one of the corner tables seemingly getting used to the situation in town. Plus whenever the train arrived they were going to be first to load and first to leave. The second group was mostly drinking and hanging out with the saloon girls, Cor assumed that was going well for them. And finally, the guys that had arrived today. Cor studied them from his place wondering what to expect. They seemed pretty normal with the one expectation they had a woman with them. Under the dusty clothe he could tell she was a pretty thing, her brown hair was tied up in order not to be in the way and she seemed more than comfortable in the company she was in. There were two other guys on the table and two empty chairs.

“You play poker?” Cor asked Ignis.

“I’m a decent player.” The young man said, Cid’s drink was already getting to him.

“Let’s go.” ‘Decent player’ in Ignis’ language meant excellent player and that was good enough for Cor.

He walked toward their table, Ignis following him. Cor had no plan what he was going to do exactly, he just wanted to get to know them and asses how much of a danger they were.

“Can we join you?” Cor asked as he reached the table.

“Sure thing, Marshal.” One of the guys answered and pushed an empty chair toward Cor. “My name is Nyx, Nyx Ulric. That’s Libertus and Crowe.” He introduced everyone.

“Since you already know me, that is Ignis, he is the deputy sheriff here.” It was Cor’s turn apparently to deal and he dealt the cards.

“Yeah we know.” The man called Libertus said with a wide grin on his face. “One of your sheriff’s deputies made two of our guys rethink their life choices today.”

Cor didn’t say anything, it wasn’t his business to get in the sheriff’s business and most likely whatever Noct and his deputies did it was deserved.

“Where are the rest of you guys?” Ignis asked as he was looking calmly at his cards.

“One is upstairs with a girl.” Crowe explained. “Two are with the cattle and the third one went to deal with some personal business.”

Her words weren’t ignored by Cor, but he wasn’t going to ask anything further on the topic. Personal business could mean anything from having a lover to robbing a bank.

The game continued with some light-headed jokes and Cor highly recommending Cid’s special which they ordered and regretted probably more than Ignis.

“You are in my chair.” A deep voice came from behind Ignis and Cor had to turn around to check how that would go down. A tall broad-shouldered man with red hair was standing behind Ignis obviously on the verge of kicking the deputy out of it. That was going to be entertaining.

“Tredd, calm down.” Nyx told the man before Ignis could even react. “There is an empty chair there grab it.”

The man stood there just a moment and Cor could swear he was going to do something stupid. Part of his was hoping that would happen, he would feel better if all of them slept in a jail cell till it was time for them to leave.

The man called Tredd didn’t object any further just grabbed chair form the table behind them and sat next to Nyx and the woman.

“Deal me in I guess.” The redhead said and Libertus dealt him in the game as well.

“That was pretty quick, losing your touch?” Crowe teased the newcomer.

“Shut up. She was no fun. Just like you right now.” Tredd looked at his cards and made his bet.

“Don’t blame the horse, blame the rider.” Crowe continued taunting him and Cor was secretly grateful. He wanted to see what Tredd would do in anger.

“Sometimes it’s the horse.” The man said silently not going any further n her taunts and Cor couldn’t decide if he was just giving up the fight against her or was behaving because of him and Ignis.

 On his way back Luhe couldn’t stop thinking about what Titus had told him. It could work. If the information was right it would work but where would he find that one missing person. Actually, he knew where question was who.

“Nyx or Tredd.” He whispered in the night knowing only his horse could hear him.

Nyx was better rider, Tredd was better with guns and explosives. Nyx could keep his mouth shut, Tredd wouldn’t be worried to use brutal force against anyone. Nyx had consciousness, Tredd had none.

He had to make the right choice, because that choice was his future. This one job will sort out all his problems and help him buy his plantation back. He could see the moment when he wouldn’t need to sleep rough anymore and would have his own bed, bed that he owned.

Insomnia was already asleep not counting the saloon and he knew that he can find the man he needed there. He tied his horse to the front and calmly walked inside. It was packed and noisy but he quickly located Nyx and the rest…sitting with the Marshal and that one deputy that looked out of place.

“Fuck.” He said to himself realizing he had four revolvers in the bags of his saddle. That has to happen as elegant as possible.

“Hey, look who is here!” Libertus shouted. “How was the personal business?”

“Pleasant.” Luche forced a smile on his lips, his eyes shifting between the marshal and the deputy sheriff.

“Told you it’s a woman.” Libertus folded his cards. “I’m out you are robbing me blind.” He told the deputy. Luche had to say he was impressed. Both Nyx and Tredd were good card players but the man was robbing them judging by the money he had in front of himself.

“Yeah, I am losing more money than I can afford to lose.” Nyx pushed his cards as well.

Tredd was saying absolutely nothing and Luche could smell trouble. Two things were going to happen, he would throw the cards and walk away pissed or accused the deputy of cheating, both scenarios unpleasant.

“Are you going to join us?” Crowe asked. “Since these two quitters are leaving…”

“No, I’m actually tired, I just needed some help from Tredd with the cattle. It’s about that calf that was giving us trouble earlier.”

Tredd turned toward him looking at him absolutely blankly and Luche was praying the man was not too drunk and will figure it out.

“Oh.” Was the only thing coming from Tredd’s lips and that was a good sign. “Excuse me.”

Luche tipped his hat at the Marshal and the deputy and walked out calmly followed by Tredd. Neither of them said anything realizing that if the Marshal walked out of the saloon he would probably hear them. They jumped on their horses silently and rode toward their camp out of town.

“So….” Tredd started as they were far enough and nobody was following them.

“Have two revolvers for you, but you keep them out of sight or we are both in trouble.” In fact, they were in more trouble than Tredd could imagine if the guns were found.

“I’m not stupid. I just look the part.” He couldn’t see Tredd’s smile in the dark but he was sure the other man was smiling. He knew him far too well.

“How do you feel about making some extra money?” Luche finally asked after some long silence. Tredd was a gamble and Nyx was a gamble as well. He had to choose and he was doing just that.

“I have never said no to money or a pretty woman so why do you ask?” Tredd pulled his horse closer realizing it was probably some sort of secret they were talking about.

“I have a friend. He used to be in the army, a major of some sort. He has information about a stagecoach carrying something of great value. We need a fifth pair of hands.” Luche was trying to explain and mention as little as possible, he wasn’t completely sure how far he can trust Tredd.

“How much is great value?” judging by his voice, he was certainly interested.

“After expenses and some payments we need to make about two thousand per head.” The number Titus had told him was a bit higher, but better to surprise Tredd at the end than to disappoint him.

