#should i resolve it in the next part or drag it out an extra chapter and write out some more of eddie's dream memories???

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)

#giving steve mental breakdowns is my favorite hobby actually can you tell #one or two more parts i think i can't decide #should i resolve it in the next part or drag it out an extra chapter and write out some more of eddie's dream memories??? #steddie #steddie angst #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.191 thoughts

[FOUR YEARS AND AN ANIME!!!]

(Contents: Celebration, predictions)

WE DID IT, EVERYONE!!! As of this week's chapter, Undead Unluck has officially been running for four whole years!!!

I don't recall, though, did UU take an extra week off at some point? It should be at 192...Ah well, it's not super important! We've officially hit the goal I've been asking for since day one, and I'm over the moon about it! The hashtag is no longer a wish for the future, but a celebration of success!

At the time, I did expect that it would end around now rather than merely approaching the final phase, but hell, I'm not complaining! I don't know if I necessarily want UU to hit the eight-year mark, it might start to feel like it's dragging by that point, but I also can't really imagine it doing that anyway

If we assume that we have five arcs left before Ragnarok (Top, Tatiana, Kururu, Backs, Ruin) and we generously assume that each is 10 chapters (only Rip and Latla's arc has lasted more than 10 since the loop), we should have at most another year until the final battle, though it likely won't even take that long since most of these recruitment arcs are more like 3-5 chapters per recruit. From there, the previous Ragnarok arc was about 40 chapters, so we'll overestimate again that the next one will last a full year

In other words, depending on how much Tozuka decides to take his time, I think we should be seeing UU running until June 2025 or January 2026! It's a bit sad to see the writing on the wall like that, but as far as I'm concerned, we're playing with house money right now! I'm glad that my favorite series turned out to be such a hit, and that it should get to resolve itself as it pleases! So few series get to go out on their own terms, I can't be upset when one of my favorites becomes one of the lucky ones!

Onto the chapter itself, this was such a cool fight! Andy holding off all ten of the Superior Rules by himself for three minutes is such a badass display of how far he's come, and shows us some cool ways he can use his soul techniques! We've heard of him using his soul to move his body before, using it to overcome Nico's copy of Unmove, but seeing him actively replacing his lost body parts with his soul?? Now that's sick!

100-Twist Vortex Bullet, Soul Vulcan, Soul Road...it's all derived from what we've seen, but all on a whole new level! Even the soul chains are taken straight from his fight with Ghost. It's like a perfect showcase of how far Andy's come in the last four years of serialization!

BUT! For how strong he is now, for how much stronger he apparently is than the rest of the team, he was only able to hold off the Superior Rules for three minutes. In other words, while you might think he's become an invincible one-man army that could do everything on his own, you would be absolutely wrong!!! He had to let the two weakest Superiors go to temporarily match #1 (who we can reasonably assume is UMA Soul), so while we can assume he'd be capable of facing Soul one-on-one, we also have to assume that Andy is still nowhere near Sun's level. It took everyone together to hold off Sun for 11 minutes, including Rebellion!Victor, and at least half of them died in the process. Andy, as he is now, could only hold off all ten Superiors for three; if he'd had to hold on for 11, they probably would have all escaped, and since we can assume that all ten together don't measure up to SUN, we can conclude that Andy is not so strong that he could solo Sun

Andy will be a tremendous asset to the final battle, but he will not be the single deciding factor. To beat Sun, it won't be enough to simply have everyone together, everyone will need to raise their level to be capable of at least soloing a Superior Rule like Andy did to Sick. In other words, Andy's display of power here isn't merely a way to tell us how strong Andy is now, but telegraphing how strong EVERYONE is going to be by the end!!! Even if they never quite make it to Andy's level, we can expect that our team is going to be absolutely made of monsters, and I! Can't! Wait!!!

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

[psylunari]

Comments: thoughts, types, how-tos, and etiquette (part 2 of 4)

This is better read sequentially, but you can skip to any section. They are as numbered:

1) The basics

2) Thoughts on comment culture

3) Types of comments

4) Writing cohesive and coherent comments

5) Etiquette

6) Technical questions

7) Short-answer questions

8) Long-answer questions

Part 1: Sections 1 and 2.

Part 2: Sections 3 and 4 (you are here).

Part 3: Sections 5 and 6.

Part 4: Sections 7 and 8.

PDF version here, containing the whole thing. It has a table of contents and cute formatting.

♥ 3: Types of comments ♥

Comments are detailed below with a description and examples. I wrote all the examples. They might be based on comments I’ve seen, but aren’t real ones left by readers.

3.1 Emojis, keysmashes, second kudos, and not-so-verbal comments

Usually short. Might be hard to make heads or tails of them. If it’s all emojis/kaomojis, the comment is likely trying to express the reader’s emotions. The keysmash is internet “slang” for speechless or at a loss for words, but strong feelings about the thing, often positive. Second kudos are also emojis, but heart emojis, imitating the kudos/favorite button.

Example(s):

“😭😭😭😭😭😭” “ヽ(♡‿♡)ノ” “skjhgsdkfljgsdlkgfsjdh” “❤️” “!!!?????!!!!??????”

3.2 Short positive comments

One or two sentences expressing appreciation about the whole fic or some aspect of it.

Example(s):

“Loved it, thanks for sharing!” “This chapter is everything. Good to see this pairing more often in the fandom.”

3.3 Medium and long positive comments

Longer than the previous ones. Might delve into detailed opinions, quote the fic back to the author, and contain a deeper analysis of something.

Example(s):

“I’ve been reading this fic since day one. The writing is stellar and the characterization is on point. It’s good to see things getting finally resolved. Those two deserve peace and quiet in each other’s arms, after all.” “Ok, so it’s 3 am and I totally should be sleeping. My finals start tomorrow, and I was scribbling a few notes for an assignment, but I couldn’t resist this update. 5k words? How come?? The plot twist was SOMETHING ELSE. I don’t wanna spoil the other readers who might see this, so take my word for it and GO READ. When we thought we were done getting into her flashbacks, we get THAT. OH MY GOD. What will be of me until the next update? (probably a sleepless mess because broke college student juggling two jobs) LOL see you anytime, your writing is a blessing to this world.”

3.4 Constructive criticism (concrit)

Concrit points out flaws in whatever the reader can find them, and provides ways to improve the fic. Ideally, it’s a polite, considerate comment, but might not be.

Example(s):

“While I love the premise, worldbuilding, and first act, I think it’s a bit dragged out from chapter 5 onwards. Stories like yours could use faster pacing and less domesticity. If you trim the less relevant scenes and turn them into extras (maybe posted as one-shots in a series), it’ll flow a lot better. Also, be sure to use a spellchecker. English is hard. I know you’re not a native speaker, so that’s why I’m suggesting it. This fic will be a hit, you just have to polish it, to make it shine its brightest. HMU if you need help, and good luck!”

3.5 Pure criticism

Simply state an opinion, not ways to improve. Ideally, it’s polite, but might not be.

Example(s):

“It reads very amateurish, repeats many clichés from the fandom, and the characterization is off. I was in for the tags, ends up it’s not great.”

3.6 Hate/harassment, demanding updates, unwanted comments

Comments that try to bring the author down, attack them, demand faster updates, are impolite in general, or outright creepy. Might contain swear words and threats.

Example(s):

“lol this fic is trash, don’t waste your time” “I bet you live in your mom’s basement to this day and will never get a girlfriend” “Why don’t you post the next chapter already? It’s been a month. We’re all waiting” “Ugh, such disgusting content, what to expect from shippers of that pairing?” “Write even one more chapter, and I’ll doxx you” “Quick question, do you have an OnlyFans?”

3.7 Requests/prompts

Ask if the author could write a specific thing or suggests ideas for a fic.

Example(s):

“Could you write more one-shots of them? I need this pairing in my life.” “Put them all in a high fantasy AU, each one from a different race, competing for the throne. Three parts minimum. It’ll be awesome in your style and I want to see it.”

♥ 4: Writing cohesive and coherent comments ♥

AKA “I don’t know how to write X type of comment, help me”.

If you need further help, check the Long Live Feedback (LLF) Comment Builder.

4.1 Types I’m not going to cover and why

I’m not going to teach you how to write “pure criticism” and “hate/harassment” comments. Section 3 had a guide on identifying them, not encouragement to write it.

Pure criticism can be “an opinion”. Sure, “critic” is a job, like film critics, book critics, etc. There’s also such a thing as a nice opinion. However, I’d like to keep it positive. I don’t want to teach you how to tear a fic down without teaching you how to tell the author ways to do better. It might scare people away from fandom, especially newbies and/or insecure writers. Avoid criticizing total strangers (do it to friends who take it well, and it’s none of my business). You don’t know who’s behind the screen and the hardships they’re facing. Be kind.

I don’t need to go into detail about why teaching how to bully and harass others online is a bad idea. It’s unavoidable to come across hate comments on the internet. Anonymity makes people think they’re free to say as they please. Be the change the world needs to see.

If you do end up spreading hate online, I hope you face consequences, learn from your mistakes, quit doing it, and find something healthier to pass the time.

4.2 Not-so-verbal comments (emojis, keysmashes, second kudos…)

Emojis/kaomojis: send the ones that best represent your emotions.

Keysmash: type lots of incoherent letters without any words.

Second kudos: send heart emojis, maybe with “second kudos!” written as well.

4.3 Short positive comments

“Loved it!” or “great/amazing fic!” are fail-proof. You can also add “thanks for sharing”, “Love this [ship/plot/trope/other]”, “your style is great”, and other things you can think.

4.4 Medium and long positive comments

You can open comments with things like:

What you were doing when you found the fic (at school/work? procrastinating? looking for a rarepair? looking for a specific tag/theme?);

What time of the day it was;

Stating if you’re a newcomer to their works or not;

Other things you can think of.

There are a few things you can praise:

Writing style;

Characterization/development;

Plot;

Pacing;

Dialogue;

Being engaging;

Being original;

Other things you can think of.

You can proceed with:

Quoting your favorite lines of the fic;

Mentioning if you usually read that type of fic or not;

Saying if a scene made you cry/laugh;

Saying if a scene will stick with you for a while;

If it’s your favorite fic of that pairing/tag/theme;

If it’s your favorite fic of that fandom;

If it’s your favorite fic ever;

Other things you can think of.

4.5 Constructive criticism (concrit)

This one needs a little more structuring.

Create a document somewhere. Google Docs, Word, Notes app, etc.;

List strengths. Writing style? Characterization? Plot? Character development? Pacing? Dialogue? Spelling, punctuation, grammar? Being engaging? Being original? Others?;

List weaknesses. Same list as above;

Try to come up with ways the author could improve on the weaknesses. Grammar and the like? Spellcheckers. The plot structure is on the weaker side? Studying storytelling and structure. Robotic dialogue? Paying attention to real conversations, and so on;

Then, use a model like this if you want:

[These are all the things that I think are good, and don’t need to change.] [Next, these are the things I think need more work.] [These are ways they can do it better, and solutions for the problems I found.] [Here, you wish the best of luck to them, reassure them you’re doing it out of liking the fic, and state your intention to help them if they need it again.] [If they need further feedback, and you’re willing to do it, leave your contact info.]

4.6 Requests/prompts

If the author hasn’t stated publicly that they take requests/fill prompts, don’t send them uninvited. Always ask first. If they respond positively, proceed. If they don’t, it’s nothing personal. Some aren’t good with prompts or have no time/desire to write them.

Some authors provide sheets for requests or list things they will/won’t write. If there is a sheet, fill it out and send it. If they don't write something, don’t insist they do.

If it’s a request, be polite and non-demanding. Phrase it like “could you write this?” or “would you be open to writing that?”. Never “5k fic of this/that character doing this, ready by tomorrow night”, you’re not their boss. Preferably, thank them for their time and effort.

If it’s a prompt, provide enough information, not too much information. Don’t go overboard on details: the author won’t be able to elaborate with their personal touch. You’re asking them specifically to write it, so in theory, you want their take, not just your ideas.

If you want a specific thing to be out of the fic, state it, especially if there’s a chance the author could add it because it’d fit the context. For example, in a car accident prompt, someone dying isn’t out of place. Don’t want any deaths? Tell them.

An example of a weak prompt:

“Write a one-shot about Main Character.”

An example of a well-rounded prompt:

“Three years after canon ends, Main Character and Side Character #1 see Character Dead in Canon walking on the street on a Friday night. Character Dead in Canon didn’t seem to notice them, then entered the most suspicious nightclub. No smut/incest, please.”

An example of a too-detailed prompt:

“What if Main Character woke up, checked their phone, and there is a text message demanding they get to work at 7:35 am? Their former boss requested they deal with this, this, and this activity they used to do. However, they’ve been retired for years, since they were deemed unfit to work. Thing is, their boss has a miracle solution for the health issue they’re facing, but their boss isn’t going to tell them about the solution until they arrive at the office. I’d like it to be 30k words minimum, it should include spicy scenes here and there, but nothing explicit. Their car should be red. Their cat is a Maine Coon named Salt. They are dating me specifically. I am 165 cm tall, my weight is 60 kg…”

Part 1 // Part 3 // Part 4 are waiting for you.

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[frogtanii]

tw. mentions / descriptions of a panic attack

bokuto was excited — more excited than he’d been in weeks!

he was finally getting the time to spend time with his beloved, his puppy, for the first time in forever thanks to the recent onslaught of drama the house had been embroiled in.

he figured he should thank you for bringing it all on because now, as he stood in front of meiko’s room, he had a chance.

“puppy!” bokuto called out, knocking on her door enthusiastically. after a moment of muttering, shuffling around and a loud curse, the door opened up just a crack to reveal meiko clad in only a thin bedsheet with her thin lips wrapped around a cigarette.

kotarou peered over her head and into her room where he spotted a quick flash of dark brown hair before meiko stepped out and closed the door behind her.

“who was that?” he questioned innocently, assuming that it was one of the other housemates. meiko narrowed her eyes at him and blew out a puff of smoke.

“what do you want bokuto.” her voice was steely and cold, nothing like her usual peppy self. still, bokuto couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was in there who shouldn’t be.

“you know,” kotarou began hesitantly, studying her face for reactions. “iwaizumi doesn’t like anyone in here who hasn’t signed a contract. and also you’re not allowed to smoke.” his nose turned up at the smell, disgust for the cigarette written clear on his face.

meiko rolled her eyes at him before taking another drag and blowing the smoke out straight into his face. bokuto tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but his lung capacity wasn’t so great. i need to work on that, he thought as he heaved and choked on the smoke circling down into his chest.

the love of his life adjusted her sheet covering before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with the end of the blanket. “i asked you a question bokuto. what the fuck do you want?”

the harshness in her tone made him pause. was what he was here for actually important? or would it just bother her unnecessarily?

no, he resolved. bokuto missed her and he wanted to spend time with his kinda-but-not-really-girlfriend! especially after he waited all this time!

“i, i wanted to spend time with you...” with every word, his hesitance grew until he was muttering, the look in meiko’s eyes sending chills down his spine.

“no,” she said and turned back to enter her room. “wait!” bokuto’s hand shot out to grab her arm, very gently pulling her closer to him. “please,” he whispered, tears beginning to rim his wide, golden eyes.

meiko stared back up at him with absolute rage in her eyes as she snatched her limb out of his hold. “listen to me right now bokuto, and listen well,” she sneered, taking a step back towards her bedroom. “i have never liked you. you’re so fucking childish and clingy and annoying! i literally cannot understand how anyone cares to hang around you.”

bokuto felt something inside him shatter at her words, a sharp gasp escaping his parted lips. “but-“ “no buts! you are fucking nothing to me! all you were was a warm body to sleep with but you weren’t even good for that,” meiko’s chest heaved as she finished speaking, her dark eyes trained on the tear tracks on bokuto’s cheeks.

gently, he lifted a hand to his face, barely registering the water that covered them, his mind desperately trying to understand what had just occurred. in the back of his head, he briefly noticed the sound of a door closing and muffled giggling but it was covered by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

how... could she? he loved her and she, she only wanted to fuck him? he poured out his entire heart, his very soul to her and for what? for her to take it and stomp on it until there was nothing left?

bokuto’s chest felt heavy — he wasn’t breathing. quickly, he took one breath, and then another and another and another until he was collapsed on the ground, heaving for air as he sobbed.

why him? what had he done to deserve this? maybe it was karma — he’d let a plastic bag float by him into a stream when he was 7 even though he knew littering was wrong. maybe it was because he didn’t kiss his mother goodbye the last time he saw her. or maybe the universe was punishing him for everything he’d done to you.

oh, you — the person who meiko had tried so hard to convince him to hate, and he had! his beloved had no reason to lie to him, or at least that’s what he believed until this moment. she lied to him about loving and caring about him so why wouldn’t she lie about everything else?

bokuto’s head was pounding as he tried to rationalize where he’d gone wrong, his usually bright eyes, dull and trained on the ceiling as he attempted to regain his breathing.

it felt like his whole world was collapsing on itself like a fallen star, just waiting to implode and destroy everyone and everything until there was nothing left and—

“hey, look at me, you’re ok,” a soft voice rang out over the buzzing in his head, his eyes beginning to focus on... your figure.

what were you doing here? he so desperately wanted to ask but the words were caught in his throat, trapped behind a wall of despair and anguish.

“don’t try to talk ok? just focus on my breathing, try and match it. i’m going to touch you now.” your soft, small (so much smaller — were you eating enough?) hand wrapped around his own and brought it up to your chest where he could feel the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

bokuto’s breath was shaky and definitely not as smooth as your own, but you didn’t seem to mind, instead holding his hand to your heart until his breathing became level and even.

he must’ve knocked out because by the time he came to, the hall was dark and you were gone, the only memory of you being a box of tissues and a glass of water on the ground next to him.

he reached for the glass first, chugging the whole thing down in only a few seconds. all that crying must have dehydrated him immensely, he realized as he searched for another cup.

standing on shaky legs, bokuto attempted to maneuver to the kitchen, holding onto the walls for stability as he crept through the dark corridors.

he quickly filled up his favorite owl mug (a gift from she-who-will-not-be-named) with water once he made it to the kitchen, extra careful not to make a lot of noise just in case someone was asleep.

bokuto swiftly gulped down his water, placing the cup in the sink where he knew it would not remain because if anything was sure, it was the clean state of the house that meiko kept.

ugh meiko. the whole situation hurt to think about so he didn’t, instead choosing to bury it in the deep recesses of his mind, never to be seen again.

as bokuto trudged upstairs back to his bedroom, he noticed the big black trash bag sat at the end of the hall near daichi’s room. he debated on taking it out himself but was ultimately convinced not to.

it’ll be gone tomorrow, he reasoned as he slipped into his room and bed before quickly falling asleep.

...

it was not gone the next day. neither was the cup in the sink, or the hair on the floor in the bathroom, or the laundry strewn all over the living room.

the whole house seemed to be in shambles and it remained that way for the entirety of the week. meiko was nowhere to be seen, flitting in and out of the house at random, escaping to only god knows where with god knows who.

bokuto didn’t care anymore. she ruined his life so why should he give a half of a shit where she was? what he did care about, on the other hand, was figuring what to do about you.

he wanted to thank you and apologize but he wasn’t sure how to do so! he knew he said some horrible things to you and was determined to make it right — not just for you but for himself too.

℗ poker face

shattered

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ok writing this genuinely made me cry???? bokuto is my comfort character so making him go through this i just </3 i hope it came across ok? it’s literally 1 am so there may v well be typos and massive mistakes but i hope u guys enjoy this miserably sad chapter LMAO don’t forget to feed me <3

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the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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[thosch3i]

Hi hi! So the lost tombs and chronology all super confuse me. So tlt2 ended on a cliffhanger that was not resolved by tlt3 which is ultimate note, but now there is another tlt3 that I am guessing is made by the same studio as tlt2 (but not UN) that actually follows tlt2? And it has the same WPZ as tlt2 (but sadly different WX, ZQL though I’m sure these guys are great). You seem to know what you’re talking about so I’m hoping you can help!

UN also ended on a cliff hanger so I’m wondering if they’ll get a sequel from their studio that comes before tomb of the sea.

ahhh hello anon! yes ahaha the dmbj dramas are certainly very confusing--because they keep switching the screenwriters/entire production team between dramas. huanrui did tlt1 (2015), tlt2 (2019), and the sequel to tlt2 (2021). they're also technically the production company for un (2020), but linghe did like all the directing/casting/writing so its significantly different in tone and quality from the other dramas huanrui produced. npss (dmbj author) did sha hai (2018) and tltr (2020), with sha hai being in collab with linghe, so you can see lots of parallels with un and shared cast. (gonna add that i dont know much about the m9 because that’s not what im personally interested in, so i’m only going by stories with wu xie & the iron triangle.)

unfortunately, the dramas pretty have no continuity as a result of all the weird shit and multiple studios doing different dramas and messy stuff going on behind the scenes. the author's production company currently has all the rights back for filming future dramas, which is......imo, a good thing for book fans who love the author but a 😬 thing for book fans who like the original story more than what the author is now doing with it. I'll uh avoid saying too much opinion stuff though so no more on that 😅

that aside! yes 云顶天宫 “explore with the note” part 2......is the direct sequel to tlt2 and done by the same studio. unfortunately the writers are different and im not sure how much of the production team is the same either. idk how much you know about the novels so brief summary here--for the chinese version, the main story has 9 parts split among 8 books (though the official eng tls have each part being a different book) with some important content being as follows:

official eng title “cavern of blood zombies” (first time wx goes into a tomb, first t3j meeting)

official eng title “angry sea, hidden sands” (xisha seabed tomb, introduce a-ning)

official eng title “bronze tree of death” (bronze tree in qinling, wx & lao yang solo adventure)

official eng title “palace of doom” (heavenly palace on the clouds, introduce bronze gate)

official eng title “deadly desert winds” (golmud, introduce hei xiazi, desert, rainforest, tamutuo)

official eng title “graveyard of a queen” (the rest of that arc, wu sanxing & xie lianhuan reveal, jade meteorite, amnesiac xiaoge and escape, sanshu vanishes for good--also i think the official eng tl covers a couple chapters of the beginning of the next part too)

阴山古楼 (searching for xiaoge’s memories in banai, miluotuo cave, i think introduction of wu erbai)

邛笼石影 (auction/hotel iron triangle fight, introduce xiao hua & xiuxiu, wx & xh on the mountains alone while pz & xg go with granny huo)

finale (rescue from zhang family mansion, changbai mountain goodbye, 10 years promise)

after the main story are the main sequels:

zang hai hua (tibetan sea flower; unfinished & abandoned) covers wu xie a few years after xiaoge has entered the gate, searching to understand xiaoge’s past

sha hai (tomb of the sea; unfinished & abandoned) covers wu xie’s plan to wipe out the wang family, after zhh

chongqi (reunion: the sound of the providence) covers wu xie’s lung disease and how he recovers from that, set after they pick up xiaoge again from the bronze gate. thunder city and everything.

灯海寻尸&万山极夜 (still updating on wechat) don’t worry about this one since it’s still a WIP lol

btw between sha hai and chongqi there’s also ten years later (a short story) that covers how wu xie and pangzi pick up xiaoge from the bronze gate and take him home

the dramas Do Not Connect To Each Other At All, which the exception of tlt2 & tlt2 pt2 somewhat, but they go in this order:

盗墓笔记 / the lost tomb 1 (2015): covers part 1 but with major OCs and filler, and includes the auction scene from part 8 for some reason, so introduces xiao hua early.

怒海潜沙&秦岭神树 / the lost tomb 2 (2019) technically “explore with the note”: covers parts 2 & 3 but with major OCs and filler, introduces xiao hua & xiuxiu (and hei xiazi briefly) early. last couple episodes also cover the beginning of part 4. not a direct sequel to tlt1 despite being done by the same studio.

云顶天宫 / heavenly palace on the clouds (2021) technically also “explore with the note”: covers part 4 with major OCs and filler (and the same changes carrying over from tlt2). some episodes are identical to the last couple episodes of tlt2. works as a direct sequel only if you ignore the last couple episodes of tlt2 that take place in the snowy mountains. (those episodes of tlt2 were filmed after this drama was filmed, and im still not sure why they dragged the wu xie and xiaoge from tlt2 back to changbai mountain to film those episodes.)

终极笔记 / ultimate note (2020): covers parts 5-8 with minor OCs and minimal filler, also introduces xiao hua & xiuxiu early. the only adaptation that resembles its source material most of the time.

沙海 / tomb of the sea (2018): covers the second sequel with major OCs and filler. includes some bits from zhh and the short story “three days of silence”.

重启之极海听雷 / the lost tomb reboot (2020): covers third sequel with major OCs and filler.

in addition there is the prequel series mystic nine (2016) and side movies for the dramas that the author produced. there is also a single standalone movie--time raiders (2016) that is....well it’s. very strange. it’s fully subbed on youtube if you’re interested?

the best way to watch the dramas is to assume each one is its own self-contained AU set along different points of the dmbj timeline because even the dramas the author himself worked on don’t have continuity LOL (and with the exception of ultimate note & sha hai most of the time, also assume most characters are pretty OOC from the novels).

i uh regret to inform you though, that ultimate note will not be getting a sequel unless the author magically decides to not care about making money anymore and sells the rights to film the finale to linghe or something ^^;;;; it’s....unfortunate bc un is the most highly-rated dmbj adaptation on douban by A Lot, but it’s an adaptation that the author had literally nothing to do with whatsoever.

more information on some of the side movies/stage plays/manhua/donghua here.

summaries of the main novel stories (currently through zhh) here.

edited mtl (some of which has apparently been looked over by native cn speakers) of the novels following where official eng tls end here. (there are many scattered extras as well.)

you can get the official eng tl books/ebooks on amazon or elsewhere(?), but if you have problems purchasing them or like you just dont wanna support amazon or something, dm me off anon. (also i dont want to be mean but frankly the official tls are kinda bad too ^^;;;)

a rough timeline (spoilers galore) for the dmbj novels here. (fair warning im not 100% sure how accurate all of this is--they put three days of silence as 1991 but looking at the info in zhh, it seems like it should have been before the 1950s...but it’s more than fine as a general overview.)

anyway i hope that was helpful in some way? dmbj is a Very Confusing thing to get into ahahaha, one of my twitter mutuals has made a few carrds if you think they might be helpful: book, dramas (slightly out of date bc it says heavenly palace hasn’t aired yet), ultimate note (got its own carrd by virtue of being the only adaptation aside from sha hai sometimes that most og book fans acknowledge lol ^^;;;)

also anon if anything wasn’t clear or if you had more questions feel free to ask again sorry ahahaha im kinda tired rn @.@ 

#dmbj #shouting into the void #ask #anon #....im kinda tired bc i just finished watching ydtg so i hope that doesnt come across *too much* in this post LOL #and its probably obvious which adaptation im biased towards but after reading the novels i cant really help it

[divine-mistake]

The Cracks in Our Reality (3)

Summary: Loki hates the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower because she’s too loud and too sarcastic and too kind and too soft, especially to him, who really doesn’t deserve it.

