#i tried rolling for her with the few gems i had left and got spooked by shigure sooooo

[doppel-drop-distance]

I don’t have a dang clue what’s going on in the main story, all I know is Mikoto Sena is cute as heck and seeing her being happy with Hanna makes me SAD

#magia record #droppel plays...magia record jp? #i tried rolling for her with the few gems i had left and got spooked by shigure sooooo #anni luck over i guess xD

[lu-undy]

Hello again mate 😄, how about sniper&spy being to drunk at the event

Here it is! Be warned it is quite long becuase I enjoyed myself way too much with it!!

"Remind me why I am following you to this exhibition of drunkenness."

"It's called a beer festival, you snob, and I'm takin' you there cause remember a few weeks ago?" 

"The wine tasting?"

"Yeah, that show of posh people who don't even drink the thing… Bloody idiots, they taste it and spit it away."

"It is to not get drunk! What do you expect? You wanted them to drink it all and not being able to taste anything anymore?!"

"I don't know, it's just dumb! You taste stuff and throw it away! Would it kill you to swallow it?"

"How would you know?"

Sniper looked at his friend, intrigued, as the tone of his voice was definitely more suave than was necessary, but he soon caught the innuendo.

"Spook!"

The Frenchman laughed seeing how red his friend's face turned.

"Oh, also, here it is." 

Sniper parked the van and both stepped out. There was some music and people were swarming the wide field. Sniper started walking and Spy naturally followed his friend. The stands were colourful and as the end of the afternoon came, the lanterns switched on everywhere. 

Spy looked up at his taller friend. He saw the reflection of the million lights on his glasses and on the hunter's blue irises. Sniper felt observed and as they walked through the busy crowd, he looked down and saw the Frenchman's eyes open wide. 

"Y'alroight?"

"O-oui. I just don't like the crowd…"

Sniper was about to tell him that it was a poor lie but the Frenchman cut him.

"And when are we finally going to taste some beer? Or maybe this whole show is just to get drunk and not actually enjoy yourself?"

"Alroight, alroight, mister impatience… I wanna see if they have anythin' from Australia."

"Missing home?" 

"Yeah, nah, I want you to try it."

They moved around searching for a stand with an Australian flag or anything of the sort. 

"You think I will appreciate it?" Spy asked. 

"Oi, don't say it like you won't!" 

Spy chuckled. 

"Non, you misunderstood me, my question was genuine." 

They took a turn and Sniper looked down at his friend. 

"You? Genuine?"

"Oui, why do you sound so surprised?" 

"Are you kiddin'? You're the bloody Sp-mh?!" 

Spy swiftly turned and put his gloved hand on Sniper's mouth. 

"Oui, I know, but no else apart from you and I here need to." 

Sniper relaxed and nodded, which prompted Spy to removed his hand off of his mouth. 

"Sorry for the inconvenience. You did not leave me any choice."

"It-it's okay."

Spy's eyes shot up at the taller man who instantly looked away. The Aussie didn't want his friend to see the blush on his cheek. But as he turned his head, something caught Sniper's eye.

"Oh, look here, Australian flag!" 

Spy saw his friend's face beam up with a smile as he quickened his pace towards the stand. When they arrived, Sniper removed his hat and looked at the selection of beers. Spy smiled as he thought that Sniper would have looked the same a couple of decades ago in front of a candy shop. 

"So, Bushman, what would you recommend?" 

"Depends on what you like." 

"I will take the same thing as you do." Spy answered. 

"Alroight…!" 

A minute later they were walking through the crowd again, a bottle of Australian beer each in their hands. 

"Very different from the European ones I have tried." Spy said. 

"Is it?"

"Have you never had a German beer?" Spy asked. 

"Nah, tried an American one once, and it was awful. It had no taste and no alcohol. I mean it's a beer, so yeah, it should be light, but that one was straight water." 

"You know, I cannot disagree with you on that one…" Spy answered. 

"And you almost sound disappointed about it!"

The Frenchman chuckled. 

"Almost so indeed! Although, do remind me to make you try one, and a Belgian one too, those are a gem."

"Look at you knowin' beer almost better than me, eh?" Sniper teased. 

"I think I just know how to appreciate what I put in my mouth, unlike you." 

Sniper stopped walking and the Frenchman turned to him to ask why. 

"How would you know?" The Aussie quoted the Frenchman and Spy rolled his eyes up with a smile. 

"I see you are quoting the greatest mind of this century…" 

The Frenchman turned and started walking.

"Show off…!" 

Sniper nudged him gently and they both laughed before going back to their journey across the world… through beers. They hopped from one stand to the next, like bees from one flower to the other although, in their case, they were not gathering pollen, but alcohol. If the first few ones were inoffensive, they both started to feel the effect of the intoxicating liquid soon enough. 

"Oh my God, Spook…!" Sniper said between two laughters. "I can't leave you two seconds, can I?"

"What?"

The Aussie had gone to find the toilets and in a few minutes, the Frenchman was on a bench and had found the way to surround himself with two women. 

"Oh, is that your friend?" One of them asked Spy. 

"Oui, indeed, a very good friend, but don't be fooled, Mesdemoiselles, he and I are very different." 

[Ladies.]

"Oi, don't say it like that! Ladies, look, I'm sure you find him posh and elegant and all that but he's as snob as all hell, believe me, he's not worth it!"

"First, I am not snob, I have manners." Spy started. "And second, how would you know that I am not worth it, hm? Have you tried me maybe?" 

"God no!" Sniper answered, with a disgusted face.

"Well maybe you should! That would teach you a thing or two about how to approach ladies!" 

"What did I do wrong?! I barely said anythin' to them!"

"Exactly." Spy coldly answered and the ladies chuckled. He took their hand, one by one and left an elegant kiss on them. "Mesdemoiselles, I am sorry for my friend's rudeness. He is a bit… wild."

"Whot?!" Sniper asked, raising his arms up before dropping them.

Both women chuckled and left a kiss on the Frenchman's cheek before they went away, exchanging winks with the man in the suit. When his eyes fell on him, Sniper saw Spy undo his tie and open the two first buttons of his shirt. 

"They got you warm, eh?" 

"Non, not them." Spy put his tie in his jacket's pocket. 

"The beer then?" 

They walked from the bench they were on to deeper in the crowd.

"It is indeed getting to my head. And all this music and noise…! I feel like I need to shout for you to hear me!"

"That's because you do!"

The booming volume of the music was deafening and they were both walking not too far from the blasting speakers.

"This is unbearable Sniper!"

"I… I kinda agree with you actually, and it's getting quite late, wanna head back?!" He answered shouting as well. 

"Yes, please!" 

They both nodded to each other and came back to the van. It was far enough for them to talk at a reasonable volume, but not enough to dampen the bass booms. They could hear them distantly. 

"Mate…"

"What?" 

"I don't think I should drive, eh…"

"Oh mon Dieu…" Spy put a hand on his face. "Are you telling me that we are blocked here until either you or I sober up enough to drive?" 

"Nah…" 

"What then?" Spy asked. 

"It's until I sober up, mate. Don't you even dream of driving her around."

"Her?! It's a van!" 

"Oi! She drove me everywhere I needed to go so far!" Sniper answered.

"Oui, until now, where she is just leaving you here, huh?"

"It's not her fault I'm shit-faced!"

"Indeed, it is yours." 

"And yours!" Sniper added.

"What?! What have I got to do with you being drunk? You took me to this festival of beers!"

"Yeah well, the German and Belgian ones weren't my idea!" 

"Non, but what about the half a dozen Irish and English ones?!"

"Ahhh…" 

Sniper sighed and unlocked his van's back door. Spy watched as he saw him exit a few seconds later with a pillow and a duvet. 

"Will you sleep outside?! What is wrong with you?!" Spy asked. 

"Well unless you wanna take the roof, ya wanker...!"

"Take the roof?"

Sniper climbed up the van's roof top and rolled himself in the duvet. 

"Sniper?!"

His head peeked out and down to the Frenchman. He had removed his hat and glasses. 

"You have the bed inside. I'll take a nap and when I'm sober, I'll drive us back to the base."

The Aussie rolled back and Spy felt the van shake under the movements of the tall man looking for a comfortable position to rest. Sniper closed his eyes but he distinctly heard his friend enter the van and move inside. 

Yeah well, good night to you too, ya Spook...

Sniper's breath calmed down but Spy was making an awful lot of noise for a man paid to sneak around, and why was it getting louder and louder?

"Bushman?"

"Huh?!"

Sniper's eyes snapped wide when he felt his colleague's very breath on his ear. 

"What the hell are you doin' here?! I told you you could have the bed!"

Spy was sitting on the rooftop, next to the Aussie. 

"I don't feel sleepy." 

"Oh so I shouldn't sleep either?" Sniper asked. 

"As if you could." Spy answered, unfazed. 

"Ugh, bloody Spook, I swear…" Sniper sat up next to his colleague. 

The night was warm as it was now the middle of summer and both of them could see quite clearly in the night, the moon being full. The festival was clearly visible with its dancing mutlicolor light and general noise.

"What now? We just wait to sober up awake?" Sniper asked.

"Here." 

Spy placed two glasses between their thighs and poured some water. 

"Ya thief." Sniper said chuckling, as he realised the Frenchman had helped himself in the van. 

"You're welcome." Spy answered with a smile. 

They tipped their glasses and drank. 

"Maybe you are right about your van." Spy admitted. 

"What d'you mean?" 

"Maybe she does take you where you need to go." 

"To this festival, with a burden of a bloke in a suit…" Sniper turned and realised that Spy had removed his jacket, tie and vest. "Well, what's left of the suit anyway."

Both chuckled under the moonlight. 

"Well it is quite warm even in the night and all this… racket, it tired me and you got me walking quite a bit." Spy answered.

"Yeah, and the sheilas… If I wasn't there, would you seriously have gone back home with both?!" 

Spy laughed. 

"If I wanted, oui."

"And I am the one without manners, eh?" 

Their glasses were empty and this time Sniper filled them. 

"What does it have to do with manners?" Spy answered. "Non, I am merely the victim of my own success." 

"Arrogant wanker."

"Wild idiot."

They tipped their glasses and felt the fresh water dilute the poison they had downed before.

"Although…" Sniper started. "Maybe you're right."

"About what?" 

"Maybe you are the victim of yer success, I mean, sheilas like a bloke in a suit and tie. Add that French accent of yours and they fall like flies around ya, don't they?"

Spy rolled his eyes. 

"Such a poet you are, Sniper." 

"Oh, you know what I mean." 

"I do. And you are right, I do have my successes with the… what do you call them again? Shy-lah?"

"It's sheila."

"Where is the difference?" 

"Everywhere?!"

They looked at each other and laughed. Spy nudged Sniper with his elbow. 

"I am pulling your leg, Bushman." 

"Bloody well hope you're jokin', yeah."

"Although…" Spy started. "I know for one that you wouldn't."

"I wouldn't what?" Sniper asked. 

"You wouldn't have gone home with the two women."

"Yeah, well, I think one's enough!" Sniper chuckled. 

"Non, you misunderstood me." 

The Aussie raised an eyebrow at the serious tone of his friend. 

"What d'you mean?" He asked.

"You barely looked at them. Despite their beauty and their, well, certain shapes and arguments, your eyes where not on them, hardly ever." Spy answered and put his empty glass a bit further away. 

Sniper blushed and hoped his friend hadn't seen it. 

"Well, you might like them like that, they're not really my type…" 

"Ah," Spy pretended to believe the lie, "What is your type, then, if I may ask?"

"Y-yeah, sure, uhm, I like them…Thin, a bit shorter than me, uhm, let me see…"

"Blond or brunette?" Spy asked. 

"Doesn't really matter, I can like either. And uh…"

"Sniper?" 

"What now?" He answered, annoyed as he was trying to lie but knew he was failing miserably. 

"You know I am very familiar with half-truths and lies, oui?" 

"Y-yeah…" 

Sniper understood that Spy knew he was lying. 

"But what's your type then, eh?"

The Aussie watched as the Frenchman stole his pillow and laid down comfortably. 

"Oi-!"

"Don't complain, I could have stolen much more than just your pillow!" 

"Ugh…" Sniper sighed, exaggerating his annoyance when in fact, he found it half amusing and half soothing. Spy seemed much more humanly when he laid down somehow, it made him more simple in a way. 

Sniper laid on his side, his head propped up on his hand.

"So, yer type?"

"Well, I prefer dark hair over fair, I have a weakness for natural charms, more than for beauty in itself and above all, I like my partner to have something I cannot describe. It's that kind of charm that they wouldn't show to anyone else but me; the reason why no one can understand that I have fallen for them, but me."

Sniper had fallen silent. 

"You almost talk like you have someone in mind and you can see them in yer head." 

Spy's eyes were riveted on the starry sky. They turned and met Sniper's. 

"Hm, I see you are less of an idiot than I thought, I indeed have my heart set on someone."

"Spook…" Sniper complained at the insult. 

"Do you?" 

The Aussie blushed. 

"Ah, well, uh, kinda, yeah, I-I think."

"You are not sure?" Spy asked. 

"I-I don't know."

"Tell me about it, I am intrigued." Spy rolled on his side and looked up at the Aussie better.

"What d'you want me to say?" 

"Maybe start by describing them." Spy suggested. 

"I doesn't matter what they look like and in fact uh… I don't know how to say this but uh…"

"Just say it, I won't mock you."

"Why wouldn't you?" 

"Because this is clearly something that you feel strongly for. I am sure you are blushing and sweating bullets as we speak and yet you still push this conversation against your fears to be honest with me. I respect that greatly." 

Sniper smiled.

"Thanks. So yeah, in that case uh… I-I don't really know what they look like…"

"You have fallen for a voice? Please don't tell me it's the Administrator…!" Spy jokingly said and both chuckled. He had just wanted for Sniper to ease up a bit. 