“That’s a lot of money.” Tredd didn’t say anything for a bit then continued. “What do I need to do?”

#cor leonis #luche lazarus #nyx ulric #tredd furia #au #my writing

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Want and Need

Summary: Pietro x Reader (My first Pietro... so let me know how I did please!)

Reader is a vital part of the Avengers, but just how vital leaves her feeling drained, and unhappy.

Word Count: 2906

Warnings: depression symptoms, crying, angst, fluff???

A/N: A million thank yous to @writingwithadinosaur for Beta reading EVERYTHING I spit out of my computer, and still speaking to me, and being AMAZING! And to @ashleypence, who was actually the one who gave me the inspiration to write this (if it sounds like a convo we had in the car... it is very much based off that)

BTWs I used Slovak for Sokovian (and it’s google translate, so I am VERY sorry if it’s wrong)

Posted: 7/6/17

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all, I’ll be back a little later.” You plastered a fake smile on your face as you backed out of the common room. Nat and Steve looked like they didn’t believe you, but they let you go. Sam on the other hand…

“C’mon Y/N! You say that every time. I need your help or I’ll never win!”

“It’s Smash Bros. Sam, not the end of the world.” Even at video games, Sam couldn’t beat Steve. Which seemed unfair given that Sam should have had an advantage, so you usually took pity on him. But not today.

Sam pouted, but you left, escaping to your room and locking the door.

When the Avengers had gotten back together after their giant fight over the Accords, Tony and Steve had decided that they needed a new player; someone who had no part in the fight, who had no preconceived notions about the team’s decisions. Thor and Dr. Banner were still off earth, so Tony had gone searching for a new Avenger; he’d found you.

Your powers, teleportation and electrical manipulation, made you an asset on missions. But it was your personality that really helped the team. You were a natural counselor, at least that’s what Sam had said. You listened to the team, genuinely cared about each and every member, and helped them to repair their broken relationships. Hell, you’d even gotten Bucky and Tony on speaking terms, although you claimed no credit for it. It was nice to feel helpful, to feel useful.

What wasn’t so great was the exhausted feeling you were dragging around with you like a stubborn puppy learning how to use a leash. You were so tired all the time, but you didn’t want to miss anything important. The team needed you…

Needed. Maybe that was the problem. It was always need. Even today, Sam had said he needed you to play. Not that he wanted you to play, but that he needed you.

You sighed as you fell back on your bed, staring at the ceiling as if it could tell you what to do. You growled, pulled a pillow from behind your head, and pressed it over your face.

You’d been taking a lot of breaks lately. Not from missions or training, but from team outings, parties, and downtime activities; the things you weren’t needed for. You just didn’t have the energy to spend time with your teammates anymore. They were your friends, your family, but they made you so tired. They had gotten so used to you being around to hear them out, and let them vent to you that they’d just never stopped. You didn’t think they meant anything malicious by it, but you’d become more their therapist than their teammate, friend, or sister. And you’d never gotten a say in it at all. Of course you wanted to help, but now, now you felt like you couldn’t go back to just being their friend.

Exhausted, frustrated tears welled up in your eyes, and you struggled to keep the sobs from passing your lips as they fell.

Meanwhile, back in the common room…

Sam had, in fact, lost to Steve, and was now sulking in the corner. Wanda and Pietro had just returned from their trip to the museum. Pietro hadn’t enjoyed the trip nearly as much as Wanda had, but he’d kept a lid on his fidgeting and anxious behaviors so she could have fun. By the time they’d returned, he was pretty high-strung and was looking for his best friend: you.

Tony, and Helen Cho, had worked to bring Pietro back just 6 months ago. With help from Vision and some of Dr. Banner’s notes, they’d succeeded in healing the bullet wounds and restarting his vital organs. Wanda hadn’t known that Tony had Pietro in cryostasis. Tony Stark, who had been blamed for the Maximoff’s deaths, and had taken that blame to heart, had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t let Wanda lose anyone else. That no matter how long it took, he’d bring her brother back to her. That was part of why he’d tried to keep her in the compound during the accords fight, he wanted her to be safe, but he’d gone about that the wrong way entirely. Luckily for everyone, it had worked out, an Pietro came back as himself, not as some weird killer zombie.

You had been at Wanda’s side the whole time. Helping her through her grief, and hope, letting her scream, cry, and share her fear that her brother may not come back as he was. But he had. Wanda had her brother back, and after 6 months. Although they both still had nightmares, they were inseparable again. Clint had gotten very close to Pietro and Wanda as well. He was like the uncle they’d never had, or wanted really. But the three of them had a very tight relationship now.

Pietro looked around the room, the smile on his face that he’d come home with, turned into a frown when he noticed your absence. You’d been the only person, aside from Bucky and Sam, who hadn’t known him before. You were the only one who didn’t seem to be watching him carefully for any signs that he may be changing into something… abnormal. You’d been his first friend. The first person he went to when he had something to share, good or bad. He looked forward to seeing you everyday, and grumped around the tower when he couldn’t. His sister teased him about his behavior; told him he had a crush on you. He didn’t deny it, but he also didn’t tell you.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, sitting on the couch to watch Natasha play against Tony.

“She said she was tired,” Steve explained as Tony beat Natasha and began crowing in victory.

“Yeah, too tired to help me,” Sam groused, “she knows I lose if she doesn’t play.”

“It’s a game, bird-brain,” Bucky admonished.

“Yeah, but it’s the principle, ya dick,” Sam snorted.

“Whatever dude. She’s tired, let her rest. Her life doesn’t revolve around making sure your delicate ego doesn’t get bruised,” Clint shouted from the kitchen where he was grabbing a beer.

Pietro’s eyes narrowed as he looked over his shoulder at the hallway that lead to your room.

“She’s tired a lot lately,” he muttered, looking to his sister and meeting her gaze as she nodded at him, he rose and headed for your door.

...

“Y/N?” someone was knocking on your door. You didn’t move to answer it though. You knew your face was red and puffy, and that there were tear tracks down your cheeks. You couldn’t muster up enough energy to care.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Wanda checked. If you don’t open the door, I’m coming in.” It was Pietro’s voice. You sighed before curling into a tighter ball on your bed, hugging your pillow to your chest.

“It’s not locked,” you replied quietly. The door handle turned and you looked away, knowing he’d notice your state and question you, but you didn’t have the energy to do anything other than hide.

The door closed and you felt your bed dip as Pietro sat down right in front of you.