Characters: Loki/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut), language, mentions of violence

A/N: Thanks for reading! And BIG THANK YOU for 100 followers already! I’m still taking requests at this moment 🥰 

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist  | AO3 | Playlist

He makes it almost a week before Thor drags him from his room and forces him to eat a decent dinner. By decent dinner, his brother means a dinner surrounded by the very people he’s threatened to kill, who have threatened to kill him, who hates his presence almost as much as he hates being on Midgard.

Loki isn’t impressed.

But Thor swears he’ll stop being a bother until the press conference coming up next week, something that Loki desperately needs. No matter that the conference is scheduled because of him, Loki would rather stab himself about a thousand times than attend, for a number of reasons.

Number One: He doesn’t want to be an Avenger, especially as part of his imprisonment on Midgard.

Number Two: He doesn’t want to go and stand in front of a crowd of mortals who wish to speak about his invasion of New York, and that is all they are going to talk about. 

Why he shouldn’t be on Midgard—he knows this and wholeheartedly agrees. Why he shouldn’t be an Avenger—he never asked to be one. Why he should stand trial and face the death penalty—

Yes. That’s an interesting thought, is it not?

Number Three: He doesn’t want to see her, that Midgardian woman, the insufferable creature that makes his skin feel alive, trying to detach from his body like the molted carcass of a snake.

And he knows she’s in charge of the press conference.

Loki isn’t sure if attending might be akin to owing her a favor, and if there is one thing he wants to avoid while being chained to this damned Tower, it’s avoiding owing her anything. If he could avoid her completely, he would.

He hates her with a viciousness that makes his hands shake.

So if joining his brother for one godforsaken dinner in the common room will allow him a few extra days of silence, a short peace of mind, then by the Norns, Loki will dress in his robes and follow Thor downstairs to have the quickest meal he’s ever had.

It’s not too bad in the beginning. Thor, dressed in a simple long-sleeved shirt and a pair of denim trousers, Midgardian drab, ribs Loki for still wearing his Asgardian clothes and promises to take him shopping sometime soon. Loki shudders at the thought and resolves to dress in the horrid Midgardian things next time. Thor doesn’t press him about his public appearance next week, doesn’t even make a one-off joke about Loki hiding away in his room, alone. By the time they reach the common space, where the sounds of dishware clinking and a screech of an oven timer fills the floor, Loki is almost sure he’s worried for naught.

And then he sees her, sitting at the breakfast bar on a stool she twists around in, laughing at something.

His brain completely shuts off for a fraction of a second. Perhaps more than that. By the time he blinks back into existence, his lips twist into a frown, countenance cold and stoic. He vaguely feels Thor’s hand clap him on his back, forcing Loki to avert his eyes and focus on surveying the room instead of trying to figure out what bothers him so much about her laughing.

Now, he realizes she’s not the only one in the kitchen. There are a few others sitting in the dining room: Rogers and Stark at arguing about something while Banner is pouring over some documents between bites of the pasta dish everyone seems to be sharing. Romanoff is sitting closest to the bar where the Midgardian woman is, and Loki makes a point not to look at her again.

“My friends!” Thor greets in his usual fashion. He pushes Loki forward and bounds toward the woman, surrounding her with his arms and dropping a kiss to the crown of her hair. He whispers something in her ear that Loki tries very hard not to comprehend. Instead, he passes by the bar to head toward the refrigerator. He needs a glass of water—now.

He feels them staring at his back, the very people he’s threatened to kill, who have threatened to kill him, who hates his presence almost as much as he hates being on Midgard, the reason why he never wanted to come down for a decent dinner in the first place.

“So you finally brought Reindeer Games down to socialize with us?” Stark questions his brother, but it makes Loki twitch. He pours himself a glass and leans against the counter, sipping from it, eyeing the menagerie of Avengers at the dining room table. He doesn’t look at the Midgardian woman.

“Steve made pasta,” Romanoff says, ignoring the last comment.

“I thought Loki needed to get out of his room for once!” Thor says, a wide smile on his face. He pats the Midgardian woman on her back and then heads into the kitchen, toward the steaming hot dish that presumably holds the pasta. “Captain Rogers! This smells incredible! But it does not look correct.”

“It’s not spaghetti, Thor,” the Midgardian woman says with a laugh. “It’s bolognese. It’s really good though, you’ll like it.”

For a brief moment, her eyes meet his, and Loki’s brain freezes again.

“Not sure how your brother will feel about it,” she says, but then as quick as she looked at him she looks away, smiling up at Thor again.

Loki clenches his hand into a fist.

“He’ll like it or he can eat something else,” he vaguely hears Rogers mutter under his breath. Loki sneers.

“It’s not as if Midgardian food will compare to anything from Asgard,” he says to no one in particular. It causes Thor to frown, makes Rogers give Stark a piercing look. Loki revels in how easy it is to rile people up in this Tower.

But then the woman shrugs, taking a sip of her drink, not looking at him. “I’m sure it won’t—nothing compares to food from your home. But it’s better than starving, isn’t it, your Highness?”

She looks at him with a smile painted across her lips, but her eyes are icy, stone, stricken. Loki has been alive for centuries and yet he cannot name the feeling that grows in the pit of his stomach.

“Come, brother,” Thor says, breaking the tension. “Let us eat some of Captain Rogers’ Bowl of Nays!”

“Bolognese,” she enunciates for him again, so gentle in comparison to the way she speaks to Loki.

“Bolognese,” Thor tries again, grinning from ear to ear as he pronounces it correctly. The Midgardian woman nods, giving him a thumbs up.

By the time Thor steers Loki toward the dining room table—Banner has already left—the conversation has moved on and no one is paying attention to the Gods anymore. Romanoff has joined in the argument with Rogers and Stark, leaving the Midgardian woman to scribble in a thick binder as she eats sitting away from the rest of them.

The bolognese isn’t that bad, but he’d never admit it out loud.

He’s perhaps halfway through his dinner when the sound of a phone ringing stops the conversation he hasn’t been participating in. Everyone turns to look at the Midgardian woman, who drops her fork and answers her cellular device.

She barely gets a word out before a woman’s voice crackles from the other side of the connection, so loud that Loki could have heard it even without his superior hearing. Which means, of course, that everyone at the table can hear it, too.

“I’ve never once been told that my cameraman isn’t allowed to take flash photography! Unbelievable. This is so unprofessional of you. I want to speak to your higher ups—whoever put you in charge!”

He sees the flash of embarrassment cross the woman’s face as she holds the phone away from her ear. Then, her visage shifts to something of frustration, something Loki has seen her wear in regards to his person.

“Excuse me,” she says, interrupting whoever is yelling over the phone. “You’re speaking to the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower. I’m the one who set up this press conference and I’m the one who instituted the policy of no flash photography at this particular conference.”

The conversation drops to a level that Loki is unable to hear, the static of the cellular connection covering the sound of the woman on the other end. He watches, as the others do, how the Midgardian woman’s nose scrunches, her brow furrows, her knee begins to shake, her free hand plays with her pen.

All signs of hidden anxiety.

Then, the woman flips through the binder she was previously writing in, landing on a different page and letting her finger drag over what Loki can see is a list of words. Her lips purse and she turns the page again, searching for something.

“Ma’am, if you continue to disrespect me this way, I will have no issue hanging up on you.” Her words come out strong—much stronger, much more forced than when she’s spoken in anger to Loki. “Now, you’re with Morse Code Media, is that correct?”

Nodding her head as if the caller can see her, the Midgardian woman writes something in the binder.

“Right, well, I have a proposition for you, Mrs. Harper.” She scribbles something else. “If you have a problem with my no-flash-photography rule, then you and your company will be taken off the list. Does that work for you?”

The voice explodes from the phone’s speaker, angry and shrill, but the Midgardian woman doesn’t flinch this time.

“And while we’re at it,” she says, writing again, “I’ll go ahead and take Morse Code Media off every list for any future press events. In fact, I’ll even blacklist your company for you. And I’m sure that when another representative from your company calls to ask why they’ve been blacklisted from every single Avengers event for the next ten years, you’ll be alright with me giving them your name. Is that right, Mrs. Harper?”

It is precisely now that Loki realizes the Midgardian woman isn’t just sharp with him—she is sharp with everyone.

He rather likes that idea.

“That’s my girl,” Stark mutters. He reaches over Rogers to raise a hand to Romanoff, who high-fives him.

After a moment of silence in the common room, with only the low static of a voice over the phone splitting the quiet, the woman stops writing in her binder. Loki watches as her face melts into something else entirely, a hardened look that threatens to reveal something softer underneath.

It was the face she first wore when she looked at him, addressing him, asking him if he wanted to be here. He would recognize that look anywhere.

“Let me explain something to you, Mrs. Harper,” she says, firm and unyielding, but not as loud. “Do you know why, in recent years, we have switched to a no-flash-photography policy for our press conferences?”

She twirls her pen and bounces her knee again.

“Because the Avengers are heroes, but they’re people, too.” Her voice is so soft now. “They may be heroes to the public but at home, they are people who have seen too much. The Avengers are the ones who keep us all safe, and in order to do that, do you know the horror they’ve seen? Much more than you or I will ever see in our normal, ordinary lives, Mrs. Harper.

“Flash photography can trigger unpleasant images, memories, or other reactions from these people who are already on stage in front of a crowd of fifty reporters who are all waiting to capture their heroes in a permanent medium. If you have flash photography going off, and one of the Avengers has a reaction, you’re going to catch that reaction in something that lasts forever. And media studios don’t throw things like that away—they keep them and make a profit off of it.

“We don’t allow flash photography at these events anymore because these heroes are people and they deserve to be comfortable, even at press conferences. They are saving our lives. It’s the least we can do to take care of them. To thank them.”

Loki swallows hard. His fingers tighten around his fork. The bolognese on his plate has gone ice cold.

The Midgardian scratches something out then writes something down. “I’m glad you and I have come to an understanding, Mrs. Harper. I don’t want to blacklist your company at all. As long as we have an agreement that your photographer will not be using flash equipment, I think we can make this work. Is that alright with you?”

The Midgardian woman smiles, and though it’s small and soft and she’s looking down at her binder, Loki thinks, for the first time, that she is more pretty than he might’ve thought before.

“Great. Thank you for calling, Mrs. Harper. I’ll be there to greet you at the press conference personally. Have a nice night.”

Then she hangs up, releases a breath, and closes her binder. When she looks over, she startles instantly, most likely at the realization that everyone has been watching her in silence for the past few minutes. Loki wonders how her face changes so easily—from content, to laughing, to anxious, to angry. Now, to shocked.

It’s Rogers, ultimately, who speaks first. “How do you do it, Rabbit?” He shakes his head.

The Midgardian woman lets her head fall to the side, confused. “Do what? Deal with people?” She laughs but it’s short, not drawn out like before. “I get paid to do that.”

“No,” Rogers says. “I mean, how are you still so nice to people after they treat you like that?”

“You heard that?” She frowns.

“We all did, angel,” Stark chimes in. “You handled yourself well. Loved the attitude.”

She rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal. She just didn’t understand why I take the no-flash policy so seriously.”

“She disrespected you,” Rogers stresses.

“Yeah,” Romanoff says. “And then she guilted you and you took the bait.”

The Midgardian woman shakes her head, then opens her binder again to look through the pages.

“It’s not that simple,” she says. “People get mad when they don’t like things because they’re worried about something. She was mad because I changed the rules, so her idea of normal suddenly became wrong, and that scared her. And I’m sure she was being pressured by her boss, too.”

“But she took it out on you. You didn’t have to be nice to her,” Romanoff says.

“I didn’t,” she agrees. “But sometimes, it’s worth it to reach out and help people instead. She didn’t know why the policy exists, and now she does. Maybe she’ll tell other people, and then more people will understand that you guys are people first, heroes second. You deserve kindness.”

Romanoff stares at her until the woman is forced to look back.

“You deserve kindness too, Zaika.”

She tucks her chin close to her chest, her smile morphing into something small and perhaps a little sad.

“I do,” she says, “but sometimes you only get kindness if you extend it first. It’s like letting a biting dog sniff your hand. If you show people that you’re safe, that you aren’t going to hurt them, sometimes they’ll realize that they only bit you out of fear.”

The Midgardian woman tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks up, her eyes meeting Loki’s from across the room. He sucks in a breath.

“And all anger stems from fear,” she says quietly.

Suddenly, something visceral is rising up within him, something hot blooming in his chest at her look. She’s looking at him with such sadness, such pity. Loki wants to grab her by the hair and force her to her knees, force her to submit, force her to look at him with anything other than the damned pity that is swimming in her eyes under the dim lights of the kitchen.

He hates her. He hates how her face changes so easily, how her eyes are so expressive, how she talks as though she is the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end, the one true god of Midgard. Like she is better than him.

The fork snaps in his grasp, metal clattering against the ceramic dishware. He’s aware of people looking at him now, but he’s locked in a stare with this insufferable mortal woman that ignites the blaze searing through his limbs.

“You Midgardians—” he spits like fire and brimstone “—are weaker than I thought previously if you so inanely believe that kindness begets kindness.” His vision now has gone black, the wheels of his mind turning uselessly. He doesn’t understand this loss of control. “Your gross display of submission only proves how worthless you truly are, little girl.”

You’re angry, something in the back of his head tells him.

It’s fear, something else says.

She is right, he thinks, but by now the damage is done and her face has gone completely blank—he’s never seen her look so empty.

Suddenly, Romanoff stands from the table so quickly her chair screeches across the tiles. Out of the corner of his eye, Thor looks horrified.

“Listen here, you little—” Romanoff starts, but she’s cut off instantly.

“Nat,” the Midgardian calls, slipping down from her perch at the breakfast bar. Her feet are bare again, he notices, toes still polished pink. “Just leave it.”

Romanoff turns to stare at her, incredulous. “Zaika,” she says, but the woman shakes her head.

“It’s fine, Nat, really.” The woman places her empty dish in the sink, her face still devoid of emotion.

Loki hates that. Why is her countenance so blank when she is usually so emotive? Why doesn’t she look at him with anger, with hate, with anything?

She turns, waving a hand at the table. “I’m going to bed, got a long day tomorrow. Night, guys.” Then, she gives him one last glance. “Good night, your Highness.”

Loki watches her go, her binder pressed close to her chest, the room in complete silence, and all he can think about is how much he regrets his own words. All he can think about is how much he’s always regretting his words now, when he’s around her, and how much he fails at apologizing to people.

He hates that he came to dinner. He hates that she was there. He hates that he watched how her face metamorphosed so easily, like the gentle flutterings of a new butterfly, wings still damp, and he hates how his inability to curb his tongue resulted in erasing that completely.

But most of all, Loki hates her.

And he hates himself, too.

The leather of his armor, shades of black and green, is heavy on his body where once it felt like a part of him. Under the changing sunlight flooding through the tinted glass windows of the car, the gold he wears flashes brilliantly. He blinks, staring down at plates of metal covering his body. It’s different than his old set—the armor he wore when he stormed New York. He decided not to wear his helmet, either, taking a page from Thor’s book and keeping the look casual.

The mortals think he’s dangerous enough, even when he stands next to his warmongering brother.

Thor, who leans against the car door on the other side of the leather seat, looks over at him. They hold each other’s gaze for a moment before turning away once again.

“Feels like the olden days,” Thor says cryptically, but Loki knows what he means.

“Indeed, it does,” he replies, breathing deeply.

The heavy beating of his heart, the excitement and tension coiling like a viper in his stomach, the armor warm against his skin. His stiff hand flexes as if it's forgotten the weight of his daggers and yearns to be reminded.

It’s the calm before battle—the anxiety before the storm.

Loki is nervous. He hopes it isn’t apparent, but he strains to keep his body under his control. It would be an embarrassment worthy of death if he showed his fear, flinching, yielding, shaking, twitching, trembling.

But underneath it all, there is something else.

It’ll be the first day that he sees her, the Midgardian woman, since the day he left the wreckage of an apocalypse in his wake as he yelled and belittled her, right after she was belittled by someone else about her talents in her work. He never apologized. He wasn’t given the chance, and even if he had been, Loki somehow guesses he wouldn’t have apologized anyway.

If there is anything Loki Odinson, God of Mischief, is poor at, it’s sincere apologies.

His hand, where it lay upon his knee, legs spread wide in the backseat of the chauffeured car, itch to dance. The nervousness he feels—both from the press conference they are driving toward and the threat of seeing her again—races through his veins. He obeys it and smooths his fingers through his hair, which falls in gentle, soft, shiny curls against his shoulders.

“We’re almost there,” Thor says, interrupting his descent into anxiety briefly before sending him spiraling down again.

“Oh good,” he says instinctively. “I cannot wait to bare myself in front of these witless mortals while they prosecute me on live television.”

“Loki.” Thor’s voice is a warning. “Rabbit will not allow that to happen.”

He scoffs at this. “Right.”

Beside him, his brother raises a brow. “Do you doubt my friend?”

“She’s like the rest of those imbeciles.” Loki brushes his brother off with a flick of a hand. “She hates me, and that is perfectly fine with me. She is insufferable to be around.”

And her hating him means she won’t care when they inevitably use him as a scapegoat for all the trouble the Avengers have had in recent. She’ll let Stark jeer at him, let the reporters ask about New York, let the crowd swallow him up in reminders of all the mistakes he has made and once he’s drowning, they’ll say it's proof he’s evil.

Loki makes an effort not to look at his brother’s deepening frown but he catches it from the edge of his vision.

“Lady Rabbit is one of my greatest friends on Midgard,” Thor tells him and Loki pretends to ignore him. “I truly believe the two of you would get along if you would not be so difficult.”

“Difficult?” Loki snaps, head turning to meet Thor’s eyes.

“I just mean that you are hardened,” Thor quickly amends. “You are distrustful of people.”

“I wonder why,” he snarls in reply, shifting in his seat to face toward the window completely. “Perhaps it’s that my life has been built on a lie.”

Thor doesn’t say anything to that, and for this brief reprieve, Loki is grateful. It’s not as if his brother could understand. Loki doesn’t know why he has to constantly remind himself of this, as if he’s making excuses for Thor over and over. But Thor will never understand, and Loki doesn’t think it’s his job to explain it to him. Thor is a God, he’s a king, he’s in all these positions of power and status—he’s smart enough to figure out why Loki has a chip on his shoulder.

“Rabbit will not let them vilify you, brother,” Thor says with finality in his tone.

Loki thinks the silence is better than anything else.

“You’ll be standing next to Thor, so walk in with him, and you two will be upstage on Tony’s left. You won’t have to say anything at all, just stand up straight and look pretty.”

She’s not even looking at him as she speaks, but her hand is gesturing wildly at him as her eyes are focused on a clipboard she has propped up against her ribcage.

“Is that a compliment, little girl?” he goads, a charmed smile curling on his lips before he can stop it.

But the Midgardian woman ignores him completely, moving toward Stark and writing on her clipboard.

He deserved that.

Somehow, today she looks different. More professional, perhaps, for the press conference. Unlike the normally bright, colorful, patterned clothes she wears on a daily basis, today she is dressed in a demure gray gown that outlines her curves. A thin black belt with a gold-plated buckle cinches the small of her waist and his eye cannot help but fall on the way it accentuates her body.

And she is wearing heels again, black little pumps that bring her up to his chin, whereas normally she is much smaller in stature. He wonders if it makes her feel more powerful to level the playing field—though Loki would argue she doesn’t need much to make her any more fierce.

He hates that about her.

But he doesn’t have much more time to think about it, or to think about why he’s stared at her for so long, because she begins to wave them forward and her small hand falls upon his shoulder blade and guides him forward to follow Thor and he doesn’t have time to snap at her for touching him.

Her hand is warm, he can feel, even through the leather of his armor.

Then, it begins. As they enter the conference room, Loki holds his head high and rolls his shoulders back, nearly matching Thor’s height as they march up the stage and position themselves where the Midgardian woman said they would be. He hears the snap of cameras, but just as she promised, there are no flashes of light following them.

His face neutral, Loki regards the crowd of mortals before him as Stark takes his place behind the podium. Off to the side, not on stage, stands the Midgardian whose eyes roam over the throng of press. Her clipboard has disappeared and she clasps her hands in front of her body instead.

Stark begins talking, but Loki doesn’t care to listen. He knows what Stark is saying—the script had been left outside his door the previous night from whom he guesses to be the Midgardian. It’s the questions he’s truly worried about, the ones he’s not allowed to answer for himself. Thor told him that the press would ask questions about Loki’s invasion and his probationary period. They would ask about his imprisonment. They would ask about Asgard.

He could handle most things. He knew he could handle this, too. The minuscule quake of his hands would go unnoticed.

But the guilt would return in the night, just as it had all nights previously, and Loki would stare at the ceiling, awake and ashamed, and then he would take it out on everyone around him. Loki would take it out on her again because she pitied him, and he hated that.

He hated her.

Locked in this specific thought, that is when it happens. Suddenly, a flash of light whitens his vision and Loki blinks in surprise and he is no longer in the room, surrounded by his brother and the Avengers, and he’s instead surrounded by darkness and an incandescent heat that has no beginning and no ending.

It’s so hot here. It’s so hot there is no sweat that pours from his body. His body has become liquid. He has melted. He is melting. It doesn’t even hurt anymore. It’s just white-hot, searing, everything is fire, everything is pain. Loki wants to open his mouth until his jaw rips apart and scream, but his bones are soldered together and he’s too weak to break them.

His vision is black and they are not melting him. They are evaporating him, his native glacier skin, his entire being.

And when he blinks again, the first thing he sees is Rabbit, who's stumbling back from the crowd and being caught by Rogers.

Next Chapter

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[lananiscorner]

FE3H DimiMari Playthrough - Maddening ch. 10-12: Recruitment: check, Paralogues: check, Sanity: Error 404

Welcome to my DimiMari playthrough--my first Maddening playthrough with the extra difficulty of no NG+ and only being allowed to use Holy Knights Dimitri and Marianne!

Today, we look at how chapters 10 to 12 went beneath the cut.

Chapter 10:

I have 9 pre skip paralogues left to do, and 5 weeks left to do them (excluding the first days of chapters 10 and 11 for exploration), so from here on out, I need to manage my time extra carefully. This month’s tournament gives an Advanced Seal, and since I am permanently broke in Maddening, I use this chance to get a free seal and some money. I reach B support with Linhardt, Bernadetta and Leonie before I even get to the dining hall, so the number of people I need to have meals with has been reduced drastically.

Since I cannot guarantee that my remaining recruits will ask to join before the end of White Clouds, I decide to get some faculty training in with what few options I have this month: Brawling with Rhea for Caspar, Reason with Hanneman for Lorenz and Faith with Manuela for Lysithea. I have dinner with Lorenz (for the support) and Marianne (for motivation), then redo the tournament 4 times for money. In doing so, I also finally reach professor rank A+, so now I can do 3 battles per week at last! Lysithea decides to join me just before week 2, so no more need to train Faith. 5 recruits left to go. I realize in hindsight that I could have spammed Lorenz with gifts to get him to B support level too, but D in Reason is easier to reach than D+ in Faith, so I'll take Lysithea joining me over the risk of reloading just for that.

In the second week, I decide to tackle my final battle quest, The Cream of the Crop, using Priest Marianne, so she can catch up to Dimitri XP-wise, gain some more Faith rank, and drag Anna to level 10, so I can class her into Pegasus Knight and do her paralogue next week. For my second battle, I decide to tackle Death Toll, since it gives an Extra-Large Bullion if you rescue all the merchants (fairly easy to do in Normal/Hard) and should allow me to get Ashe to level 20, so I can finally do his paralogue. Raphael and Ignatz are not in flying classes, but at least in Normal/Hard they were fairly easy to keep out of trouble, so I'm hoping for that in Maddening too. The most important part is getting Dimitri to the bridge near the merchants quickly, so they can make their escape from the wolf.

As it turns out, if you don't lower the bridge by turn 2, the merchants will instead try to escape to the north... right into the path of a whole bunch of enemies, so I rewind and prioritize lowering the bridge over removing all the enemies between the bridge and the exit. This however ends up with bridge blocked by a Armored Knight that I can no longer reach because of the merchants. It’s at this point that I start to realize this will be much, MUCH worse than it was in Normal/Hard.

I restart and resolve to kill the pesky Armored Knight first (the other gambit user on that side is an Archer, who will need to attack from range anyway.) That too ends up getting me stuck between a rock and a hard place, so I end up switching up my strategy completely: instead of splitting up my team with Marianne near Raphael, I put her on the bridge side as well and trust that the enemies near Raphael won't start moving in on him. Thankfully, they don't for at least a few turns, and so I finally manage to lower the bridge and bait the wolf with Dimitri, while Marianne offs the last enemy near the exit, so the merchants can escape safely. ... or at least so I think until Dimitri misses a 90% gambit on the wolf and after several divine pulses, I decide to just risk killing it with a Killer Lance+. This thankfully works, so now I can focus on clearing out the remaining enemies. At this point, certain enemies are starting towards Byleth and Ignatz, which is not good, to put it mildly. Dimitri gets gambited to death in the forest near the middle wolf, and with no divine pulses left, that means another restart.

This time, I move Byleth and Ignatz south much sooner and let Marianne bait the Mage and Mercenary north of the bridge as soon as it’s lowered. I hide her in the small forest near the starting area and let her bait the enemies in the north, while Dimitri heads toward the middle, deleting enemies as he goes and slowly making his way to the right to make sure Raphael doesn't get into trouble. Unfortunately, there are too many enemies near Marianne looking at the two merchants who don't manage to escape on that turn, so I take Dimitri up there to gambit the ones that will 100% kill them into place and let Marianne take out one of the remaining three.

Unfortunately, the archers still manage to get one of the merchants and Raphael is in trouble now too, so I have to rewind quite a lot. Specifically, instead of moving Marianne too far north, I put her in a forest just north of the bridge as bait. Thanks to her combination of Sword Lv. 5, Sword Avo +20 and Alert Stance, very few things can hit her there. I gambit a wolf, but for some stupid reason it still goes after the merchants, despite Dimitri being in range, so I hide in a forest nearby and weather its staggering blow. After that, I would love to have Dimitri help Marianne out, but Raphael is in serious trouble (there is only one single tile left where he won't be attacked), so I send Dimitri east first. He gets hit by a 20% Resonant Lightning gambit, but at least he has Battalion Vantage now.

At the end of turn 5, the last merchants finally escape. I equip Dimitri with his trusty Killer Lance+, which puts his crit chance on enemy phase at 78-100%. There is a Brigand next to Dimitri who will gambit him and prevent him from rescuing Raphael in time (I had to divine pulse twice because of the bastard), so I gamble on a 33% player phase crit chance with my Killer Lance+ to defeat him. I don't get the crit... but I do get the crest of Blaiddyd activation. RIP my poor Killer Lance+, but I needed that kill.

Once Raphael is safe, I march Dimitri back twowards Marianne and kill the remaining enemies... only for Ashe to end up a bit shy of level 20. Fuck. I save in a separate slot, and then reload with a heavy heart, putting Yuri as an adjutant instead (he is level 14, compared to Ashe's 13). I really don't enjoy the idea of redoing these maps, but I cannot afford to waste battles on levelling not just one, but two people for something like only 200 XP. Thankfully, this works out in my favor and Yuri gets to level 20.