"Nah, nah, it's not her. But yeah, the uh… person that I like, I didn't only fall for his voice, although, yeah, it's amazin'. But uhm… It's just because they manage to make stuff that I thought was hard very easy."

"Give me an example please, I don't really understand."

"Ah, yeah, so like, talking for example. I mean you know me, I'm not big on discussions but they make me talk without me feeling that I should shut up because what I'm sayin' is stupid. I actually enjoy talkin' with them, a lot, it-it's crazy…" 

Spy smiled. 

"What about you, what's yer sheila like?" Sniper asked.

"Unlike any other one I have met before."

"Ah, they always make it feel like that, eh?" 

"Non Sniper, I mean it. He is unlike any woman I have met before because he is a man." 

"A man?! You?! You like blokes?!" 

"I do, oui." Spy answered, unfazed. 

"I'd have never thought…!" 

"Neither have I." The Frenchman said with a smile. "But he makes me feel so strongly for him that I cannot possibly believe that it is mere friendly love that I have in my heart for him." 

"Woah, Spook… I didn't know you, uh…"

"Does that change anything to you?" Spy asked. 

"N-no, I mean, you do you, eh…" 

"Try again." 

"What?" 

"I said try again." 

"What's that mean?!" Sniper asked and Spy chuckled. 

"It means that you lie almost painfully badly."

The Aussie rolled his eyes and sighed. 

"Does it change anything to you that I have a man in my heart?" Spy asked again. 

"K-kinda." 

"Sniper…?"

"Alroight, yeah, it does! It changes bloody everythin'!" 

"Why?" 

"Cause…" 

The Aussie sat up and wrapped his arms around his flexed knees. 

"Cause I like a bloke too…" He finally admitted, muttering to himself.

"I see." Spy answered. "Do I have the privilege of knowing him?" 

"Y-yeah. And me, do I know who you fancy?" 

"Oui." 

"Ah, ok." 

Silence fell. 

"Sniper?"

"Hm?"

"Never have I seen you that nervous before. You are trembling next to me and I can almost hear your heartbeat from here." 

And those words didn't help the Aussie who buried his head against his thighs. Spy sat up and poured some more water in his friend's glass. 

"Here, take this and relax." 

Sniper raised his head just enough to see a glass hovering next to his head. He took it and drank to clear his throat that he felt had gone dry. 

"You know, as much as I enjoy teasing you, I do respect you, Sniper. You should not feel as if I was judging your every word because in truth, I am not. I am merely providing an ear to a friend who needs it." 

Spy pushed the pillow back to his friend and when Sniper finished drinking, he took the glass away from him and pushed him to lie down.

"Thanks, Spy."

"I will not force you to tell me more about the man who keeps you up at night, but I can tell you about mine if you want."

"Yeah."

Spy looked down at the Aussie and smiled. He lied on his side and propped his head on his hand as he looked into Sniper's eyes. 

"The man I love, he has no idea that I could feel a shred of anything for him. He maybe even doubts that I can truly love. I wish I could tell him and he could believe me."

"What would you say?" Sniper asked. "It's crazy hard to say things like that, Spook."

"I know. But if I had the courage, I would be honest with him. I would tell him that he is the reason why I wake up a bit earlier in the morning, if it means that those few more minutes, I can enjoy the sight of him. I would tell him that he keeps me up at night, in the intimacy of my thoughts, before I close my eyes and lose my grip to reality."

Spy's eyes never left Sniper's as if he could see on his pupils the picture of the man his heart was beating for. 

"I would tell him that dreaming of him is the most exquisite torture, because it makes me spend more time with him when I normally wouldn't, saying words and doing things that I am in fact way too cowardly to do in the conscious world."

Spy chuckled. 

"How many times have I told him that I loved him in my dreams? Everytime I see him. How many times have I told him that I loved him in real life? Never. How many times have I dreamt of feeling his arms around me, sharing a surreal embrace? And how many times have I been brave enough to feel his touch on me, his hands, his lips…?"

The Frenchman sighed and looked down at the space between him and his friend. 

"I wish I could mean love as well as I can fake it."

"What do you mean?" Sniper asked, finally gathering the strength to speak after his friend's powerfully earnest speech. 

"With those two women earlier, I couldn't care less about them, and yet if I wanted, I could have got them both to follow me to the moon and back. And I am not saying this out of arrogance."

"I know. You sound… different, now." 

"How so?" Spy asked. 

"I can feel it. Y-you're bein' very serious. I wish the bloke I like could like me the way you describe it."

"Pff…" Spy chuckled and Sniper realised that he was in fact mocking himself for some reason. "Well…" 

The Aussie thought there was something else in that sentence, but it never came out. 

"It is the most cruel and yet the most beautiful thing too, non? Falling in love with someone and them not feeling the same for you."

"You sure he doesn't?" Sniper asked. "I mean I say that you're arrogant all the time but clearly some people out there don't mind it, or even like it. And you got your way with people."

"I can fake it very well, oui. I can play this wild comedy where I go around and seduce anyone, but not with him. I treasure what little friendship I have with him too much to risk it." 

"Ah, well, same." 

"Really?"

"Yeah but… I mean I'm not good with words and people. I'm not good with words for people either and I'm a disaster when it comes to talkin' about my feelings."

"You haven't done too bad so far." Spy said. 

"Yeah, well, it's a miracle I'm not trippin' over my words and stutterin' like an idiot."

Sniper sighed before resuming his speech. 

"I do understand though and I feel the same. He's a friend, the bloke I like, or at least I hope he sees me like that and uh… I don't want to risk telling him the truth and losing my only friend. In any case, I'm way too shy to confess so I'll just stay in my place and wait."

"For what?" Spy asked. 

"I don't know. But I can't tell him, I can't show him and maybe it's better that way, eh. Better have a friend for sure than maybe something more or nothing at all."

"Is it though?"

Sniper raised his eyes to look at his friend's. 

"I understand what you mean obviously as I am doing the same thing but, sometimes I have this rush of madness and this voice inside of me that screams that I should tell him. Oui! Tell him! How hard can it be? It's only a few words…!"

"But?" Sniper anticipated. 

"But if I were to lose him, I would lose so much. It is the fear of losing what little I share with him that holds me back and…"

Sniper watched as his overconfident friend was again censoring himself.

"And?" He asked, almost whispering.

"And makes me a coward." Spy said. "Again and again, day after day. A coward and a liar. Oui, I know I am a spy and I lie all the time, oui, that is part of my job and I am paid for that. But I am only paid to lie to the people on the opposite team, not to him. And I hate having to lie to him."

Sniper could almost solidly grasp the distress in his friend's voice. He sat up and pushed the pillow towards Spy. 

"Non." 

Spy pushed the pillow back. 

"I… I cannot continue like this, I will find a way to go back to the base." The Frenchman said and turned back to get down to the ground.

"What?!" Sniper asked. 

"Forgive me for my being impolite but I can't continue, not like this." 

Sniper frowned and leapt back to grasp his friend by his arm and hold him back.

"Hey…" 

Spy turned to look at him. 

"What?" 

"We can talk about somethin' else, we-we can do somethin' else but please, Spy, stay… And how the hell are you gonna make it back to the base anyway? Anyone you could ask for a ride now is more drunk than we've been, combined!"

Spy sighed. 

"Don't hold me back like this, please." 

Sniper opened wide eyes as his friend looked away. Spy's voice sounded so different, so emotional, that it seemed it didn't belong to the masked backstabber Sniper knew.

"It only hurts more." 

The Aussie would have let go of anyone else, but not Spy. 

"No." 

The Frenchman's eyes darted back to Sniper's in a flash. 

"It's not safe out there." The Aussie said. 

"Need I remind you that I am a mercenary and I am armed?"

"Doesn't matter." Sniper tightened his grip on Spy's arm. "I'm not lettin' you go away and risk it."

"Why do you have to make it so difficult? As if I needed it to be harder!" Spy tried to push Sniper's hand away but to no avail. He sighed. 

"Sniper I cannot sit next to you longer."

"Why?" 

"Because-! Ugh, nevermind… I will stay." 

Spy sat next to his friend again but the silence hurt them both. The Frenchman felt guilty for causing such a nice moment to break, and Sniper felt awkward for not knowing how to deal with it. 

"Spy-"

"Sniper-"

They had both talked at the same time. 

"Go ahead, Spook."

"Non, please, after you."

"I don't even know what I wanna say."

"So why did you-?"

"I don't know…"

Silence fell again. 

"So yeah, go ahead, Spook."

"I do apologise for making this awkward." 

"Bah, I'm not helpin' either, am I?" 

Spy looked at his friend and seeing his smile chased away the sadness in his heart. 

"Non, you are not."

"Pfff…" 

They both chuckled. 

"The truth is," Spy said. "That I felt the urge to tell him the truth."

"What?"

"It was a fleeting moment of utter madness but I thought for a second that I could tell the man I love the truth. So I decided to go." 

"Oh, sorry, go ahead and tell him, Spook, I-uh, well, I'd have driven you there myself but I still can't." 

"Non, you misunderstood me."

Sniper raised his eyes and when he heard Spy gulp down hard, his eyebrow twitched. Something was wrong. 

"I did not want to go to him to tell him. I wanted to go away from him to stop myself before I told him the truth and ruin it all but…"

Spy's eyes lowered down. He was looking for his words as if the wrong one would fall on his neck like a guillotine and end him. 

"But he… He held me back." 

Sniper frowned. 

"What d'you mean Spook? I-I've lost you there." 

"Sniper, the man I love, I wanted to run away from him but he just held me back." 

"When the hell did that happen?!" 

"Just a second ago. He… Sniper…" 

"Spook, you're way more drunk that I thought…"

"Non, you idiot, why don't you understand me!" 

"Cause you're bloody confusin'!" 

"Pay attention, Bushman!"

"I am, you wanker! Just tell me very simply!" 

"Ugh, you want simple?! Is that really what you want?! Really?!" 

"Yeah! Make it clear and simple, bloody hell, how hard can it be?!" 

"Well, just about as hard as saying I love you!" 

"Yeah, well at least you're not sayin' I love you!"

"I just did!" Spy's voice jumped an octave.

"Yeah but what did you wanna run away for?!"

"I've just told you, you imbécile!"

"No, ya haven't!" 

"Do you ever, in your life, pay attention to what people say to you?!" Spy furiously asked.

"I bloody am! What is it?!"

"I love you!"

Sniper stopped sharp and blinked repeatedly, his eyelashes fluttering as the words hit his head. 

"What…?! Quit messin' about!" 

"I am not! Ugh…" Spy sighed, annoyed. 

Both took a second to let the sound of their voice ripple away from them and diffuse in the air.

"What's the matter?" Sniper asked gently. 

"The man I love."

"Yeah?" 

"It's you, Sniper."

"It… It can't be true, surely you're lyin'."

"See? This is exactly what I told you I feared, that even if I told him, he wouldn't believe me. And why is it so hard for you to accept this? I am not asking that you love me back, I just want you to believe me when I say it."

"Because… I uh… Well…" 

Spy raised his eyes to his friend. 

"At this point, Sniper, just say it. It can't be harder than me confessing my feelings to you."

"Well…"

"Well what?" 

"I uh… I kinda… Ahem… me too." 

"You too what?" Spy asked. "My turn to ask you to be clear."

"The bloke I love…"

"Oui, what about him?" Spy asked impatiently, or jealously, maybe even both, Sniper couldn't tell. 

"I also… Dream about him. In my dreams, he loves me too and uh… the reason why I don't know what he looks like is because…"

"You can't see his face clearly in your dreams?" 

"Yeah but… Even in real life, he always hides his face b-but I've seen his eyes and…"

Sniper looked away. He couldn't withstand Spy's eyes on him. 

"He has gorgeous eyes, very light blue and… Spy, the lips that you have…! Huh-fuck?!"

Sniper smacked his own hand on his mouth and closed his eyes. 

"Sniper, did you just say…?"

"Bugger… Well I guess I can't make it clearer now, can I?" 

Silence fell and Sniper slowly turned his head to face the man his heart had been secretly beating for. 

"Non, but you can test it…" 

Sniper's eyes fell on Spy's lips and his own parted. He shyly bent a bit on his side and Spy did the same, his fair eyes seeing that what the Aussie wanted, he wanted it too.

Their lips met. 

Under the booms of the distant concert and the one of the proximity of their racing hearts. 

They laced theirs arms and their hands as they both fulfilled a dream that they were adamant would only remain a dream.

Non, nah. Their hearts were louder that the festival's speakers.

"I love you…" Sniper whispered as he pushed Spy to lie down, between two kisses. 

"I love you too…" He heard the French accent sing back. 

And no one slept on the bed in the van. They both remained on the rooftop, Sniper lying on the pillow and Spy using his shoulder like one, as he peppered kissed on his tall lover's neck. 

"Je t'aime." 

[I love you.]

He whispered and Sniper smiled.

"I never thought I'd hear you say it in real life." 

"Have you heard it in your dreams before?" Spy asked. 

"Yeah."

"In French?" 

"Oui, mon amour."

[Yes, my love.]

The accent was off but Sniper's words hit Spy seriously as he clenched his grasp on his lover's chest and he slid a leg between his. Sniper bit his lip. Hearing Spy moaning on him was something he hadn't dreamed about before it really happened.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

[stella-monstrum]

“Autopsy of Jane Doe”[ IFC MIDNIGHT, 2016] [Rated R]

(Review & My Parallel Film Theory)

(NSFW CONTENT AND POTENTIAL SPOILERS)

(Written by Stella, edited by Jacob J.)

No matter the genre, the independent film industry holds many hidden gems within it. Studio IFC has been in the game for close to twenty years now, but it wasn’t until 2010 that it unveiled its plans for their “Midnight” collection and genre.