“What’s wrong, moja láska (my love)?” His voice was quiet and he made no move to touch you, although he usually would. He didn’t know how to approach this sad, and tired looking version of the person he loved; he didn’t know what to do.

As if your body was waiting for him to ask, your face crumpled and fresh tears began to fall; your body shaking slightly from the effort of trying to muffle your sobs.

“Oh, milovať (love),” Pietro’s face fell as he leaned forward and pulled you onto his lap, holding you to his chest and tucking your head under his chin. He still wasn’t sure how to help you, but he couldn’t not hold you when you looked so broken.

“I just… I’m just so tired, Piet. I’m tired. All the time. Everything makes me tired. I can’t even hang out with the team anymore without…” you sniffled. You didn’t want to cry anymore, your head was aching.

You told Pietro how you felt like everyone needed you, how you couldn’t miss a mission or training; they were too important. But even when it came to menial things, people said they needed you. You couldn’t take a break. You were running on fumes, and it was killing you.

“I guess I just want to be wanted. Like I know I’m needed; I just wish sometimes people would just want me around. Not need anything from me, just want my presence… its stupid, I know-”

“Y/N,” Pietro cut in. He hadn’t spoken a word since you started talking, but now he stopped you, “it's not stupid to talk about what you need and want.”

“I know, I know,” you shook your head, wiping away the remains of the tears from your face with a sleeve, “it’s just not important.” You cleared your throat, pulled away from Pietro slightly, took a deep breath and looked up at his face.

His brow was furrowed, he could almost feel you pulling back into yourself like it was a physical action. Now he saw the constant happiness you’d been wearing for what it was: a mask.

“You don’t understand,” he thought. “You don’t understand how your words cut me. You feel necessary but unwanted. Like training? Necessary to keep your skills and conditioning up, but given the choice, you’d rather be doing almost anything else.” He couldn’t understand how you felt this way, and  he wanted so badly to fix it for you. But here you were, exhausted, crying, and telling him that your feelings were “stupid”. “Nope, that’s not going to fly.”

“Y/N, why don’t you tell the others? They’re your friends, they wouldn’t want you to feel like this…”

“That’s why I don’t,” you sighed, disentangling yourself from Pietro and climbing from his lap. “I don’t want to burden them. They have so many more important things to worry about; they don’t need my whining added on top.” You walked to your bathroom and splashed water on your face, bracing your hands on either side of the sink and leaning there for a minute, eyes closed.

...

Pietro couldn’t believe how easily you discounted your feelings and needs. When you’d pulled away from him moments ago, it had physically hurt him to see you so closed off to him. You’d never talked like this to anyone. And as much as he felt special for being the one you opened up to, it killed him to see it. He knew he needed to do something, but what? Pietro chewed his bottom lip while you stayed at your sink.

Then you took another deep breath, opened your eyes, smiled a tiny, brittle smile and said, “maybe I just need some sleep.”

“Of course, Y/N. You sleep, and I’ll tell the others you’re taking an early night.” He stood up from your bed as you made your way back to it.

“Thank you, Pietro,” you sighed as he hugged you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head; a plan forming in his mind.

The next day…

You woke up to the sound of someone knocking on your door. Odd… Usually the alarm woke you long before your teammates would need you. When you looked at the clock, it was several hours after the alarm should have gone off. Your eyes shot wide open and your heart raced as the knock came again.

“Y/N?” Wanda’s voice. You jumped out of bed and shot to the door, opening it wide, an apology prepared on your lips, but that apology died quickly.

Wanda was standing outside your room in PJs with two cups of coffee and a bag of pastries. A smile on her face as she lifted her offerings.

“Breakfast in bed?” she laughed a little before motioning you back so she could enter your room. She walked over to your bed, grabbed the TV remote, and turned on Netflix before you moved.

Cautiously, you sat next to her, “What’s all this for?”

“Steve said we could all have the day off. So F.R.I.D.A.Y. turned off everyone’s alarms. And I wanted to hang out with you, so I brought bribes.” She smiled and handed you your favorite pastry.

Still skeptical, you accepted the pastry. The two of you watched “Friends” for a few hours before Natasha came in and inserted herself on your other side. The three of you planned a shopping day, and started getting dressed as soon as you finished your coffee. Both women “helped” you get dressed and do your makeup, at which point Nat became dismayed at your lack of appropriate products and declared that the makeup counter was your first stop. You rolled your eyes at their antics, but agreed to go.

The trip was really fun. You’d walked around malls, trying on the most ridiculous looking clothes, and went to Sephora and let the makeup artists play with your face. Nat and Wanda had insisted that you needed everything the artists had used, you’d balked at the price that accompanied the pile of makeup, but Nat winked at you and pulled out one of Tony’s credit cards, paying for the pile before you could stop her.

Neither of the girls complained or gossiped. You all just shared funny memories and stories, and laughed. When you got back home, you were tired, but a good tired; not emotional or mental, just physical.

Tony declared movie night, and after everyone had changed into comfy clothes, he popped in “Clue”, one of your favorite movies. You should have been suspicious, but you were too busy enjoying your favorite snack and teasing Sam, who was wearing Iron Man sleep pants. You’d cuddled into a corner of the sofa with Pietro on your side. Though you’d started the movie leaning against the armrest, halfway through you’d migrated over so you were curled into Pietro’s side, with his arm around your shoulder.

When you’d fallen asleep, Pietro looked to his sister, who met his gaze, smiled and nodded; he had helped. 

Pietro had explained, at least a little of your predicament to the rest of the team. He’d told them you felt burnt out and a little unwanted. Everyone had been shocked, they hadn’t realized they’d been taking such advantage of you; you’d never expressed these feelings to them, just said that you were tired.

They’d all made a conscious effort to keep positive vibes around you, not to expect you to listen to their issues, and to just enjoy their time with you while making sure you enjoyed yourself too.

Bucky had gone out early and gotten pastries from the bakery you liked. Steve had cancelled training. Wanda had made you coffee and taken it to you, Sam had found the movie you’d told him about a few weeks ago. Natasha remembered how you’d coveted a lipstick she had, and suggested a shopping trip, and Tony volunteered his credit card for you. You didn’t know it, but all of your friends had done things just for you today. They may not have been big things, but they were done just to make you happy. Pietro smiled as he stood, picked you up, and carried you to your room.

You woke as he placed you on your bed and grabbed his arm before he could leave.

“Thank you, Piet,” you mumbled, sleepy eyes meeting his.

“For what, miláčik (darling)?”