For my final battle this week, I decide to tackle Sword and Shield of Seiros. This is one of those maps where--if you don't have a character between the enemy and a target zone, they will rush the zone and cause all kinds of trouble. Keeping the pirates out of town on Hard with two fliers was hard, but doable, so I assume this will be a nightmare in Maddening. Dimitri gets Hapi as an adjutant, so she can get her last 5 levels for Pegasus Knight. You can get a stat booster and a Large Bullion here if the enemy is in town for less than 4 turns, to that's my main goal. I realize very quickly that putting Dimitri in the north and Marianne in the south is not going to work as I had planned, because she gets doubled by the Wyverns and cannot reliably kill the southern enemies on enemy phase, so I swap them around. Dimitri will just have to make his way back up north asap. This works out much better, though the constant reinforcements get annoying very quickly, especially since many of them have gambits and one of them is a wyvern that flies into the south of town. I don't see any way to rout this map while having one of my characters in a cavalry class and the other unable to reliably kill on enemy phase, so I keep Dimitri up north fighting enemies until Hapi reaches level 10, while Marianne kills first the wyvern that flies into town and then the boss. The only thing I am missing out on by doing this paralogue before Alois joins is the Holy Knights of Seiros battalion, which is fine by me. I have more important paralogues to save for chapter 11.

In week 3, I certify Hilda, Hapi, Yuri and Anna into their flying classes. Next up, I do the Secret Merchant paralogue. This one gives great rewards (lots of gold,  some special weapons, and most importantly, a flying battalion with Stride!), but it is on a timer, with enemies that have lots of gambits. Also, many archers, so if you are a flier (like my Marianne) you have to be very careful. Dimitri will be doing most of the heavy lifting here, with Ashe as his adjutant to get him to level 20. The key here is to take out Pallardo soon, so he can't teleport the loot away, then take out the loot carrying  thieves before the 10 turns are over.

I soon realize that there is an additional complication in Maddening here: the bow knight reinforcements that come in from the west can act on the same turn in which they appear, so I need to give Marianne's March Ring to either Byleth or Anna to get them into the safe zone (very southwest of the map) before they can get dragged into combat. I give Marianne a Goddess Ring instead. I make sure to take out Pallardo with Dimitri on turn 2 (reloading if he gets gambited in round 1), then have him work his way around the map. I still had to reset a few times to avoid some gambits and I didn't get all the loot (I missed one Elixer and one Bullion, to name the important ones) but it was still a good haul and most importantly, Ashe made it to level 20.

Next up, I tackle True Chivalry. I want to try to keep at least 3 of the villagers alive so I can get the Large Bullion and the Wo Dao, but I already suspect Rodrigue will be a pain to keep alive. I put Constance as Dimitri's adjutant, so she can make it to level 10 for her paralogue next month and attempt to rout this map, which fails horribly, because Rodrigue can't even survive 2 bandits. I take back what I said about Jeralt in chapter 9 being made of paper. Rodrigue is paper, Jeralt is at least cardboard by comparison. I reload, put Sylvain as Dimitri's adjutant instead (he only needs 330 XP to level 20) and give Dimitri the March Ring, reclass Marianne back into Bishop for healing duty if needed, and give her a Stride gambit so Dimitri can reach the boss in 2 turns and end the map that way. I dislike low-turning maps, but I just can’t see any way to rout this map in Maddening with only two people (it is doable in Hard, where Rodrigue lives longer). I end up getting the Extra-large Bullion and the Fraldarius Shield, which is honestly worth more than routing the map for experience, even in Maddening.

For my last battle, I decide to solo one of the double reward auxiliary battles with Marianne and adjutant Mercedes with a Knowledge Gem, which will help Marianne catch up to Dimitri in terms of levels and will let Mercedes get to C in Lances and level 10, so I can keep her out of trouble in chapter 13. As a bonus, Marianne learns Sword Crit +10.

In week 4, I choose to explore and get Lorenz to B support, then use the meal event to get Lorenz, Bernie and Linhardt closer to B+, and get Faculty Training in Reason from Hanneman and Rhea, so I can get closer to D in Reason, in case Linhardt and Lorenz won't ask to join automatically. This is especially important for Lorenz, whom I MUST recruit in the next exploration session, if I want to get access to his paralogue. Ashe, Sylvain, and Mercedes all certify into their flying classes this week, leaving me with only four people left to level up: Constance (5 levels), Annette (9), Felix (9), Balthus (17). I also need to buy more Smithing Stones and Black Sand Steel, which I now finally have money for (for the first time in this run, I have more than 20k gold--feels great!).

Look at that sweet, sweet gold count. No more hoarding my gold like an anxiety-ridden dragon. I also finally have money to buy Pale Blue Flower Seeds, which I will start planting post time skip to get SPD stat boosters for Marianne and Dimitri. Finally, I redo this week's tournament 5 times for the money. This month's final map is The Sealed Forest Snare, a map that is usually rather easy (especially compared to chapter 11!), but there are two extra beasts on this map in Maddening and I need to level up a few people, so I decide to reclass Marianne into Cavalier for this (she will gain one or two levels at most, so being in this class for one map won't hurt much) and give her another high crit battalion to whittle down as well as bows, since she will need to get Hit +20 eventually. Dimitri meanwhile works on the Fraldarius Soldiers. I send Marianne up the right, making sure to hide her in the forest since she is losing out on some of her AVO while using bows and take Dimitri to the left to clear the way so Byleth can get to the chest. Unfortunately, Marianne ends up doing so little damage with a bow, I have to switch her back to her trusty Silver Sword and Soulblade. Then again, levelling up Balthus really is the most important side objective here. Kronya actually doubles and crits Dimitri (though thankfully no double crit, so he lives). In the end, Dimitri's Fraldarius battalion gets into the 1/3 health range and Balthus reaches level 20 (although Constance sadly hasn't reached level 10 yet). Hilariously, Dimitri's crest activated when I attacked Solon... with an Iron Lance+ that had exactly 5 uses left... with a combat art that costs 5 points. Good news: it still worked--I still got the damage bonus. XD

Chapter 11:

Here we go--the last month where I can do pre-skip paralogues. My number one priority for this day is to have one more Reason training session so I can recruit Lorenz. I have to battle on two of my three Sundays in order to get the remaining 5 paralogues done, one of which is Lorenz's, so I absolutely have to recruit him in the first week. I certify Balthus into Wyvern Rider, then do my rounds and take a bunch of Faculty Training: Reason (Rhea), Brawling (Catherine), Heavy Armor (Gilbert) and Bows (Hanneman, Shamir, Anna). I recruit Alois, Ferdinand, Lorenz and Linhardt and just hope that Bernadetta will join me automatically some time this month (if not, I'll have to train more Bows next month and recruit her at the last opportunity). The best part about recruiting students so late is that they are all above level 20, so no need to level anyone for paralogues. I switch Caspar and Ferdinand to Axe and Flying and Linhardt to Lance and Riding, then have lunch with Marianne (for motivation) and Bernadetta (for support), which actually gets me to B+ support with her, so I can recruit her now as well and have her study flying. And just like that, recruitment is complete! WOOHOO!

I let Marianne use up the last 3 explore points on the magic tournament for the Advanced Seal and the money, then proceed to week 2.

I decide to do three paralogue battles this week, with the first being Falling Short of Heaven, which will give me the Shoes of the Wind, a stat booster that increases MOV by 1. Right now, Marianne is 2 MOV points behind Dimitri (he has long since passed Riding A+ for Movement +1 and he got the DLC stat booster). The sooner I can get the Shoes of the Wind to Marianne, the closer she will be to catching up. Dimitri will have to take care of the south and east side and he will have to do it fast, because:

the Bishop on the other side of the lake will continue spawning Pegasus Knights every three turns, which is a problem because:

Rhea is not nearly as durable in Maddening as she is in Normal/Hard and

I need to move Catherine, Ashe and Byleth south ASAP to get them out of the way of... everyone and everything.

For this reason, I switch their accessories this time (Marianne gets the Chalice of Beginnings, Dimitri gets the March Ring). With a Silver Sword and the Chalice, Marianne should be able to take good care of the mages. They also both get torches, since I cannot afford to risk the others lighting the way and getting hit. I give Dimitri Felix as an adjutant, so he can get to level 20 and Wyvern Rider for chapter 13, and send him east first, to bait all the southeastern Cavaliers and eastern Pegasus Knights there, while Marianne goes west with a Silver Sword to bait the southeastern Mages. On turn 2, Dimitri and Marianne kill the Bishops calling reinforcements, making the rest of the map much easier. Marianne tries to make her way back to Rhea ASAP, whereas Dimitri continues north to bait the Armored Knights and Pegasus Knighs there.

Unfortunately, Rhea doesn't even survive 3 Mages (she can join Rodrigue in the paper NPCs club), so I have to rewind to the start and bait the Mages in the forest to the northwest first (the southeastern ones won't move until provoked and the Assassins in the north won't move until turn 5). I decide to switch up Marianne's ability kit a bit, giving her a Killing Edge+, the Cichol Wyverns and Sword Crit+10 so she can hopefully crit all the mages on enemy phase. This works out so well, that I have most of the map except for the three Cavaliers and the Dark Bishop in the south cleared out by turn 5. Felix doesn't quite get to level 20, but that's ok--his paralogue is already done, he just needs to get on a wyvern some time this month. Overall, this one was much easier than I had feared. Now Marianne only needs to get Movement +1 and she will have caught up to Dimitri.

Since I'm already doing paralogues with turn limits, I decide to tackle Land of the Golden Deer next. I remember it being quite stressful trying to lure all the enemies so they don't attack Byleth/Lorenz, even on Normal/Hard, especially because 4 of them are Pegasus Knights and there is some loot to catch, so simply camping out at the fort entrance is not advisable, if you want to rout/get everything. I decide to give Marianne a Levin Sword and her March Ring, then park her and Dimitri in the forests outside the fort to lure and hopefully kill as many enemies as possible. It takes a lot of careful maneuvering, but eventually I manage to almost rout the entire map, except for Acheron and one of his mages. The bloody coward retreats before Dimitri can whack him with his Killer Lance+, but thankfully that is good enough for this paralogue. Felix is now stuck 187 EXP short of level 20, but I will not reload the paralogue just for that.

Finally, I decide to tackle The Forgotten this week, with Constance as Dimitri's adjutant. This one is not debatable, since I need to get her ready for her own paralogue in the next week. I will definitely need at least one Levin Sword for this, because the thieves carrying loot start moving on turn 4, so you have to get across the map quickly and take out those escape route commanders. Aside from that, I found it helps greatly to have Sylvain in a flying class for this, because otherwise he's hard to keep out of battle.

I send Dimitri north to take out the archers and the commander there, then make his way to the northeast, while Marianne stays in the south, beelining for the commanders. As soon as the first three commanders are down and Dimitri is in range of the fourth, I switch Marianne back to her Killing Edge+ (I can buy Black Sand Steel every month, but I only have 3 Arcane Crystals for repairing Levin Swords) and start picking off mages and other thieves. The best part is that the loot-carrying thieves won't ever attack Byleth or Sylvain (or anyone for that matter), even if they are in range. Once all the escapes routes are blocked, they gather in the northeast corner, waiting to be killed. I eventually decide to let Dimitri stand back and let Marianne handle the rest of the field, since she is three levels behind him (26 to 29).

In week 3, I tackle my remaining 2 pre-skip paralogues, starting with Black Market Scheme. This one CAN technically be done with Balthus and Hapi in their starting classes (you can carefully maneuver them into the square street in the southeast of the map and then blockade the bridge), but it is much easier if they are both in flying classes. I also make sure to bring bows, because fighting the flying demonic beast at the end of the map without it is... not fun. I put Annette as Dimitri's adjutant (she also still needs to get to level 10 and into a flying class for chapter 13) and give him a high crit battalion that is not in the red yet so I can have spares. The main trick here is to carefully maneuver my three benchers into these positions in turn 1:

... and then get them into this area ASAP:

By the time reinforcements show up, my three benchers are safely tucked away in the southeast of the map, so now it's mostly a matter of making sure to take out Mages/Warlocks and battalion users (dangerous for Dimitri) and Archers/Snipers (dangerous for Marianne) first, and then whittling the enemy down until only Baron Ochs and his two Warlocks are left alive (turn 16 this time). As a bonus, Dimitri reaches S+ in Lances during this battle.

The Baron's Warlock buddies hit hard, so I make sure to kill them on player phase. Once Baron Ochs transforms, I switch to Iron Bows+ for the bonus damage against fliers. With that and gambits, he's barely a threat. As a matter of fact, Marianne ends him with a beautiful 20% Iron Bow+ crit.

And so we get to the last pre-skip only paralogue: A Cursed Relic. Dividing the World is technically also available pre-skip, but since it won’t expire until chapter 18, I'll be happy to leave that one alone until I can forge as many Levin Swords+ as I want. For A Cursed Relic, there are three important things to keep in mind:

Yuri and Constance need to be in high MOV classes or they'll be toast (I got them onto Wyverns/Pegasuses specifically for this).

Someone needs to gambit the demonic beast near Duke Gerth, or he will Leeroy Jenkins himself on it.

Killing Myson triggers a TON of reinforcements, so you want to hold off on doing so for at least 2 or 3 turns.

After a few unsuccessful tries and a quick reset during which I gave Marianne the Swap combat art to get the Duke out of trouble, I finally manage to get him away from the beasts and into the area where Myson starts out. I thought things would be fine then, until I realized that not only does Myson have Dark Spikes (RIP Dimitri T_T), which I had to divine pulse for twice, but also Thieves and Assassins on Maddening have Pass, which makes barricading that area a LOT harder than it is in Normal/Hard. Two of them even make it into the area and transform into demonic beasts there, but thankfully Gerth lives to escape into a beast-inaccessible corner. In an effort of classic Suicidal Ally syndrome, he leaves said corner on the very next turn and nearly runs into a Dark Mage. I learn two important things about the transforming beasts here:

1. If a thief falls in a place where there is not enough room for him to transform into a beast, the beast will instead spawn in the nearest accessible location, which on this map likely is outside the canal, as seen here:

2.  The only location in the southwest of the map where there is enough space for a beast to spawn, also happens to have no entrances wide enough for a beast to pass, so this poor guy got stuck there for like... 10 turns:

I let Dimitri and Marianne take out the last few human enemies, which also gets Dimitri S+ in Riding, then heal up and tackle the four beasts on the map together with hit and run tactics. After 23 turns I think I'm finally done, only to realize that there are two Snipers left in the opposite corner of the map and I send both Dimitri and his 1/3 health battalion to wipe them out. Thus ends one of the most horrible paralogues. But hey--all my time skip paralogues are done now!

Finally, for a quick breather after all this paralogue madness, I do a double reward auxiliary battle with Marianne to get her closer to Dimitri's level and put Byleth as her adjutant. I'm not sure if the "Question of Conduct" quest will still be active in chapter 12, but if so, I want to try it, and for that I need her level to be as high as possible.

Finally, it is time for this month's mission. This is one of the hardest story maps to rout with only two people while completing the bonus objectives, but I will try. I certify Felix and Annette into flying classes before I forget it and put Linhardt as Dimitri's adjutant (he will need to get into Cavalier to survive his paralogue). As I watch the cutscenes leading up to the map, I notice an oddity in Felix's posture that will now haunt me for the rest of the run, just like Dorothea's post time skip photoshop hair. Great.

I decide to send Dimitri up the middle first, so he can take out the pesky archers and the Physic Bishop there, while Marianne goes to the left and starts killing the crest stone thieves. Dimitri reaches level 30 here, so I will hopefully be able to certify him into his final class after this (even if he is a bit shy of B+ in Faith). Somehow this battle ends up easier with Dimitri and Marianne on Maddening than it was with Felix and Annette on Hard and I don't even have to reset once.  Also, the second Knowledge Gem is now mine. Hooray! Edelgard’s reaction to nearly getting a lance to the face still remains much more relatable in this run, because there have been way too many close calls in Maddening:

Pictured above: me, whenever some swordbreaking bastard gets in range of Marianne.

Chapter 12:

I have reached the final pre-time-skip chapter! WOOHOO!! It's been a wild ride. I begin this shortest of months by certifying Dimitri into Holy Knight, repairing my weapons, and exploring the monastery one last time before the big battle. Seteth automatically joins my team now, already on a wyvern and done with his paralogue. Good man. I somehow manage to beat the Proper Conduct tournament despite being only level 18, so now my only quest left is Anna's Trade Secrets, which I will complete in the upcoming battle week. At this point I start planting pale blue flower seeds for Speed Carrots. I stock up on Smithing Stones and Black Sand Steel, then spend my last 9 activity points having lunch with pairs who have not yet reached B support, prioritizing those who have paralogues post time skip and those including characters who will be unavailable for a bit (Alois & Mercedes, Caspar & Catherine, Cyril & Ashe, Ferdinand & Bernadetta, Linhardt & Annette, Lysithea & Hanneman, Shamir & Dedue, Manuela & Lorenz), as well as Marianne and Gilbert. Side note: Marianne’s explore dialogue in this chapter in this particular run is downright hilarious:

“I’ve spent my whole life running in fear” says the girl who deleted the Death Knight in chapter 6.

For my last free day before the time skip, I decide to do auxiliary battles to harvest stat boosters and level some weapon ranks for Dimitri and Marianne. Specifically, since I could not get Dimitri to B in Flying for Alert Stance in time for the skip (which means chapter 13 is going to be ATROCIOUS), I will alternate them as fighter/adjutant with bows and Chalice/Knowledge Gem equipped, so that they can get closer to the Archer certification and (consequently) HIT +20. This will be especially important for Marianne, since the Levin Sword’s accuracy decreases with each space I am away from the enemy and being able to hit things from 2 or 3 range is the entire reason I am planning to use Levin Swords+. This works out beautifully--they both reach C in bows, so I can certify them into Archer before the skip and master Archer in the first week after. Marianne also reaches S+ in Swords. I repair my weapons, and double-check my equipment and abilities, since I am not just preparing for Battle at Garreg Mach but also Hunting at Daybreak. Specifically, I am giving Byleth four chest keys and two Concoctions to save me some inventory management in chapter 13. Dimitri gets an Iron Lance+ in addition to his 2 Killer Lances+, because having even slightly better AVO will likely help a lot with chapter 13. My final setup for chapters 12 and 13 is as follows:

And so I head into the Battle for Garreg Mach. I already know that this map can't be routed, because Edelgard will advance as soon as Randolp is defeated, who will advance as soon as the Death Knight and Hubert are defeated, and you really do not want to leave THOSE TWO alive, since they will summon endless reinforcements. I send Dimitri left to the Death Knight and Marianne right to Hubert and hope for the best. The best soon turns out to be the worst, as Marianne isn't fast enough to double, the Seiros soldiers are made of paper, and Hubert survives Marianne's crit thanks to Miracle. I reload and give her Darting Blow instead of Sword Crit +10 and try again. This unfortunately also does not work, so at this point I decide I might as well focus my attention on one area at a time. I reload with my original setup, and focus on the Death Knight first, then Ladislava, then Hubert. This plan works great until it doesn't, because if one of the flying beasts even so much as sets a toe on the conquest zone, it's game over.

At this point, I am sick and tired of this map and decide "fuck it, let's LTC it". Again, I hate doing this, and in Normal/Hard I was able to avoid LTC strategies, but on Maddening Shamir’s and Felix’s paralogues, as well as the maps of chapters 6 and 12 just really are not feasibe to rout with only 2 people. I give Marianne the Secret Transport Force battalion so she can Stride Dimitri, as well as a Killer Lance+ and Knightkneeler, because if Dimitri is going to be busy with Randolph and co., she's gonna try to take on the Death Knight. Again. This also fails, and so I decide to leave the Death Knight alone (and as a matter of fact--leave Marianne almost completely out of the battle), while Dimitri heads straight for Edelgard. He ends up fighting her at 1 HP and gets a 60% crit. First time ever that I finished this map in 3 turns, but fuck it--I just wanna be done with Maddening.

Pictured above: me after completing all pre time skip story and paralogue maps on Maddening.

And so the time skip arrives. Now I just have to cross my fingers and hope Swordbreaker will keep Dimitri alive throughout chapter 13...

#Fire Emblem: Three Houses #FE3H #FE3H DimiMari playthrough #got all the recruits and all the paralogues #but man some of those story maps are BRUTAL

[thelazyhermits]

Stoking the Fire

As I mentioned in this post, I wanted to write a drabble focused on Fortune having a vision about the All Might vs AFO fight since I figured out a way to make it happen so there wouldn’t be any extra wariness among the heroes about the summer camp.

This takes place after TABF chapter 29 but before the Two Heroes fic. I hope y’all enjoy it! ^-^

Your Quirk is very troublesome in many ways.

For starters, you have no control over it when it comes to receiving visions, so they always happen at random which can be really inconvenient at times. Although, there are also times they happen just when you need them, so you suppose you shouldn’t complain too much on that end.

One of the most annoying aspects of your Quirk is the fact that it comes with so many drawbacks. It’s seriously ridiculous how much suffering your Quirk constantly puts you through.

Sure, it somewhat makes sense when you consider how powerful your Quirk is since great powers like foresight normally come with limits, but you think your Quirk has way too many. 

It’d be one thing if you only had the drawback that prevented you from revealing the contents of some of your visions, but to also have a drawback that causes you to take the pain someone would have felt if you hadn’t intervened on their behalf and prevented them from getting injured? Truly ridiculous.

Not only that, when you use your Quirk for offensive purposes, you can only use it for a select period of time. Otherwise, you risk overworking your brain, which could result in seizures as well as horrible migraines and nosebleeds. 

A truly troublesome Quirk indeed.

And unfortunately for you, there’s one other troublesome aspect of your Quirk that you oftentimes forget about since it doesn’t happen very often.

Sometimes, for reasons unknown to you, your Quirk gives you visions while you’re asleep.

The reason this is problematic is because sometimes it’s difficult for you to tell if you had a vision or if it was just a dream. Not only that, you never can tell when exactly the events of these particular visions occur unlike how you usually can with the visions you get when you’re awake.

While it’s not unusual for you to not be able to tell the exact date and time an event will happen, you can usually tell if it will be a few days or months away, but when it comes to visions that occur while you’re asleep, you can’t tell what the timeline is at all for whatever reason. 

That’s why you hate getting those kinds of visions since it drives you crazy knowing that something is going to happen but having no idea when it will occur, especially when the events of said visions are very worrisome.

Like what you see in the vision you get a week before summer break starts. 

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

As soon as the vision comes to an end, you wake with a loud gasp and quickly pull yourself into a seated position. While you take a moment to calm down, you brush the back of your hand against your forehead to wipe away the sweat clinging to your skin. 

Once you’ve steadied your breathing and your heart is no longer pounding frantically in your chest, you mentally go over what you just witnessed while you were asleep. 

It was a battle but not just any kind of battle. It was a fight between All Might and All For One himself. 

There’s no way that was just a dream. It had to have been my Quirk at work.

That’s what your gut is telling you, so that’s what you’re going to believe since you can’t afford to write off something as important as this. 

You drag a hand down your face. Unfortunately, that vision didn’t give me a lot to go on since it didn’t even show me the full battle, just bits and pieces of it. I couldn’t even tell where those two were since I didn’t get a good look at their surroundings. It just looked like a typical battlefield that came to be after a section of a town got torn apart thanks to the fighters’ Quirks.

So, not only do you not know when this battle will happen, you have no idea where it will happen. Great, just great.

To make matters worse, All Might didn’t appear to be looking too good in that battle. Of course, you suppose that’s to be expected, considering he no longer has OFA and is only fighting using the remaining embers of his old Quirk.

However, despite that and All For One’s taunts, the number one hero didn’t look like he had any intention to give up. No, he was still fighting hard for the sake of everyone who was counting on him to win this all important battle. 

Unfortunately, All For One had a trick up his sleeve to shake All Might’s resolve.

“Shigaraki Tomura is Shimura Nana’s grandson.”

When All For One dropped that bombshell, you had first thought he was lying, but you quickly realized that that was something the villain would absolutely do. So, you’re sure he was telling the truth no matter how much you don’t want to believe it.

Poor All Might looked absolutely devastated by the news, not that you can blame him. His mentor was someone who was near and dear to him, so of course, it would hurt to hear that All For One was able to find her grandson and use him in his evil schemes. 

Fortunately, that news didn’t break All Might like All For One was aiming to do, so even though your vision didn’t show you how the battle ended, you’re sure that All Might continued to fight his nemesis with all his heart and soul.

That’s why you’re not worried about the outcome of the battle, because you know All Might will win. You have complete faith in him. There’s no way he’ll lose. 

Still, you do think you should tell him about your vision, so he’ll be prepared for what’s to come. A warning probably won’t do much in the grand scheme of things, especially since there isn’t much you can actually tell him that would be useful to him, but you still think you should let him know what’s in store for his future.

And maybe if you tell him the news about Shigaraki, you can give him the time he needs to come to terms with that information, so All For One can’t use it against All Might in their fated battle.

Just that alone would make telling All Might about your vision worth it since there’s nothing more you’d love to do than to throw a wrench in All For One’s plans. 

Your hands clench into tight fists. I won’t allow you to hurt All Might like that and use his suffering for your gain, All For One. I won’t let you do as you please.

That’s a promise.

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

After homeroom, you contact All Might and ask for him to privately meet with you, so the two of you can discuss the vision you had last night. 

Briefly, you had considered asking Aizawa and Nedzu to also join the two of you, but you figured you should talk to All Might first and foremost. And you wanted to do that privately because of the matter with Shigaraki since you’re sure that’s what All Might would prefer.

That’s why you later find yourself in a private room, sipping tea with All Might who returned to his true form once the coast was clear. 

“To request a meeting like this, you must have seen quite the vision.” Yagi remarks, “Is it pertaining specifically to me, or is it about Young Midoriya?”

“It’s just about you.” You answer before later adding, “And All For One.”

His expression darkens. “I see. In that case, I can only imagine that you’re here to tell me that I will fight against that man again.”

As expected of the number one hero, he’s incredibly perceptive, which is to your benefit since it saves you time explaining things. Although, ironically enough, this is the one occasion where you don’t actually need that kind of help since this vision is apparently one you can talk about without having to worry about your drawback., probably because you don’t actually have any worthwhile information that could result in changing the future.

You nod, “Unfortunately, I had this vision while I was asleep, so I can’t tell you when the two of you will have your fated battle. For some reason, I’m never able to provide a timeline for those particular visions.”

A sigh escapes you. “I also don’t know where that battle will be since my vision didn’t really show me much of your surroundings. It looked like you were in a part of a town that got destroyed by the battle, but it could literally be anywhere.”

“I can’t even tell you how the fight turns out since my vision only showed me certain parts of the battle and didn’t even let me see the end of it.”  You frown, “I’m sorry, Yagi-san. I wish I could be more helpful.”

He reaches across the table to pat your shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize, Y/N-kun. It is not your fault that your Quirk picks and chooses what it shows you.”