“Many of our most successful VOD titles are those that might fall under the Midnight label – not just films that are straight up horror, erotic arthouse, or genre films, but also ones that shock audiences, push boundaries, and stir up controversy – so officially creating IFC Midnight was the logical next step,” President of IFC Entertainment Jonathan Sehring in a statement. (SOURCE: indiewire.com // HERE)

But the focus in this article will be solely on the horror genre, specifically the 2016 supernatural/horror/thriller standout The Autopsy of Jane Doe. My review, thoughts, and analysis will include some changes I would have made to change the story itself.  Now, full disclaimer, my changes and reimagining will not affect my rating on the film overall, per se.

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

[REVIEW]

One thing that was honestly a surprise (albeit a pleasant one) was how small the cast actually was. Whilst there are ten actors and actresses listed on the IMDb page, the film focuses on only five of them, eventually whittling the action down to three. My honest thought? “With such a small amount of people only being focused on, this will get boring quickly.” But boy, I was 100% wrong in that assumption. If ANYTHING, it only intensified every moment on, Add in dramatic references, film scoring, and film aesthetics? It was just icing on the creep cake.

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

Let’s begin with the cast and breakdown of the story:

Brian Cox and Emile Hersch as father-son coroner duo Tommy and Austin Tilden

Ophelia Lovibond as Emma, Austin’s girlfriend

Olwen Kelly as Jane Doe

Michael McElhatton as Sheriff Burke (an albeit brief focus)

Left to right: Austin, Emma and Tommy (Screencap, Autopsy of Jane Doe, 2016)

~~~~~~

From the beginning of the film, you are immediately immersed within a brutal crime scene. It seems fairly straightforward in what appears to be a triple homicide. I was taken by (delighted) surprise that it kicked off at such a fast pace, so much so that I physically felt that I’d lost my footing (while sitting). But as the police and forensic team further search the home for evidence, they wind up finding a pristinely preserved and very nude corpse, one only partially covered in dirt down in the basement. This new revelation doesn’t fit what they’ve pinned down to be a homicide.

Enter a quieter and uneventful small town setting. Here we are introduced to Austin and Tommy Tilden, running a very small coroner business out of the basement of their home (blasting rock and roll from the radio whilst they do their job—a very cool touch.) Austin comes off as a young adult who doesn’t want to be stuck in this small town, let alone in this profession. He feels bad since father Tommy is otherwise alone and widowed. 

The Tilden home/business (Screencap, Autopsy of Jane Doe, 2016)

~~~~

Austin’s girlfriend Emma comes in to pick him up after his shift for a date they had planned. (This part plays into my reimagining later.) Emma sneaks up to scare Austin, then begs and pleads with him to let her see a dead body and what they do for a living. Austin flat out refuses, but then his dad allows Emma to pick one to view. Tommy also explains that they keep bells around the ankles of some corpses (a practice with origins in an old wives’ tale: if the person isn’t dead, the bell will jingle). Austin gets back at Emma by ringing the bell on one of the bodies to scare her, and she threatens that he “won’t be getting laid.” (Emma comes off as a very strong type—and not in a flattering chemistry way)

Just as they’re about to leave for their date, Sheriff Burke comes in with an urgent request: they have 24hrs to perform the autopsy of the Jane Doe found in the opening scene. Austin decides that, with the urgency and his guilt, to stay behind and assist, asking Emma to come back later.

As they perform what they thought would be just another autopsy to find clues as to how or why Jane Doe met her end, things get very eerie and strange. These events elicit goosebumps: from a shift in music to a creepily upbeat version of the McGuire Sisters’ 1954 song “Let the Sunshine In,” to an awful storm coming in seemingly out of nowhere, knocking a tree into the cellar exit, trapping the Tildens inside. The family cat gets killed. The bodies in the morgue awaken. The power goes out. These usually run-of-the-mill supernatural tropes are 100 times more dramatic with the focus only on the two men.

While they examine Jane layer by layer, her fingerprints are nowhere to be found in their system, and her trauma and, injuries in total, do not seem to match up with the crime.

Peat soil from “up northeast” found under her fingernails

No outward visible signs of marking or bruising

Broken wrists and ankles

Ripped out tongue

Mutilated genitalia

Missing tooth (which was force fed to her in a cloth with a ritualistic sigil in it)

Flower with paralyzing properties (and not native to the area) in her stomach

Horribly burned lungs and internal organs covered in scar tissue. 

A very much active brain

Roman numerals and symbols carved into her skin

Markings on the cloth alluding to Leviticus 20:27 (which condemns witches) and the year 1693 (a reference to the Salem Witch Trials)

Austin and Tommy do not come out of this unscathed—or alive, for that matter. While trying to escape in the elevator when being chased by one of the belled-up corpses, Tommy hacks away at it in the dark. But, once the power comes back on, it is revealed to be Emma. Tommy gets attacked by unseen forces (since he is the one primarily performing the exam). They finally reveal that Jane Doe was likely thought to be a witch during the Trials, but the people who performed the ritual were horribly wrong—and ended up turning her into the very thing they sought to destroy. Tommy pleads with the witch to take him as long as she leaves Austin alone, and all of her horrific injuries get transferred to the elder Tilden, leaving Austin to put his father out of misery. Austin, however, gets spooked by a hallucination (provided by Jane) of his dead father on the stairs leading up to the exit. He falls and snaps his neck.

The next day, Jane Doe is in pristine form on the exam table. The Sheriff cannot understand what could have happened since he’d known the Tilden’s for so long, and decides to send Jane off to the next county. The ending features Jane being transferred into the van, a creepily upbeat song playing once again.

All in all, if I were nitpicking, the only real complaint I’d have is that some of the suspenseful moments were drawn out a few seconds too long. On top of that, they shouldn’t have killed off the family cat, Stanley. That said, if you’re into supernatural thrillers or just looking for a film for date night, this would certainly be one to consider. 

(7/10 stabs)  🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪

(Reimagining AHEAD)

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

Now after watching the film, I got to thinking. This is my reimagining of sorts, and a theory that they could have used to cash in on a continuation:

Let us rewind a little bit. Remember Emma? Think back to this scene specifically: 

(I do NOT own the rights to this clip, simply sharing for viewing to set the scene)

༺═──────────────═༻

In this parallel theory there are a few points of change that come to mind initially:

1. Tommy has a more stubborn personality, absolutely and flat out refusing to let Emma see the cadavers

As he (Tommy) shoos Emma out, that is when the Sheriff urgently brings in Jane Doe. Austin convinces his father to let Emma stick around. Tommy then has the attitude of, “If she wants to see a dead body we’ll let her see the entire process.”

Jane’s body gets taken into the Tilden’s business. (Screencap, Autopsy of Jane Doe, 2016)

Whilst the Tilden’s are performing the examination, Emma begins to get bored (before shit gets weird and they essentially awaken Jane’s warnings)

2. When things slowly proceed to get horrific, the further that they get into things, Emma touches the ritual cloth that was used to force-feed Jane her molar, then Austin scolds her for touching evidence.

Progressively after touching the ritual cloth, Emma begins to get very sick. This not only adds an anxiety-inducing level of conflict on top of having to deal with Jane Doe’s unfolding evil, but also provides a deeper layer to the film.

Austin and Tommy examine the ritual cloth. (Screencap, Autopsy of Jane Doe, 2016)

The more that they poke, prod, and try to fight Jane, the worse Emma’s condition gets. Austin has to drag her along whilst also trying to protect his father from the witch’s attacks.

3. You get to the point of looming dread when it becomes clear that Austin cannot save his father, and seemingly Emma as well. (Also fuck it that the cat stays alive and alerts Austin of danger, cause why not?)

After Tommy begs Austin to kill him once all of Jane’s injuries transfer to the elder Tilden (VIEW HERE); Emma’s eyes become clouded like Jane’s.

While Austin tries everything that he can to keep Emma comfortable, he tries to perform a ritual himself to destroy the evil brought in. 

4. For Austin’s final attempt, he burns Jane in the incinerator. 

Jane Doe is far from done causing harm and suffering. When she is burned, Emma takes her place. Seemingly, her magic makes the sheriff believe that Emma was the one that was brought in.

Tommy’s death is made look like a suicide.

Since the Tildens only had 24 hours to solve this case, the Sheriff understands that Austin couldn’t get the job done due to the loss of his father. But rules are rules, and he’s forced to transfer Jane Doe’s (now Emma’s) cadaver to the next county. 

While she’s being taken out and Austin is being asked protocol police questions, the eerie song plays on the radio.

5. Austin knows that he has to hunt Emma’s cursed body into the next county. (And takes the cat with him, because the cat didn’t need to die.)

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Who would LOVE to see a sequel like this?!

#film #film theory #film thoughts #autopsy of jane doe #2016 #ifc #ifc midnight #horror #horror film #horror movies #horror reads #horror review #conspiracy theory #film review #movie review #review blog #review #creepy #spooky #highly reccomend #i reccomend it #independant film #indie #indie films #female blogger #blogger #new blogger #new blog #essay #horror aesthetic

[arisunakayama]

Can We Just Talk? Human!Spinel X Fem!Reader (College!Au) Pt. 2

Walking through the door that led you into your next class, you had reached your seat before the bell had rung. You set your textbook and notebook down, plopping into your seat before letting out a long exhale while you began to slouch into your seat.

'What a great way to start class...' You thought to yourself before a voice right beside your seat had called out your name, catching your attention.

"Hey, (Y/n). You good? You look like something had spooked you on your way to class." Steven asked, his body twisted slightly to look at you as an eyebrow was raised.

"Yeah yeah... I just... Ran into an old friend. It's nothing bad don't worry about it. I just..." You trail off, becoming quieter as you sigh once more.

"Are you sure Hon? It looks like you and your 'old friend's' run in didn't go well." A voice pipe up from the row behind you and Steven.

Turning around you see a familiar face with rainbow color dreads. Bismuth was leaning over her desk looking down at you as her eyebrows were furrowed together.

Bismuth was someone who seemed to stand out to you a lot. Maybe it was because of her beautiful rainbow dreads that had her real hair color fading from the roots and down to her ends into the colorful dye that was in put into her hair. She kept it out of her face with a purple bandanna. Sometimes she'd put it up in a ponytail just so that they'd stay in place whenever she was working on her project in her Wood Shop Class.

She also seemed to have a really soft heart for her friends. You remembered the time she reacted when she had seen her friends once again after coming to the same college as you and the Crystal Gems.

"It didn't... But, no one got hurt at least." You smile sheepishly, laughing nervously before the smile on your lips turned into a frown. "We just had a little argument, that's all..."

"Y'know (Y/n), you're going to have to talk to her again someday right? I mean, you do live on the same dorm floor as 'she' does. It's not good for the both of you to be acting like this with one another." Bismuth crossed her arms, her words getting to you making you look to the side with guilt welling up in your chest.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, she was right. You had to talk to her one day, whether you liked it or not. It wasn't fair to how you were treating Spinel after all that's happened to her. And you acting the way you were with her wasn't helping with getting over her past trauma.

Yet every time you try to even talk to her, you'd freeze up or your words get stuck in your throat. But what made you stop trying to talk to her was the aching feeling in your chest whenever you'd see Spinel and Peep together. Even if you tried so hard to not assume what was going on between them, the ache in your chest along with an overwhelming emotion would stop you from.

You close your eyes for a second before looking at both Steven and Bismuth with a half smile and said that same lie you always tell them.

"Guys, I'm fine, really!" You knew they weren't convinced. Their eyes giving you that look that you've always seen them give you. The look of pity as you lie through your teeth over and over again. But the lie was enough for them to stop pushing for more.

◕✿◕✿◕✿◕✿◕✿◕✿◕✿◕

As class had flew by leading you into the next break time, lunch, you had sat down at a table with your friends that consisted of Garnet, Pearl, Peridot and Lapis.

Peridot was currently sitting by Lapis as she scrolled through her phone, looking for anything new in her feed. Her lime green eyes flickering back and forth from whatever she was looking at on the screen.

She was pretty smart honestly despite being glued to the screen of her electronics. But despite all of that, Peridot could be sweet. It even went with Lapis.

Lapis was actually pretty untrusting with you the first few months of you being in her group. If anything, she didn't really let you in until after maybe a month ago. But once she let you into her little circle of friends, she also became pretty sweet towards you. You still gave her space though due to what happened between her and Jasper...

"So (Y/n), I heard from Steven that you had an encounter from Spinel again." Peridot piped up making you internally curse at her for bringing up what happened.

"What? Did she do anything to you?" Pearl looked at you. The concern in her eyes as her eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. We pretty much had talk which was... Cut short." You sit up straight while you scratched the back of your neck, mumbling the last part.

"(Y/n)... " Garnet had taken off her sunglasses, her Ruby ans Sapphire eyes looking straight into you (e/c) eyes. "You're going to have to talk to her at some point. You do know this right?"

You did know this and you honestly didn't want it to come to that. At least right now that is. It took you a moment to look back at Garnet.

"Yeah... I know..." You sighed.

"Okay averting this topic, what's everyone doing after school?" Lapis piped in, her head resting on her hand as she looked at everyone.

“Steven had asked me and Garnet for help on some homework he had. So we’re going to help him after school.” Pearl smiled. The both of them, along with Amethyst, had known Steven for quite some time actually along with his mother, Rose. They’ve always viewed him as their kid or as their little sibling when it came to raising Steven with his father, Greg Universe.

"I might just go back to the dorm since there's nothing really to do honestly..." You hummed and you closed your eyes for a few seconds. “Just probably go and watch some YouTube or go look at some stuff on Tumblr.”

"Just hang out in our dorm then." Peridot said, not looking up from her phone as she continued to scroll through her feed.

"You sure? I don't want to interrupt anything that'll go on between you and Lapis here." You grinned as both Lapis and Peridot glared at you, their face flushing before Lapis punched you in the arm.