“Everything,” you smiled, pulling his arm so he’d come closer. He complied, climbing onto the bed and laying on his side, facing you.

“I did nothing that needs thanking,” he said quietly, brushing stray hairs out of your face gently.

You caught the hand he’d used to move your hair and held it. Looking him in the eye, you said, “You may not think so, but I do. It means a lot to me that you came looking for me yesterday, that you listened to me.”

“Ľúbim ťa, Y/N. I will always come looking for you. I will always listen to you. (I love you)” His hand moved out of your hold to stroke your hair.

“Wanda’s been teaching me Sokovian you know,” you said after a short pause, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Mission accomplished,” Pietro had thought he had avoided confrontation by speaking in his native tongue.

“Tiež ťa milujem, Pietro. (I love you too)” You nuzzled into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. After less than a second, he reciprocated. Warmth spreading through his chest, not only were you happy, not only had you learned Sokovian just to surprise him, but on top of everything, you loved him back.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before closing his eyes, all tension leaving his body.

“Si moje slnko, Y/N. Milujem ťa toľko, (you are my sunshine Y/N, I love you so much)” he mumbled into your hair.

“You’re a sap,” you giggled, “ale aj ja ťa milujem (but I love you too).”

Pietro chuckled, and tightened his arms around you. And that’s how the two of you fell asleep that night, and would for many nights after.

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[genogenocrazycatman]

Stillwater - Chapter 10

Stillwater [Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.Net, Mibba]

Characters: Original Female Character, Monkey D. Luffy, Rorona Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji, Nami, Usopp, Tony Tony Chopper, Nefeltari Vivi

***

"We build as only children know to build

We made a way where there's a will

No slowing down or standing still

Innocent and reckless

"How did we get so old and never notice

How did we gain the world and lose the moment

Rise and fall, the tide surrounds us

And drowns us all"

-Hands Like Houses

***

“Get back here!” I yelled at Luffy, running out onto the deck after him, his coat in my hand. “I don’t care if you don’t like it! Put your damn coat on, and real shoes!” I barked. I knew it was ridiculous. One, to be yelling at my captain, and two, because he wasn’t going to listen. I couldn’t help it. It was a habit, one deeply ingrained into my personality by years of chasing children around with nearly every article of clothing imaginable.

We were definitely near a winter island. The slight chill from previous night had turned into a deep freeze by morning. Snow was steadily falling from the sky, the thick heavy stuff perfect for packing.

Vivi and I had taken turns keeps watch over Nami, checking her temperature, placing cool compresses on her head. Seeing as I could lift her with ease, I had carried out navigator out on the deck a few times, using the natural cold to help cool her down. Vivi was down in our room now, so I had headed up to check on everyone else. Zorro had taken Sanji’s place up in the crow’s nest, while Sanji had gone to rest up for a bit. I had taken care of breakfast and lunch. Usopp and Luffy kept each other entertained. While they were inside, I had sat there and sewed one of the spare blankets into a makeshift cloak for myself. It was nice to sew something other than flesh for a change. Luffy ignored me heading straight to the bow of the ship.

I rolled my eyes and followed him, slinging my makeshift cloak over my shoulders.

“Hey,” Zoro called from the crow’s nest.

I looked up and realized that he too was without his jacket. I rolled my eyes. ‘Bunch of idiots,’ I thought. ‘At least he has a coat.’ “It’s all fun and games until people start losing toes,” I muttered.

“Hey, Zoro, do you see any doctors yet?” Luffy asked.

“Luffy, you can’t be serious.”

“Guys? You think… people… can stand on top of the ocean?”

I furrowed my brows. I could think of a few, and if was any of them, we were in for some shit. In one of the scenarios I had conjured up in my head, it was a devil fruit user, which likely meant a fight, and a fight against someone, who could avoid water, put us at a disadvantage. Even worse was the scenario in which they hadn’t eaten a devil fruit, like my father and that certainly meant a fight.  The last scenario was that Zoro was losing it. He had been up there for a while and it was cold. It was likely that it was getting to him, especially since he didn’t have a damn coat.

“What? Do I think it’s possible?” Luffy asked.

“What kind of question is that? It’s impossible of course.”

“It’s possible,” I corrected Usopp. “But not likely. What do you see?”  

“That,” Zoro pointed ahead of us.

We followed his finger out over the ocean, where sure enough there was a man standing. He was wrapped up in pastel colored furs, a bow and quiver of arrows on his back.

“Hello. Sure is chilly today,” he greeted.

The others all pulled faces, confused and somewhat shocked. You’d think that would’ve worn off some after the giants, but apparently not.

“Yeah. It is,” I responded, easily. He seemed nice enough. I was on my guard still, but I’d rather exchange pleasantries and move on that pick a fight.

“Definitely,” Usopp agreed. “In fact, I would say it’s freezing.”

“Really?” the guy on the water said.

His response seemed to startle Luffy and Usopp and Zoro. This guy was there, standing on the water, holding a conversation with us.

I didn’t think he was like me. I couldn’t sense anything from him. At the same time, I still hadn’t started training that sense again. Kitetsu III could almost knock me on my ass, I was sure that anything stronger than that most definitely would.

I didn’t have time to dwell on that, needing to quickly take hold of the railing in to keep from tumbling down the deck, as the Merry was thrown back from the waves produced by a large medal dome bursting out of the ocean.

“What is that thing? A watermelon?” Luffy asked.

“The metal walls of the dome retracted, revealing a deck and sails. I had never ever seen a ship like this one before.

“Oh crap! It’s a pirate ship!” Usopp yelled.

“It’s huge!”

I narrowed my eyes at it. The deck was lined with men.

“Ha ha ha ha ha! Don’t tell me that our underwater raid-ship the Tin Tyrant surprised you?!”

It was practically instantaneous. We were all surrounded on all side by men in the same get up as those on the other ship, each of them with guns pointed at us.

I knew that friendly chit chat wasn’t going to get us through this without a fight deep inside, but I couldn’t help, but feel a bit disappointed.

Sanji came bursting outside, stopping, when he realized he was surrounded, and pulling out a cigarette and his matches.  “So what’s going on?” he asked.

“Well, we’re under attack, and it’s still snowing,” Luffy answered.

“Well yeah. The guns pointed in my face kind of gave that away. What next?”

“You guys consider yourself a band of pirates? How amusing. I only count four of you,” said a man draped in a hippopotamus themed fur, eating meat off is his sword.

‘Disgusting,’ I thought. He was standing there, chewing with his mouth open like some kind of animal or Luffy. He finished his meat and then in a move that surprised all of us, chomped down on his sword.