“Even if I don’t know when or where the battle will happen, I still appreciate the confirmation that such a battle will occur within the next year since I knew it was only a matter of time.” Yagi adds.

The corners of his lips curve upwards. “Your news is actually encouraging since, if you couldn’t tell who the clear winner would be, that means that I will be able to put up a good fight despite no longer possessing OFA.”

Your eyes widen. “I see what you mean. The more time passes, the less likely you’ll be able to continue using OFA since you’re currently just using the remaining embers. So, since you were still able to hold your own against All For One, then…”

“Then, it’s likely the battle won’t be a full year from now.” Yagi picks up where you left off. “While I intend to hold out for as long as I can for the sake of the public, I know it would be foolish of me to truly believe I can continue as I am with mere embers of my former Quirk for a long period of time, even though I would like nothing more than to remain the Symbol of Peace until I can pass along my mantle to Young Midoriya.”

Remembering the state he was in in your vision, you frown, “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be able to continue working as All Might after that battle, Yagi-san. It’ll push you to your very limits - to the point where you won’t even be able to maintain your muscle form.”

The blond sighs, “I can’t say I’m surprised, considering how strong All For One is and how I am not as strong as I was during our last battle.”

His expression turns determined. “But I am alright with that result as long as I can stop All For One once and for all. If my last act as a pro hero is defeating him, I will have no regrets.”

Yagi clenches his hands into fists. “I failed to stop him last time, but I won’t this time. No matter what it takes, I will put an end to his tyranny once and for all.”

For some reason, when you hear him say, “No matter what it takes”, you get an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. 

Probably because, to you, it sounds like, “Even if it costs me my life.”

At that moment, you suddenly find yourself thinking back to the vision you had of the events following All Might’s last battle with All For One. You remember seeing his worn out appearance and how Nighteye had tried to get the number one hero to retire. 

You recall how Nighteye foresaw All Might’s death, and that painful feeling in your chest grows stronger. What if...What if….?

What if the vision you had is of the future that Nighteye saw?

You give yourself a quick mental shake. No, there should still be some time before the events that Nighteye foresaw happen. Considering Yagi-san will be strong enough to fight All For One, it’s doubtful that a full year will pass before that battle, and Nighteye predicted that the future he saw should happen within one to two years from now. So, there’s no way he’ll die in the battle I saw.

…right?

 “Y/N-kun? Are you alright?”

It’s the sound of Yagi’s concerned voice that draws you out of your worrisome thoughts.

Immediately, you lift your gaze to meet his, and as soon as you do, you ask, without thinking, “Does ‘no matter what it takes’ mean that you’re willing to die if necessary?”

Yagi freezes at your words before quickly averting his gaze. Rather than say anything, he just goes quiet as he tightly clasps his hands, but you don’t need a verbal response since that reaction is all you needed to see to know what his answer to your question is.

Of course, you’re not surprised since the number one hero is no stranger to self-sacrifice. Ever since your Quirk started showing you visions about All Might, you’ve witnessed firsthand how many times he has sacrificed his time and wellbeing for the sake of others, because he felt it was his duty as the Symbol of Peace.

It’s a trait of his that you both admire and hate, because, while he only ever has good intentions, it hurts you to see him treat himself with so little regard. Why must he constantly put such burdens on his shoulders? Why can’t he allow himself to get the rest he deserves?

Why does he have to do everything alone?

At that moment, your thoughts suddenly turn toward Midoriya who is sure to follow in his mentor’s footsteps since he’s so much like the number one hero. Honestly, you’d say your student is even worse when it comes to self-sacrifice because of all the years of bullying which led to him having such low self worth.

If Midoriya was in All Might’s shoes right now, you have no doubt that he wouldn’t hesitate to throw away his life if he thought it would be for the “better good”.

And that terrifies you more than words can describe.

That’s why you can’t let this horrible cycle continue. You have to do something for Yagi’s sake and for Midoriya’s.

So, that’s exactly what you do.

“You can’t die, Yagi-san, not when you still have so much to teach Midoriya.”

Briefly, Yagi looks at you in surprise, and then, his expression becomes pained. “The last thing I want is to leave Young Midoriya without a mentor, especially so early in his journey to become a hero, but-”

“But nothing!” You cut him off. “If you want to guide him, then do it! Don’t let anything get in the way, not even death!”

Your hands clench into fists. “Midoriya still needs you, Yagi-san, not just as his hero but as his mentor. You need to be there for him since there are things that only you can do for him. Your role in his life is irreplaceable.”

“So, please don’t accept dying so easily!” You plead with tears in your eyes. “Not when you have a successor who’s depending on you and so many people who care about you, not because you’re the number one hero but because you’re you! Please treasure yourself more!”

His eyes widen. “Y/N-kun…”

As you’re scrubbing your eyes, Yagi takes a moment to consider your words, and then, his expression softens. “I’m sorry, Y/N-kun. You’re right. Death is not an alternative that I should be so willingly to accept. That’s unfair to you, Young Midoriya, and everyone else who I have been so fortunate to receive love from.”

“I’m no longer just All Might the hero. I’m also All Might the UA teacher and Young Midoriya’s mentor.” He continues, “As Principal Nedzu has told me in the past, I cannot give one job more attention than the rest. I am equally responsible for all of them, so it would be remiss of me to forget that just for the sake of defeating All For One.”

His eyes gain a determined glint as his hands clench into fists. “That’s why, if death tries to sink its claws into me in this upcoming battle, I will fight back with everything I have. I won’t allow Young Midoriya to lose his mentor, especially when I still have so much to teach him, and I won’t cause you, my other students, or anyone else undeserved pain with my death. I’ll keep fighting no matter what.”

Relief washes over you like a tidal wave, causing you to slump back in your seat. Seeing this, Yagi gives you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Y/N-kun. I always seem to be causing you a lot of undeserved stress.”

“If you don’t wanna cause me stress, then take care of yourself, so I don’t have to worry about you.” You huff, “And make sure Midoriya learns how important that lesson is too. Honestly, you’re both way too self-sacrificial…”

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “I suppose you make a fair point. I promise to be more careful on that end for both my sake and Young Midoriya’s since the last thing I want is to be a bad influence.”

Considering how Midoriya currently is, you think the damage has already been done, but you don’t say as much since there’s still time for things to change for the better.

Instead, you just reach for your teacup and drink the rest of your tea, which has unsurprisingly gone cold due to you completely forgetting about it during your and Yagi’s discussion.

That’s why Yagi decides to pour a fresh batch of tea for the two of you. As he’s doing this, you remember that there’s still something else that you need to tell him. 

“Shigaraki Tomura is Shimura Nana’s grandson.”

You’ve been putting it off since it’s not an easy subject to bring up, and you honestly would rather talk about anything else. However, for Yagi’s sake, you need to do it.

Finding your resolve, you take a deep breath and slowly release it. “As I mentioned before, I didn’t see the whole battle, just bits and pieces, so there wasn’t much to glean from my vision. However, there is one particular moment that stood out to me.”

When Yagi’s curious gaze falls on you, you clench your hands into fists. “All For One revealed something horrible that he did, something that will only cause you pain to know about, but I thought if I told you now that he couldn’t use it against you in the battle like he did in my vision.”

A deep frown forms on his lips. “It must be quite horrible indeed for you to look so upset. Although, I can’t say I am surprised since that sounds just like something All For One would do.”

“It’s worse than anything you could imagine, Yagi-san.” You bite your lip. “All For One really hit where he knew you would be hurt the most.”

After the number one hero gestures for you to continue, you take another deep breath before quietly revealing, “Shigaraki is your mentor’s grandson.”

Just like in your vision, Yagi completely freezes as horror slowly dawns his features. “No...it can’t be…”

“I wanted to believe it was a lie just as much as you, Yagi-san,” You sadly reply, “but we both know this is just the kind of thing All For One wouldn’t hesitate to do. That’s why I think he was telling the truth.”

Yagi lets his face fall into his hands. “Yes, you’re right. That’s just the kind of diabolical thing he would do.”

“Master had hidden her son away specifically to avoid this from happening, but it would seem her efforts were for naught.” Yagi trembles. “I’m so sorry, Master. If only I had known…”

Your expression softens. “It’s not your fault, Yagi-san, and I’m sure your mentor would agree. After all, she was the one who asked you and Gran Torino not to go looking for her son, right? You were just respecting her wishes.”

“Even so, I deeply regret that decision.” He sighs, “I should have considered the possibility of All For One finding a way to track down her family and made arrangements so that they would always be protected from him. I should’ve known better than to assume that All For One wouldn’t be able to find them.”

Unfortunately, it looks like you won’t be able to absolve Yagi of this guilt despite how much you want to. No doubt this will be something that will remain with him for the rest of his life.

As you frown at that thought, Yagi pulls his hands away from his face. “Thank you for telling me about Shigaraki, Y/N-kun. I’m sure it was a subject you would have preferred to not discuss, but you did it for my sake, which I am very grateful for. Like you said, it’s far better that I learn this horrid truth here rather than on the battlefield. ”

You frown worriedly. “Will you be alright?”

He forces a smile. “Yes, you don’t need to worry about me. It’s true that this news was a horrible blow, but I won’t let myself give in, especially not after I just promised to overcome everything that’s thrown my way.”

His smile falls. “Dealing with Shigaraki from here on out will not be easy, but for my master’s sake, I won’t fold. I won’t allow him to continue down the path All For One set him on. I will do everything I can to ensure he cannot commit any more crimes.”

Hopefully, things won’t come to that since you know fighting Shigaraki would be incredibly painful for Yagi. That’s why you think it would be better if another hero was in charge of stopping Shigaraki, especially considering how much the villain hates the number one hero.

Of course, you don’t say as much. Instead, you just keep those thoughts to yourself and enjoy the fresh batch of tea that Yagi later pours for you once it’s ready.

As you’re both enjoying the tea, you provide as many details about your vision as you can that you think could be helpful, which mostly entails talking about All For One’s Quirks in hopes that that’ll help Yagi in the long run.

Once that discussion concludes, you decide to take advantage of this private time with Yagi to ask a question that’s been on your mind for a while now. “Yagi-san, do you ever intend to tell Midoriya about the future Nighteye foresaw?”

Yagi quickly averts his gaze. “I didn’t think that would be necessary….”

A sigh escapes you. “As I thought. Honestly, you keep way too many secrets from him. It’ll come back to bite you one day, you know.”

You wag your finger at him. “As your successor, Midoriya has a right to know about those secrets, especially the ones about your predicted death and Togata Mirio. Those are not the kinds of things he should be learning from anyone but you.”

He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “I suppose you make a good point, but if we can avoid him finding out at all…”

“Fat chance of that happening.” You huff, “He’ll find out everything eventually, Yagi-san. It’s only a matter of time.”

When he remains unconvinced, you add, “Just give what I said some thought. I’m not saying you have to talk to him right now, but at least, consider doing it in the near future.”

The blond reluctantly nods, “Very well. It is true that you make an excellent point, so I should, at least, try to give the matter some more thought.”

Once that matter is addressed and Yagi returns to his muscle form, the two of you decide to leave the room, so you both return to your regular duties.

As the two of you are walking, you remember one last thing you need to say to the number one hero. “All Might.”

When he turns to look at you, you smile, “I believe in you with all my heart. I know there’s nothing you can’t do if you set your mind to it, so if you say you’ll win, I know that’s exactly what will happen.” “That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to feel as worried as I should have when I saw that vision.” You add, “Because I could tell just from looking at you that you had no intention to lose despite everything All For One was putting you through.”

Your smile grows. “Someone like you could never lose to someone like him. No matter what he says, he’s no match for you. I’ve always believed that and always will.”

Surprise briefly dawns his features before that trademark grin of his that you love appears. “Thank you. I promise I will live up to those high expectations of yours.”

“I know you will.” You fondly reply, “You always do.”

#TABF #TABF missing scene #my writing #yagi toshinori #all might #it felt good to properly address this fight #in a way that wouldn't ruin the chances of the summer camp attack happening #plus it gave all might the encouragement he would need #and fortune got to give AFO a big screw you by ruining one of his plans lol #I also wanted to have fortune talk about nighteye and mirio #to reference the changes I made to chapter 41 #also I went back and edited TABF #to show fortune recognizing mirio as a previous candidate for OFA #in the chapter when fortune looks at his profile #and the chapter when tamaki brings him up while he's eating lunch with fortune #they're minor changes #but I wanted to show that fortune did know who he was #I just didn't do it when I first wrote the fic #cause that would mean including what would have been spoilers at the time #I've also edited chapter 34 to show references to this convo #they're minor but definitely there

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 6 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“When’s your birthday, Sasuke?” Naruto asked unprompted. He was eating an onigiri in one hand and writing in a notebook with another. “Captain Haru gave me a journal and told me to fill in the dates.”

“Why are you treating it like a slam book?”

“What’s a slam book? Why are you even changing the topic?”

“July 23.”

Naruto went silent for a moment as he jotted down Sasuke’s name. “Oh, last week? During our sleepover?”

“You mean, hostage sleepover.”

“Ah shit. We didn’t get you a present. Sorry, grumpy.” Naruto’s face was sincerely apologetic and Sasuke was on the verge of nonchalantly assuring him that it was all right when he heard his following reply. “But make sure you get me one okay. It will be on October 10.”

“I wish I was allowed to physically harm you right now but your training next week will suffice,” Sasuke jested right back. “I’ll put in a word with Haru to make you suffer.” He would have said more clapbacks if they didn’t hear loud footsteps running their way.

Their two heads popped just a few inches above the bushes that lined behind the fence and saw a disheveled Sakura catching her breath with bent knees and her arms full of folders. Sasuke surmised she might have come from a council meeting.

“It’s Sakura – “ Sasuke covered Naruto’s loud mouth with his palm.

Her phone rang inside her skirt’s pockets, and her expression panicked when she saw the caller id. The folders fumbled out of her grasp when she answered it. “Oh hello, Kakashi-sensei.”

Both the boys’ brows raised in curiosity when her voice went a pitch higher.

“Ah, I’m actually out of the campus right now, Sensei. Got an errand to run. I’ll see you for consultations…..soon?” Then she ended the call. They all heard another set of footsteps nearing their location, and Sakura repeatedly said I’m screwed to herself.

Naruto wrestled out of Sasuke’s headlock and pulled a surprised Sakura inside their hiding place. The latter grumbled but quickly gathered the folders from the ground and followed suit. Three heads now looked over the bushes, and true enough, Kakashi appeared in the clearing with his phone in his hand. “That’s funny. I thought I heard her voice here.”

When they were sure he was out of their sight and earshot, Sasuke signaled a thumbs up, and Naruto, not missing a beat, started with the obvious question. “Why are you hiding from our mathematics teacher?”

Sakura blushed with intensity, her cheeks the color of cherry tomatoes with a ripeness Sasuke liked the most. She flushed so intensely she couldn’t hide it for her sake. The thought of wanting to have that kind of privilege crossed his mind. “Uh, he wanted a report from me, but I wasn’t able to finish it.” Like the self-aware person that she was, she immediately got her bearings and recognized the place. “This is behind the library.”

“It’s Sasuke’s favorite hiding place until I barged in. And now, it’s yours too.” Naruto grinned at her even when he just revealed this place’s existence to their student council president.

“Shouldn’t you be asking me permission first?” Sasuke arranged the folders first before returning them to Sakura who seemed to calm down a bit.

She laughed dryly. “Technically, it’s public property so we don’t need your permission…grumpy.”

Naruto erupted in laughter while Sasuke closed his eyes in annoyance. Two loud-mouths in what was supposed to be in his safe space and yet all he felt was just mild annoyance. Stopping his thoughts before they ran him aground, he rummaged through their storage bin and found an extra sandwich he bought this morning and the last pack of his cherry tomato juice.

He passed the food to her and gave her a little bit of scolding. “At least have your lunch first before making fun of me.”

“You’re really giving her a tomato juice?” Naruto never could hide his disgust for certain food. “Don’t tell me this is your rite of passage.”

Sasuke glared at the blonde, forcing him to shut up. “Bring any more people here, and I’ll tell your captain to drag you to hell.” That wasn’t so difficult, given that Haru has taken a liking to him, for what he didn’t know. He just treated him like a big brother would, like Itachi would.

Sakura took a sip in the middle of their banter, and she emitted a surprised sound. “So this is what it tasted like? It’s actually good.”

That was the first time someone liked what he liked, and he vaguely realized he was waiting for her opinion. With that, he had trouble suppressing the smile that started to form on his face, so he looked away and mustered his focus on the nearby yells of a practicing dragonboat team.

“Oh, I forgot, belated happy birthday Sasuke.”

He strengthened his resolve not to turn his head just as quickly because he was sure the shock was visible in his face. He was so taken aback he didn’t hear Naruto ask Sakura where she learned of it.

“I came across our class records during the meeting and saw the date. Sucks we weren’t able to get you a present. Anyway, I gotta run. I have another presentation to the principal for a personal project.” Sakura finished off her sandwich in one bite and ran out of the secluded space.

Naruto stared after her disappearing figure, the bunched-up juice carton and sandwich wrapper in his hands. “I should make her a decent lunch sometime. I don’t think she’s eating well.”

But Sasuke had another observation in mind. “Why didn’t you ask for her birthday?”

“I know already. I asked Hinata about it.”

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

Sakura tried to catch up with the baseball captain in the seniors’ hallways before she would lose him to his after classes dates with Hinata. “Haru, wait up please.”

His brown hair has grown longer to hide his undercut which Naruto wanted to replicate as he often mentioned in between their conversations in classes. It was actually a wonder how the usually demure Hinata gravitated towards Haru who had a strong personality. His annoyed gaze softened when he realized it was her calling him, his smile turning into a wide grin as she raced through the halls.

“No running, Ms. President,” he chided.

Sakura playfully punched his shoulder, her fist’s impact light as she struggled to catch her breath. “Can I at least have some of your time? I promise I won’t take long.”

The captain’s face took on an incredulous look. “How the tables have turned.”

They found themselves on a rooftop, away from the incidental eavesdroppers (if there were any), and moreover they needed some quiet space to talk about important matters. The first of which was the baseball team’s finances.

“I gotta hand this to you rather straightforwardly. The board didn’t foresee your qualification in the preliminaries hence they didn’t allot a big budget for your team – not for training, not for travel expenses, not for uniforms, and miscellaneous expenses.” He towered over her, her height a third short from his shoulders, but when he hunched them forward and leaned against the railings, he was almost shoulder to shoulder with her. “So what are your plans?”

Back in junior high, he would often ruffle her hair out of her immaculate ponytail, and this closeness wasn’t really odd because they were from the same town and grew on the same block. Distance just crept in as they made more friends and entered different circles.

“My personal savings,” Haru simply replied. “Our coach will chip in half of our projected expenses so we’re good to go.”

Sakura sighed. “As always, you don’t like to rely on anyone.”

“We’re not really too far from each other, Sakura. So what’s your plan anyway?” Haru turned with his back this time against the railing.

“Pass-the-Hat.”

Haru nodded. “And your savings.”

Sakura shook her head vehemently. “Hell no.”

“Gears are turning in your head, and I can see you’ll fill in a part with your savings. Stop it, Haruno.”

“I’m telling you, I won’t give you a part of my savings. Anyway – “

“Anyway? There’s more?” Haru hastily looked at his watch to check the time, almost formed a reply, and thought better of it, hiding his wrist from his view.

“I saw your career sheet form. You know you could always try to apply for an athletic scholarship, right?” If she can hazard a guess, Haru may not be planning at all to proceed to college. He always has his father’s fishing business to take over back in their town.

“No association would vet for a player who only qualified for prelims on his senior year.” Haru playfully ruffled her hair, the gesture she thought was once forgotten between them. “So don’t feel sorry for me. I already have Hinata to deal with.”

“You sound so pessimistic when you’re just going away for a year until she decides to follow you. Your story’s almost like a fairytale,” Sakura scoffed.

“First of all, long distance relationships don’t work and second and last of all, there’s her father to think about.” Haru let out a long sigh. “Believe me, Sakura, I want to make it work, but I feel like the distance between us had already set in even before I go.”

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

Haru was right. While Pass-the-Hat garnered lots of amounts enough to shoulder the logistics of the training of the baseball team before the semis, there wasn’t enough to pay for their new equipment. She could ask the teachers, but she knew Haru and the coach have already asked for prior favors. At the last minute before the trip got cancelled, Sakura anonymously put in two-thirds of her savings into the donations pool which the captain got wind of and somehow reached Kakashi.

While she was successful in avoiding him for the first few days of the school trip while Naruto and his team was in Fukuoka, he caught her alone as she was reading the markers outside the walls of a castle.

“Haruno Sakura.” His voice startled her. She turned around, like a good student that she was, and waved a bit too enthusiastically. “Mind telling me why you won’t talk to me outside of our council meetings? Did I say any directive that offended you or overworked you? I need to have an open communication with you kids.”

Kids. “Ah, I was just a little busy these past weeks,” Sakura assured him. She nervously fidgeted with his rubber band that was still on her wrist. His eyes followed her movements, and she hid them quickly behind her back, afraid of what he would say if he realized.

“I heard from the principal that he greenlighted your personal project, and that you will be presenting this to the board next week for a possible funding. You accomplished that on top of the feats you pulled to bring the baseball team to the semis.” As Kakashi recounted her accomplishments, she couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks. She was finding it difficult to say an excuse right now. “So I’m returning your personal donation.”

Sakura stared at him directly, never mind the raven irises that drowned her in undivided attention. “What?” He smiled, highlighting even more his mole, and she gasped, breathless at the sight.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over these things. You’re too young for this. I’ll have the funds downloaded to your bank, all right.” Kakashi patted her head softly and disappeared in the meandering crowds.

She slapped the rubber band against the thin skin of her wrist repeatedly. She didn’t know whether she should feel grateful that her savings were back or feel angry that she was patronized because of her age. Didn’t Kakashi know that teenagers grow up faster than their actual age and that she had every right to worry her pretty head? When will he start seeing her as she was?

Her self-deprecating thoughts ran awry when someone took hold of her wrist that has gone red from the slap of the rubber band.

For someone who alternated between being grim-faced or stoic, Sasuke’s hand was gentle and kind. She knew that ever since she saw him in the café, all the good things in him seeping out through cracks in his wall. Right now, she knew he was worried about the supportless baseball team.

“They’re losing, aren’t they?” Sakura suppressed the overwhelming emotions from her earlier interaction with Kakashi and concocted a plan in her head.

She coordinated with the guides and had them add a stop at the baseball field at Fukuoka for one last hurrah for the team.

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

Thirty minutes later, their school witnessed how the top teams decimated Naruto’s team. No innings won, batters relentless, and Haru got injured. Sakura, sensing the dampened atmosphere among the student body, rallied yells, earning surprised looks from the team members.

Through the crowds, Sasuke saw Hinata, her fingers twirling the ends of her long braid, and her eyes scanning the place for her boyfriend…until her gaze shifted to Naruto. He traversed the space to stand beside her, breaking his own rule to remain uninvolved in other people’s affairs.

But he owed this to Naruto and Haru who never failed to include him in after practice dinners and effectively kept the gaping depression in his apartment away.

“Your boyfriend has a broken arm, but you’re looking at Naruto.” He said, even before he could announce his presence to her.

Hinata turned her face to him and repeated his words. “My boyfriend has a broken arm but I cannot look at broken limbs for too long. Thanks for pointing that out.”

“There’s a second statement after my but.”

“Hmm, my eyes just probably gravitated to him unknowingly. But it couldn’t be helped, right? He just has this bright, sunshine energy.” Hinata shrugged, seemingly confused by her words as well.

Sasuke wanted to prod more but her eyes narrowed at something behind him. When he glanced back, he saw Sakura stood in tiptoes as she hugged a downtrodden Naruto. If he wasn’t so sad, he would have blushed and awkwardly pushed his crush away, but for this instance, he choked back his sobs and eventually cried on her shoulder.

“Maybe the student council can also support other teams which are gearing up for nationals. You may suffer backlash if favoritism becomes obvious.”

He scoffed at Hinata’s advice. “I’ll tell our student council president that.”

Sasuke made his way to the blonde and pinkette, his arms engulfing both of their heads in a very rare hug. He felt Sakura stiffen beneath him while Naruto changed shoulders and cried openly against Sasuke’s shirt.

This he didn’t mind, as long as both of their faces were hidden from her view.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 7

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #narusaku #uzumaki naruto #kakasaku #hatake kakashi #hinata i will redeem you soon but for now you're a menace love you

[freebooter4ever]

Sequel to Caboose

@s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r requested “desperate train sex” after reading this slightly enemies to lovers fic about Eugene building up the sexual tension with Snafu on the Caboose during their train ride home. The first part of this next chapter is all awkward feelings and shower sex on a train. I might have made it a tad over dramatic, you’ll have to let me know. The very end part with the parrot has already been posted here but I thought I would repost it all together. Read on to let Snafu and Gene finally resolve that tension!

Snafu lies on the floor of the caboose deck for longer than he probably should. He feels drained, and he's desperately waiting, hoping for Eugene to return.

Eugene doesn't return.

Snafu drags himself off the floor, and finally goes inside alone.

"You okay, Snaf?" Burgie asks when Snafu slinks into the seat opposite him, "You disappeared for a bit there."

Snafu sneaks a quick look at the culprit he's sitting beside.

Eugene refuses to make eye contact and conspires to appear completely innocent. As if Snafu isn't still wearing the taste of whatever lip balm Eugene uses.

"I'm fine," Snafu mumbles. He 'accidentally' kicks Eugene's foot when he settles into his seat.

Eugene doesn't even glance up from his journal.

"What're you writing?" Snafu asks him. Snafu swipes his tongue across his bottom lip. The residue there is sticky, and sweet.

"A letter," Eugene blatantly lies. He stares at Snafu's tongue for a minute too long.

"You're writing a letter in a journal?" Snafu asks, "What are you gonna do...rip the pages out when you're done or something? Or mail the whole book?"

"Leave me alone, Snafu," Eugene sighs.

"Leave you alone, leave the girls alone…is there anyone I'm allowed to talk to?" Snafu prods.

This question is what drives Eugene to finally make eye contact with Snafu. And when he does, he glares.

Snafu grins in return and sinks further into his seat. He stares idly out the window for a minute, but Eugene's pen going 'scritch scritch scritch' in the corner of his vision is too distracting. Of course Eugene would claim the window seat and spend the time scribbling away.

"I can't look out the window with you writing like that," Snafu complains.

"I'm not gonna stop writing," Eugene snaps, "So quit your complaining."

"You could at least give me the window seat, so I could enjoy the view uninterrupted," Snafu points out.

"I need the window for better light," Eugene argues.

"Your eyes already going bad, old man?" Snafu grins.

"I'm two years younger than you…" Eugene sighs.

"Yeah but I don't do all that reading," Snafu says wisely, "They say reading destroys your eyesight."

"That's a myth," Eugene claims, "As bad as your heebie-jeebies."

"Says who?" Snafu lifts his chin in defiance.

"My father's a doctor, Snafu," Eugene sighs again.

"Yeah, an internist," Snafu says, "Not an eye doctor."

Eugene looks sharp at him again.