"Ow ow! Okay I'm sorry!" You laughed, rubbing your arm while Pearl and Garnet chuckled.

"You're not coming into our dorm anymore..."

"No! No! Lapis I'm sorry!" You cry, laughing even harder than before making her roll her eyes and push you away while she snickered.

“Excuse me... (Y/n). Could I talk to you?” A familiar voice piped up from behind.

You had twisted your body to see who had called you only for your eyes to meet familiar pink one. Peep had smiled down at you softly as she cocked her head to the side. Your eyes wide a you felt your throat closing up a bit.

“O-Oh... H-Hi, Peep...” You muttered out, giving her a nervous chuckle as you had made yourself small. “What did you need to talk about..?”

“It’s better if I talk to you in private, considering it’s between you and you know who...” 

‘Fuck.... How did I know that she was going to talk about her...’ You mentally screamed in your head. A soft whine had escaped from your mouth as you looked away.

“...Sure um...” You look back at your friends “I’ll be right back in a bit. If not then I’ll see you guys after school.” The four had all looked at each other before looking back you, their heads nodding as they gave you a look telling you to be careful. After that, you had gotten up from your seat and looked back at Peep who motioned you to follow her. Which you did.

The both of you had ended up in an empty classroom, you entering through the door before closing it behind you with a soft click. You look back at Peep.

“So, what did you want to talk about... With me and Spinel..?” 

“How come you keep avoiding Spinel? She keeps wondering what she did that made you drift away from us... From her?” Peep had frowned. Her eyes staring into yours hoping that you’d give her a straight answer. But instead you just stared at her, your (e/c) eyes staring straight into her light pink ones. A sigh had escaped through your mouth before you took a step towards her, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder as you never left your stare on her eyes.

Might as well tell her some of the truth of why you left.

“Peep... As much as I hate to admit this, I’m a terrible communicator. You know this... But, I left because I felt like I was a third wheel between you and Spinel. I felt as if I was being left out whenever I’d hangout with you guys...” You weren’t entirely wrong. You gave her a sheepish smile only for it to fall into a frown as you looked to the side, guilty for not being able to talk to them like you should’ve. For leaving them confused.

“I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I? Especially for leaving without saying a thing to you guys. Especially to Spinel considering what happened to her between her and Rose...” You hung your head low as Peep looked at you with wide eyes.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” A voice had come from the doorway, startling both you and Peep. You turn your head towards the doorway and paled seeing the one person you were currently trying to avoid.

It was Spinel.

#spinel #spinel steven universe #spinel x reader #spinel x oc #steven universe #steven universe pearl #pink pearl steven universe #pink pearl #garnet #garnet steven universe #peridot steven universe #steven universe lapis #can we just talk fanfic

[quirks-of-a-fangirl]

Another Quick Blurb

Here’s some more of Piper and Harry time! Please give me all the feedback! What else would you want to see?

Word Count: 3221

As the finishing bars of The Christmas Song floated through the air, Piper closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hates this time of year. The whole world won’t let her forget that this month was supposed to be filled with happiness and family and cheer and love. Piper’s December was not filled with any of that. It was a time filled with triggers and anxiety and fights and loneliness. 

She rarely went home to visit her family. All that ever happened was hurt. They hurt her. She’d sometimes hurt them back. No one was happy when she was home so she cut down the visits to once a year- at Christmas. 

Harry has tried to convince her to just spend Christmas with his family. He would do the cleaning. His mom would do the cooking. His sister would do the presents. Piper could just do the drinking. But Piper knew she would never hear the end of it from her mom and sister if she didn’t go home for a bit. 

So home she went. She drove the few hours to see her family and it was fine for about 24 hours. Piper was shocked at who broke the peace this time, though. Her younger sister was playing her Christmas music at full volume and the song was one that brought all of the shit of Christmases past right to the surface. Piper could feel the anxiety attack coming.

“Can we just turn down the music? Or turn it off?” Piper turned away from her sister. Piper reached toward the volume control on the stereo. 

“God, why did you even come home if you were going to be such a killjoy?”

Piper’s head snapped around to look at what she expected to be her mom, but no. It was her sister saying those things to her.

“Everything has to be just like you want it, doesn’t Piper? You’re just like mom.”

Piper couldn’t talk as her sister just turned the music up, making it heard throughout the house. The tears welled up in Piper’s eyes and she turned the knob down. Her sister pushed her and turned the knob back up. 

“God, just go home.”

So Piper did. She hadn’t wanted to come in the first place- she was guilted into it, just like every other year. She silently grabbed her bag and started walking out the door. 

“You can’t even spend Christmas with us? You hate us that much?” Her mom’s voice hit her ears. Piper didn’t even bother stopping. She was too upset to be effective like her therapist taught her. Whatever Piper said would be twisted and turned around. She was starting to wish she had taken Harry’s offer. 

She closed the door behind her and got in her car. She pulled away from the driveway before she let the tears fall. She refused to let them see her crying again because of their words. They didn’t need more ammunition. She cried the rest of the way back to her apartment. 

Persephone, her little tortoiseshell kitten, came bounding over to her, the little bell on her collar tinkling. She made little squeaks to show her confusion. Mom had set out food for a few days and took her bag, which usually meant a few days of ruling the house for the small cat.

“Hi, little miss. I know I’m home early but I just missed you too much to stay away, Sweet Girl,” Piper scratched the cat’s belly as she flopped over at her mom’s feet. 

Piper set her bag down and picked up the cat to really give her some love. When she started wriggling in Piper’s arms, she put her down and went to change.

 Harry had left his forest green pullover at her place before they both left to visit family. She picked it up. It still smelled like him. She took off the nice outfit she had put on for the Christmas Eve festivities and pulled the oversized sweatshirt over her head. Pulling the sleeves over her hands and putting them up to her face, she inhaled deeply. Even from miles away, Harry was bringing her some comfort on this awful night.

She grabbed her blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her as she walked back to the couch. Persephone cuddled up right next to her as she turned on the shitty reality tv show she had been watching on Netflix. Piper just wanted to forget what happened and drown her sorrows in drag queen drama.

About 20 minutes into the episode, her phone began buzzing. At first, she ignored it. It was most likely her mom wanting to chew her out for leaving. It finally stilled. Then the phone buzzed again. It was Harry trying to FaceTime her. She slid the grey circle to the right, not even bothering to unwrap her head from the blankets she burrowed into earlier.

“Lovey! I proper miss ya, don’t I? Been chatting me mum’s ear off about it so I figured I better call ya instead!” Harry kept going, “She and Gem are making cookies and I snuck away to call. I can’t wait for you to try- wait. Are you on your couch?”

Harry’s mom and sister had come over from the UK to visit Harry. They were staying at a hotel near his tiny one-bedroom apartment near campus. That’s why he had wanted her over so badly, to just stay home this year.

“Yeah.”

“But I thought- shit.”

“Harry watch your language while your mother is here!” Anne called from the next room.

Harry rolled his eyes. Piper just stayed quiet. Harry knew Piper didn’t get along with her family, knew that she only went home once a year for a reason. It didn’t take much for him to connect the dots. 

“I’m coming over.”

“Harry, no. Your family is there to see you. I’m fine. Just go help with the cookies.” There was no way she was letting him come over and ruin his family time.

“We don’t need him messing up our cookies. Please let him over, just for our sakes!” Gemma’s face appeared on the screen. Harry looked at his sister horrified, then back at Piper.

“Even though that was mean, it doesn’t change the fact that I am still coming over.” And with that, the call ended. 

Chuckling, Piper shook her head. Anne was not going to let Harry out of her sight on Christmas Eve. They had come in from across the ocean. No way.

So when the door starting opening 10 minutes later, she was confused. Her head popped up over the back of her couch to look at the door and Harry busted out laughing. She was all wrapped and bundled in her blankets, much like a burrito, and just her eyes and nose were visible over the couch. 

“Anne wasn’t supposed to let you leave.”

“You’re practically her second daughter. No way in hell she wasn’t going to let me come see you.” He smirked at her, “Plus I’m an adult so I can do whatever I want.”

“You trying to tell me or yourself?”

“Heeeeeyyy!” Harry whined as he walked over to her nest on the couch. He picked up her legs so he could sit down, putting them over his lap when he settled. 

“What did your mom do this time?”

“It was my sister, actually. Told me I was just like mom,” Piper said quietly, looking at her twisting fingers.

“What the fuck,” Harry sat up from his lounged position, “That’s literally what you’ve been working on in therapy for years. You are the furthest thing from being your mom. She’s the one being like your mom!” His voice started to rise. Piper started to shrink. Harry checked himself when he saw this. “Sorry, lovey. I just can’t believe she would say that to you. No matter what happened.”

Piper smiled the beginning of a smile, her right cheek lifting with the corner of her mouth. Harry was so protective of her therapy work, of her. 

“Harry, it’s ok. I’m ok. I left before it got worse.”

“Allison is gonna be so proud. I’m proud.”

Piper’s cheeks got warm. They were definitely reddening. She’d never get used to the pride that her therapist and her best friend offered her consistently. So Piper just snuggled into Harry’s side as Harry’s tattooed arm pulled her closer. 

“Have you seen the space challenge in this season yet? The challenge twist was insane!”

And with that, they watched the drag queens as they battled it out. After an episode and a half, Piper turned the television off. 

“Hey! The next episode is the best one in the season,” Harry whined.

“Harry, you need to go spend time with your family. So get your cute ass up and leave.”

Harry just frowned at her as she got up from the couch. The blankets fell in a pile around her feet. His eyes widened as he took in her pant-less state. Her, Harry’s, sweatshirt rode up her thighs as she stretched. Harry looked away. Piper pulled the sweatshirt back down. 

“Sorry,” she murmured. Harry stayed quiet, still not looking at her. She figured he was annoyed with her wearing his sweatshirt so she hurried to change. “I’ll get this off so you can take it with you when you leave.” 

Piper rushed to her room, spooking the sleepy kitten on her bed. She found some jeans and a comfy shirt to throw on as Persephone got up and stretched her little legs and then resettled. 

Piper went back out, pullover in hand. Harry was still sitting on her couch, head in his hands. He looked up when she stopped in the doorway. 

“You’re gonna freeze, love. Put the pullover back on so we can go,” Harry told her as he stood.

“Go?”

“Yeah. Go. Back to my place.”

“Harry I’m not intruding on Christmas with your family.”

“Not intruding, babe. Never intruding,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around her and looking down at her with those green eyes.  And that’s how somehow she ended up with the sweatshirt on and back at Harry’s apartment, his mom and sister twittering around her. 

“Oh, you’re even prettier than Harry said!”

“Your necklace is just the cutest!”

“We have been dying to meet ya!”

“Come get some cookies!”

“Did ya eat yet? Harry get her a plate.”

Piper didn’t even have time to be overwhelmed with the women. They gave her food and drinks and hugs. They asked her how her masters was going, all about her work in the schools, how her tiny cat was doing. It was like catching up with her oldest friends. 

Harry had planted himself right next to her and refused to move all night. He constantly had a hand on her: an arm around her shoulder, a hand on her leg, fingers twisted with her own. Piper was used to the affection- Harry was always so clingy. But tonight it was more than the usual. She figured he was just happy his family was here and tipsy on his red wine.

Around 11, Anne and Gemma started saying their goodnights and gave hugs all around. 

“I’m making a full English tomorrow for breakfast so you better be here hungry,” Anne squeezed Piper tightly. 

“Mum’s gonna proper spoil ya tomorrow,” Gemma giggled in Piper’s ear. 

Anne whispered in Harry’s ear and his cheeks turned a dark pink before he kissed her cheek and ushered the women out the door. 

“What’d she say?” Piper asked him.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head and chuckled. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

“Ok, let me grab my phone and we can leave.”

“What? No. You’re staying over.” 

“I’m not staying over when you’re family is getting here early. Especially on Christmas Eve.”

“It being Christmas Eve is all the more reason to stay.” He replied quickly, the smirk he wore turning it into a game.

“Your couch is covered in presents from your mom.”

“You’re taking the bed so that’s not an issue.” He smirked, thinking he was winning

“What about you?” This was Piper’s winning move. There was not enough room in this apartment for both of them.

“Well, I was taking the bed, too, actually.”

Oh. 

The butterflies erupted in her belly. He wanted to share a bed. With her. They had spent the night at each other’s places before, but always on the couch or the floor in front of the Netflix marathon they were in the middle of watching. This was so different. They would be so close, bodies almost touching, all night. There was no way Piper would get any sleep if he were that close. She stood there, guppying her mouth open and closed. The glint in Harry’s eye told her that this was the reaction he was going for. 

“Only if you’re ok with it, that is.”

“Yeah. No. Why wouldn’t I be fine with it? I’m totally fine with it.” She was rambling now. It was just making her butterflies worse.

Harry nodded his head once and started to lock up the front door. Piper took a deep breath. It was too shaky to bring her any comfort as Harry called over to tell her he was going back to his room to change. This did nothing to steady the shaky breaths Piper pulled into her lungs. She took one final breath and started back to the bedroom. With a small knock, Piper checked to see if Harry was decent. 

“Come in, lovey,” she heard through the door. So she opened the door to find Harry ready for bed. Her eyes scanned from his slightly messy curls down the inked skin of his toned torso all the way to the grey joggers resting low on his hips. He was so beautiful that Piper almost let out a sigh. 

“Looks like you’re overdressed. I thought you might want this so I pulled it out for you.” Harry pointed to the worn Rolling Stones t-shirt that Piper stole every time she could her hands on it. She smiled to herself as she picked up the shirt and held it gently in her hands. 