“Sort of strange that your group would have so few members,” he commented.

“Kay that’s just weird. What kind of guy likes to eat knives?” Luffy asked.

“My gums are bleeding just watching!”

“Alright. I’ll keep this simple. See my men and I here wish to travel to Drum Kingdom. You wouldn’t happen to have an eternal pose or a log pose would ya?”

“Nope. Can’t help. Sorry, but I’ve never heard of this Drum Kingdom.”

“Now that we have that all settled, can you guys just leave already? We’re in a hurry. We don’t have time to deal with all this.”

“You’ll never enjoy life if you’re always in a rush, but if you have neither pose, what can be done? I guess I’ll have to settle for your treasure and this ship. But first thing’s first. I’m feeling a bit hungry.”

The man bit down on part of the Merry, biting the wood, tearing a section off and chewing it.

“He’s a ship eating monster!” Usopp yelled.

“Hey! Our ship isn’t your lunch!” Luffy yelled.

“He’s a devil fruit eater,” I corrected. ‘Scenario number one.’

“Be quiet. Wapol doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s eating,” one of the guys with guns said.

Luffy smack two of them over the head. “Shut up!”

“We’re under attack. Shoot him!” they commanded, firing at Luffy.

I smirked. Might as well make the best of the situation. This was a good chance to blow off some steam, release some of the tension that Nami’s illness had created. “You should be happy we’re in a rush. We’re going to make this quick.”

One of the men fired at me. I dodged the bullet, charging at him, knocking the weapon out of his hand and swinging him by his arm into another of the men, tossing them both overboard. The goons were entirely too easy to take care of. They couldn’t shoot worth a damn, their hand to hand was terrible, and their swordsman ship was amateur at best. I didn’t even have to throw a hit. Their attacks were all sloppy that all I had to do was dodge and redirect and they took out each other.

Sanji and Zoro were making quick work of them as well, Sanji seemed to be having a little bit of fun. Zoro was just bored.

Wapol seemed too focused on eating the Merry to notice his men’s distress, or the livid Luffy raging towards him.

“Hey, Wapol, we need help,” one of them called.

“YOU STILL EATING?! HEY YOU!”

Wapol finally turned around.

“You fool! You’re no match for Wapol!” one of his men yelled at Luffy.

“Now you’re going to be eaten by the power of the munch munch fruit.”

Shut up,” I barked, spinning around and kicking one of them. I grabbed another, twisting his wrist, and wedged my foot under his chin, before falling back on the deck, the impact causing his neck to snap.

Wapol bit down on Luffy, but it was too late. He didn’t stand a chance. Luffy had already thrown his arms back, stretching them far out over the ocean.

Zoro pulled me to my feet, while Sanji greeted, Vivi, who had run out onto the deck, probably alarmed by the sound of a fight.

“I normally prefer someone less chewy,” Wapol griped.

“I SAID LEAVE!” Luffy yelled, muffled by Wapol’s mouth.

Luffy hit him with a gum gum bazooka, sending the jackass flying.

I grinned, watching as the enemy crew freaked out, realizing not only that we were way more powerful than they thought, but that their beloved Wapol was probably going to drown unless he got lucky and landed on another ship or an island.

They rushed back to their own ship, screaming at us about blood and vengeance and blah blah blah.

“Wow. Crazy. Those guys were really upset. What were they calling that old garbage can? Wapol?” Usopp asked.

“Who cares about what his name was. Forget about it. The guy was obviously a moron. Best to just forget about him.”

“I know him,” Vivi said quietly. “But from where?”

I shook my head. “Look at this mess, and I just cleaned the deck in Little Garden too.”

Everything returned to business as usual after that. I took over Nami watch until I had to take a nap, so that I could stay awake for my watch that night. When I woke up, Luffy and Zoro were apparently on Nami watch, Luffy sitting in the chair, while Zoro sat on the floor, leaning back against the bed.

I smiled at the sight. Zoro was nodding off, and Luffy was trying everything he could think of to wake Nami up.

“No change?” I asked.

“No,” Luffy said, sadly.

I got up and walked over checking her temperature and replacing the compress on her head. “Still feverish,” I said, frowning. “She needs food and water, but I can’t get that into her right now, and there’s no guarantee that she’ll be able to keep it down.”

“I was thinking about that too,” Vivi said, entering the room. “Sanji made some broth in case she wakes up. He sent me down to tell you guys that dinner’s ready.”

I nodded, stretching. “I’ll be up in a minute,” I said.

I went to the bathroom and cleaned up a bit, before grabbing my makeshift cloak and going upstairs. I tossed it on the bench and took my seat at the table. Dinner was its usual affair, though much quieter without Nami yelling at Luffy. None of us were fit to navigate through the night, so we were going to anchor and sail in the morning.

I did the dishes and checked on Nami one last time, before grabbing my cloak and blanket and starting for the deck. I made a stop at the boys’ room, where Zoro was laying in his hammock, having a post dinner snooze.

“Zoro?”

“Yeah?” he responded, cracking an eye open to look at me.

“Mind if I borrow, Kitetsu for a while?”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why do you want Kitetsu?”

“Cause, the curse on that blade nearly knocked me on my ass. I think we need a moment to bond, work out some sort of agreement, so that doesn’t happen.”

“I’ve been wondering why it affects you so much more than me,” he said, lifting the sword from, where it was resting against the wall. He ran his hand along the length of its scabbard, before, unsheathing the blade.

“I’m curious how you noticed it,” I returned. “Kitetsu has a pretty heavy curse on it, but most people can’t feel it. They feel afraid, but that’s only because of the stories that come with it. You have to have strong spiritual capabilities, but you don’t seem like the type hone those.”

“Meditation.” He said nothing else, but he didn’t have to. Meditation was a great way to focus, to calm yourself and build you mental fortitude. It was necessary for a swordsman, especially one of Zoro’s caliber.

I nodded. “You used meditation to build up your mental dexterity and found some semblance of spirituality. I found spirituality and then strengthened myself mentally. That is why the curse affects me so much more than you. You think about it and then feel it. I feel it and then think about it.”

Zoro sheathed Kitetsu, and tossed the scabbard towards me. I caught it easily, feeling put off by the object in my hand.

“I’ll bring it back safe and sound.”

“I’m more concerned about you than Kitetsu,” Zoro teased.

“Look at you, finally getting a rib in. It only took you how long now?”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbled. “Just go take your watch already.”