"See, told ya I pay attention to all your ramblings," Snafu shakes his head gravely.

"I'm not giving you the window seat," Eugene concludes stubbornly.

Snafu opens his mouth to start the argument again but Burgie interrupts him first.

"Snafu there is a perfectly good window seat right here beside me," Burgie pats the bench next to him, "You don't need to antagonize Eugene."

Both Snafu and Eugene abruptly turn guiltily towards Burgie after he drops that particular word.  Earlier Eugene had accused Snafu of antagonizing every girl on the train. And now here Snafu is again...antagonizing Eugene. Snafu shuts up, feeling caught. He eyes Eugene furtively and watches Eugene's face go from shock to embarrassment. Eugene is clearly realizing that he could be considered one of "Snafu's girls".

Of course, Eugene is easily the most feisty out of anyone Snafu has met...ever. Eugene's got the best reactions to Snafu riling him up. Not that Snafu can openly tell Gene this with Burgie sitting right there.

"He's not antagonizing me," Eugene insists quietly and then buries his nose back in his journal.

"I'm good. Sitting here," Snafu agrees with a shrug, "Don't need to move." And he pushes further into his seat, as if he can become an immovable part of the cushion.

Except Snafu is not 'good'. Snafu is restless. Eugene is there beside him...all stiff and sitting properly, his beautifully long neck arched like a swan, with singular focus on his writing. Snaf is barely two inches away, but is unable to touch him. He wants to run his mouth up that neck. And now that Snafu knows exactly how pliant Eugene's stupid thin lips are, he finds them impossible to resist.

Imagine being able to spend the whole train ride making out. Three whole days, with nothing to do but kiss Gene. Snafu closes his eyes and briefly indulges in this fantasy. Then Eugene coughs and shifts restlessly in his seat till his thigh budges up against Snafu's and Snafu is drawn out of his idle daydreams.

Clearly he's not the only one itching over not being able to touch.

Snafu starts jiggling his leg up and down involuntarily. He runs a hand through his hair, forgetting that he had styled it earlier. His hand comes out slightly wet and he can feel his hair poke out at odd angles.

'Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle,' goes Snafu's anxious knee.

Eugene's hand clamps down on Snafu's thigh and forces Snafu's foot flat to the ground. He effectively stops the jiggling.

They stare at each other as if both of them are surprised that Eugene had the gall to do that.

Burgie clears his throat.

Snafu hastily stands from his seat and knocks Eugene's hand off.

"Gonna sit by the window," Snafu explains and he scoots between Burgie's and Eugene's legs to sit in the spot across from Eugene. Maybe if he can stare at Eugene longingly with an unobstructed view, it will calm his need to touch.

Snafu lasts for all of five minutes before he realizes the view only makes it worse.

Eugene keeps glancing at Snafu from under his eyelashes in between fevered writing stints, so Snafu knows he really, really isn't the only one having this problem.

Snafu decides to solve it with a nap. He wiggles out of his jacket and props it against the window as a pillow.

"Why move to the window if you're only going to sleep rather than enjoy the view?" Eugene asks snidely.

Snafu glares at him and sits upright again. "Too damn cold against the glass, anyway," Snafu says. He looks around the car, desperate for an idea - something, anything.

Meanwhile Burgie peacefully reads his book, oblivious.

In a fit of inspiration, Snafu notes that everywhere in the passenger car Marines are sleeping on one another haphazardly. He doesn't know why he didn't think of this earlier. Eugene's used Snafu as a pillow plenty of times before, and Snafu's slept on Burgie more times than he can count.

Snafu shoots up from his seat. "Need a nap," he says and scoots back through Burgie and Eugene's legs. He plops down next to Eugene and shoves his wadded jacket into the crook of Eugene's neck. Then, before Eugene can protest, Snafu leans against the other guy, lays his head down on Eugene's shoulder, and pretends to go to sleep.

Burgie continues to read quietly.

"It's cold," Snafu whines and snuggles closer into Eugene's side. His hand slips enough that his pinky makes contact with Eugene's belt. Snafu wants to dig underneath that belt and push his fingers possessively inside Eugene's pants, and fall asleep like that, just because he can. Because Eugene would let him.

"I thought you were boiling hot?" Eugene reminds him.

Snafu glares at him. Whose side is he on, anyway?

Burgie hops up, grabs a blanket from the overhead rack, and tosses it at Snafu's head. "Sleep," Burgie orders, "Maybe then we will have some peace."

Snafu gratefully catches the blanket and throws it over himself. A corner of the blanket lands across Eugene's journal.

Eugene sighs heavily. He twitches the blanket away.

But that leaves a gap for cold air to seep through. Snafu twitches the blanket back in place.

"Well," Eugene says with resignation, "Guess we are napping now." He neatly stows away his journal and tugs the blanket to cover himself as well.

Securely hidden under the blanket, Snafu reaches blindly for Gene's hands. Eugene reaches back and they find each other somewhere around Eugene's left thigh. They twine their hands together and hold on tight.

There's no questioning, there's no shyness when they grab hold. Each of them knew exactly what the other wanted. That calming, quiet security of knowing the other person is feeling equally as much. Too much to hold it all in. Every bit of Snafu's riled up emotions are pouring into Eugene through his hands, and Snafu swears he can feel Eugene's coming back to him.

Eugene settles his head against the seat with a contented sigh, looking relaxed for the first time since Snafu sat down. Snafu cautiously looks up at him to see a small smile on Gene's face.

Carefully, so as not to move the blanket too much, Snafu turns Eugene's arm over and wiggles his fingers free from Gene's grasp. He spreads Eugene's hand out and then uses his own finger to draw a heart on Eugene's warm palm. He traces the heart a couple times to make sure Eugene gets the idea.

Eugene's hand closes around Snafu's finger and gives it an answering squeeze. Eugene then takes hold of Snafu's arm and draws a heart of his own on Snafu's palm.

Satisfied, Snafu goes back to holding both Eugene's hands and tries desperately to keep a stupid smile off his face. "Got you to stop writing," Snafu says triumphantly with his head resting next to Eugene's ear.

Eugene pinches Snafu hard in the tender flesh between thumb and fingers. It's extra painful since Eugene's fingernails have grown a little long post VJ day.

All Snafu can do is wince and wiggle in his seat, trying not to give away the fact that their hands are interlocked under the blanket.

Eugene squeezes his hand again as if to forgive Snafu for his annoying neverending pastime of trying to rile Eugene up, and then they settle comfortably into one another.

"Don't drool on my uniform," Eugene requests before Snafu drifts off to sleep.

Guess what Snafu does.

He wakes with a jerk as the train lurches over an uneven track. A thin trail of drool stretches from Snafu's chin to Eugene's shoulder. Snafu must have been sleeping extremely heavily.

"Morning sleeping beauty," Burgie says.

"It's morning?" Snafu asks groggily.

"Yup, you two slept through the night," Burgie says, a twinkle in his eye, "Almost twelve hours. I think you set a record."

"Fuck," Snafu drops his head back onto Eugene's shoulder. If he sits up any farther he'll have to let go of Eugene's hands still entwined in his.

Eugene sleeps on, like a rock.

"Eugene snores," Burgie announces. He seems to be sharing an inside joke with himself, "That's what woke you up. A particularly loud snore."

"Huh," Snafu says, "I thought the train went over a rock maybe."

"Nope, Eugene made that noise," Burgie tells him.

"Huh," Snafu says.

"Guess you guys'll have to suss out a solution to that once you two get your own place together," Burgie says.

It takes a minute for Burgie's words to set in. Then Snafu glances at him sharply. But Burgie simply sits there with his book, looking as sweet as ever. Snafu decides he's gonna go back to sleep and he snuggles comfortably back into Eugene's side.

And of course Eugene chooses that minute to wake up. Eugene doesn't move, he doesn't open his eyes, but he caresses Snafu's hand in a way that has Snafu wide awake instantly. And then he slowly, excruciatingly slowly, moves their clasped hands further down into Eugene's lap under the blanket. Where Eugene is rock hard.

"Jesus," Snafu breathes.

"What?" Burgie asks.

Snafu remembers that for all appearances Eugene is still asleep. And not secretly pressing Snafu's palm to his morning wood. Snafu snatches his hand back and hastily detangles himself from both Eugene and the blanket. "Nothing," Snafu says grumpily.

Eugene makes a show of "waking up" and calmly stretching. He keeps the blanket covering his lap.

Snafu draws his knees up to his chest and forces his mind to concentrate on anything other than the man sitting next to him.

"Snafu you drooled on me, didn't you," Eugene accuses. He pokes at the wet spot on his uniform.

"It was either that or drool over you," Snafu comments fairly. He lolls his head back on his seat, rolls his eyes to the ceiling and tries to look bored.

"Ugh. I hate waking up without fresh clothes to change into," Eugene wrinkles that perfect nose of his, "Thought those days were behind us."

"Still one more," Burgie says brightly.

"Yeah, one day for you," Snafu laughs, "We've got two."

"Two and a half on the train for me," Eugene sighs, "Three more mornings in this smelly uniform."

"I don't smell anything," Snafu reassures him.

"That's cause your stench covers everything within a half mile radius, Snaf," Eugene says.

Snafu scowls at Eugene, "You weren't complaining 'bout it on the back of the caboose."

"The breeze helped there," Eugene counters, quick as if he had it ready on the tip of his tongue.

Snafu can see a tiny grin under his casually blank expression. Eugene knows he is ticking Snafu off, and Eugene is enjoying it. But Snafu bets that if he helped Eugene out with his morning wood situation, Eugene wouldn't be half so picky about his smell.

Like a lightning bolt, Snafu is hit with inspiration. "You know...I hear the sleeper cars got showers," he says slyly, trying not to make eye contact with Gene.

"Really?" Eugene asks eagerly. Maybe a bit more eager than he normally would be. More eager than he should be.

"Yeah," Snafu smiles broadly, "We're moving up in the world. We're on one of those fancy trains. Running water and everything."

"Do you know which direction the sleeper cars are?" Eugene asks. He's already sitting up and looking perky, despite the morning hour.

"Towards the front, I think," Snafu replies.

Eugene stands and moves to the center aisle. And then pauses, rethinks his goal, and leans down towards Snafu, resting his arm behind Snaf's shoulders. "Hey," Eugene muses, "Maybe you should come with me. I might get lost."

"Snafu is not the one I would look to for directions," Burgie warns casually.

"Hey!" Snafu protests.

"You forget, I went through bootcamp with you, Snaf," Burgie says, "Where everyone learned to never leave you in charge of a map."

"It's a train," Snafu scowls, "You go one way and if you hit the end, you turn around and go the other way. How hard can it be?"

"Guess Sledgehammer can find his way on his own, then," Burgie says.

This leaves both Snafu and Sledge speechless. They stay in awkward silence while Snafu tries to come up with an excuse.

"Well yes. Except...," Eugene says as he gazes soulfully down at Snafu, "...now that I'm standing here, getting pretty close to him, I can honestly say Snaf smells awful, if anyone needs a shower, it's him," Eugene points out, "He should come with me."

Snafu sniffs his armpit. He makes a face. "Sledgehammer's right."

"C'mon, we'll find the sleeper cars," Eugene announces and drags Snafu along behind him by the sleeve of his uniform.

Luckily it doesn't actually take them long to find the sleeper car at the very front of the train. And it takes even less time to locate the blessedly empty shower compartment. Eugene shoves Snafu into the changing room space and squeezes in behind him. There's barely enough room for one man, let alone two.

The tight squeeze isn't too much of a hardship as Snafu doesn't mind being squished up between the wall and Gene's body as Eugene boldly rips Snafu's uniform off him.

"Better not actually tear my shirt, I do have to wear it two more days," Snafu warns him with false sincerity.

"Oh, like you care," Eugene says sarcastically and pushes Snafu's pants down around his ankles.

And it's true, Snafu does not care about a few rips in his button holes. Definitely not when Eugene is touching him, and kissing his bare chest.

"You don't eat enough," Eugene comments in between kisses. He runs his thumb down Snafu's side, hitting each individual rib as he goes. He crouches down and kisses Snafu's stomach, right below his sternum, between the apex of his ribs.

"I smoke too much," Snafu counters, his voice husky. He gets his hands in Eugene's hair and nudges Eugene's head down further. "A little lower, Sledge," he says and throws Eugene a smile and wink. He tries to put a bit of distance in his voice, as if all he wants out of this is Eugene's mouth on his dick.

Eugene looks up at Snafu from under his lashes. Rather than following Snafu's suggestion, Eugene playfully changes course and mouths over to Snafu's nipple. One tweak of Eugene's lips and Snafu is reflexively jutting his hips into Eugene's body. "I'll have to help you quit," Eugene mumbles, "The smoking, I mean."

"You stickin around for that long?" Snafu asks, well aware that his type tends to leave once the sex is over with.

Eugene takes his mouth off Snafu's nipple, and straightens up to look Snafu in the eye. "Of course," he says, "Why wouldn't I?"

Suddenly feeling flustered at Eugene's very serious and easily given commitment, Snafu ducks his head and focuses on kicking his boots off. "Sure you will," Snafu says disbelievingly.

"Snafu," Eugene sighs, "We've been together this long, might as well see it through to the end. I lied to Burgie back there. I've spent so long living with your constant presence, I don't even smell you anymore." Eugene sounds slightly grossed out by this fact. He pushes his face into Snafu's neck and takes a deep breath. At the same time he gets his hands around Snafu's ass and grinds their hips together. "I can certainly feel you," Gene says with a smirk.

Snafu tries to respond in kind. His leg bounces forward on it's own accord, giving Gene more access to rut against him. Caught up in his own enthusiasm, Snafu's foot catches on his pants hanging loose around his ankles, and he almost falls over. Luckily the shower dressing room is cramped enough he simply rams into the wall.

Eugene chuckles at him and holds Snafu's elbows to keep Snafu upright while he angrily shakes his foot out of his stupidly tight uniform.

"Why are you still dressed while I'm butt naked?" Snafu glares at Eugene.

"Cause you havent taken anything off me yet," Eugene answers, smug.

"That's my responsibility now?" Snafu asks.

"Mhmm," Eugene hums as he leans in close once more and rests their foreheads together. Eugene's hands run up around Snafu's ribcage, to his shoulders, and down to his waist again rhythmically as if Eugene is trying to memorize his form.

"You sure took my clothes off fast," Snafu notes. He initially thought Eugene was gonna take him in a rush, with the way Gene fought to free Snafu from his pants.

"I wanted to admire you," Eugene says, with his gentle hands doing every bit of that admiring.

Damn artist boy. "We've been naked together in the showers plenty of times, Gene," Snafu whines, ready to get down to the good stuff, "Nothing you haven't seen before."

"Not like this," Eugene argues. He runs his hand down Snafu's stomach, and finally to his groin. "I couldn't take my time to look then. I couldn't touch you then. You know, I never told you, but I find Snafu's pecker awfully beautiful," Eugene adds, as if Snafu's dick should be framed and hung in a museum rather than hung between his legs or hung as stars in the sky.

Snafu swells with pride. He puffs up his chest and bucks his hips against Eugene's. "Looks like Snafu's pecker is angling up again," he announces, "All for you this time."

"I can tell," Eugene grins and he kisses a sensitive spot on Snafu's neck that almost sends Snafu's senseless.

Snafu kinda wishes Eugene complimenting his dick didn't make him as weak as he feels. Like putty in Eugene's hands. Like if Eugene jerks him off right now, it won't even take too long and then Eugene can go back to admiring Snafu all he damn well pleases.

Eugene laughs in Snafu's ear and Snafu realizes he might have been babbling out loud.

"What if I enjoy admiring you like this? Maybe I don't want it to end just yet," Eugene teases and pauses his hand's movement over Snafu's dick, "You act all haughty like you don't need anyone, but now…"

"Fuck, Gene," Snafu groans, canting his hips desperately, willing to do almost anything, "You're right..."

"Right about what?" Eugene asks with his know-it-all smirk. He moves his hands around to Snafu's ass and leans on him, pressing him into the wall.

"I need you…" Snafu admits, grinding against Gene's leg.

Eugene's fingers dig into the flesh of Snafu's butt and he holds Snafu tight against his body, not allowing him to move even a tiny wiggle.

"Gene…" Snafu groans, "How many times do I have to…?"

"Beg," Eugene orders, his voice and warm breath on Snafu's ear.

That sends an odd chill down Snafu's spine. "Fuck," Snafu complains, "No!" He pushes out of Eugene's grip and shoves Eugene against the opposite wall. "Asshole," Snafu tells him.

But Eugene is smiling. He's got such an innocent, teasing smile. His smile knows something Snafu doesn't. Almost as if this is some inside joke between them. Except if there is a joke, it's gone over Snafu's head.

Eugene's eyes glitter as he looks at Snafu. In fact, his entire body lights up, like he worships the ground Snafu walks on. A truth Snafu is painfully aware of given the number of times Eugene unquestionably obeyed Snafu's orders during the war. He'd follow Snafu into anything, even this. Whatever this is.

Eugene's erection is outlined in his pants. He wants this as much as Snafu does. If it is true that Snafu corrupted Eugene, he's corrupted him fully.

"Show me how you do it," Eugene suggests.

"What?" Snafu asks with confusion. He's about ready to gather his clothes and leave - abandon Eugene hard and wanting in the bathroom just like Eugene left him on the caboose floor.

"I want to make you feel good, so…show me what you do," Eugene gestures to Snafu's dick.

"It's not rocket science," Snafu shakes his head.

"I know, but I want to watch you," Eugene says.

So Snafu saunters over closer to Eugene. He lifts his chin high and places one hand against the wall over Eugene's shoulder. Snafu's other hand takes hold of his dick and starts to masturbate. All while staring Eugene straight in the eye. To Snafu's surprise, Eugene doesn't look away.

"Thought you were gonna watch and learn," Snafu gripes and nods down at his crotch, where Eugene's eyes should be.

"I am learning," Eugene says. He places his hands tenderly on either side of Snafu's cheeks and cradles his head. He keeps gazing into Snafu's eyes which somehow makes Snafu even more fucking turned on than he already is.

"Oh hell," Snafu whines.

Eugene kisses him. Gene kisses him and then slides his hands down Snafu's body and takes over in jerking Snafu off just as Snafu is about to come.

"Ohhhh," Snafu moans. He grabs Eugene's head and fucking devours him, pouring every bit of unreleased sexual tension into the kiss.

Gene inches Snafu closer and closer to the edge till…"Sledgehammer, I'm gonna…"

Eugene smiles proudly and speeds up with encouragement from Snafu, but he warns, "If you dare get my uniform dirty…"

"Fuck you, Sledge," Snafu bites his lip and fumbles Eugene's hands out of the way. Snafu gets there just in time. He comes with gusto, spilling all over his own hands. But thankfully, only in his hands. He drops his head to Eugene's shoulder and pants. He feels a bit stunned.

Eugene rubs his back comfortingly, but Snafu barely feels it.

Once Snafu's collected himself, he leans back and holds his hands up for inspection. "See, not a single drop on your precious jacket," Snafu brags obnoxiously.

Eugene laughs and drags him into another kiss.

"Jesus, Gene!" Snafu protests, "Let me wash my hands first so I can touch you again and not smear cum everywhere!"

But Eugene won't take his lips off him.

Again, not that Snafu is complaining or anything. But it's a bit of a struggle to slide under Eugene's arm and grope for the sink faucets. His face still suctioned to Eugene's, Snafu blindly shoves his hands under the water and slaps them around to get all his spunk off.

Eugene wraps a hug around Snaf from behind, kissing his neck and chuckling at their reflection. "You cut the finest figure I have ever seen," Eugene whispers. He runs his hands down Snafu's abdominal V, and rests them right over his groin.

"Yeah, and how many figures have you seen?" Snafu is sarcastic, "One?"

"I've made quite the study of it," Eugene insists.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," Eugene says, "I've studied all the old masters' anatomy sketches - Da Vinci, Michelangelo…"

"That gay painter?" Snafu pipes up.

"What?" Eugene asks.

"Michelangelo, the guy who wrote love poems to his male nude models?" Snafu says.

"I don't know anything about that…"

"Da Vinci was gay too…" Snafu says, relishing in Eugene's obvious discomfort.

"How can you be sure of any of this?" Eugene asks.

"Oh please, you think gay erotica is easy to come by in New Orleans?" Snafu laughs, "You weren't the only one reading books on the 'Old Masters' anatomy studies. But for me it wasn't so much reading as it was a lot of looking. Checked 'em out from the library all the time, just not for your reasons." He leans back into Eugene's touch and smirks at Gene in the mirror, "Or maybe exactly for your reasons?"

"I…" Eugene is blushing, "I thought it was a coincidence."

"What? That these raunchy old dudes filled up pages and pages of meticulously detailed male nude drawings? Drawings that maybe turned you on?" Snafu asks.

"I never thought of art that way," Eugene argues.

"You trying to tell me studying those never made you hot?" Snafu teases.

"Well, there was one…."

"Ooooh!" Snafu coos. He comfortably wraps Eugene's arms in front of his stomach, and settles in as if to hear a story, smiling at Gene's blushing face all the while.

"I once saw a slide depicting a portion of the Sistine Chapel paintings..." Eugene confesses.

"Getting hot in church!" Snafu crows.

"The slide was shown in college, not in church!" Eugene protests, "Anyway, one of the male figures was sitting with his torso elegantly twisted and the cloth behind him was draped so it appeared to fall between his naked legs…" Eugene slides his hands down Snafu's body and onto his thigh, "...like the fabric was caressing him sensuously...like…" Eugene trails off and dips his hand between Snafu's own legs. He grips the soft slack muscle of Snafu's inner thigh. "Adductor group" Eugene whispers. He runs his hands down the inside of Snafu's leg, tracing a long line of muscle and disappearing out of sight in the mirror. "Sartorius," Gene names the muscle anatomy on Snafu's body as he goes, "Vastus Medialis. Internal oblique. External oblique."

Snafu closes his eyes. He can't see the muscles Eugene is referencing, but he can feel Eugene's fingers dig deep almost to the bone, massaging the different areas. "Fuck Sledge. Only you could make Latin hot."

Eugene laughs quietly behind Snafu's head. "Only you would think me benignly listing anatomical names was hot," he says.

"Everything you do is hot," Snafu's grin widens.

"Scrubbing barrels?"

"The hottest!" Snafu exclaims.

Eugene chuckles again.

Snafu opens his eyes to watch Sledgehammer giggle. Eugene's whole body trembles, and his mouth forms a wide 'V'. His laugh is pretty hot too.

The door knocks.

They both freeze. Snafu guiltily turns the sink faucet off.

The door knocks again.

"Busy," Snafu yells.

"Hurry it up!" a voice calls, "You're hogging it!"

"No chance!" Snafu retorts.

This time the door bangs as the man on the other side takes his angry fist to it.

Snafu starts to feel nervous. He's unsure how they're gonna get out of this one if the guy outside waits for them to leave.

"Ignore it, we're paying customers," Eugene whispers to Snafu.

"Not in the sleeper car," Snafu points out. The ticket crumpled on the floor in his pants back pocket is for coach only.

"Turn the shower on," Eugene says softly in his ear.

Snafu reaches past the shower curtain and does as he's told. The water drowns out the outside voices, but they still hear footsteps as the guy goes away.

"Get in. I'll get undressed and join you in a minute," Eugene orders.

Eugene being bossy is a bit of a turn on.

"Sure," Snafu drawls. He pinches Gene on the ass and adds, "Gluteus maximus," before he squeezes past the curtain into the shower.

"You pinched the Gemellus muscles, actually," Eugene catches his hand and yanks him into a quick kiss before letting him go.

Snafu slides the curtain shut to let Eugene change, and starts to wrestle with the dumb shower knobs. None of them seem to work the way one might expect. "What the fuck?" Snafu complains and punches the stupid thing. Water comes out. In squirts.

"The shower head's ejaculating," Snafu tells Eugene on the other side of the curtain, "We might need to give it some privacy before we start." Another few squirts and the water eases into a steady stream.

"You forgot the soap," Gene's still clothed arm sticks into the shower between the tile edge and the curtain, and waves the bar at Snafu.

"Don't need soap," Snafu says haughtily.

"Yes you do," Eugene counters and waggles the soap at him again.

"Fresh water and a lil spit shine are all a man needs," Snafu insists.

Eugene shoves the soap into Snafu's chest, "Use the damn soap, Snaf. You filthy grimlin."

Rolling his eyes, Snafu does as he's told and grabs the soap. But he also grabs Gene's arm, and yanks both into the shower with him.

Eugene yelps when the water hits his chest and dribbles all over his uniform. "Shelton!" Eugene sputters, "Three more days! In this uniform!" He can't even get a proper sentence out, he's so angry.

Snafu gives him a better reason for speechlessness by putting his mouth over Eugene's.

Gene immediately forgets about his wet uniform woes and melts into the kiss. He corners Snafu and braces himself on the tile floor using the rubber soles of his boots. His strong stance keeps the two of them steady despite the shaking train. Whatever gunk Eugene styles his hair with melts away too and the long strands over his forehead slowly droop into Snafu's face.

Snafu breaks the kiss, leans his forehead against Gene's and fumbles to get all of Eugene's buttons open. In his haste, he doesn't even bother to pull the shirt out of Gene's pants. He just shoves the open shirt to the side as best as he can and drags Eugene in. The first touch of Eugene's bare skin against Snafu's own chest fulfills almost every secret wish Snafu had for this moment.

Snafu holds him there without kissing without even looking, and just feels it. He thinks he maybe understands now what Eugene meant by simply admiring.

Then Eugene ruins the mood by whispering, "My boots are filling up with water."

Snafu snorts, "Least it's not sweat?"

"You gonna let me take them off this time?" Eugene asks with a smirk.

"Only if you take the rest of it off too," Snafu tugs at Eugene's shirt.

The stream of water slows to a trickle and then stops altogether

"You turned the shower off?" Eugene asks, "Thanks…?" He sounds slightly befuddled. Probably because both of Snafu's hands are gripping Gene's clothes.

"I didn't touch it," Snafu remarks, "Its push button. The thing stops on it's own."

“What?”

“Push button,” Snafu demonstrates by leaning over to press the shower knob again. Water spurts out and hits Gene in the back of the head.

“Who makes a push button shower?” Eugene complains. He ducks away to avoid the water stream that starts steadily trickling down.

“Santa fe railroad company apparently,” Snafu comments.

“I will have to remember to file a complaint," Eugene scowls at the little plastic knob.

"Don't know how you're gonna remember that, you already forgot to get undressed," Snafu tells him, and then playfully pushes Gene back out of the shower, "And don't come back till you're naked, you filthy grimlin."

"My ruined uniform is your fault, Snafu," Gene points out, "You pulled me in."

"Yeah, yeah," Snafu taunts, "it ain't ruined. It just got a free wash."

Gene doesn't say anything else, but if Snafu listens carefully he can hear the titillating sounds of Eugene's belt being unbuckled. A few thuds signify when the boots come off and another quiet jingle as Eugene's pants and belt fall to the floor.

Eugene will be stepping into the shower any minute. Snafu figures he had better turn the water back on, give it a chance to heat up before Eugene joins him.