“I’ll- um, well, I’ll let you change real quick.” He hesitated and then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Piper quickly switched clothing. Looking in the mirror hanging on Harry’s closet door, she tugged the bottom of the t-shirt down just a little more. It skimmed her thighs and the bottom of her panties were just peeking out. There was a small knock on the door before Harry stuck his head in and stopped. His eyes widened as he took in the girl standing in front of his mirror. He cleared his throat and Piper turned around, still tugging at the bottom of the borrowed shirt. 

“It’s a little short,” she said quietly.

“Mmm,” was all he did to acknowledge her statement. He just looked at Piper. 

“Well I’m getting kind of tired, so…”

This seemed to shake him awake, “Yeah, of course. I’ll get the lights.” Piper climbed into the right side of the bed while Harry switched off the overhead lights and plugged in the strand of fairy lights above the bed. He climbed in beside Piper and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her. At first touch, Piper stiffened. Her skin tingled. But she relaxed into Harry’s touch when he placed a gentle kiss to her hair.

And that’s how they slept the whole night. With Harry’s arms around Piper and her cuddled into his chest. 

Piper woke up to the sound of soft laughter and the smell of breakfast cooking. Piper quickly pulled on a pair of boxers she found in Harry’s drawers and walked out to the kitchen to Anne cooking at the stove, Gemma rummaging in the fridge, and Harry standing by the toaster. 

Anne was the first to notice her, “Oh! Piper! Harry told me you’re a vegetarian. Gem is, too, so there are tons of things for you two to eat.” Piper smiled as she said her thanks. Harry looked over at her, face lighting up. He walked over to her and wrapped her in a hug. His tall frame towered over her as he whispered, “Ya look so cute in my clothes, lovey.”

Piper’s cheeks burned as she pulled away. She asked Anne for something to help with. She was tasked with cutting the bread for the toast that Harry was buttering. After their full English, the four started the present opening. Piper took over the job of photographer for the crew, capturing the reactions to each present and each sweet moment between the family members. She was shocked when the last two presents had her name on them. Harry handed them to her. One had her name printed in beautiful handwriting and the other had her name scrawled on it in Harry’s messy handwriting. Piper looked at the three people surrounding her, mouth agape. 

“We hoped we would get to see you while we were out here so we got you a gift. I hope you don’t mind,” Anne told her gently. Piper opened the gift from the women with shaking hands. The paper opened up to a deep red leather-bound journal with her name pressed into the bottom right corner in a swirling script. A long satin ribbon was sticking out of the book, marking the first page. Piper spent way too much of her free time journaling, already filling up 3 journals this year. This was a perfect addition to her collection. She thanked the women with tears in her eyes.

“Of course, sweet girl! You’ve brought so much happiness to Harry’s life, it’s the least we could do. Harry told us you always have a journal with you and go through them so quickly.”

“My turn now,” Harry nudged the next gift toward her. 

“I don’t have yours here,” Piper replied as she picked up the gift. 

“Doesn’t matter, love.” Piper pulled the paper away and she was met with a box to open. She looked over to Harry with a confused look and he just nodded at her to keep going. She took the top off and gasped. Sitting inside were tickets. Tickets to her favorite artist. Tickets in the front row. The tickets she had tried so hard to get when they went on sale but sold out before she could get any. She had saved up for months to get these tickets. Piper looked up at Harry. He was just smiling, dimples popping. She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

“Did I mess up, lovey? These are the ones you wanted, right? I got two so I could go with you, if that’s ok,” Harry worried. 

Piper just nodded, trying to calm down her breathing. She threw her arms around his neck. He returned her hug, pulling her close and kissing her hair again. She drew away, wiping at her eyes. 

“Thank you all so much.”

The rest of the afternoon was filled with giggles as they all cleaned up the aftermath of the gift exchange. Piper couldn’t remember a Christmas that she felt this loved and this cared for. 

#Harry Styles #hary styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x ofc

[rayonfrozenwings]

WAITING IN THE FREEZING DARK: CHAPTER 14 - Home Cooking

Spoiler Alert: Contains references to ACOFAS.

Authors Note: Apologies for quick succession. It’s writing season apparently.

A Nessian Fan Fiction: Characters all belong to Sarah J Maas and her book series A Court of Thorns and Roses. This Story takes place after ACOFAS. The story has Multiple POV’s, taking place in the Illyrian camp, Windhaven, Nesta and Cassian are living together at the behest of the high lord and lady of the night court.

Chapter 14 - Home Cooking. Nesta and Cassian are at the Market deciding their next course of action.

Previous chapters are here: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 7  8, 9, 10, 11 , 12 , 13 and Masterlist here.

I have also put this on AO3: Series Link  :)

WC 1913

Nesta The walk around the lake felt more peaceful than Nesta thought possible, fireflies flew through whistling reeds and up around the various fae and night court creatures. Twinkling in the night, drawing Nesta’s attention to the many delicacies laid out on blankets in the tree lined space before the clearing. Beautiful faeries of all types clustered around the blankets, or at least what looked like blankets - the one closest was made of frosted silver leaves and yellow flowers, noticeably different from the surrounding greenery and moss.

Nesta continued to assess, taking in all around her.

The majority of the groups looked like families traveling together and others looked like romantic pairings, cuddling close and sharing food. Amazing how this place can exist in such isolation from everything else she had experienced in the night court. Fires and stalls filled the clearing and behind them, under the canopy of the trees she could see caravans and tents all set up to house the people running the market.

The very busy market - fairies of all types moving about to get something to their taste. Mole like creatures with large eyes and claws, small balls of fluff with long twig like limbs, and more humanoid Fae with wings, scales and all manners of colours moved about the space. It was busier near the food than it had been inside the cavern.

Cassian had been gone for a while now and she hoped he could see her among the crowd. Nesta shouldn’t have worried, he leaped over a small child - legs kicking up to the side while still holding the food. The child continued on oblivious to his near crash, chasing a possibly older sibling through the chaos. Cassian turned his grinning face her way, clearly glad that she saw his feat of agility and gesturing to an unoccupied place to sit with his full hands.

“That was close.” he said, handing her something that instantly reminded her of Elain. The smell of bread wafted up from the parcel and Nesta was overcome with homesickness. Opening it up she took a large bite and then another one. Savouring it as much of the dish as she could, letting the flavours move over her tongue. She closed her eyes and let the happy memories of her sisters drown her, all three at peace, before pulling everything back inside as she opened her eyes again - locking the thoughts away behind the blue glass.

A deep breath.

“So, they are nomads?” Nesta said through another bite of her delicious saucy bread dish.

Cassian used his own bread to wipe some sauce from her cheek as they walked. It hadn’t quite made it inside her mouth.

She gave him a wan smile and then said “Thanks.”

“You are most welcome,” he popped the bread into his mouth, “I think your red sauce is better than my green one.” he ripped another piece of his bread and dipped it into her dish and ate it. “Oh yeah, much better, definitely getting the red one next time.”

Nesta let out a sigh, “Nomads?” she asked again.

“Yeah, kind of. Not all of them go to every market, each market location has a kind of guardian group that stays all year round to mind the place, and then the rest move around. I’ve never really thought about it, it's just always been this way. But nomads might be the best way to describe it.”

“Does everyone know about the Market?” she looked towards the mainly lesser fae, they were so different from the High Fae, so different from humans, even from the illyrians, it was easy to forget how diverse Prythian was when you were cloistered away.

“Most people in the Night Court do, it is frequented by Lesser Fae more than High Fae but that's part of the reason it's stayed this way. No High Fae to tell them what to do. Plus Velaris has its own market and I'm sure the Court of Nightmares does as well - though I can't say I have been."

"Illyrians prefer trading posts - less illyrians all in one place…you know," he made a face "- because brawls are bad for business.” he rolled his eyes like he didn't believe it and carried on, “Since the Market keeps all his subjects happy Rhys hasn’t really worried about it. He sends Mor, Azriel or I around every so often to make sure everyone is happy, no shady stuff going on, no rebellions, but it runs pretty well without interference.”

“So why are we at this particular one?” she asked.

“Ah, well I was meant to check up on it before it moved on - so yes, an element of work but I could have asked Mor if I didn't want to come. I actually wanted to get you a book, wanted to get you out of that house, spend some time with you...” his voice trailing off near the end.

“You know - I have books.” she said, avoiding the topic of spending time together, there was no need to label what they had and she was just getting used to the idea that he wasn’t always a pain in her ass.

“Yes, But I - wanted to get you a book.”

Nesta looked at Cassian as he finished off his food, using the last of the bread to mop up his green sauce.

“What sort of book?” she asked, trying to think of all the special types of books they might find. Did he actually have something in mind, was he not telling her something.

“A history book or a romance book, or a magic book, or a book about the mountains…. I wasn't really sure, I just knew that this was the best collection of books in the night court except the ones kept by Rhys.” He pulled a cloth out of his satchel and wiped his hands offering it to Nesta to do the same while they continued to watch faeries move about.

“You mentioned there were other things at the Market, different things. Different locations - different merchandise… that’s what you said, so what’s this one's speciality?”

“Did you notice the walls?” he looked up to the caverns through the trees behind them, the light filtering through.

“I did.”

Cassian turned into a storyteller.

“Well, for starters - The Night Court is known for its jewells, this used to be a mining location. You will see, the further back into the caves we get, the more jewels have been left there sticking out of the walls - some too big to remove. The caves go back a long way. The High-Lord at the time was searching for something, no one really knows what, but it led to this incredible network of caves, caves that were made into homes for the workers, who then sold the gems that the High-Lord did not want. The High Lord got bored - they basically ran the operation for years with the explicit understanding that if they found what he wanted they had to give it up. I don’t think anyone even knows what he wanted anymore. So now those caves are filled with books, antiquities, jewellery, and other things that people bring to the market to sell.”

Cassian lowered his voice to a whisper and moved closer.

“The group that stays here - the guardians, they look after the books, but deeper inside, behind the book stalls and the scrolls and their homes are rumours of some hidden caverns with rare magical goods.” Cassian looked around before continuing a little quieter again, “Some say there is a myth that the tunnels were occupied by witches at one point, and that the items in the back are being protected because they belonged to them but I happen to know that the odd item has been sold over the years, so I think the Myth just helps to drive up the prices. Someone very crafty knew how to sell their merchandise.” He let out a big laugh, “These days, you just need to know who to talk to, so you can find the right tunnel.” he shook his head and sat back up, giving Nesta some air.

“Witches?” she asked.

“Yeah, witches - but I’ve been here plenty of times and haven't seen anything too weird. I’m pretty sure they are just a myth.”

“I see.” Nesta flicked her fingernails, trying to decide what she wanted.

To go inside or not.

Confronting fears was a good thing. Maybe it would help her with the nightmares - fewer things to be scared of. Going back into a cave meant she could return to the library in Velaris one day. That she could go underground. That she could roam the House of Wind, her first home in Velaris - without fear.

The witches component was slightly more concerning. She hadn’t told Cassian that her research made it seem likely that the High Lords had been changing the past to suit their purposes. Or at least changing how the past was remembered.

Witches didn’t seem as far fetched to someone who was reborn from the magic of the cauldron into an entirely new form. What was the High lord looking for that it would be buried so deep into a mountain? After speaking to Amren, Nesta knew some myths were just forgotten truths, was this one of them.  

“Look, we don’t have to go in there, I’d like to look at books with you but I’ll understand if you don't want that.” She saw the switch as storyteller Cassian vanished and the commander came out, she did enjoy it when he planned and tried to plot the best way to reach his goal. She could see him ticking things off on his hand as he mentally prepared an argument. “I can draw a quick map. There are multiple exits and they all come out to a wooden path and then lead to the lake and connect to the loop track. So we have a meeting place if we need it. We can meet back here if you get spooked for any reason. There are a few sellers I trust and I'll point them out so if you see trouble you know who to ask for help - if I’m not with you that is. I also have a few additional knives in my bag.”

“I have some knives already.” a long finger poked into his chest.

“Okay, extra knives.” He smiled at her.

“Do you always have to get the last word!”

“Do you?”

“You did it again.”

Cassian laughed. “Look , I have to go check out a few things and make sure certain goods aren’t being sold, I can do it before or after?" he left some space for her to reply but she didn't, she just waited.

"So, do you want to go look at some books with me Nesta Archeron?”

“Very Well.” she said, losing the argument she had stopped fighting long ago, “I do see another problem coming up soon though.”

“Oh?”

“Where are we meant to sleep? I thought there might have been a camp nearby. I didn't realise we might be sleeping under the stars. I don't have fur like those little fluff balls over there.” She moved her hands to wrap around her arms in her own form of a hug protecting herself from the cold.

He stood and offered her his hand, satisfaction in his eyes.

“I always think of something.” he grinned and winked at her.

---

#waitinginthefreezingdark #reneewritesfanfic #reneewrites #nessian #nesta #cassian #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acowar

[divinecuriosity]

Could u do a little Fjord ficlit based on lyrics from the song nightmares & flare guns by Seb Adams 👀

This song is so good! And wow I got inspired for this, I hope it makes a bit of coherent sense! (will go up on my ao3 soon, once I finish my 60th fic/200k word celebratory fic!)

Fjord stops sleeping in his room. The first night back in Xhorhas he spends pacing the house, stopping periodically by Yasha’s door. Waiting, listening, cursing himself and walking away, but his feet always carry him back. He winds up finally throwing himself down in a living room chair and digging his nails into the fabric and watches the stairs and upper landing close, convinced he sees shifting in the shadows. 

“Fjord?” There's a voice from across the room, and Fjord jumps, feeling the fabric of the chair tear a bit under his fingertips. 

“Uh, hey, Caleb.” He squints through the dark. Caleb leans on his doorway, Frumpkin curling past his feet. “How long have you been there?” Fjord asks timidly. Caleb chuckles, uncrossing his arms. 