I left the boys room and headed back up to the helm and out onto the deck.

“Wait,” Sanji stopped me, before I went outside. I turned to look at him. I hadn’t seen much of Sanji outside of the fight and dinner, having spent most of my time staying with Nami. He had seemed quieter than usual, which I attributed to his concern for Nami at first, but then I realized that he wasn’t distracted like I had initially thought. He was focused… on me. He was studying me, discretely looking for something.

Despite the tightness in my chest, I remained composed. This time I was better prepared. I wasn’t immediately put on the spot like I had been the other times. I didn’t need to come up with a quick lie. I had promised I wouldn’t.

“Yes?”

“Here.” He held his jacket open for me to slide into. Even with the suspicions, I was sure were swirling in his mind right now, he was still a perfect gentleman.

“And what are-“

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m gonna stay inside anyways.”

I nodded.

“I’ll bring you a snack and a beverage later during your watch. Any requests, my dearest Mira?”

“Actually, if you could bring me up a cup of tea later, that would be much appreciated,” I said, sweetly. I lowered my voice as to not attract the attention on Usopp and Luffy, who were looking at some gizmo that the former had made. “We’ll talk later. Remember to grab someone else’s coat.”

“Of course,” he said, as I zipped up the jacket.

I stepped on to the deck and deeply inhaled the chilly air. I liked the cold. There was something about it that felt fresh, sort of like the air after a rainy day, but without the petrichor. It helped me relax. I looked at the dark sea, the moon was obscured by the clouds. I shook my head and went up to the crow’s nest. I sat down and rested my head back against the wood, staring up at the sky. “Fuck.”

Rather than worry about Sanji, I decided to focus my attention on something else. I glanced at the sword and decided that I might as well get as much use out of Kitetsu, while I still could. I didn’t unsheathe the blade. I wasn’t out to feed its desperate need for blood.

I still kept my eyes peeled for any threats, but I also focused on the aura that Kitetsu gave off. I resisted the urge to pull back to close myself off so that I could avoid the horrible feelings that blade was exuding. I had to get past that. I couldn’t let it overwhelm me. It was going to take some time. I had to open my mind little by little increasing the exposure slowly, so that the sword didn’t overwhelm me. As I got used to it, it would be easier and easier to do.

By the time Sanji came up, I had decided I was done with Kitetsu for the day. I was simply gazing out over the ocean, self-evaluating my progress for the day.

Sanji entered the crow’s nest, eyes immediately going to the blade perched beside me.

“That thing’s evil,” I said, nodding towards it.

Sanji scoffed. “Look, who wields it.”

My lips pulled up into a small smile.

Maybe I’d get lucky, and this would go well. I wasn’t counting on it, but considering how well everything had gone with Luffy, I allowed myself to be a little optimistic.

“Black tea, and traditional tea cakes,” he said, sitting next to me and pulling out a thermos and a small container. He poured the tea into cup/lid of the thermos, and held the box for me to take a tea cake.

I dunked the tea cake into the tea and popped it into my mouth. I let out a content hum. Sanji was extraordinary.

“Amazing,” I said.

“Why thank you, Mira.”

Sanji lit a cigarette and took a long drag, staring up at the sky. He didn’t say anything. Neither did I. I was gonna let him break the silence.

“I over heard your conversation with Luffy,” he admitted after about five minutes.

I nodded. “I assumed you figured out something.”

“Well at first, I noticed the chimney, so I waited a few minutes and then came down. Figured I’d warm up and keep, whoever company for a bit.”

“What was the first thing you heard?”

“Luffy telling you that you’re a good person.”

So almost the whole damn thing. I sighed. “So… What’s the verdict? Crazy? Evil? Unnatural? All of the above? None of the above?”

“I have some questions.”

“Okay. I might have answers.”

“You were being 100% serious?”

“One-hundred percent.”

“Your father is really the sea devil?”

“Yep.”

“How is that even possible?”

“My father isn’t some massive horned fish beast or anything like you’re probably imagining. He looks the same as any human. As much as I hate to give him any type of compliment, he’s a handsome man, and according to Cal, he’s a charmer.”

“Cal?”

“She’s one of the people that raised me.”

“Why did you join the crew?”  The tone of his voice gave away the fact that this was the question really on his mind.

“Because my island came under siege years ago, and I thought it was hopeless, but I was lucky. We had a visitor on the island then. He saved us all. Luffy reminds me of him. He’s got something special.”

Sanji nodded, seeming to accept that.

“Any more questions?”

“Nope.”

“Not gonna tear into me for lying and all that?”

“Mira, my dearest, I would never treat a lady with such hostility. It’s unbecoming of a gentleman. I won’t lie and say that I understand what’s going on, but it doesn’t really matter. We all have our secrets, and our reasons for keeping them.”

There was something in his voice and his eyes. He was miles away from the crow’s nest.

“Plus, Luffy’s already decided your staying, it’s not like anyone can changed his mind.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“Not that I would want to, my angel! Your gorgeous face and sparkling personality are some of the highlights of my day!”

Heart eyes.

I laughed, his declaration, causing a huge weight to lift.

“Thank you, Sanji,” I said, carefully hugging to chef as to not spill the tea I was still drinking.

He let out a weird high-pitched noise somewhere between a yell and a whine. “You’re welcome, my beautiful princess!”

I let Sanji go. “Sanji?”

“Yes?”

“What’s the best combination of bread and wine to serve with lobster.”

Sanji came back down almost immediately. “Well it depends on how the lobster is cooked. If I…”

***

Notes: Hey hey hey, so I'm dropping you a little something something the weekend before what is basically my finals week, cause fuck my responsibilities. I'm not real happy with how this turned out, but it is what it is. I'm fucking with the timing here a bit, extending the amount of time between the actual Kestia bite and when they get to Drum Island. I'm just adding a few more days, so that we can get some of these moments in. Also don't worry. Not everyone is just going to be okay with Mira's secret. There will be some conflict.Only semi related. I wanted to get the first chapter of my Shanks fic up, so that I could link you guys to it, but it's ending up longer than I had anticipated and it's one of those, that I'm constantly rewriting as I add more and more stuff, so it's not even like I can post the first few chapters and then just update as I go.

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***

Master List | Mobile Version

#teroin writes #stillwater #one piece #fanfiction

[beaft]

How do you come up with your worlds for your stories? Do you start with a character or a world? How do you figure out the amazing little quirks and details that make it so attractive, without being repetitive or similar to another world? Do you go into the core mechanics of magic when it's present in your world? And how do you brainstorm your world/ideas? How do you know what's a good idea or bad and not worth pursuing?