Despite Snafu's reassurances to Eugene about how they've seen each other naked in many innocuous circumstances, Snafu feels nervous as hell. Eugene is rather flighty and embarrassed when it comes to sex and the last thing Snafu wants to do is scare him off. And this stupid train is making that a tall order.

Snafu slams his hand down on the shower knob and pushes it repeatedly, taking his stress out on the poor thing more than it  deserves. The water comes out of the nozzle in spurts, and after twenty or so pushes, finally turns warm. Snafu breathes a sigh of relief and turns his face into the stream.

"Snaf?" Eugene asks softly from behind the shower curtain.

"Yeah?" Snafu asks back.

Eugene doesn't answer.

Snafu moves to peek behind the curtain but Eugene holds it closed.

"You coming in?" Snafu asks.

No response.

"Gene?"

Still no response.

The water trickles to a stop, Snafu doesn't bother to turn it back on again. "Gene, if you want me to use this soap, you're gonna have to come in and make me," Snafu challenges.

"What if you don't like it?" Eugene asks.

"What is there to like about a bar of soap? Soap is soap!" Snafu is confused, "You know I don't do flowers and shit. I'll end up smelling like a hat box." His mother had a Sunday hat she kept on the top shelf of the broom closet in a beat up old cardboard box with a satchel of lavender stored inside. 'Looks nice, smells nice, and no bugs,' was her mantra.

"No...I mean…" Eugene sighs, "I'm not built like those…" he stops, hesitates, and starts again, "Those other guys, with their steel band muscles. The military men who could've stepped out of an anatomical study - all chiseled jaws, and broad chests, and sculpted arms…what if you don't like...me?"

"Sledgehammer, I've wanted to fuck you since the first day you walked into my tent," Snafu says through the curtain, "And you were more freckles than muscle then."

"Yeah I figured, but…"

"But nothing," Snafu laughs, "get your butt in here!"

Again the other side of the curtain goes quiet. Snafu starts to realize that Gene might be serious about this.

Snafu changes his tone, to something a little kinder, and adds further compelling facts to his argument, "I've seen you naked. Many times."

"Not like this," Eugene says again, a stubborn note in his voice.

"I've jerked myself off to the thought of you naked, many times," Snafu offers, "How about that?" He's confident this will boost Eugene's confidence.

"I...don't think anyone's ever said that to me before," Eugene says with mild skepticism in his voice.

Snafu presses his hand to Eugene's on the opposite side of the curtain and the thin, opaque sheet of plastic between them is almost as bad as only being able to hold hands under a damn blanket. "Okay, Gene. I won't pressure you," Snafu says softly, "This stupid shower has enough pressure issues as it is," -in that instant the water pressure changes yet again and spurts of it slap Snafu in the face. He shakes his head free of water and tells Eugene, "Just give me a few to finish here, and then I'll let you have the shower to yourself. All right?" He steps away from the curtain and pushes the knob to fix the stream.

Snafu runs his hair under the shower to wet it fully. A difficult task given that with every bump in the tracks, the stream cuts off briefly. Not to mention Snafu keeps stumbling into the damn wall. He opens the cardboard carton of soap and successfully pulls the soap free, but the minute he tries to scrub his hair with it, the train jostles his hand and out pops the soap bar. Like a weasel. Or Eugene's dick if Snafu could just yank those dungarees off him.

Snafu catches the damn thing, but barely. He rubs it against his head a few times, and then a particularly nasty jostle careens his elbow into the wall and sends the soap skittering to the floor. Snafu grumbles at it, picks it up, and tries again.

This song and dance with the soap continues for a while longer before Snafu gets fed up.

"I'm not coming out..." Snafu announces to Eugene, "...just let me reach…" He thrusts his hand between the wall and the curtain and tosses the soap out of the shower, "Take it! It's worse than a damn jumping bean." The soap collides with the wall and bounces into the sink.

Snafu can hear Eugene swearing behind the curtain as he tries to catch the soap.

"It landed on your clothes," Eugene says, "So if your pants smell like flowers, you've only yourself to blame."

"Better than whatever the hell they smelled like before," Snafu says. He hurriedly runs his hands under his armpits and prepares to exit the treacherous shower.

"Snaf, wait," Eugene says quickly.

"Yeah?" Snafu freezes.

"I changed my mind. Can I…" Eugene's fingers appear around the edge of the curtain. It opens a crack.

It's as if Snafu has been given a second chance at life. The ball is in his court again. Snafu isn't used to the side of Eugene who feels insecure and uncertain. But this? Snafu knows exactly how to handle this.

"Only if you say the magic word," Snafu answers in a tease.

"Please?" Eugene says incredulously, like he suspects Snafu is pulling his leg.

"Nope, wrong word," Snafu insists. He turns around and tilts his head back to let the trickle of water seep into his already drying hair again. Better get ready for when Eugene finally breaks down that curtain. Snafu needs to be wet, and shiny, and vivacious.

"A magic word, Shelton, seriously?" Eugene asks, the annoyance slipping so easily into his countenance.

"Nope, still not the right word," Snafu repeats. He shakes his head, flinging his wet curls out of his eyes.

"You expect me to just start saying random words?" Eugene asks.

"I'll let you know when you get it right," Snafu says.

"Asshole," Eugene grumbles.

"Wrong!" Snafu exclaims.

There's silence on the other side of the curtain. Eugene is really bad at this.

"Are you really going to stand out there alone and bare ass-ed instead of continuing to guess?" Snafu taunts.

"Snafu, just let me in," Eugene sighs.

"Nope!"

"Merriell!"

"Yup, that's the one," Snafu bends his head back again.

Eugene lets out a frustrated mumble. The curtain jerks open. "Close your eyes," Eugene orders.

Snafu closes his eyes and lets the water fill his ears, so for a minute it's just him and solitude. He stops thinking about Eugene, he stops thinking about himself. The only thing he focuses is on is the sound of his own heartbeat...and how difficult it is to stay standing in one place while the train tries to throw him in all directions.

"Well, this is narrow," Eugene observes when he steps into the shower. The metal shower curtain rod squeaks as Gene closes it behind himself.

Snafu hums.

Gene's hands press against Snafu's stomach. They are warmer than the outside air but wet when he slides them around Snafu's waist. The next thing Snafu feels is Eugene's lips kissing his neck, sucking at the water running down his skin. Eugene is dying of thirst and it might be Snafu's fault.

And then the train rattles extra hard, and Snafu is thrown into Eugene and Eugene is thrown into the wall.

Giggles abound.

Snafu opens his eyes.

Eugene looks at him, and Snafu looks at Eugene. Eugene is fucking beautiful, as always. Snafu makes sure to tell him so.

Eugene seems satisfied by Snafu's sincerity.

And finally, they come together and get down to the good stuff.

It isn't easy. Everything - including the inconsistent water spray, the constant need to pound on the button to make water come out, and the occasional bumps in the railroad track - combines to try and kill the mood.

But nevertheless Snafu persists, because Eugene is nude, and wet, and slippery due to Gene bringing the damn soap back into the shower with him. And he insists on using it on Snafu.

Both of them perpetually get too distracted to remember to hit the water button, and eventually they leave it off. But this also means that when Eugene lathers them up with soap, there is nowhere for that soap to go except down. Things get extremely slippery underfoot.

"Should've kept the boots on," Snafu suggests snidely, "Better grip in the soles."

Eugene snorts into Snafu's shoulder and grips Snafu's hips harder to make up for the slick slide of his feet on the shower floor. "Just hold onto me, I'll keep you upright," He says, and smiles adoringly at Snafu's antics.

"You kidding me? You're more unsteady on your feet than I am, soap boy!" Snafu laughs.

It's worth it though, because the glide of Eugene's bare thigh between Snafu's legs is to die for. Their bodies become one single undulating soapy mass. And Eugene's body, for all his insecurities and shyness, feels fucking amazing. Everything is amazing. Snafu hopes no one else needs the shower anytime soon, because Snafu intends to stay in it for the rest of the train ride. All three days.

Snafu is riding high on pleasure till he tries to get his mouth on Eugene's nipple and tastes soap. Snafu chokes, and spits, and Eugene looks insulted. "We need to wash off," Snafu explains. He slams his fist against the stupid button.

"Maybe if we had sex against the water knob, we'd keep pressing it naturally…" Eugene suggests, "That's how sex works, right?" He pantomimes a hammer motion with his hips and Snafu almost loses it then and there.

"Pretty sure we'd break our heads if we tried that in the shower, Sledgehammer," Snafu warns.

They try it anyway.

Sure enough, just as Eugene's dick successfully penetrates an inch into Snafu's ass, the train jiggles again and throws them off balance. Snafu slides under Gene and falls to his butt, and Eugene braces his hands against the wall, straddling over Snafu and looking alarmed.

"Makes it easier," Snafu shrugs and takes Gene's cock into his mouth instead.

Eugene gasps and almost buckles to the floor.

Snafu wraps his arms around Eugene's body and helps him stand.

Eugene leans his shoulder against the shower wall and winds his fingers into Snafu's hair. "Merriell," Eugene pants, "Mer…"

Snafu simply grins and works Eugene closer and closer to the edge. Eugene's arousal is a little hard for Snafu to read. Eugene isn't particularly physically expressive. Eugene's body grows tighter, like he's almost afraid of the point he's nearly about to hit. There's so much visible tension built up in Eugene's shoulders, all Snafu wants is to see that relax - to be the person who can make Eugene's taught string snap.

The only way Snafu knows Eugene is close is by the noises Gene makes. As Eugene loses his control, his moans grow almost too loud for the precarious situation they're in.

Eugene's eyes close, his breaths quicken, and he rolls his hips in one last desperate push.

Everything comes crashing to a climax. The train hits a bump. Eugene moans, his muscles shake. Snafu involuntarily pops off Eugene's dick (like the soap out of Snafu's hand) and is thrown backwards. Eugene slips, having lost total control of his legs. Cum squirts everywhere, all over the blue tile shower wall like Eugene's some sort of Jackson Pollock. He falls and his knee lands on top of Snafu's groin. Snafu stifles his cry of agony and doubles over. Eugene immediately turns from blissed out to worried and apologetic and in his haste to help Snafu, he instead falls in Snafu's lap.

They sit there together in the aftermath and watch the water turn off. The shower walls are still painted in Gene's cum.

"You're a real artist now, Gene," Snafu says, observing the mess. His voice is tight and he's still crouched in pain.

Eugene blinks at Snafu, lets the words sink in, and then rolls his eyes, "Oh god. Don't even start." He slowly gets back on his feet again. He stretches his legs, flexes his feet to grip the tile better.

Snafu grins.

"Snaf?" Eugene says, taking deep breaths as his heart rate goes down.

"Yeah?" Snafu stares up at him, anxious to hear how Gene's taking all this. And not wanting to influence him with Snafu's own commentary.

Eugene swallows a gulp of air, closes his eyes, and leans his head against the cool tile. He accidentally puts his hand in a wet smear of his own cum and doesn't even notice. "Can we do that again?" Gene asks.

Snafu's grin widens, "Anytime."

Gene huffs a laugh. He tries to stand straight, his left foot hits a soapy patch, and Eugene's leg almost goes out from underneath him. Again.

Snafu chuckles as he lifts his arms to prop up Gene's ass and prevent him from falling.

"Sorry!" Eugene gives up on standing and instead slowly lowers himself backwards down into Snafu's lap. The round globe of Eugene's bare butt grows bigger and bigger in Snafu's field of vision.

Snafu is not complaining. He guides Eugene's ass safely down to his level. "I fucking love you," he says.

Eugene spins around to stare at him in surprise. He almost drops his knee onto Snafu's groin a second time, “What?”

The smile drops from Snafu's face and he tries to stop Gene from moving around so much, “Careful!”

“You said you loved me," Eugene says stubbornly.

Snafu scowls, “Yeah to your ass. As it came crashing down onto my face.”

Eugene glares at Snafu, challenging him to refute Eugene's earlier statement.

Snafu refuses to say anything related to the dumbass words that slipped out of his mouth easier than Eugene's soapy feet slipping on wet tile.

Eugene stares him down, clearly stubborn enough to believe that he can win this contest. He underestimates Snafu's ability to go deadfaced. Their staredown lasts for at least five minutes.

Until finally Eugene caves, "Love you too, Snaf." He gives Snafu's knee a friendly push.

Snafu pushes Eugene's face away so his back is to Snafu once again.

Eugene tries to stand on wobbly feet, more determined this time.

Snafu leans forward, wraps his arms around Eugene's waist, and presses his face to Eugene's right butt cheek.

"Snafu, you're gonna make me fall again…" Eugene warns. He braces himself on either side of the shower.

"Right, sorry…balance," Snafu mumbles and switches to Eugene's left butt cheek. To even things out.

"Okay…" Eugene laughs and turns himself around, "Let me help you up now."

Snafu takes Eugene's offered hand but when he tries to get up, the pain in his groin and shoulder where Gene accidentally crushed him flares up in agony. "Give me a minute," Snafu says and tries to hide his grimace. He drops back down to the tile and leans against the wall, pulling his legs close to his chest.

"Snaf?" Eugene sounds concerned.

"I'm fine," Snafu replies with a smile. He wishes Eugene wouldn't stare at him so much, "Just let me sit."

"Snaf…" Eugene sounds increasingly frustrated.

Snafu closes his eyes and wills the pain away.

A gentle hand takes hold of Snafu's wrist and lifts Snafu's hand from where it's covering his shoulder. Eugene replaces it with his own. "Snaf, don't do this," Eugene says.

"What?" Snafu cracks an eye open.

"Make yourself small," Eugene says, "You are allowed to take up space. Even if right now inside this inhumanely cramped shower the only space I have to give you is in my heart."

Snafu blinks at him, "Holy shit Sledgehammer, how long did it take you to come up with that one?"

Eugene grins, "Been thinking about it since you pulled me in with all my clothes on. I'm gonna write it down when we're finished. In my journal. Next to my lengthy descriptions of your pillowed lips."

"We oughta get out of this cursed shower so you can put those clothes back on," Snafu comments. He tries to hold onto the shower curtain to pull himself up.

"Snaf, that cheap plastic will rip right down if you put your weight on it," Eugene warns, "Hold onto me instead."

Snafu does as told and leans half his weight on Eugene's chest. "I don't need you," Snafu insists, staring into Gene's face defiantly.

"I know," Eugene smiles, "But I also know you want me. So...."

Snafu kisses him gently to shut Gene up.

Without all the acrobatics they kept trying before, it's suddenly pretty easy for them both to lean against the shower wall and let the train rock them side to side as they make out.

Snafu is freezing cold. The water stopped spurting long ago, and his toes feel like individual icicles. But every place on his body where Gene puts his hands is warm, and as long as Eugene keeps his lips on him, Snafu doesn't care about all the rest.

"I dreamt we could spend the entire train ride kissing like this," Snafu whispers to Gene.

"Yeah?" Eugene's eyes light up. He trails a finger down the muscle of Snafu's neck, "I'd do it." Eugene leans in and replaces his finger with his lips, "If i thought we could get away with it, I would sit right in the middle of that passenger car, necking with you till we reach Mobile."

Snafu latches on to the last few words of Eugene's sentence: 'till we reach Mobile.' 'We.'

"Fuck, Gene," Snafu says softly.

They kiss till the train starts to slow. "Where the fuck do you think we are now?" Snafu asks, knowing they probably aren't even in Texas yet.

"Tucson probably," Eugene mumbles. He unsticks Snafu's bare skin from the shower wall and pushes him toward the center of the stall, "C'mon we only have a few minutes before everybody is aboard."

They end up getting twenty. Twenty blissful minutes of a perfectly still, unmoving train. The rush from the beginning of their tryst returns. Snafu slams his hand against the shower knob and honest-to-god hot water comes out, melting their fingers and toes, and putting Snafu in a languid, sensual mood. His entire body is nothing but sensation and Eugene is a goddamn dream.

As long as Snafu keeps his hand behind his back covering the shower knob, the rocking of their bodies does exactly as Eugene had originally intended and keeps the water flowing. Eugene laughs a little at how much easier everything is all of a sudden. How they fit together so well now.

Snafu laughs with him. He's genuinely sharing this with Eugene, instead of focusing on how to take what little pleasure he can from this and get it over with as fast as possible.

He's actually disappointed when the train starts moving again. He nearly slides out of Eugene's embrace, but Eugene grabs Snafu's hands and holds him in place.

"We're getting all prune-y," Eugene comments as he examines the wrinkled pads of Snafu's fingers.

"Turnin' into raisins," Snafu grins.

"We should probably get out. Return to our seats. They're bound to be wondering where we got to," Eugene replies.

"Burgie probably thinks we jumped ship," Snafu agrees.

"Do you think Burgie knows?" Eugene asks, his voice turning serious.

Snafu snorts, "What you think he'd be jealous? Florence has your same hair color, Sledgehammer, but she also has a couple of other things I think Burgie'd miss." And he pantomimes two large jugs hanging in front of his chest.

"Snaf," Eugene admonishes, "Do you think he knows?"

"Of course he knows," Snafu rolls his eyes and leans against the shower wall as the train picks up speed.

Eugene sways into him and grabs Snafu around the waist. "We need to keep this secret. We can't tell anyone else," he insists.

Snafu nods. He knows the drill. He saw this coming a mile away, probably far sooner than Eugene did. Eugene with his lofty ideals and blind romance.

Eugene nods in return. He turns towards the shower curtain and yanks it open. Something makes him pause though. Snafu can see the indecision in his hunched shoulders. Eugene looks back at Snafu. And then lunges towards him for one more kiss.

"Fuck you're good at that," Snafu mutters when Gene finally releases him.

"At what?" Eugene asks.

"Final kisses," Snafu says, unable to keep the melancholy out of his own voice.

"That's not a final kiss," Eugene counters, looking confused, "That's a promise."

"A promise for what?" Snafu asks.

"You know...," Eugene shrugs. He turns his back on Snafu and steps out of the shower.

"So that's not you saying goodbye?" Snafu follows him.

"No, Snafu, that's me saying 'hold that thought until I can do it again'," Eugene explains with a wry smile, "Hopefully soon."

"Huh," Snafu scratches the nape of his neck and wonders what else he might've read wrong about Eugene's behavior.

Eugene holds up his still sopping wet uniform with a look of dismay. "It's been hours," he complains, "And still…"

"Wanna trade?" Snafu asks with a gleam in his eye.

"Yeah and have Burgie ask why I've suddenly gone up in rank?" Eugene retorts sarcastically.

Snafu chuckles and turns his attention to the bathroom air vent while Eugene struggles to put on his wet pants.

"What are you doing?" Eugene asks. He sounds tired. He leans against the wall, his pants only halfway up his legs.

Snafu ignores the question. Instead he climbs onto the sink, stands, and braces himself against the wall to reach the small air vent intended to keep the room fresh. He cleverly pops open the vent, catches it before it falls into the little changing room, and sets it down in the sink. "Figure we'll be here awhile," Snafu shrugs, "Give you some chance to dry off." He digs out a cigarette and his lighter.

"I can't get the pants to go over my thighs," Eugene complains, "They're...clinging."

Snafu grins and gestures for Eugene to step closer. With his cigarette hanging out his mouth, Snafu concentrates whole-heartedly on helping stuff Eugene back into his uncomfortably wet slacks.

"I'm gonna be cold for hours," Eugene says mournfully.

"S'why we should stay here," Snafu comments and gestures at him, "C'mere I'll help keep you warm."

Eugene smiles sardonically at him and lets Snafu drape his arms around Eugene's shoulders.

Snafu smokes, and lets the breeze carry it away out of the train.

Eugene reclines into Snafu's arms - his bare back against Snafu's bare chest. Eugene doesn't smoke with Snafu, but he does reach over for Snafu's free hand and starts picking at Snafu's fingernails. Once Gene finishes cleaning the left hand, Snafu obligingly switches his cigarette into that one so Eugene can do the other. Snafu's fingernails have never been so clean.

In the end they hold out their hands to compare.

"Think your nails are nicer than mine," Eugene notes.

"All that milk I don't drink," Snafu jokes.

Eugene takes Snafu's hand in his and kisses his palm.

"Gene, what you said...about stickin around….did you mean it?" Snafu asks quietly, maybe a little skeptically.

Eugene stiffens, like maybe Snafu's question surprised him a little. He turns in Snafu's arms and looks up at him.

Snafu blinks back. He brings his hand holding the cigarette back inside from hanging out the air vent.

Eugene silently gestures for Snafu to come closer.

Snaf balances his cigarette between his lips and carefully eases himself into a precarious crouch on the sink shelf. Fortunately if he falls, he will fall into Eugene. Who will catch him. Hopefully.

Eugene grips Snafu's hips tightly and stares into his face.

Snafu's not sure what he's looking for.

Whatever Gene's looking for, he finds it. He calmly takes the cigarette out of Snafu's mouth, tosses it out the window, and puts his open lips there instead.

Snafu gives himself over to the kiss and lets his butt drop onto the sink. The faucet is a little uncomfortable, but Eugene solves that problem too by shifting his hands underneath Snafu's thighs and lifting him a few inches above the shelf. Once again, Snafu is squished into a corner.

If it were anyone else he'd be nervous, and he'd already be running. Even now, Gene's clothes are so cold and wet that at first Snafu shrinks away from Eugene's hold. But gradually Snafu's skin becomes used to the temperature and when he wraps his legs around Eugene's waist, the heat from their bodies makes the damp bearable.

Snafu wants to stay in this shower cubicle, but he can't think up an excuse for it besides his insatiable thirst for touching Gene. Snafu runs his hands up and down Eugene's arms and asks, "Have I warmed you up yet?"

"Nope, think you had better continue trying…" Gene says and smiles when Snafu draws him into another kiss.

The sky outside the air vent is dark by the time they finally leave the little room. They're driven out by hunger. Eugene's stomach growls incredibly loudly, and they giggle together over how soft they've gone now that they eat three full meals a day.

"Burgie'll never believe me if I tell him your gut is louder than your snore," Snafu says as he helpfully rebuttons Gene's pants and buckles Gene's belt.

Eugene is completely unhelpful in that he refuses to keep his lips off Snafu even for a minute.

"I love you," Gene whispers in Snafu's ear and Snafu worries he's going to turn the words into a new mantra. "Merriell," Eugene sighs as he untucks Snafu's shirt from his pants for the third time that day.

"Gene, we gotta go back," Snafu hastily stuffs his shirt into his pants yet again, without bothering to smooth it.

"Thought you said we could spend the rest of the train ride necking…" Eugene argues and starts unbuttoning the shirt Snafu just buttoned five minutes ago.

"Yeah, in my dream…" Snafu retorts.

"I'm making your dreams come true…"

"Sledgehammer," Snafu finally puts his foot down and pushes Eugene an arm's length away, "We can't stay in here. Burgie's leaving tomorrow."

Eugene stops, and nods, "I know."

"You know?" Snafu mocks.

"Snaf, I…"

"You don't give a shit," Snafu argues, "By this time tomorrow you'll likely never see any of us all together ever again, and you don't care…"

"Snafu, what the hell…"

Snafu elbows Eugene out of the way and forces the door open. He stomps into the sleeper car and down the hall. Eugene catches up to him just as Snafu opens the divider doors.

"Snafu, slow down, I'm coming…!" Eugene says right before Snafu closes the sleeper car door on his face.

Eugene wrenches it open, grabs Snafu's wrist and prevents him from opening the next divider door. They stand there awkwardly, swaying with the train, the tracks especially loud here in the space between cars without any padding to buffer the racket.

"I'm fucking freezing," Eugene shivers at the wind blowing between the cracks and metal joints.

"You stink too," Snafu points out kindly, "Like flowers."

"Snafu, say it," Eugene demands, "Say it, and we can go sit with Burgie for the rest of the way, and I swear I'll be good."

"Why?" Snafu stubbornly asks.

"Because I need…" Eugene braces himself against the moving connector walls.

Snafu pries Eugene's hands off the shifting metal before the dumbass gets his fingers chopped.

"I need reassurance," Eugene admits.

Snafu holds Gene's hands tightly in his own and stares him down. He scowls and keeps his voice as low as possible, "I don't even know what love is, Sledge."

Eugene deflates.

Snafu drops his hands and opens the passenger car door. He walks through and can feel Eugene following him a good step or two behind. Neither of them say much more than a cursory hello to Burgie when they reach their seats.

"How is it you guys look even worse for the wear after going to freshen up?" Burgie asks.

"Shitty shower," Snafu says and slumps in his seat beside Burgie. He props his feet on the cushion across from him.

"No towels, no shampoo, no brush," Eugene says. He glares at Snafu's boots and shifts so he's sitting as far away from them as possible.

"Sledgehammer, why are you wet?" Burgie asks.

"Snafu pushed me into the shower, fully clothed," Eugene deadpans.

"He stunk," Snafu adds.

Neither of them can look Burgie in the eye.  

Burgie is Snafu's best friend, and Burgie is leaving. And Snafu can't even tell him about any of this.

The last remaining night and half day is numbing. Eugene still sleeps the soundest when Snafu is there. Gene stretches his legs out as he snores and puts his feet between Snafu's - just to keep some contact. Snafu doesn't sleep. He just watches Gene.

They're all awake, but no one is bright eyed the afternoon the train pulls into Jewett.

Snafu almost feels guilty. Because when he watches Burgie leave, he isn't seeing Burgie, he's seeing Gene. He's going to miss Burgie in a way that will probably be a distant ache the rest of his life. Snafu can imagine living with that ache. He's been through that type of loss before. The real unknown is how in the hell will Snafu  miss Sledge.

Burgie never talked about his family much during the war. Snafu once asked him about them. It was in the middle of the fighting back on Gloucester, before Sledge even walked into the picture. And Burgie only shook his head and refused the question. "If I think about them, I'll dream about them. Nightmares where they're dying in my place. It's worse, seeing that, than dying for them myself," Burgie explained. Snafu nodded, knowing Burgie was wise beyond his years. "I don't have that problem," Snafu replied, "Mine are already dead."

Burgie stuck to Snafu like glue after that. They were already friends, in that easy-going way of two people who get along naturally. But Burgie intentionally seemed to keep Snafu a little closer than the other guys. "If my little brother went off to war overseas where I can't protect him, I'd sure as hell hope he'd find someone to take my place for a while," Burgie offered as explanation.

Now Snafu watches Burgie tearfully embrace his real little brother at the train station and Snafu thinks about Eugene's brother, who came home from the European front months ago, who will be in Mobile waiting for Eugene. And about Snafu's baby sister. Who won't be.

These two Marines - Burgie and Sledgehammer - are the two reasons Snafu took himself seriously in this war. When it came down to it, day-to-day, Snafu was never fighting for much other than to preserve the life of the guy next to him. And when it was Burgie and Gene, all that fucked up effort felt worth it. Getting to witness this Burgin family reunion felt worth it.

Now Snafu just has to figure out what to do next.

Sledge claims to have no plans but the truth is Eugene is the kind of person who doesn't even know the meaning of 'no plans'. Eugene organizes every hour of his day, from work detail to meticulously researched cultural experiences. His idea of no plans consists of a financial safety net, parents who will steer him in the proper nuclear family direction, and a whole home full of people who love him.