“A minute or two. What has you spooked?” Caleb pushes off the doorway, following his cat into the room. Fjord stiffens as Frumpkin redirects at a low whistle from Caleb, but allows the cat to hop up into his lap. It’s more of a reflex to sneeze now, Caleb’s been working on making Frumpkin tolerable to Fjord’s allergies. Fjord buries a hand in the nape of the cat’s neck and smiles as he immediately sets to purring and flexing his claws in Fjord’s lap. 

“Uh, nothing. Just can’t sleep.” Fjord shrugs, looking back up to see Caleb wave a hand, lighting his fingertips aflame and scanning a bookshelf by their light. “What about you?” 

“It’s morning, Fjord,” Caleb says as an answer. Fjord looks to the window. 

“Right. No sun.” Fjord groans and rubs his eyes with the hand not petting Frumpkin. 

“You should tell Caduceus if you can’t sleep. He probably has a tea or something.” Caleb says softly. Fjord nods, stifling the urge to yawn. Eventually, Caleb retreats back to his room, book in hand, but Frumpkin stays purring in Fjord’s lap. Even if he wanted to get up now, he stays planted until the girls, Yasha included, even if she’s trailing behind a little, come hurtling down the stairs with screams of requests for breakfast. Frumpkin screeches and leaves claw marks in Fjord’s pants in his effort to get away, and Fjord hops to his feet with a wince. He’ll talk to Caduceus after breakfast, he tells himself. When there’s time. 

The second night is as much of the same, and he doesn’t even get halfway to taking Caduceus’s offer of tea up before Jester gets news of their new task for Essek needing immediate attention and they’re all packing bags again. Fjord pretends his grogginess is due to the midnight hour and goes along, shaking his head at Caleb’s pointed glare before they head off into the night. 

The third night he does sleep, on cold damp earth a mile underground, beaten and bruised, and he dreams. He dreams first of an eye, watching in still waters, but it’s not Uka’toa’s, it’s Yasha’s, first green, then lavender, then flashing between them so fast he covers his face with his hands, but no matter how hard he tries to turn away and shield himself the eyes stay, burned into the backs of his eyelids. He must cry out, because Jester shakes him awake, and forces water down his throat, which feels cracked and dry. He takes the next watch and doesn’t wake Beau for her shift, sitting hunched on a rock and watching the slight shifting of their firelight at the edges of Caleb’s magic hut. 

They surface mid-day, blinking in the sudden light, lost in the wastes of Xhorhas but successful and alive. Caleb’s out of spells to really take them home, but while Caduceus and Jester sit down to try and commune a clue about their location, Fjord lays on his back, feeling the sun beat down on his face. A distant part of his mind wonders if the sunlight will keep him awake. He’s asleep before he can manage to open his mouth to ask. 

Fjord dreams he’s treading water. He keeps feeling something in the depths, slimy skin snaking around his feet, but when he kicks out or dives under he sees nothing but dark waters. He can tell he’s losing strength, that the water that should be cold is warm to his goose-bumped skin, a deadly omen. He blinks and one moment where he saw the reflection of the moon, there is a boat. Sleek black wood, two oars, nothing built for open water, but it’s something. He kicks out for it, raises a hand to try and latch on and is met with a hand in return. Someone far stronger than him hauls him up, and he lies panting on the worn wood, blinking salt out of his eyes to see his savior. 

He scrambles back when he sees Yasha, dark wings outstretched, sword in hand. She’s still reaching down to him, and her expression...gives him pause. She’s crying, but she looks happy, happier than he’s seen her in a long time. She looks a lot like she looked over their breakfast before they left the house when Jester had made a face with berries on her pancake, and Beau had switched one of the eyes with a blueberry to make it Yasha’s face, and they had all laughed. Fjord takes a steadying breath and pulls himself up onto the bench of the small boat. Yasha drops her hand, stares at him for a long moment, and sits as well. 

Fjord doesn’t remember what they talk about, but he remembers that she talks, over the crash of waves and the creak of oars as she rows them- somewhere, he doesn’t know. He wakes up to a dark sky, and his friends sat around a fire a yard off, their bags and bedrolls arranged in a protective circle around him. Fjord rolls on his side and watches as Caleb says something that makes Nott laugh, and turn to Caduceus, who hands her a small bowl. He then turns to Yasha, hands her another. She stands and takes the few strides over to where Fjord lies. He blinks and forces his aching muscles to sit upright. 

“Hey,” He says groggily. 

“You passed out,” Yasha says, helpfully handing him the bowl, thinking better of it as his hands shake, and holding the broth to his lips for him. Fjord takes a large sip before responding. 

“I uh, I’m sorry, about that,” Fjord says, carefully taking the bowl in his own hands and forcing them to be still. 

“The other’s told me about why you talk like that, now,” Yasha says softly. Fjord blinks at her, taking another sip. 

“What did they tell you?” He feels bad for being snarky, but he’s still hazy and hurting, and cautious. Yasha smiles. 

“I understand why you would not want to risk another dream.” She says. Fjord slowly nods. 

“It’s not Uka’toa, right now, at least.” He says after another mouthful. Yasha narrows her eyes, stays silent and waits for him to continue. “My mind’s just not always the most pleasant space.” He says finally. Yasha nods, understanding. 

“I have... experienced that,” Yasha says slowly. Fjord sips, eyes trained on her. “I cannot say what works for me would work for you, but...” Yasha glances back towards the group. “I think we all do something, to fight it off.” 

Fjord squints at her. “How so?” Yasha looks at him, settles down on the ground beside him and points. 

“Beau stretches, every night before bed. When we all shared a room she’d push everything out of the way and do splits, hand-stands, every muscle group, just for a few seconds. Then pass out.” Yasha says, moving her hand a little and continue. “Jester, well, you know, she talks. She tells the Traveller about her day, writes and draws in her journal. I kind of do the same, but all to myself, in my head.” 

“Who do you talk to?” Fjord asks, instantly wincing, unsure he wants to know. Yasha barely meets his eyes. 

“Molly, Zualla.” She says, moving her finger again. “Caleb casts his spells, and Nott counts things. Sometimes just her own fingers, over and over until she’s tired enough to sleep.” 

“Caduceus makes tea.” Fjord adds, starting to get the point. Yasha nods and smiles at him. 

“You just have to find something that works for you,” Yasha says gently. Fjord finishes his soup and sets the bowl down. 

“How?” He asks. Yasha sighs and shrugs. 

“Have you ever had a hobby?” She asks, grimacing at her words. “I mean, something physical, repetitive. When you cast spells you always do the same motions.” Yasha says after a moment of silence. Fjord looks at his hands. 

“Guys on the ship sometimes picked up like knitting or woodworking. I was never that good at it.” He curls his thick fingers into his palms. 

“What about wire?” Yasha asks suddenly. Fjord tilts his head. “Beau has a bunch since she bought all those jewelers supplies for crushing the gems. She was complaining about it all just sitting in her bag.” Yasha turns and reaches around into one of the packs piled up next to them, emerging with a spool of silver wire. 

“Could you make something with that?” She asks. Fjord finds the end of it silently, twisting the cord around his index finger. 

“Maybe?” He says, not sounding very hopeful. 

“Try it, and if it doesn’t work try something else.” Yasha pats him a little awkwardly on the shoulder. 

“I need you to watch my back, Fjord.” She says, even softer now. Fjord blinks. 

“I...can do that.” He says. Yasha drops her hand back to her side. 

“I do not know if I will ever be able to... trust myself, again. So, it feels good, almost, to know you’re watching.” 

Watching. It echoes in Fjord’s brain. 

“I don’t think I’ll have to watch forever.” He says, surprising himself. Yasha looks at him, brow knitted. “I think you’ll get there, I mean. I think you were worth saving.” He tries to smile, motion fumbling a bit around his teeth. Yasha’s eyes widen a bit. 

“Thank you, Fjord.” She says with an exhale. “I hope you’re right.”

#fjord #critical role #fic #cr2 #rory writes #long post #in case the readmore doesnt work #itherienmollymauk

[i-writeandread-blog]

Wonderland - Chapter 11

I’m on a roll tonight... maybe even 3 chapters if we are so lucky. Anyway authors note - going forward for a few chapters there will be talk of drug use and the like. This may be upsetting to some, so please proceed with caution.

I had a really long night at the hospital. I saw Gemma's mom Paula only once and all she could tell me is they were taking Gem to surgery. That was hours ago. I had long forgotten what patience was and paced up and down the hall a few hundred times.

Gemma was a friend whom I had seen battle her share of demons over the past seven years. She came into my life during a time when we were all experimenting with drugs and alcohol. Her situation made her experimentation a little more severe. Her stepfather had been having an affair and the woman he was seeing held her and her mother at gunpoint for reasons none of us will ever know. She had her man, what more could she have wanted?

At any rate Gemma had been through some tough shit and when we had all decided drugs were overrated she had just kept spiraling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole.

We had a strong group of friends that no matter what we always got together every weekend and hung out. Nicky was handsome and the life of the party so when he and Gemma started seeing each other it wasn't a surprise to any of us. I had had a crush on him but he was much more suited for her than me.

Nicky also had his share of trouble. When he was a baby his mother used smuggled drugs in his diaper from South America to North Carolina. One time a boyfriend of hers thought it'd be funny to prick him with a used heroin needle. He was sent to live with his grandparents at the age of three.

When we all stopped chasing highs for more suitable adult activities, Gemma and Nicky just continued doing drugs like it was normal. I had reluctantly left her behind for a life in tinsel town and I was regretting it more and more by the minute.

I stopped pacing and made my way back to the waiting area and saw a text from Jared. I had responded immediately but he hadn't responded back. I was beginning to wonder if he had changed his mind about coming. That would be okay although I really needed a good distraction.  At that moment I heard a cough or rather a clearing of the throat, I looked up to see the man I was so very much in love with.  I darted out of my seat and into his arms.

"Jared, thank God.  I need you to stop me from panicking."

"It's okay, I'm here now.  Shhh."  He said as he rubbed my hair and allowed me to nuzzle into his chest.

He suggested I get something to eat and a cup of coffee, I agreed.  We made our way downstairs to a cafe near the emergency room and he ordered our food.  To my surprise he also ordered a cup of coffee for himself.

"Rough night Jared?"

"Yeah I didn't get any sleep.  I don't imagine you did either?"

"No.  I can't sleep until I know something.  I saw Gem's mom earlier, but no news yet.  My friends Darlene and Heather are on their way.  They needed help with gas money to get here.  Silver Lake is 100 miles away.  The rest of our friends are probably coming too, but I haven't heard... sorry I'm rambling."

"It's okay.  So what exactly happened, do you know?"

I told him that they had been in a car accident but the details were unknown, except that Nicky died on impact. Then I told him about their sordid past and how drugs and alcohol probably played a part.  I weeped into my hands explaining to him how I felt like I could have prevented it if I had only stayed here and tried to convince her to get clean.

"Ali, there's no way to know that and besides, you're not they're keeper.  I had to learn that a long time ago with Shannon.  They seek help when they're ready.  Forcing them into sobriety only makes them angry and less likely to be successful."

He was right.  I had this mother hen persona and if I had inserted myself I may have pushed her away.  I finished my sandwich after he insisted I eat every bite and we started making our way back to the waiting area.  A few people stopped and stared at Jared while we waited for the elevators, but just as he was about to ask them for privacy or whatever else would be appropriate the doors opened.  Paula was inside.

"There you are dear!" Paula said as she grabbed my arm and tugged me forward.

"Is she out of surgery Mama Tate?"

"She is, the nurse came to tell me 5 minutes ago. She said the doctor would be out soon to let us know how it went.  I couldn't hear the news if it were bad, by myself."  She said as she looked Jared up and down and smiled in recognition.

"That's that actor guy... ya know the one, right. Am I right?" She said in a whisper.

"Yeah I think so Mama Tate.  You should ask for his autograph." I smirked and whispered back.

I noticed Jareds lips form a small smile, and he extended his hand to her.

"Hi, Mrs. Tate, I'm Jared Leto. Nice to meet you."

"What are you doing here at Duke Hospital?"

"Mama Tate, he's with me."

Her eyes got big as saucers and she shook her head.

"This is what you brought back from Hollywood?  I figured I'd get a snow globe or a shot glass.  But he'll do." She said jokingly.

She was in good spirits knowing her daughter made it through surgery and I was hoping that the news wouldn't be bad. If it were I know we'd both be inconsolable.

The doors to the elevator opened on the 5th floor and we stepped out into the unknown. Would Gemma be in a coma? Would she be a vegetable as they say? Would she know who we were? Or would she be bright eyed and bushy tailed awaiting us to see her?

"Oh no!"

"What is it dear?" Paula asked, as Jared became stiff next to me.

"Does... does... she..." I couldn't get the words out.

"I'm not sure, if she knows about Nicky. I'd imagine not." Paula hugged me and we both broke down in a fit of tears.

Poor Jared didn't know what to do. He just leaned against the wall while we had our moment of grieving. No matter what the drugs had turned them into, they were still two very beautiful souls just trying to find their way. They deserved a chance at happiness. Marriage, babies, growing old together. These are things Nicky will never know and it was overwhelming to acknowledge that.

I reached out for Jared's hand which he immediately responded by grabbing mine with a gentle squeeze. The electricity was still there every time I touched him and I wondered if it would ever go away. The minute he entwined our fingers together I knew it was going to be okay. As long as I had him there with me.

"Mama Tate, can I have a minute with Jared, if you don't mind?" She nodded and stepped away.

"Jared, I don't understand us. We have only..."

"Don't worry about that right now."