Oh, man, thank you so much for giving me an excuse toramble about this (although my response is gonna be pretty long, so you mightregret asking). I have a lot of thoughts about worldbuilding, and very few ofthem are coherent, but here’s my best attempt!

(warning: lots of Wordsunder the cut)

1) I don’t really knowhow to answer this one, because…I honestly don’t know? Sometimes it just sortof happens – an idea comes into myhead, and I just put it down and run with it. The “Dearly Departed” ‘versehappened when I got lost in the woods, and found myself wondering what I’d doif I came out again to discover that everyone had disappeared. Pretty basic,but from there it evolved into a weird quasi-horror story with its own set ofrules, to the point where the original concept was fairly peripheral. Other times,it’s just a question of looking at something and asking yourself, “How doesthis work? What would happen if I changed this specific aspect, or addedsomething new on?” Sometimes it feels a bit like engineering – taking thingsapart and putting them back together in new ways, and seeing what happens as aresult.

2) I have kind of a weirdway of working when it comes to characters; sometimes a very loud anddistinctive voice will turn up in my head, and when that happens I spend a bitof time living with them and listening to what they’ve got to say. Then I put themin a sort of mental bank where they can be taken out and inserted into a storythat seems to fit them (possibly adapting some elements of their personality inthe process). Other times, the world itself will suggest what kind ofcharacters might fit into it. In Midnight Calling, a central idea is thatdreams have substance, and can be used as a weapon – so from there it justseemed narratively fitting for the main character to be narcoleptic. I do needto plan out my characters beforehand, though, because if I just try and makethem up as I go they all end up sounding like me (which is to say, confusedsnarky everymen who just want to go home and have a cup of tea and a nicesit-down). As much as we all love Bilbo Baggins, no one wants a story entirelypopulated by him.  

3) The fact is, there aren’treally many “original” ideas left. Making something interesting doesn’t generallycome about by thinking of a concept that nobody has ever thought of before, butby combining old ideas in new ways. Occasionally, it’s fun to just mashtogether two completely random plots or genres, and see what happens. Forexample, Six of Crows is essentially justGame of Thrones meets Oceans Eleven, whilst TheDresden Files is what happens when you take a Raymond Chandler story andadd wizards. The weirder and the more seemingly disparate the ideas are, thebetter. (Or so I’ve found, anyway.)

4) While I’m objectivelyterrible at anything vaguely science-related, I do try to go into themechanics, because at the end of the day I like to have explanations for things.It’s…partly why the way Marvel deals with the whole “magic” thing kind ofannoys me? To give one example: we’re shown that Loki can shapeshift, and whenhe does his voice changes to match the voice of the person he’s imitating (whichindicates that it’s a full-body change, not just a superficial illusion). However,when he alters other people – such as transforming Thor into Sif – their voicesstay the same, implying that this is either a different kind of transformationaltogether or that the voice change and the appearance change are two separate spells.It’s little stuff like that which really gets to me, because it takesme out of that world and makes me question what the actual rules are, orwhether there are even rules at all. simply put, it feels lazy. So while it isimportant to walk that line between “over-explaining” and “under-explaining”, youdo need to have some kind of internal consistency in place - unless you’re doing full-on surrealism, in which case you’re probably not going to be doing much worldbuilding anyway. 

4) My brainstormingusually takes the form of random scribbled notes with a lot of question marksand crossings-out, and probably makes absolutely no sense to anyone who isn’tme. I usually start with a simple concept, and once I have that down there are afew core things that have to be dealt with straight off the bat, such as: whatdifferent cultures exist in this world? How do they interact? Is there anydiscrimination, and if so where does it come from? (For example, having homophobiajust for the sake of “realism” is pretty sloppy, and just makes it seem asthough the author couldn’t be bothered to conceptualise a world in which gaypeople aren’t treated like shit.) What are the different social classes? What’sthe climate and geography? What important historical events happened that impactedthe world? Dragon Age does this really well, imo – while plenty of people havecomplained about the absurd amount of codexes and random lengthy chunks of socio-politicalinformation, there’s no denying that it does a lot to make the setting feel likea real place with a rich history, not something that conveniently sprang intoexistence right before the narrative begins. The way to stop this from becomingtedious and expositional is to allow it to support the story, rather thanbeing the story. Your audience doesn’t need to know everything that youknow. So long as you slip in details here and there, they can generally be countedon to fill in the blanks themselves.

5) The only way I cantell if an idea is good or not is to write it. Generally, if I find it excitingand I want to explore it further, it’s a keeper. If I’m twenty pages in and it’salready feeling like a slog, I don’t bother. While forcing yourself to grindthrough the tough bits is (unfortunately) a key part of the writing process, ifit doesn’t interest you in at least some capacity, then it probably won’tinterest anybody else either.

Thank you again, andapologies for the essay!

#replies #be shh now

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Who Gives a F**k About Charlie Keeper

by Wardog

Tuesday, 09 June 2009

Wardog painfully reviews the self-published Who Is Charlie Keeper.~

I’ve had a busy few weeks. I’ve alphabetised all my socks, de-weeded the back garden and taken a vacation in Vienna but it’s finally got to the point of no return: I think I’m going to have to bring myself to review Who Is Charlie Keeper. I really don’t want Ferretbrain to become the place self-published books come to die, but thus far every self-published book I've read has only renewed my faith in the publishing industry. WICK, as you may have gathered, is a self-published young adult fantasy novel, and it’s, uhh, well...

Come back Jim. All is forgiven.

WICK is borderline unreadable and almost uncertainly unreviewable. Basically, imagine someone came up to you and said “Hey there, I’ve got you a car, come check it out.” And then it turned out the car had no wheels. Yes, maybe, the colour is rather nice, and its fitted with a CD player and sunroof, and the engine might be basically functional but ultimately what you’ve still got there is a car with no wheels.

So, Charlie Keeper is a

mysterious

sassy 12 year old girl who lives in a mysterious house with her amnesiac grandmother because her parents have mysteriously disappeared. Between having her inheritance stolen by the evil lawyer Mr Crow and buying a puppy with her best friend, she is chased into the alternative world of Bellania by the malignant Lord Bane. In which it becomes quickly apparent that Bad Shit Is Going Down and the fate of the world rests upon Charlie Keeper’s reluctant, 12 year old shoulders. There are good guys, bad guys, dragons, adventures,

Quidditch

K’changa, etc etc.