Snafu glances over at Sledge. Their eyes meet briefly. Snafu is the one to look away.

"She'll come," Eugene says calmly, sure as ever, "It's like you said...it'll take Florence a while to get to Texas. But I'm sure the wait will be worth it."

Snafu clunks his head against the window glass and watches Burgie and his family climb into their dirty old truck - a proper farming truck. "I just said that to make him feel better. I didn't mean it," Snafu mutters.

"Well, I mean it," Eugene says firmly, "I believe it."

Burgie's truck starts driving off as the train picks up steam again. The truck turns onto the frontage road running parallel to the tracks. It almost seems to follow them as the train speeds away.

"You'll probably end up dancing at his wedding," Snafu says sourly.

"Only if you dance with me," Eugene retorts.

"I don't dance with gingers," Snafu complains, "Too hot-footed."

"Have you ever even danced with a redhead?" Eugene scoffs.

"No, but I've seen almost all of those Ginger Rogers movies…" Snafu replies.

"She doesn't even have red hair!" Eugene exclaims, incredulous.

"But she sure as hell can lift her feet," Snafu argues, "Wear a guy out, just watching her."

"You won't dance with me?" Eugene sounds crushed.

Snafu ignores the question and cranes his neck to keep his eye on the truck driving down the road. It's falling behind the train now, unable to keep up with the speed. Soon all Snafu will be able to see is a cloud of dust where his best friend should be. At least it's not a heap of mud.

Snafu remembers the first day he met Burgie in bootcamp. They were assigned as bunk mates, so when rotation happened no matter where they were sleeping - in a tent, on the open ground, barracks, whatever - they stayed together. Snafu had been so blown away by Burgie's sharp eyes, and his stocky compact beautifully built frame, that Snafu had announced to the man point blank, "If you weren't so goddamn straight, I'd be way into you." And Burgie's response, a mildly sarcastic, "Pity me" only cemented their friendship.

Snafu thought Burgie was the most impressive person in the world. Till a silly ginger boot walked into his tent on a godforsaken island and turned Snafu's world upside down.

The cloud of dust on the road beside the train becomes a distant haze. Snafu straightens and turns his face forward, only to fall into those same hooded dark eyes that entranced him the first day they met.

"Scoot over," Eugene orders.

"What?" Snafu furrows his brow at him.

"Scoot over, I want the window," Eugene demands.

Snafu does as he's told.

Eugene props his duffle against the window and leans on it. He spreads a blanket over himself and flicks the corner of it at Snafu. It hits Snafu in the face.

"Hey!" Snafu bats it away.

Eugene flicks it back.

"Fuck you, Sledge," Snafu grumbles. He gives in and rests his head on Eugene's shoulder.

"Fuck you too, Shelton," Eugene replies affectionately.

"You already did that," Snafu whispers lowly, only for Eugene to hear.

"Only almost," Eugene corrects.

"Yeah," Snafu admits, "But an inch in almost counts."

"Next time," Eugene assures him, with a devious smile, "When we're not on a rocking train."

"We'll provide the rocking," Snafu agrees, "No train needed."

"And preferably on a comfortable mattress," Eugene adds.

Snafu laughs, "Think I forgot what those even feel like."

"You shouldn't need to complain…" Eugene says and pats his chest where Snafu is leaning.

"You saying you're even more comfortable than a mattress?" Snafu smiles.

"Sure am," Gene says.

Snafu would have to agree. He can think of a million better reasons to be on top of Gene than comfort, though.

Eugene falls asleep because Eugene is Eugene and he can turn himself on or off at will. But Snafu sits there and stirs. His thoughts circle round and round about what he's going to do about the guy cuddled up with him.

The way he sees it there's two options: the Sledge family receives the questionable joy of having Snafu dropped on their doorstep like a stray cat, or Eugene doesn't show up in Mobile at all and everyone hates Snafu for keeping him away. Neither option is particularly appealing to Snafu.

He has to leave. He's not meant to witness Eugene's family reunion. He knows it.

It's like Burgie and his nightmares. If Snafu watches Eugene go back to his family, then that might start to feel more real than Snafu's connection to Sledgehammer. Better to end it on a high note. Stop it here and in Snafu's memory Eugene will stay Snafu's forever.

/~*~/   We all know what happens next, insert lots of angst and sadness as time goes by, I wrote this next goofy part to fix the end and not leave this fic hanging like Snaf did Eugene on the train.   /~*~/

A year later Snafu is living in his lonely godforsaken apartment in New Orleans. The shithole is located on the fourth floor next to a copse of palm trees, which is great for feeling like a person is living in a treehouse, but not so great on the knees. All those stairs.

He sits down at his shitty folding table, propped against the window to give him a good view of the sunset as he eats his shitty meals alone, and rattles a few shredded wheat hunks into his cereal bowl. He mournfully pours the milk on top and slaps at the gigantic mass with his spoon. The milk will seep in and eventually the slapping will turn to chipping, and then the damn thing will become edible.

The window's open and there's a light breeze, something Snafu wouldn't normally notice except for what happens next. A parrot swoops in and drops a letter in his cereal.

It's a good thing his shredded wheat hadn't yet passed the chipping stage, because it takes up enough space in the bowl to prevent the letter from getting soaked. Snafu's ruined more than his fair share of correspondence that way on accident. And no one ever believes him when he explains he couldn't respond to the person's letter because a bird soaked it in milk. They never react well to his suggestion that they write in pencil rather than ink either (ink bleeds more when submerged).

Snafu feeds the parrot its well earned treat before he does anything else. Snafu doesn't do stairs, so he trained the parrots nesting in the palm tree outside his window to collect his mail for him. Well, he trained the parrots to collect everybody's mail. Any mail that doesn't belong to him he takes downstairs or leaves in front of his door. He is not popular among his neighbors.

Once the parrot has its treat, Snafu idly pets its head as he rips open the envelope and unfolds the letter. He recognized the writing the minute he saw the name on the envelope. He knows exactly what is coming:

Snafu you goddamn idiot,

Sledgehammer came to my wedding alone. So tell me: what the hell did you do? I told you not to do anything stupid. Sledgehammer is graciously not saying nothing about anything, so I'm writing to you instead. I don't know what's going on in that fool head of yours, but if you think Gene has forgotten you, think again. You of all people know how hard it was for me to risk my pride, and put my heart on the line, and ask Florence to marry me - someone half a world away who she barely just met. But I knew, and I knew she knew, and we built a life on that. I think the least you could do is afford Eugene that same trust. Make it right, Snafu. Or I will drive to New Orleans and drag you to Mobile myself. Kicking and screaming if necessary.

Love, Burgie

Snafu jumps when suddenly his door bangs. The hinges rattle with the force of whoever is knocking. Snafu has a bad premonition about this.

The door bangs again. The person is not giving up.

Snafu sets the letter down on the table and stands. The parrot flies to his shoulder and hops until it presses against his neck. It stretches and picks at Snafu's hair. The parrots always seem to like curls. Snafu swears fifty percent of their nest comes from off his head.

More banging from his door. Snafu is living in a cheap place, he's fairly certain his poor flimsy door can't take much more of this. So he opens it.

An irate redhead stands on the other side.

Eugene's eyes zero in on Snafu's parrot friend, "Of course you have birds delivering your mail for you, you lazy sonofabitch."

Snafu stands stunned.

"I had that letter in my hand," Eugene points to Snafu's table, "All ready to bring it to you personally after driving all the way to New Orleans to do so…" Eugene takes a deep breath, he is panting from climbing all those stairs, "...when suddenly the rare monk parrot I was casually admiring in the palm tree nearby screeched at me holy murder and dove straight for me. I ducked, held my hands up to protect my eyes, and the bird plucked Burgie's letter right out of my grasp. And then," another frustrated breath for emphasis on his next statement, "I watched it fly through your fourth story window."

"There's a lotta steps," Snafu shrugs, "I don't do steps."

"Merriell," Eugene pleads. He's desperate, out of breath, with tired pretty eyes. He's never looked prettier, yet somehow Snafu always knew he was this pretty. He's Eugene - of course he's still pretty.

"Gene," Snafu drawls, and the name feels the same in his mouth as it always did, all that love and affection right at the tip of his tongue.

Eugene storms through the door and wraps his hands around Snafu's head, and kisses him. He dislodges the parrot on Snafu's shoulder in the process. At first the parrot protests with shrieks, till it moves to Eugene's shoulder, and gets a good look at his hair, and then decides to perch inside it.

Eugene ignores the bird. He kicks the door closed and drags Snafu against his body with all his strength. Eugene is softer than he was in the war, and it's a hell of a lot more comfortable to be engulfed by him. Snafu barely pays attention to the kiss, he's too busy touching. He missed Eugene's neck, his hips, his hands.

All these years...Snafu's finally home again. The bird certainly seems to be making itself at home too - in Eugene's hair. Snafu supposes the parrots must be partial to gingers. He sympathizes.

Snafu starts pulling at Eugene's clothes, trying to drag him further into the room.

"Uhhh, Snaf?" Eugene asks.

"Yeah?" Snafu freezes, his nerves on edge.

"Will the bird stay in my hair...the whole time…?"

Snafu stares at Gene. "You don't like the parrot?"

Eugene backtracks quickly. "Not that I don't appreciate the beauty of being able to observe such a rare species up close…"

Snafu smirks, "Pulling your leg, Sledgehammer." He lets go of Gene and beckons for him to follow. "C'mon, this is a one bedroom. If we feed the parrot a treat and go running into the bedroom it'll be too distracted to follow."

Eugene holds open the bedroom door while Snafu prepares a handful of treats. The parrot knows what's coming. It picks up the already opened envelope and cocks its head beguilingly.

"Looks like you when you want something from me," Eugene observes from a distance.

"Shut up, Gene," Snafu says. He tactfully apologizes to the bird for not being able to give it the attention it deserves right now, but if it will humbly accept his offer of a treat, Snafu would be so grateful.

"Talking to birds now?" Eugene asks, "When did that start? Before or after you broke my heart?"

"Gene, I swear to god I will throw this treat into the bedroom, let the bird follow, push you in, and lock you both there," Snafu snaps.

"More time to study the creature," Eugene counters. He pulls a notebook from his pocket and waggles it at Snafu.

Snafu carefully drops the treat on the plate, and then runs for Eugene, yelling, "Go, go go!" Snafu dives through the bedroom doorway and lands on his bed.

Eugene calmly steps in behind him and shuts the door. "I think you've gone a little crazy," he commented as he climbs onto the bed beside Snafu.

"Loneliness'll do that to a guy," Snafu says with his arms lazily behind his head, looking for all the world like he wasn't fleeing from a parrot five seconds ago.

Eugene lays alongside him and places his hand on Snafu's cheek. "Are you even going to apologize?" he asks.

"I love you," Snafu says instead.

Eugene groans and tips his whole body into Snafu's. They interlock together like puzzle pieces, and Eugene nuzzles his nose against Snafu's neck. "I'd have thought you'd given up on manufacturing chaos by now."

"I gave up alcohol, not chaos," Snafu grins, "S'why I talk to birds."

"I haven't slept in months," Eugene sighs.

"You look it," Snafu agrees. He rubs Eugene's back softly. Up and down, in a soothing manner. Every time his hand slides along Eugene's spine is a treat. Another reassurance that Eugene is alive, and well, and here.

Gene moans and turns his head into the pillow to block out the light.

"The only food I got in the house is shredded wheat and parrot treats, so if you're planning to stay we oughta go to the store before we go to sleep," Snafu comments.

Eugene snores deeply.

#sledgefu #bad germs #happy friday

[geeks-universe]

Bound By Blood: Where Worry Wakes

Future Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

A/N: Some answers, but more questions.

Your father was gone. Again.

You felt a little more at peace with it than you had before. The first time you’d left your father behind had been after a fight, one that still hadn’t been fully resolved. You were glad you could say that this wasn’t nearly as drastic, but you still did feel like you needed him there.

You were going through something and you weren’t sure what it was, but you needed somebody. Your father had always been someone who could shelter you from the supernatural, so it only felt right that you take this matter to him. He was far too busy at the moment. You could talk to him about it after you killed the demon.

Until then, you’d just have to deal with the sympathetic smiles Sam kept sending your way and the worried looks Dean kept giving you.

Speak of the devil, you thought bitterly.

Dean kept flicking his eyes in your direction. It was getting pretty late, but the three of you hadn’t turned in for the night quite yet. Sam had already picked out your next case from some website that claimed to know all about the supernatural. You highly doubted it, but you’d take anything that would get your mind off of whatever was happening to you.

“You should get some sleep,” Dean suggested lowly, casting you a long, meaningful look.

You sighed.

“Someone needs to stay up with you,” you argued weakly, your eyelids already far too heavy to offer any real company for Dean.

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m a grown man, I think I can handle it,” he grumbled, adjusting his position in the seat so he would be a little more alert, if only for a few minutes.

“Only if you promise to pull over soon. We’re all exhausted, we could use a real night of sleep.”

He nodded.

“Deal,” he stated, looking back at Sam, who was currently cuddled up along the backseat of the Impala, resting as peacefully as one can whilst on a hunt for a demon and lying on a bench that’s two sizes too small.

“Dean?”

Your voice gave him pause. It was meek, quiet, unlike the sarcastic drawl or bubbly tone he was used to. You sounded vulnerable, and that scared the hell out of him, because out of everyone in this family, he knew without a doubt that you were the strongest emotionally.

“Yeah?”

His mouth was suddenly dry, eyes unable to focus on driving. His finger was nervously tapping against the wheel while he awaited your response. You were struggling to form your words, looking around for something that might remind you of what, exactly, you were trying to say.

“Forget it,” you muttered, not bothering to ask him for advice on what was going on. He wouldn’t know anyways.

Dean was about to argue, about to inquire about what seemed so imperative you ask him just a moment ago. But one look into your eyes deterred him. They were lost, distant, and so very tired. Your knuckles were white from the pressure of pressing them so hard against your palms, droplets of blood seeping from the place your nails met the smooth skin of your hands.

“Like I said,” Dean offered, “Get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

The lull into a fitful sleep wasn’t an easy one, especially with Dean keeping such a close eye on you. Eventually, though, your exhaustion trumped the thoughts running rampant in your mind, and you found yourself fading into a golden dreamworld.

You were aware that you were dreaming, but you didn’t fight it. Instead, you allowed the calm land of the world around you to help you relax. 

“(Y/N).”

The voice wasn’t the lyrical tone you expected. It was harsh, a flaming red in a field of gold. 

You reached forward, dragging your fingers along the golden blades of grass, as you tried to ground yourself in the dreamworld.

“You are unexpected.”

It was a man. You could just begin to make out features, the slope of his nose and the purse of his lips. He was staring at you like you were an enigma, one he could manipulate and forge into a warrior for his own cause. 

Unconsciously, you took a step back, trying to put distance between you and him.

“Who are you?” You asked, your words uncharacteristically weak.

Just his presence in the sanctuary your mind had built for you felt wrong. It was tearing at the fabric of your consciousness, unwinding the golden symphony that had been protecting you.

Then, just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

The scene before you shifted, the aureate world shattering into darkness. Your father was there, bleeding, his words venom as he spoke, though you couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. Lightning flashed, pulling your gaze to the dark sky as veins of light crackled across the heavens.

Sam was there now.

His body was in tremors, a force pulling him down and down, further into the dark abyss. Whispers of madness curled around his form, solidifying to blood. Fear gave way to strength, as his eyes darkened to a black, and the Sam you knew was gone, replaced by a demonic beast.

You were rooted to the spot as he advanced on you, far faster than what any human would be able to do. A cold hand shoved you backwards, and you fell.

You struggled to grasp onto something, anything that could stop you. There was nothing. You kept falling, accelerating as the swirling in your stomach became a pit. Air was torn from your lungs as your limbs flailed, your head spinning at the weightlessness suddenly thrust upon you.

Then you landed.

It wasn’t painful, like the fall might suggest, but rather filled with a dread you couldn’t acknowledge.

This time, Dean was there.

His eyes were wide open, mouth twisted in a scream he couldn’t release. Blue tinged at the edges of his fingers, where he reached for you, and you rushed to his side. His heart was still in his chest, his body cold. Tears gathered in your eyes as you realized he was dead.

Your voice was silenced as you tried to cry out, begging yourself to wake up from the nightmare. Reprieve was offered by a hand on your shoulder.

It was filled with a warmth you’d never felt before. Dean gasped, life festering in his eyes as he smiled at you, like he hadn’t been dead just a moment before.

“What-”

“Nightmares,” the owner of the hand on your shoulder provided. “Or the future, I can’t tell anymore.”

You wanted to look at him, to understand who it was, but you couldn’t. Your whole body was frozen, caught in the position of mourning, while you tried desperately to make sense of everything around you.

“Now, I’d really like to know who you are, because you keep interrupting my dreams, sugar.”

A light shake was enough to have you bolting upright, reaching instinctively to your hip, where your gun typically sat. You hadn’t even been able to process the world in front of you, hopping into action before another strange dream left you immobile.

“Woah, hey,” Sam held his hands up in surrender, the bright sun blinding you from behind his tall stature.

You released a breath, dropping your gun to the floor of the Impala, where you’d fallen asleep. It took a few seconds to compose yourself, your eyes slipping shut as a wave of dizziness passed.

“Look, if you’re not okay…”

“I’m fine,” you told him, shrugging off his help as you got to your feet. He still remained close by, vigilant, just in case you were to keel over. “Where are we?”

“Richardson,” he answered, grabbing both his and your bag from the trunk. 

You fought a smile. Whenever Dean was worried about you, everyone in the vicinity knew about it. When Sam was worried though, he kept his actions a little more subtle. He’d take your bag in, or let you have the shower first. While being constantly worried about was a little smothering, you knew it was their way of expressing their love.

“Alright, where to first?”

There wasn’t a lot about the case you really knew, but Sam had done a decent bit of research to at least give you a place to start.

“For you? Here.” His tone brokered no argument, yet you found yourself disputing it anyways.

“You can’t keep me cooped up, you know.” You reminded him, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the Impala. “I’ve been hunting longer than you have.”

“Yes, but he hasn’t been… whatever the hell you’ve been lately.” Dean interjected, walking up to the driver’s side. He nodded his head in the direction of the motel room you would be staying in.

“We don’t really know what we’re walking into,” Sam reasoned, “I could use the extra help on the research front.”

Sam’s voice was much softer than Dean’s. He was trying to get you comfortable with the idea, rather than force it. You still frowned at being benched. Hunting was your escape more often than not, and without it you didn’t really know who you were.

“Just for this case,” you conceded, huffing while you did so.

Sam shot you a smile, but Dean kept a grim expression. You knew the two of you would definitely be clashing in the foreseeable future on whether you were prepared to hunt or not.

The two of them left shortly after without instructing you on anything about the case. Deciding it was better than being deadweight, you began the long and arduous journey of researching a hunting case. You really would’ve preferred being out in the field, but you didn’t have the energy of fighting both brothers right now.

A full day came and went of you doing little outside of research. You’d even called Bobby at one point, not because you needed anything, but because you were dreadfully bored.

You slept as little as possible, hoping to stay away from whatever was plaguing your dreams for the moment. It worked for the most part, but you knew it was only a temporary solution. After this case, you promised yourself you would divert more of your attention into understanding what was happening.

Between the three of you, you had discovered the haunting was little more than a farce- an urban legend turned real because of one pesky symbol and a whole lot of believing. 

“We need your help,” Dean admitted, after having a long discussion with Sam.

You looked up from the book you were reading with interest.

“Nothing dangerous,” he reaffirmed, meeting you with a grimace.

You visibly deflated at his disregard for your capabilities again.

“Their names are Ed and Harry,” Dean continued, blatantly ignoring your annoyance at him, “We just need you to feed them a little story, help us take down the whole thing.”

“And why would they listen to me?” You inquired, raising a brow.

“You’re a girl,” Sam deadpanned from his place in the doorway. “I don’t know about this, maybe-”

“Relax, Samwise,” you waved off his concern, reminding him of the nickname you so lovingly gave him years ago, “Nothing dangerous, like Dean said.”

Your smile was too sweet, and your eyes too filled with mischief, but the brother’s didn’t argue.

This was your opportunity to remind them of how much of an asset you were. You weren’t about to disappoint, but you also weren’t about to miss out on having a little fun, especially at their expense.

#sam winchester x sister reader #dean winchester x sister reader #future gabriel x reader #gabriel imagine #supernatural imagine #ope we saw gabe #briefly #yes that was a confirmed gabe sighting #also can you guess who the real bad dude was? #ill give you one chance #you already know ed and harry are gonna be absolutely blown away #theyre meeting like a real life buffy #but even cooler #because i made the reader hella bad ass in this oops #bbb

[chuuyasnumber1simp]

Born of Lies, but Learning to Love- Extra

A/N: i thought of this awhile back, when i was working out the plan and storyline, but couldn’t fit it into the storyline. 

So, i thought it’d make it a cute lil extra! It takes place during the two days Y/N had to stay home and heal from her injury's :)

It’s not mandatory to read, but i think it adds a little more to You and Chuuya’s relationship. 

Part One 

Warnings: alcohol consumption, Reader getting drunk, a serious conversation while drunk, F L U F F 

Chuuya’s POV:

It was quite sad watching you drift about the house, like you were looking for something and hoped to find in the various paintings and things he had in his lavish house. 

Chuuya enjoyed the finer things in life, and he imagined you didn’t even know what the finer things were. You looked out of place, dressed in the same clothes he had given you to change into, and despite your sizes being close, the sweatshirt dwarfed your form. 

It made Chuuya sad, because here you looked normal. Like you had never endured the things you had. 

He likened you to an old painting. From far away, it was beautifully constructed, a perfect depiction. but the closer he got, the more he saw the cracks in the old paint. The blemishes, the mistakes. Places where you had been broken and then pieced back together, but much like old paintings, most people never got close enough to notice. Never cared to look deeper than the weapon you were made to be. 

You usually sat in the living room, watching tv. He found it adorable how, out of everything Chuuya had in his house -and there was quite a lot- His tv fascinated you the most. You would sit there for hours, switching back and forth between channels, never staying on one for too long. Eventually, he saw you mouthing the words to a gum commercial, but you stopped when you noticed him staring. 

“You know there’s more to watch than the news and the fashion channel,”

“I know. These require the least amount of reading, though,”

“Do you know what a Soap Opera is?” 

“An Opera involving soap?”

Chuuya chuckled at your literal guess. “Nice try, but no. They’re like regular Tv shows, but way more dramatic,”

“Do they involve reading?”

“Not really,”

“Are there any on right now?”

“No,” Chuuya watched you deflate a little bit, and you turned back to watching a lady explain the difference between satin and silk. 

“But,” You turned back to him instantly. “I just so happen to have the entire series of When Calls the Heart on DVD. Do you want to watch it?”

You slowly nodded your head, like you were scared to give a definite answer. 

Now, you sat in front of of the couch, bowl of popcorn in lap, another thing you had taken a special interest in. 

“You can sit up on the couch next to me, if you want to,”

“I can see the TV better from here,”

Chuuya popped open a bottle of Merlot, opting for something simpler, relishing the smoother and fruity taste. 

Although he would not admit it to anyone, he had already watched all five seasons of it. And shed a couple tears during certain scenes. 

Much to his surprise, you were completely enamored with what you saw on screen. The drama about Elizabeth Thatcher, a young teacher accustomed to high society, experiencing a culture shock when she gets her first classroom assignment in Coal Valley, seemed like the most interesting thing in your entire life. 

During the opening of the next episode, you turned around to face Chuuya.

“What are you drinking?”

“Wine. Merlot, specifically,”

You stared at the glass in his hand, and opened your mouth to say something, then thought better of it, and faced the tv once more. 

It took four episodes of you sneaking glances at the bottle for Chuuya to speak up. 

“Did you want some?” 

You shook your head no, but the way you kept eyeing the red liquid that sloshed in his cup said otherwise. 

He grabbed another glass from the kitchen, then poured a small amount into it, silently handing it to you. 

Against his better judgment, he set the bottle on the coffee table, hoping that if you did like it, you would use self control. 

Chuuya wasn’t a forgetful person. But he did however, forget that if you didn’t know what wine was, then there was no way you knew that, if drunk in large quantities, made you very intoxicated. And that, if drunken on an empty stomach, it enters your bloodstream a thousand times faster. 

“Chuuya -hic- did you know that this subordinate of yours tried to hit on me?”

You were currently lying face down on the ground, legs and arms spread out like a starfish. 

Chuuya found it very hard not to laugh. 

“I made an illusion of me stabbing him, then when it was over, I -hic- slapped him in the face. He deserved it, he was gross,”

“Is that so?” 

You looked up at his face, and then squinted. 

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for any imperfections on your face. I can’t find any, though,”

Even though he was sure you had absolutely no idea how your words could come across, Chuuya could still feel some heat rising to his face. 

He watched you stand up on wobbly legs, then walk towards his seat on the couch. Although, with how drunk you were, it was kind of more like you tripped your way over to him. 

The show was still playing, but what surprised him was when you plopped yourself down on the couch next to him. 

“Sss cold. And your very warm,” you wrapped your arms around his torso, and practically melted into his body. 

You did not move from that position for at least an hour, eyes still focused on the show playing before you. A scene came on where the main couple began dancing, and you turned your wide eyes to Chuuya’s once more. 

He swore that he’d never found you this attractive before this. It’s just the wine in your system, idiot. There’s no way your actually falling for her. 

“Can we try that?” You pointed to the dancing. 

“Sure,” Chuuya shrugged, the little buzz he had washing away his usual inhibition's. 

He stood up off the couch and dragged your drunken form to the middle of the living room. Grabbing your hand’s in his, he slowly swayed back and forth to the sound of the show. It was in no way graceful, you were drunk and never danced before, and he was a bit tipsy himself, which lead to him chuckling every so often when you would trip over your feet, or step on his, but nonetheless, it was enjoyable. 

He was happy. 

Chuuya enjoyed many things in his life, but they failed to make him feel the way he did now, drunkenly dancing with you in his living room while a soap opera played in the background. It felt like a ream, though he was certain that was caused by the amount of alcohol the both of you consumed. 

“Sorry. I’m not good at dancing,”

Chuuya wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you closer to him. “You don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. Often times, learning to do something is more rewarding than getting it right the first time,”

“Where’s the fun in failing?”

“No one’s good at everything at first, not even you. Humans are exactly that- human. We are not perfect, but the strive to attain anything close to perfection is why we keep going everyday,”

“If that’s true, then what form of perfection are you trying to achieve?” Your words were slurred, but the message hidden beneath did not go unheard. 

Why are you doing this?

“I don’t know. Maybe the reason I get up in the morning is to find out what I’m reaching for,”

You lowered your hands from his, leaning forward to rest your head against his chest.

“For as long as I’ve lived, if gotten up everyday because i had to. That it would be a waste of my skills to stop, to just give up and die. Life didn;t hold meaning, everything seemed so empty and grey. But now that you’re here, it seems different,”

Chuuya wrapped his arms round you and rested his chin on your head. “How so?”