"No let me finish... just listen, please. I know how I feel about you. I expressed it back at Camp a couple of weeks ago. I've had years of admiration for you. Years of watching your movies, years of being a devoted Echelon. As time went on I actually fell in love with you. I knew you would be exactly who I thought you were when I would fantasize about you, but what I can't wrap my brain around is how you came into my life and so quickly every dream I had ever had would start to be realized. It's beyond too good to be true. It's almost as if this is just a dream, albeit one ripe with its share of nightmare. Anyway, the point is... you don't have to be here. I can't be the only girl you've had a connection with in the last 17 years, but I can't imagine you would have dropped everything to be with them during a time like this. As much as I do need you, I wonder if I won't end up hurt here. Your life is so full and when exactly will the ball drop and you realize this isn't the life you desire?”

Jared listened as I had asked and then carefully and calculatingly he responded, "Ali, I told you how I'm drawn to you. I don't understand it myself, but what I do know is that we are like magnets. I'm drawn to you just as you are to me. When I saw you in June, then again in August, I watched you. The way you would run your fingers through your hair, or smile at something someone was saying. I saw you that night you took a walk with one of your friends all by yourselves on the trail. It was funny watching the two of you get spooked at the deer running in the woods. I wanted to make my presence known but you weren't alone and it wasn't the right time. At first I thought it was because you were strikingly beautiful and we all know I'm a horny son of a bitch, but I couldn't stop looking for you in the crowds. I knew I needed to know why. The reason Ali, I truly think is that we are meant to be exactly here in this moment together. So what if it's happening fast? So what if people don't understand? Hell, so what if we don't understand? Let's just see how this plays out? Because I may not have dropped my life for others, but Ali, you're not other girls. Okay?"

I closed my eyes and listened to his every word. When he was done, I felt his lips on mine. My eyes opened wide as I looked around to see if there was anyone there watching us.

"Jared, what if people see you here? I mean they already have. Don't lie and say you don't care."

"Ali, I really really don't care. I have nothing to hide. Do you? Are you ashamed of me Alice LeFaye Foster?" He laughed.

"HOW do you know my middle name, Jared?"

"I saw it on the hospital papers."

"This is so embarrassing!"

"Not really, I think it's beautiful. What you should be embarrassed of is that your initials spell Alf. Maybe you're an alien?"

We both were laughing hard and forgot for a moment where we were. It was blissful to have this time with him. Reality came back when we noticed the doctor come out into the hall.

We walked a little closer to Paula but stayed back a few feet.  The doctor began explaining the severity of Gemma's wounds and I knew Paula wanted me closer.  She wrapped her arms around mine tightly and we listened.

"Gemma suffered a head wound and has a concussion.  When she was brought in our main concern was internal bleeding and the head wound.  We opened her up and it was clear that her spleen would need to be removed.  We scanned her brain and noticed nothing of concern.  Her head was sutured.  She has a broken arm, a shattered pelvis, and a broken ankle.  We had to continue surgically to set her bones and are hoping they will heal without the need for additional surgeries.  Unfortunately we can't tell how long it will be before she is able to walk again.  We are again hopeful she will recover and be on her feet very soon.  I have to tell you Mrs. Tate, an accident as badly as the one she was in, well she's very very lucky.  You should be proud of how strong she is.  She's a fighter."

All three of us blew out the air we were holding.  This was good news.  The doctor told Paula she would be able to see her in a few hours, but only family at this time.  He also told us that she wasn't aware of Nicky's death and that none of us should tell her until she was released which could be weeks.  We all agreed.

Darlene and Heather showed up about ten minutes later and texted to find out where I was.  Jared wanted to meet them, but I wasn't ready to share him with anyone else.  He stepped away to book us a hotel room for the night.  In sweet Jared fashion he booked them a room too.  I explained Gemma's situation and we all agreed to leave the hospital for the night.  Heather and Darlene insisted I ride with them to the Hilton Garden Inn.  I felt bad for Jared because he was left to take a cab, but if he only knew the kind of hell these two would give me if they saw him.  It was better he be kept a secret a little while longer.

As soon as we checked in, I made my escape with the excuse of being extremely tired, which I was.  I entered the room and was immediately attacked by Jared.

@burritoverload @branded-with-a-j @msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli @llfd1977 @snewsome756 @lolainblue @lady-grinning-soul-k @letojokerownsme

#thirty seconds to mars #jared leto #30 seconds to mars #jaredandali #jared leto fic #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fiction #jared leto fan fiction #jared leto fanfics #wonderland chapter 11

[abakersquest]

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – ONE WITH THE FLOCK

Orni’Hu, known as ‘the drifting isle,’ is a place unto itself. It is difficult to reach and said to have sailed away from the skies of Insicai when the world was young. As there is no living record of this event, the origins of this floating nation are shrouded by the cloak of time and legend. Now, it flies in the air above the northwestern seas, a landmass made of a strange mineral that creates a curtain of serene white cloud around itself.

Gan, a kestrel Orni’Hulan, is the youngest of his flock; a scout flyer that searches constantly for farmable topsoil, which is a rare commodity to those living in the outer reaches of Orni’Hu; the Distant Drifts. As soil here can quickly become infertile, flocks often wander the cloudy rim for new places to settle for as long as they can. That task, however, was the furthest thing from his mind as he saw what looked like a metal castle, falling from the sky.

He watched parts of it explode into a brilliant light show before something that looked like a very misshapen egg dropped out from one side. It turned in the air like an unprepared fledgling just before it flew exactly like metal shouldn’t. His sharp eyes followed the bizarrely now winged thing as it soared heedlessly away from the plummeting fortress that promptly crashed into the sea below.

Now, there may very well be people who would see such a sight and ignore the approaching mystery entirely. Those people aren’t often recalled in history and as such are themselves quite legendary in their ability to ignore amazing events. Gan was absolutely not one of those people.

With a fire of curiosity blazing in his heart, he beat his wings and propelled himself toward the exciting oddity. He flew for all he was worth as the wind carelessly tossed the strange flyer about, its silvery hide glinting in the late day sun as he came closer and closer to it.  He could see now that part of it was made from clear glass and, much to his surprise, there was a person inside.

Even more of a surprise, he was a knight.

And most surprising of all, he was very clearly unconscious.

Gan had seen a few Orni’Hulans pass out mid-flight before, and common sense dictated that was an abysmal state to be in when you were airborne. It wasn’t much of a leap to think; even someone who had no business flying in the first place, would need the same kind of help. He glided closer, dodging the bobbing wings that the winds jerked about. He hooked his toes onto their leading edges, careful of his talons. He pulled gently, guiding the errant object into a slow spiraling decent. On a second circuit an air pocket caused them both to suddenly drop, Gan’s talons tearing some off the material on the left wing, ruining the strange object’s balance and sending it into a roll that knocked him away.

Shaking off the blow as fast as he could, he saw the knight’s flying container pitch down and race toward a deadly impact. The brave kestrel tucked his wings in and dove to close the gap; he slowly fanned them out to match the container’s spin and press his back against the crashing thing. Now acting as a makeshift support, he strained against it, loudly demanding it work with him until it finally began to change its course. With a final beat of his wings to peel off, he barreled away just as the oddity came down close enough to skid on the cloud coated ground, coming to a stop in a self dug misty trench.

With no time to catch his breath, Gan flapped his way over to the still buzzing mystery object, grateful to see it’d landed belly down. With some doing he managed to open the curious thing and get a clean view at last at the knight within. His remaining armor was damaged, fur marred by soot and light charring, and his expression was one of exhaustion and pain. Resting alongside him, partially embedded into the interior of the container, was a beautiful sword with a bright red gem in its star shaped hilt. Gan’s look of concern was quickly replaced by determination, he quietly proclaimed to the sleeping soldier, “don’t you worry now, sir knight. I’ll get you to some help. Let’s start by getting that sword tucked away all proper.”

So it’s clear, Gan, like all Orni’Hulans, possessed strength enough to carry twice their weight. It allowed them to carry several of their young at a time as well as whatever they wished to carry on their backs. So while quite young, Gan was certainly much stronger than his lithe frame would suggest. Bearing that in mind, it was certainly a blow to his confidence when the sword refused to budge. With a frustrated huff he abandoned that effort, allowing brain to intercede over brawn. The partially armored Animani knight was weighty to be sure, but Gan managed to set him outside gently enough. That done, he carefully flapped his wings, stirring the constant cloud layer up, letting it pool over the container and hopefully hiding it until the knight could retrieve it and his sword later.

Gan fanned his wings out to catch some wind and rise just high enough off the ground so as to gently grab the unconscious knight with his toes. Satisfied with his grip, the kestrel flew close to the ground and slowly, carrying his passenger with great care.

As the sun continued on its way across the sky, Gan flew over a waiting lookout a mile out from where his flock had been settled for a few months. The lookout blew his horn to signal the kestrel’s return and ahead, amidst a collection of yurts, several children scampered out to see who had returned.

“Look it’s Gan!” one cried out.

“What’s that he’s carrying?” asked another.

“Doesn’t have wings, and I think that’s a tail!”

“It’s got really big feet!”

Gan flew closer set his living cargo down gently near one of the yurts and called out, “Kora! Kora I need your help out here!”

From inside, a taller yet similar looking female kestrel emerged with a slightly annoyed expression on her face. “Gan, don’t shout. I’m certain whatever it is- Oh!” She rushed to the side of the fitful Animani. “Is… Is this…”

“I know, looks exactly like the statue doesn’t he? So he must be a knight!”

Another horn blast rung out, much more shrill than the last. It was the call to action against an oncoming danger. Without pause Gan reached behind himself and unsheathed his twin kukri knives and was about to run out to face the threat when whatever it was rushed into view, kicking up clouds as it spun through the air, finally embedding itself a few feet from where Gan stood. The clouds eventually settled and revealed the knight’s sword, apparently having followed them both to the flock’s settlement.

Gan sighed with relief before smiling. “I guess you felt lonely, huh? No worries, we’ll take good care of your master!”

Kora looked at the sword, half expecting it to respond before she realized how absolutely ridiculous that thought truly was. “What craziness have you brought home with you now, little brother?”

A giddy energy overtook Gan as he hopped in place. “A knight with a magic sword! Just like in the story books!”

“Stop being so excited! Help me get him inside. He’ll get sick if we just leave him out here on the ground.”

Gan nodded and took hold of the knight’s feet, lifting him up. As they slowly made their way into the yurt, the sword dragged itself a little closer, parting the ground it rested in easily, which of course spooked the onlookers.

Seeing as how said onlookers were the entire flock, it made for quite the din of surprise.

---

The first few minutes were an absolute mess of indiscriminate sensations. Wally may as well have been trying to perceive the world with his head inside a bucket someone was hitting with a large serving spoon. He reached up to rub his eyes, his right arm bare of any clothing or armor, save his knoka nut bracelet.

His left arm was also bare.

In that instant, Wally felt a fear that was stronger than any other before. He’d faced monsters and potentially painful death and yet this moment was the one most filled with dread. Only daring to look with one eye, he slowly lifted the heavy blankets and saw that, if not for some funny smelling bandages tied around his chest, he was naked as the day he was born. He quickly grabbed up the blankets to hold them tighter, as if that somehow made the fact a stranger had undressed him less obvious or embarrassing. He quickly took in his surroundings to seek out any sign of his belongings and an exit.

His eyes scanned across a beautifully ornate carpet that covered the floor of what he quickly realized was a large tent. He couldn’t tell what the material stretched over the light wooden frame was, just that it was thin but sturdy, letting sunlight filter through but resisting what sounded like a strong wind.

At the center, boiling over a well used brazier, was a slightly ornate cast-iron pot filled with an unrecognizable substance. It was suspended over the heat source by a strong chord that hung from the top of the tent. Wally inhaled reflexively; it smelled like a kind of tea, but not one he’d ever smelled before.

Unable to see much else while lying down, Wally forced the almost instinctual demand for modesty to the back of his mind and tried to sit up. However, his chest quite adamantly demanded he reconsider by using very painful coercion.

With a grunt, he collapsed back into the bedding, slowly becoming aware of how much pain he was actually in. Even the tips of his ears felt sore as he tried to relax into the pillow. Add to that the feeling of an empty belly and lungs trying to make do with less air. He couldn’t tell if that meant something about where he was, or if his chest bandaging kept him from breathing right. When he tried to speak, he found he'd become quite fluent in the language of partly clogged drains. He probably hadn't had anything to drink for a while, and assumed that's what the tea was for.

With no way to call for attention and unable to sit up on his own, Wally had no choice but to stare up at the fabric roofing and count the knots that tied it to the frame. Eventually, voices filtered in from outside.

"So no one's been able to move it at all?" The voice was deep, mature sounding.

"Well look at it, it's obviously magic. That’s how it came to the knight's side all on its own." This voice sounded much younger.

"Bet I could move it." The deep voice bragged.

"Yeah, so did everyone else that came here to try." The younger voice replied.

"Think if I managed it, they'd make me their king?" If a smirk had a sound to it, Wally could hear it now.

"Why’s everybody saying that? Who ever heard of becoming a king because you could pull a sword out of something?" The younger voice was somewhat flustered.

After a few moments of quiet, there were several grunts of effort and various other noises best not used in public, followed by a weighty thud.

"Looks like we'll cancel that coronation then?" The young voice joked.

"Gan!" This third voice was female, and sounded like it fell in the mean ages of the other two. "You're supposed to be sending the others away, not gabbing like a fledgling!"

"Tell him that!" The young voice replied. "Booru and the others kept trying to pull the sword out even after I told them not to."

"Honestly Booru, like you don't have anything better to do." She was someone’s older sibling, he knew that tone immediately.

Wally couldn’t move his head enough to see, but it sounded like one of them pushed through the tent’s opening. He turned his head and saw it was an Orni’Hulan, dressed in what looked to him like an ornate tapestry, stitched in such a way it sat comfortably on a body. The middle was tied with a bright red sash that bore an ornate bow on the back. It seemed similar, yet far more brilliant than anything he’d ever seen an Orni’Hulan wearing before, but still, it made him wonder if they minded having to go sleeveless to keep the long feathers of their wings free. His eyes then moved over to their long earth brown plumage was speckled in a natural pattern of black diamonds, which made the ornate clothing a stark contrast of patterns and colors that came together quite nicely in his opinion. His mother being a seamstress, he surmised he must’ve picked some sense of fashion aesthetic along the way.