Putting aside for the moment, the fact that WICK is a car without wheels (and I will contextualise this metaphor in a moment), let me try to come up with something positive to say about it. Well, the original artwork that accompanies it is genuinely fabulous. In fact, if the book was even half as good as the art, we’d be laughing. Also Marcus Alexander has a remarkably good ear for dialogue, somehow navigating the spiked pit of accent and dialect without looking like a fool or reducing his characters to offensive stereotype. He’s a sample from Jensen the (Jamaican?) Treman: “Ah’s a Treman. Sweetheart, Ah’ can see yer education is sorely lacking. Who’s yer teacher? Whoever he is, he ain’t doing a proper job. Tell me, little Hippotomai, an’ don’t stomp yer feetsies at me, do ya know wot a Stoman is, or a Human? Eh?” You’d think it would get grating but, somehow, it never does. Overall, WICK romps along at a reasonable pace, and there’s lot of incident, danger and adventure. It’s certainly a colourful book, and it seems to be revelling in its own over-the-top exuberance. You know you’re dealing with a Proper villain when he massacres his own minions and gets all caps-locky about setbacks.

Unfortunately, all this counts for absolutely nothing because there are too many basic problems with the book. Firstly the style itself. I don’t know to what extent we’re dealing with a major slew of typos or if Marcus Alexander genuinely hates commas and wants them to suffer and die at his hands, but the grammar and the syntax through WICK are irregular at best and downright wrong at worst. I’ve skimmed about the internet looking for other responses to it and most of them are positive: “The author's odd use of justification adds extra weight and punctuation on actions, emotive points and speech patterns bringing not just the story but also the characters very much to life. Indeed the book is quite unusual as a whole entity but I would be the first to point out that it connects with today's ambience, fashion and prosetic style.” Hmmmm. Possibly I’m just hideously hidebound but the style is simply neither controlled nor consistent enough to support this interpretation. Here’s a sample:

Powerful muscles bunched and tensed. With long smooth bounds the creature took off. As it ran past the eerily silent columns it realized, with a sinking feeling that it would never reach this mysterious family member in time, the distance was too great. It sensed days of travels lay between the two and it could sense that whatever danger threatened it’s [sic] sibling, was already perilously close.

Or another:

Charlie answering his call, hurried to the lawyer’s study, she knew better than to keep him waiting. Walking straight up to the large leather bound desk she took up a pen and without needing to be asked signed the papers offered by Mr. Crow. She knew she should at least ask what she was signing but she remembered the first time she had plucked up courage to query him; Crow had fallen into such rage, striking her and screaming, that now she dared not question.

And the punctuation lightly and seemingly randomly scattered around the dialogue is enough to bring tears to my eyes:

“Fool! Grab her!” roared the giant, Crow made a lunge for her but tripped over his braces, “Idiot! Dogs come to me, come, your Master commands it.”

It’s more than commas where they shouldn’t be and conspicuous by their absence where they should. Although Alexander occasionally gets off a vivid description or a well-turned phrase, it seems more by luck than judgement a lot of the time and his writing often bogs down in repetition, cliché and an over-reliance on adjectives. Seriously, no noun connected to Mr Crow is allowed out of doors unprefaced by a “skinny”. So Mr Crow is thin, right? I get it. I get it. Please have mercy on me.

I’m no editor but there are equally fundamental issues with the structure of the book itself. The pacing is wobbly to say the least with the narrative either practically thrown into reverse while Charlie eats some spiced bread or we are forced to witness yet another interminable game of K’changa (I hate you JK Rowling, I hate you so much. I yearn for those halcyon days in which children’s books were allowed to exist that did not contain detailed descriptions of spurious sporting activities) and then speeding so rapidly through a succession of incidents that it’s enough to make you get motion sickness. The POV, equally, veers around all over the place and, dialogue aside, the characterisation – especially of Charlie – wavers too. She seems to be scared when the narrative prefers that she’s scared, and feisty when it’s time for her to be feisty. Furthermore, her famed “big mouth” barely lives up to its reputation for causing trouble. Maybe it’s just because she doesn’t have an accent but she seems like a complete void for most of the narrative. We’re told about her qualities (and, of course, her undeniable specialness) but we rarely seem them in action in a way that could make us care about her, or even be remotely interested in her. Alexander’s descriptions of scenery and action are at least nudging towards competence, but the emotional side of it all is completely flat:

Charlie, cheeks blushing uncontrollably, stared into the eyes of the woman who was supposed to be her guardian. Never had she felt such a hate so complete, never had such an anger awoken within her heart. Charlie, that very instant felt something deep within her move and change, something within her soul sickened and died and in its place something darker was born. This was a moment that would be etched eternally into her mind.

She gets over it. She kind of like de Sade’s Justine that way – ill-defined, unchanging and unaffected.

I can’t even in good conscience say that WICK has promise: until it gets some wheels, it ain’t going nowhere. I found it a real struggle to read, partially because I was mourning every tortured comma but also because whatever is good about it is completely eclipsed by its major and fundamental problems.Themes:

Books

,

Sci-fi / Fantasy

,

Young Adult / Children

,

Self-Published

~

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~Comments (

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Rami

at 12:51 on 2009-06-09Ouch. From those excerpts, it seems like a pretty painful read -- but then, I like my grammar to be in more or less the right place. There's a place for bending the rules, but ignoring them like that just makes me wonder if they know the rules in the first place. And looking like you don't know how to write is not, IMHO, a good way to be taken seriously as a writer.

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Arthur B

at 13:12 on 2009-06-09Not only does the author have a strange way with commas, he also seems to urgently need to be introduced to a semicolon or two. Harsh as I was about Jim Bernheimer, but for the most part (aside from the odd "victim's fund" gaffe) his prose was readable, at least in the sense that it was capable of being read without getting a headache.

Maybe it's just because I'm a lawgeek, but does anyone else find it odd that Charlie is asked to sign contract when she's well below the age where she can actually enter binding agreements in the first place, and when there's a grandmother handy who is presumably legally capable of doing all that for her? Mr Crow seems to be as incompetent as he is corrupt.

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Sonia Mitchell

at 23:15 on 2009-06-09I love this review. And feel pity for everyone involved.

It actually sounds a bit Neil Gaiman-ey in intention, though I'm obviously not going to read it and see.

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Wardog

at 14:52 on 2009-06-18Actually this review makes me feel guilty as hell - panning something is never fun, but really, it was all in good conscience I could do.

#Ferretbrain #Who Is Charlie Keeper #Wardog #Self-published