As the Orni’Hulan turned his way, Wally managed the most polite smile he could and waved a small hello.

“Oh! You’re awake!” He recognized the voice; it was the girl who interrupted the two outside. “Gan! Go get some food! He hasn’t eaten in the last three days!”

A throat shaking squawk was all Wally could manage at the fact he’d been unconscious for three days.

“Oh, oh I’m so sorry I should’ve…” She shook her head. “No! No sense dwelling on it! It happened and now we all have to deal with it. Now, please drink this, it’ll help your throat and make eating easier.” She dipped a small ceramic bowl into the thing Wally still considered some manner of tea before coming closer and tucking a hand under his head to help him sit up enough to drink.

Wally reflexively held the blanket tighter to his chest.

A small and slightly nervous laugh came up from her. “A… Little late for that… Sorry.” She said with a tinge of embarrassment in her voice, and an apologetic smile to punctuate it.

Wally wasn’t sure if the following whimper was from his shattered modesty, or possibly shattered ribs.

“Besides that, I have to check your bandages anyway. You had quite the bruise on your chest and some minor burns all over.” She held the bowl to Wally’s lips. “Now, let’s drink, mm?”

It was cooler than Wally would’ve thought anything that’d just finished boiling should be. Maybe it was some kind of mint? He couldn’t tell, nor did he care in this moment. The feeling of anything in his belly and the erasure of dryness in his throat was all he could think of. Even the pain in his chest ebbed away with every swallow.

“There we are,” she said as the bowl emptied. “We were starting to get worried you’d die in your sleep you know.”

“Thank you.” Wally managed to wheeze out, his throat still recuperating.

She set the bowl down and smiled warmly. “And that makes it all worth it.”

There was the sound of frustrated effort at the tarp covering the tent’s entrance. Tail feathers and a triumphant laugh were the first thing through as a small Orni’Hu made his way inside with a large tray. Wally knew the various items on it were food, mostly from context. There were a host of things he didn’t recognize at all.

The female Orni’Hulan rose to her feet quickly to aid the smaller male. “Gan! That’s ridiculous! He’s not going to eat all that!”

“That’s not my fault, Kora! Everybody wanted to give him something when I was on my way back.” He wobbled slightly as the tray was unbalanced, finally managing to set it down on a table near the entrance. “Besides, we don’t know how much he eats. Maybe knights eat more than regular folk!”

Kora sighed and shook her head before turning back to Wally. “Please, don’t feel obligated to eat all that. The flock means well, but it’d be absurd to expect that of you.”

Wally grunted and forced himself to sit up. “Well…” He croaked, coughing once or twice to try and clear his throat. “I think… I’m finally used to absurd expectations...”

She looked at him curiously, while Gan couldn’t possibly look more excited as he made his way over to Wally. “So what’s your name? Where’re you from? Did you really knock that flying castle out of the sky? Is your sword magic?!”

Kora struck the top of Gan’s with the edge of her hand. “Don’t be so rude!” She turned back to Wally. “Please forgive my little brother; he’s always been so excitable. He doesn’t mean to offend you, Sir… Oh, oh my I really don’t know your name and here I am calling Gan rude.”

“Wally. Wally B. Walter.” Wally paused and waited for the inevitable laughter or confusion that always came with the name, but found himself pleasantly surprised when there wasn’t any.

“I am Kora Noi'Goa and this is my brother, Gan. So, Sir Wally, how did you come to be on the Distant Drifts and…Did you really have anything to do with all those explosions and such we heard?”

“He came flying out of it in a big metal thing! Of course he does!”

Kora shot a look at him that would’ve pierced a brick wall.

Gan simply smiled at Wally.

Wally took a deep breath and began to explain, as concisely as he could, the events that brought him this far. The Stellar Flare’s decent into his life, the need to return it to its former strength, the threat facing Mondia, and the destruction of the Aegis. All the while Gan listened and watched in absolute rapt attention, as Kora brought the tray of food over to the bed, letting it rest across the frame as she tended to the bandages around Wally’s chest. Her hands clearly practiced as she did both without looking away from the wallaby’s effort in exposition.

Once the story had concluded, Gan instantly turned to Kora and loudly proclaimed. “We should take him to He’Lain Outpost! It’d be the first place his friends would come looking and he’d be able to find someone who knows about Crumb Mountain!”

Kora’s feathers ruffled as she brow beat her little brother. “What? No! First of all, he said ‘Krust’ Mountain. Second, if anyone should take him it should be father. Don’t get ahead of yourself thinking just because you’re part of the scouting parties, you can go and be a part of something far more dangerous.”

Gan crossed his wings and puffed out his feathers in an effort to strengthen his argument. “We saved him! It’s our responsibility! That’s always been our tradition, right?”

Wally knew better than to interrupt arguing siblings so he passed the time by turning to the food tray. He’d always been fascinated by the fact Orni’Hulans never used utensils to eat. But then, he always assumed the somewhat scaly nature of the hands at the end of their long wings and the talons thereupon made such tools a pointless obstacle. It also made their food something truly tactile, intended from second one to be handled first and eaten second.

He carefully picked up something that was obviously a snail shell and studied it for a few seconds; the shell itself was cooked, possibly braised. He knew snails were mostly fluid, so he wondered how much of it was left to actually eat after being cooked. Without looking away from her ongoing argument, Kora took the shell from Wally’s hands, hooked the talons on her thumbs into the shell’s opening and split it in half easily before handing it back to Wally. Much to his surprise as he ate the steamy contents, Snails of the region seemed to be more like crabs or lobsters, with a sweet and partly salty taste.

He knew he had to make some note of that for later, and then remembered he had no idea where his belongings even were. Slowly he scanned the room, spotting his bag tucked beside a small dresser, along with the remains of his armor. As he was lamenting the lost of fine craftsman ship, he saw something odd at the top of his bag. He focused on it intently and saw an unmistakable glow.

“Oh! The Farsight Stone!” Wally tried to shout, producing instead a loud sort of squawk.

Gan and Kora broke off their argument and looked to Wally as he pointed at his bag. “In there, it’s a crystal; it should be glowing right now!”

Gan easily leapt the distance and opened the bag pulling out the small gleaming crystal. “Woooow…”

“Now, spin the sharper end on the floor.”

“Like a top?”

Wally nodded. “Then step back.”

Gan did as he told with the biggest smile his beak could manage, trying and terribly failing to not make tiny sounds of excitement as the stone emitted its mystical light and the image of Cinera arose.

“You there!” She shouted angrily at Gan. “Where did you find this stone?!”

“I’m over here Madam Seer,” Wally called out.

Cinera turned; or rather the projected image seemed to rotate. Catching sight of him, she visibly relaxed and sighed with relief.

“Sorry…” Wally tried to sit a little straighter, only to have his chest argue once more and force him to slump back with a grunt. “I’ve apparently been unconscious the last few days; I’m guessing everyone’s been worried?”

“Some more than others, I don’t envy the harsh greeting Rozzi’s going to give you.” Cinera’s image leaned over slightly to get a better look at Wally. “Especially if she hears you’re naked in front of some other girl.”

Wally went a rigid as a fence post and quickly bundled himself in bedding.

“Told you you shouldn’t have done that,” Gan teased.

Feathers almost popped off of the top of Kora’s head as she shouted in embarrassment. “I-I HAD TO SEE IF HE HAD ANY OTHER INJURIES! IT WAS PURELY AN EXAMINATION!”

“Oh.” Cinera said, before she smiled kindly at the panicked kestrel girl. “Well in that case, looks like you missed your chance to be a little more handsy.”

“W-WHAT?!”

Wally could only sigh as Cinera almost cackled.

“I guess you weren’t too worried about me, then?” Wally mumbled once she’d settled.

Cinera idly shifted her staff back and forth. “Well the sky didn’t turn pitch black and the world didn’t crack in half. So I assumed you were probably still alive. I’ll let the others know where to find you.”

“I’ll be on my way to a place called He’Lain Outpost as soon as I can.”

“Got it, oh and Wally?”

“Yes?”

“You should definitely put some pants on before trying to save the world.”

---

In time Wally was able convince Kora he was well enough to make the journey. However, on her strict orders, he had to wear something other than the clothes he had in his bag. Weather in Orni’Hu could change dramatically from one step to the next, so it was best to always wear something warm, water resistant, and easily spotted through cloud cover. The Orni’Hulan deel he now wore was red with a gold trim, some additional fabric was quickly stitched together to make up for the lack of sleeves. Once fully dressed and with some notes from the Orni’Hulan seamstress to take back to his mother, Wally walked the length of the small encampment to a larger tent guarded by a kestrel twice the size of any of the others.

He looked over Wally’s shoulder and saw the Flare resting there. “So… Only you can lift is then?”

Wally instantly recognized the voice of Booru from earlier; he smiled then bowed his head as if to a royal. “Sorry about that, your majesty.”

Booru ruffled his feather in frustration, but still stood aside so Wally could pass.

Inside, behind a table covered in charts and maps, was the patriarch of the flock, Khan Noi’Goa. Everyone in the camp, by marriage or blood, was his son, daughter, niece, nephew, brother, and sister. As he approached, Wally was surprised to see a warm fatherly smile play across Khan’s beak.

“Ah, good to see you on your feet, Sir… Wally, is it?”

He nodded. “I see word gets around here as fast as anywhere else.”

“Yes, especially when your youngest son flies as fast as lightning and can’t keep his excitement to himself.”

“He told me how he found me earlier, I’m very grateful to him. In fact you’ve all been so gracious; I don’t know how to repay you for all your kindness.”

“Think nothing of it. But, would you mind terribly doing me a favor?”

“Yes?”

“Take Gan with you.”

Wally tilted his head in confusion, Khan answering his question before he could ask it.

“If you left without him, he’d just follow in secret. Frankly, I think a little adventure will finally settle that wild heart of his.”

“No offence, sir. But it’s actually quite unsafe traveling with me anywhere.”

“You need a guide to reach the outpost. Gan knows the skies between here and there better than he does his own tail feathers. Despite his youth he’s a strong and crafty flyer and a braver soul than most his age.” Wally saw the broad shoulders of the chief slump ever so slightly with the unseen weight of memory. “Besides, if I’m being honest, you’d be doing us all a favor. He’s far too energetic for his own good sometimes. They say it takes a village to raise a child? We’ve needed at least two more to keep him flying level.”

Wally rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. “Just to the Outpost, then he comes right back, is that alright?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then we have a deal.” Wally extended his hand.

Khan looked at it curiously.

“Oh! Um… In Animana it’s how we make promises, we shake hands.”

Khan raised one hand, looked at it and then to Wally. “How much do you shake them?”

Wally said nothing; in fact he bit his tongue to keep from saying anything. He simply held up his other hand and gave a very basic display by shaking hands with himself. When Khan promptly mimicked the gesture, Wally simply put on his best shop smile and said, “thank you for your help.”

As he stepped out he almost bumped into Gan who, judging by his overjoyed expression, had eavesdropped on the entire conversation.

“So! He’Lain Outpost is that way.” Wally looked where the young Orni’Hulan pointed and saw what looked to him like nothing but a cloudy sky. “It’s where mostly everyone who comes to Orni’Hu goes first, it’s got a machine that can pick up and put down boats from the ocean. It kinda looks like a big fancy bucket to me though.”

Wally, looking to give the young kestrel some time to think, spoke quickly. “You should probably pack some supplies for the trip.”

Gan hopped in place, turning so Wally could see the pack on his back.

“…Right.” Wally gently turned him around and put his hands on his shoulders to hold his attention. “Now listen Gan, this is going to be dangerous. Regardless of the natural hazards on the way, at any point Kota’s forces could attack me. So, no matter what happens, you do as I say to the letter. Is that clear?”

Gan gasped and covered his beak with his hands before he dared to whisper, “Does… Does that make me your squire?”

“Well,” Wally paused to consider the question. “I suppose technically-”

With a cheer, Gan shot up into the air, laughing joyously as he drifted back down to the ground next to Wally offering some manner of salute across his chest. “I won’t let you down, Sir Wally!”

Wally certainly didn’t want to damper the young boy’s sprits. So he smiled earnestly and nodded. “Lead the way, Squire Gan.”

With an excited hop or two, Gan started on down toward the cloudy stretches. “Stay close, Sir Wally, it can be tricky getting around on foot in Orni’Hu, the clouds can cover up holes, and the winds can suddenly pick up and knock most people over if they aren’t ready. But it’s nothing we can’t handle!”

Wally nodded, taking in the sight of the floating nation’s, for lack of a better word, landscape. It truly appeared to be a broad open plain made of clouds with a few hills dotting the space visible. He could feel the cold ground beneath his feet, so there was something solid ahead, but he wouldn’t be able to tell on his own where it was safe to put his feet. He tried to cross his arms across his chest to warm himself against the chill, but the still lingering ache there made him think twice. As the walked forward amidst admittedly pleasant if chilly weather Wally turned to Gan and asked, “How did you all know I was a knight?”

Gan looked confused for a moment, but the happy smile hardly left his beak. “Well don’t all knights look like you?”

Wally shook his head, “There are actually very few wallabies like me in the world nowadays.”

“Oh… Then maybe it’s not a coincidence that you look almost exactly like the knight who saved Orni’Hu from Kota’s army.”

Wally stopped walking altogether and simply stared at the Orni’Hulan standing before him. There were approximately nine hundred and seventy three words racing to be the first said, but half tripped at the starting line, the others quit about half way, and the only one to make it the whole distance was, “What?”

<[Chapter 27]–[Index]–[Chapter 29]>

#A Baker's Quest #writing