“You changed everything, always telling me i’m worth more than a weapon. I thought you were lying at first, to be honest. But now, I’m not so sure. 

But nonetheless, thank you, for showing me there’s more to life, more to me,”

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

You both stood that for awhile, Chuuya holding you close, swaying slightly, and you just leaning against him. 

He tried to extract you from his arms, but you tripped over his legs, and fell backwards. Being the gentleman he was, he grabbed you, but didn’t account for the fact that your momentum would take him down too. 

So there you both were, a tangle of limbs on the floor, and he heard it. 

You laughed. 

He was kind of hoarse, like your throat wasn’t used to making this noise, but it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. It was a melody he could listen to forever, and at that moment he knew that he wanted to hear it again. He wanted to be the reason you laughed. 

You both fell asleep there, the wine finally kicking in. 

But now, you had each other. 

A/N: omg im so sorry for how long this took to finish, school is kicking my booty. however, the issues have been resolved so i can finally resume writing this. Also this turned out a bit sadder than originally intended???? sorry abt that but the next chapter for this should be done by Sunday, so stay tuned :))))

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader

[btsslowburnfic]

Chthonic Love Chapter 10

Series Summary: A Greek Mythology AU featuring Yoongi/Suga as Hades and reader as Persephone. Olympian ruler Namjoon has delivered you, Persephone, as a gift for his brother, lord of Death, Yoongi

Chapter Summary: Beach Fluff

Previous Chapter here 

Yoongi sat looking at the letter. He leaned back in his seat, running both hands through his black hair. He cleared his throat for no particular reason. He had no idea what had gotten into Penthos lately. The demigod had been working for him for centuries and had never given him so much trouble before. He had always been dutiful and quiet. 

Yoongi abruptly got up and paced. He needed to physically distance himself from the missive. It was tempting to open it. Hell, it was tempting to burn it up and say he never got it. He had considered it for a few seconds but he realized you would never forgive him and he wasn’t willing to risk that. Even if giving you the letter meant you would be leaving. He looked out the window to the Desert of Sorrow. Aptly named. He felt a twinge in his chest as he thought about the last time the two of you had walked down to the beach together. 

He turned back to the office. He decided he should go and check on you since you were likely still recovering. He placed the letter carefully in his desk drawer and headed back to the main part of the castle. The hallways were silent now. Half the castle had probably heard him screaming earlier. He glanced in the Great Hall as he made his way to the Quicksilver room. It was empty. Good. He thought.

All the evidence of the earlier incident was gone. The vines had shriveled up quickly and Yoongi ordered the staff to clean them up and dispose of them. He knocked gently on your door, uncertain if you had woken up or not.

You were sitting on one of the benches when you heard the knock. “Come in,” you lazily yelled. 

You were surprised to see Yoongi poke his head into the room. “Oh good, you’re awake.” he said and gave a small smile.

“For a few hours. How are you feeling?” 

“I feel better than I have in years. You even fixed the permanent crick in my shoulder,” he commented. “May I come in?”

You smiled, “Uh, it’s your castle.”

“Yes but it’s your room.” He paused, giving you a look that you couldn’t quite identify. He swiped across his lips with his tongue, “How are you feeling?”

You took a deep breath out, “Honestly I’m still exhausted. Gods are apparently much harder to heal than animals and plants. Or even humans.” 

“Sorry again about all that.” he looked off to the side.

You looked back out through your window. “What time is it?”

“Morning. I missed last night’s reaping so it’s bound to be a big one today.” He tugged at his shirt sleeves.

“Oh.” You got up, suddenly remembering,  “Well then you probably need your shoes.” You had discovered Yoongi’s footwear after Lethe left this morning. It made you laugh and also feel butterflies in your stomach as you remembered part of the night before.  You picked them up and walked over to Yoongi.

“Thanks. Do you ever wear shoes?” he asked, looking down at your bare feet with concern.

You shrugged. “Feral.”

He laughed. “Obsidian is colder than the forest floor. Let me know if you need a pair.”

“But then I can’t feel the sand in my toes. I can’t imagine not being able to feel the desert or the beach.” 

‘Speaking of. I need to head out to the reaping.” he responded as he bent over to put his shoes on.  “Do you feel up to going?”

You bit your lip. You were still so tired. But you really liked the beach, and Holly, and walking with Yoongi. Without thinking you said, “Sure. I mean, if it’s safe to leave my room now.”

Yoongi froze for a moment. “Why wouldn’t it be safe to leave your room?”

You hadn’t thought much about it, walking over to the wardrobe to grab your new cloak. “You know because of what happened earlier.”

Yoongi blinked a few times, his mind not quite understanding. What part of his palace did you think was unsafe? Namjoon? Him?

You walked back over. “This cloak is so nice Yoongi. Thank you. And make sure to thank Arachne for me.”

“Are you afraid of Namoon?” he asked. The question surprised you, seeming to come from nowhere.

You scoffed, “No. Next time he shows up, let me have a piece of him. Why are you asking me that?”  You looked up at him,confused. 

“You said it wasn’t safe to leave your room and I’m wondering why.” he said, his face suddenly so serious. You felt him reach out and gently grab your forearm. “I want you to always feel safe when you’re with me.” His cheeks grew slightly pink and he coughed a bit, “I mean when you’re here. In the palace. In the underworld.” He clarified unnecessarily.

You stood there for a moment. You didn’t want to get anybody into trouble so you thought for a moment on how to carefully choose your words. “I heard there was talk of treason. That I tried to…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence and you looked down. You feel Yoongi’s hand gently touch your chin, tilting your head up. 

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. And let me assure you: you are safe here.” He was staring straight into your eyes, holding your chin in place. “If anyone or anything makes you feel otherwise, you tell me. Yeah?”

You nodded your head.

“Good, let’s get going.” 

You walked down the hallway as you wrapped your new cloak around you. So soft. The castle was always quiet, but at this time of morning, it was completely silent. It occurred to Yoongi that he had forgotten to tell you about the letter’s arrival. He had meant to but then he got distracted by the shoes and by you saying you were afraid. He resolved to tell you before the two of you returned from the reaping. 

When the two of you reached the end of the stone bridge, Yoongi slipped off his shoes. You looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m sad to say I’ve never felt the sand between my toes and it has come highly recommended.”  He said as he smiled and offered you his arm. You smiled and took it.

It occurred to you that he was being very cute today.  “Really? You’ve been here forever and you’ve never felt the sand under your feet?” The two of you started to walk over the dunes, the black sand caressing both of your bare feet.

“Nope.”

“Ok, well surely you’ve gone swimming in the Stygian Sea?”

“I can’t swim.” 

“Whaaaaat? The Lord of the Underworld can’t swim?” You were shocked.

He laughed and poked his tongue against the side of his mouth, a habit you had noticed when he was slightly embarrassed. “No. Why do you think Jin has the power over the Ocean and not me?” 

“Huh,” you commented. “I’m just surprised is all.” You realized that Yoongi was practically dragging you across the Desert. The sand provided so much resistance against your feet, it was exhausting. You were much more tired than you realized. If he did notice, he was kind enough not to say anything.

The two of you arrived on the beach a few moments later.  You gently unwrapped yourself from his side.  He raised his hands, shining the light against the horizon and a whole host of ships burst forth. Yoongi groaned. So many ships. Missing a reaping always meant extra work.

“Oh wow. You weren’t kidding.” you said as you observed dozens of ships crossing the sea. You sighed and turned towards him. “I’m going to stay here today if that’s alright.”

“Of course, I’ll come get you when I’m done.” He pulled his sleeves down over his palms and walked towards the estuary.

You approached the sea, letting the water lap against your ankles. It had been an eventful couple of days. You realized you had lost track of how long you had been here. The wind blew your hair back and you wrapped the cloak around your arms tighter. You peered across the horizon and wondered how far it was back to the mortal realm. 

You slowly backed out of the water and plopped your body down on the sand, reaching your arms behind you and stretching. You played with burying your feet, uncovering them, and reburying them. You were still so tired, you realized. You put the hood of your cloak up and laid all the way down, staring up at the greenish-gray sky. 

As expected, the reaping took forever. Each ship had to pass individually down the Estuary and each ship had to be checked through the gate. Yoongi puffed out his cheeks. At least he didn’t have any runners today. He had already fed and petted Holly and began to return to the beach. He looked at the shore and didn’t see you at first. As he got closer, he still didn’t see you and he began to feel his heart race. He thought it would be safe for you on the shore. Most of the Chthonic Beasts didn’t dare cross the mountains. He began to walk faster. He still didn’t see you so he began an all out sprint along the shore. What if you had decided to leave? He finally saw you, laying in the black cloak, on the black sand, blending in perfectly and apparently fast asleep. 

He exhaled, relieved. He hunched over with his hands on his thighs, panting. I guess she was still really tired he thought and sat down next to you. It occurred to him that he had never done this before. Just sat on the beach, looking at the sea. He always walked down, concluded his reaping, and went back to the castle. The Stygian Sea was actually quite pretty now that he stopped and looked at it while sitting on the shore. 

He looked over at you. There was really no reason to wake you, he thought. It's not like the two of you had anywhere to be. He started humming to himself and writing words in the sand. 

You blinked your eyes open. You heard Yoongi's deep voice next to you. He must have noticed you woke up because he abruptly stopped humming. 

"Keep going,” you whined and you heard him laugh. A low, rumbling sound that made you feel warm and buzzy inside. He did not indulge your request. You turned your head and looked at him. “I feel like all I do here is sleep." You remarked as you sat up halfway, elbows propped behind you. 

"That's fine. Think of this as the vacation to the Underworld you never planned on having." 

"I guess." You forced yourself to sit up the rest of the way. "I'll have to create a travel brochure for you." You shook the sand off your hood and lowered it. 

"Hey let's not get carried away. I like it nice and quiet here." He quickly looked away from you, and brought his hand to the back of his neck. "I need to tell you something. I meant to tell you when I first saw you this morning but I forgot." 

You felt a pang of nervousness, "OK. Well just tell me so I don't start freaking out about it." 

"You got a letter last night. Penthos gave it to me this morning and it's in my office.” He sat and waited for you to react, half expecting you to bolt up and take off running to open it.

“Oh. That was faster than I expected.” You said, making no effort to take off running toward the palace. “Did you open it?”

Yoongi sat there surprised that nothing changed in your demeanor despite hearing this news. “No. It’s addressed to you.” He said simply.

You sat there for a minute appreciating how respectful he was of your space. Your room. Your letters. Even though he was the Lord of this realm, he always made sure to try and make you feel comfortable here. And you did. You felt more comfortable here than you ever did at your brother’s court. Hoseok was always up in your shit. He’d read your letters, stomp into your room at all hours whenever he capriciously decided it was time for a chat. The palace was always full of gossips and his “fans.” 

“Thanks. I guess we’ll have to open it when we get back.” You said, looking over at him. He had an expression on his face you couldn’t quite place. A little bit sad, which you had realized was normal for Yoongi and something else you couldn’t quite name. “Are you ok?”

Yoongi blinked a few times while staring at you. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked him that question. Or if anyone ever had. Truthfully, he was a mess on the inside. He was worried about what the letter said, he was worried about how Penthos had acted earlier, he was sad about how things would be after you left, he was still anxious about Namjoon’s appearance yesterday. 

“It must be hard being in charge of everything,” you said, breaking up the silence. “All of the other Olympians have other Gods and demigods around them all the time. Do you ever get lonely down here?” 

Yoongi abruptly looked away. You didn’t think he was going to answer your question. Which was fine. You had surmised he wasn’t the most in touch with his feelings. You reached over ever so quietly and put your hand on top of his, wrapping it around. You looked back at the Sea. 

Suddenly Yoongi felt like it was 500 degrees outside and that there was a drum in his chest. He looked down at where you were tentatively holding his hand. He shook his bangs out of his face and cleared his throat. “Yes.” He coughed. “Not since you’ve been here though.” He felt you lightly squeeze his hand. 

 You turned and looked at him, “Good.” You smiled. “I like it here.” 

Yoongi felt his heart beating in his ears. He wasn’t used to all these feelings he was having. He almost started to ask you how long you would stay when he felt you let go of his hand. You stretched your arms up over your head. “Alright, let’s go see what that idiot has to say for himself.” you said as you stood up.

Yoongi got up as well, feeling nauseous at the thought of you reading the letter. Hey, it’s ok. She said she likes it here. She’s not in a hurry. He tried to reassure himself.

You looked behind you to see Yoongi standing on the beach, clearly having an internal struggle of some sort. You walked back over and took his hand. “What's your review of the sand between your toes?” You asked him as you started to lead the two of you back towards the dunes.

He smirked. “I think I’ll stick with shoes. The thought of having to shake all this sand off has me rethinking my choices.” 

“Oh please, this sand is so smooth it comes right off,” you retorted. 

“I’ll defer to your expertise but we’ll see when we get home.” Yoongi caught himself and even just yesterday he would have stopped and corrected himself, calling it “the palace” and overthinking it.  He stiffened slightly, waiting to see if you would say anything about it. 

“I’m telling you, it will fall right off.” You continued the conversation like nothing had happened. Yoongi was able to breathe normally again. You felt your cheeks grow warm though when he said “home.” Yes. You felt more at home here in a week you had been here than you ever had anywhere else. You wondered if he had even noticed. NEXT CHAPTER

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts au fanfic #bts yoongi x reader #bts suga x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi scenarios #suga x reader #suga x you #suga fluff #yoongi imagine

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

A\N Choices Fan Fiction with characters from The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

@lxaah11​   @alleksa16​   @penguininapinktuxedo​   @blackcoffee85​   @stopforamoment​     @hopelessromantic1352​     @krsnlove     @annekebbphotography        @hopelessromantic1352   . @sunflowergirl05   @desireepow-1986  @greywitchyshots   @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker   . @trappedinfandoms   @kate-mckenzie

A/N This is the final chapter for this storyline. Thank you so much for reading this and enjoying it with me. I will still offer shorts and requests for this pair in this storyline. My next series for Thomas and Amanda will be the, “what if” she never told him about being part of the selection for Liam’s bride. The trip to Lake Tahoe will not result in their hasty marriage. No Lauren. None of what has happened here. If you would like to be tagged in this, please let me know in the comments. The new series will be called, And Then I Left You. Cheesy right? LOL!

Masterlist

Part 27 

Lord Thurston Vancouer’s study, Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

Lauren stilled at Tariq's words.

"You," her eyes narrowed, "you are ending our engagement?!"

"Yes." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I have already sent in my statement to the press and--"

"You did what?" She screeched. "How dare you! I should have been the one to do that." She stepped forward and slapped him. "Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation?"

Tariq's jaw spasmed from the impact. He calmly turned his head back toward her.

Her temper flared even more at his silence. “I gave up my career for you, you bastard!” She raised her hand to slap him again.

His hand shot up, grasping her wrist. “I think this is for the best.”

“You think so?” Her lips curled in a snarl. “You will regret this.”

His expression hardened. “I think I will regret it more if I don’t end things now.”

Lauren yanked her hand away.  “You weren’t the only man who wanted me to marry him.” Her chin lifted as she tried her best to look down her nose at him. “I was told by your friend to dump your sorry ass and choose him.” 

Tariq merely shrugged causing her vengeful temper to burst. 

“It’s Blair isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I’ve been oblivious to the extra time you have been spending with her.”

“She is in a sense a reason behind my decision.” He responded. “But mostly, she opened my eyes to your true nature.”

“You haven’t even begun to see my true nature.” She warned. “But you will. You will see all that I am as I destroy every single thing you love.” 

Her smile sent chills down Tariq’s back as did the words that followed.

“I think I will start with Arabella. That will punish not only Neville for what he did to me, but will also hurt your precious Blair. Then I’ll--” 

“I don’t think you will have the chance to do anything to my daughters or son.” Lord Thurston’s hard tone cut through her tirade.

Lauren paled when she saw members of the King’s Guard fan out around the study behind Lord Thurston. 

“Your time in Cordonia has come to an end.” Thurston told her. “In fact, I believe you will never have an opportunity to hurt anyone ever again.”

Lauren screamed out her denial when the the guards moved to take her into custody.

“You can’t do this! I--” she was silenced by the guards forcing her to the ground to handcuff her.

An Interpol agent stood by, watching it all unfold while reading out the crimes she was accused of.

Arabella and Blair stood silently with Neville in the hallway as Lauren was dragged out, screaming and crying.

“We must inform Lady Olivia and Lady Amanda that it is done.” Thurston said once the front door closed behind the guards..

“I’ll call Olivia.” Arabella ran off, excited to not only see Lauren taken away, but at also recording the whole incident. She knew a few popular reporters in Cordonia who would appreciate this video.

“I’ll make certain that Lady Amanda is told.” Blair went to Tariq and gently squeezed his hand. Her eyes met his. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, a gentle smile formed over her concern for him. “I am now.”

With a whispered promise to talk to him soon, she left the three men alone.

Thurston cleared his throat to break the tense silence and waved toward his study. “I believe we need to clear the air between you two.”

“There is no need.” Tariq replied. He averted his eyes from the two. “It will take time, but I refuse to let what happened ruin my relationship with the Vancouer’s.”

Neville lowered his head. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that to you.” He lifted remorseful eyes to his old friend. “I humbly ask your forgiveness.”

Thurston wisely remained silent as he watched his son and the man he considered a second son. He knew that this was something that only they could resolve.

Tariq shifted from foot to foot. “I won’t insult you by lying that I understand why you did it or that it didn’t hurt to hear that you--” he shook his head. “I consider you and your family as my own. And if things go as I think, then we will be brothers in truth one day.” His shoulders straightened. “You will have my forgiveness, but it will take a long time for you to regain my trust.”

Thurston looked on in approval as the two shook hands, his son expressing once more his sorrow for his actions.

Time would heal these wounds.

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

The night before in Monterisso, Queen Amalas's private quarters...

"Enough haggling." Olivia grumbled. "I've offered my services the next time you need them." She folded her arms, leveling her basilisk gaze upon the Queen of Spies. "What have you found out about Lauren Benefield?"

Amalas poured them each a glass of wine. "Have a seat."

Olivia eyed the crystal goblet.

"Please." Amalas rolled her eyes. "Why would I make deals if I planned on poisoning you?"

Olivia set the glass down. "I know you didn't poison it. I am here on business, not some social call."

The queen's expression held hints of approval. "And this is why I offered my services to you." She pulled out a small flash drive and tossed it to her. "That, your grace, holds everything."

Olivia quirked an eyebrow. "I assume you kept a copy for yourself."

Amalas silently raised her glass in a toast. "Wouldn't you?"

Olivia's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Naturally."

The Queen pressed a button under her desk. The wall to the left opened, revealing a series of monitors.

Amalas took her own copy of the flash drive and began to pull up all she had discovered on Lauren Benefield.

"It is a good thing you managed to have Lauren quit Lord Hunt's picture.” She began, “ Here's a brief synopsis of what I discovered about her and her associate, Viktor Montmarte.

Olivia pulled up a chair and began reading. Her complexion paled due to some of what she read.

"Kidnapping. Drugs. Sex trafficking. Rape. Extortion." She clicked and saw the small island in the south Pacific that Viktor owned.

"Lauren was not only partaking of these activities." Amalas explained. "She was handpicking underage girls and having them sent to his island," her voice hardened in anger, "under the guise that this was their big break into Hollywood."

Olivia's eyes widened at the satellite images of what was happening around Viktor's estate. "Dear God."

"Interpol along with the FBI are thrilled that I was able to get some concrete evidence." Amalas explained. "I've been working with them the past few months." Her voice turned cold. “Montmarte has friends in very high places that have been helping him stay just under the radar.” Her eyes narrowed. “I knew he couldn’t be doing all this on his own.”

"And when you saw what Lauren was doing to Thomas and Amanda, you were able to get the final piece to the puzzle?" Olivia murmured.

"I didn't know if she was a victim or a partner of Viktor's. Once I tapped into their conversations while she was at Lythikos, I was able to see how deeply involved she was." Amalas enlarged a photo of Lauren smiling as she disembarked off a plane with two teenage girls. "Without her help, Viktor wouldn't have gotten half of the girls he and his friends preferred."

Olivia clicked on another image of Lauren and Viktor at a pool party. The actress was laughing while holding down a young woman in tears so that the producer could forcefully fondle her.

Amalas clicked back to her notes. "I discovered this too." She pulled up a recorded conversation between Viktor and Lauren from when she first began working with Thomas. "Lauren records everything in case she needs to blackmail Viktor and vice versa."

Viktor: How's your seduction going?

Lauren: *laughter* Slow. I have to handle Thomas with kid gloves.

Viktor: If anyone can do it, it's you.

Lauren: I know. *more laughter* Don't worry. I won't forget about you. Once Mr. Hunt is mine, I will give you his grieving wife.

Viktor: *chuckle* I have plans for the duchess.

Lauren: I bet you do.

Viktor: I haven't ever had a noble before. *sinister chuckle* Perhaps I should use the gold rope when I tie her up.

Lauren: Promise me that I get to watch. I can't wait to see her content, happy face devastated.

Viktor: I promise it will be all that you desire, my dear.

Lauren: Maybe we should first force her to watch what I do with Thomas. That will really get her.

Viktor: The more broken they are the more turned on I get. We'll use the rooms with the two-way mirrors. I’ll start by--

Olivia turned it off. Her rage exploded as she stood abruptly from her chair.

"I--" tears sparked her green eyes. "I can't believe--" words failed her as she thought of her closest friend encountering such evil. That she actually had this person in her home as a guest.

Amalas placed a comforting hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Don't worry." She closed the files. "Once America and Europe are finished, these two will be permanently placed in a dank cell."

“They don’t deserve that consideration.” Olivia snapped. “To think of all the lives they have ruined.”

Later that night, Olivia called Liam and Bastien. She explained all that she had discovered, urging them to alert Lord Thurston to guard Arabella and Blair.

Plans were made to have the actress apprehended and held for extradition. Liam promised to call Tariq to go ahead an issue a statement that his engagement was over before the scandal struck.

After talking to them, Olivia called Amanda.

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

St Orella, Cordonia, the next day...

Thomas was in no state to continue filming. Last night's discovery had nearly broke him. Knowing he would have been the one that brought about harm to Amanda and their life together had devastated him.

He had briefly explained to Holly to have the crew take a few days off while he came to terms with everything.

He then spent the morning on the balcony, staring off at the waves, crashing against the rocky shore.

"How long have you been out here?" Amanda asked once she found him.

"Sunrise." He replied, unable to look directly at her.

She came over and sat next to him. Her hand slipped into his as she turned her attention to the beauty before them.

Thomas couldn't take the simple kindness. He rose abruptly and went to stand over at the balustrade.

"Thomas?" Amanda followed him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "What's--"

He jerked out of her grasp. "I need to be alone."

Her eyes searched his, causing him to avert his gaze.

"Why?" She asked.

Thomas ran his hands over his face. "You know why."

She leaned against the balustrade, silently observing her husband’s odd behavior.

He couldn't take it. He left her without a word and went directly to their closet.

Amanda followed him, watching as he began to pack.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "We don't leave for the capital until Thursday."

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "I'm not going to the capital."

"What? Why?" Amanda couldn't take him avoiding her and blocked his path. "We must attend Liam's coronation!"

Thomas stilled when she took his hands. His head dropped, wishing she would order him to leave and never return. He didn’t deserve her. 

"Are you angry with me?" She asked.

His head jerked up. "What would I have to be angry with you for?" His expression hardened. "Were you the one to insist on having an actress be around the one you vowed to protect? Were you the one who dismissed all the concerns voiced by those you trust?" His voice cracked. "Did you leave the one you love more than anything alone with such a person nearby to film on location?"

Amanda stepped closer, winding her arms around him. "You didn't know Lauren was that evil. You thought she was a flirt. A woman who got off on destroying people's lives with affairs."

"I should have put two and two together." He snapped, completely disgusted at himself. "I suspected Viktor of predatory behavior with young actresses. I should have seen that his closeness to Lauren meant that they were of like mind."

His temper broke as he thought over all his decisions concerning the actress. “AND I’M THE FOOL WHO BROUGHT THEM INTO OUR HOME!”

His voice echoed in their bedroom. A nervous Hudson knocked on the door, forcing Thomas to quickly apologize for his outburst.

Amanda shushed him, pulling him closer to her. The morning's news had shown the actress being extradited from Cordonia while Viktor was simultaneously being dragged from his Hollywood mansion in the middle of the night. Some other famous people and those in the business and diplomatic world were being held for questioning and arrested.

"It's over." She said softly. "Neither Viktor nor Lauren will ever have a chance to hurt someone again." She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "And thankfully, they did not have a chance to hurt us as they had planned."

"If they had, I--" he swallowed at the lump in his throat. "I could have lost you."

Amanda shook her head. "You wouldn't have lost me." 

She tried to kiss him. Prove to him that all was as it should be.

He broke away. "I would have. If Lauren had succeeded in making you believe I was having an affair. If Viktor had succeeded in--" his fist clinched, wishing he had them wrapped around the man's throat. "I would have lost you."

She tried to say he wouldn't, yet, she knew deep down that he very well might have. As she imagined how she would be after going through something like that, she realized what would have happened if they had divorced.

"We would have found our way back to each other."

Thomas raised his heartbroken eyes back to hers. "You sound so certain."

"Not only do I love you, I need you." She admitted. "You give me comfort." She tugged on his arms to hold her. "You listen to me, try to help me...I would have needed all that if they had succeeded." She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Your touch alone helps ease any worry or pain I have."

He clutched her tight, words failing at how she did the same for him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them remain there as he allowed her to ease the tension within him.

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

Fives Months Later, Hollywood...

Thomas tugged at his bowtie while he waited downstairs. He reviewed the speech he had written for tonight’s premiere of The Earl’s Undoing.

“You’re going to ruin that if you keep pulling at it.” 

He looked up and smiled at his wife coming downstairs. Slipping the notecards in his breast pocket, he met her at the bottom step.

“I must admit that I feel those same butterflies that I had the night you took me to the AFI’s awards.” She tilted her head when he kissed her cheek. “Are you sure this is what I should wear tonight?”

Thomas took her hand and twirled her. The rich royal blue gown sparkled in the lamp light. “You look beautiful.” 

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, smiling as he held her close. “You look very handsome.”

“I notice you say that whenever I wear a tuxedo.” He teased. “That is the only reason I keep wearing them to events.”

She laughed, slipping her arm in the bend of his. “We better go. Liam sent a text saying that they would be leaving the hotel in an hour.”

The two made their way to the theater. Cameras flashed as their limo pulled up.

“Ready?” Thomas asked.

“I think so.” She gripped his hand. 

“Normally, I would say we forget about it and go straight home.” He stepped out of the car and helped her out. As cameras flashed and cheers were yelled, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “But I want everyone to see how proud I am that you let me direct your story.”

Cameras once again captured the moment the two looked at one another. The tender smile and obvious love was seen by all along with the sweet kiss the duchess gave her director.

That night, Thomas did not remain dismissive of any question posed about the film. With Amanda by his side, he remained for the most part, almost pleasant with the invasive inquiries of their life together and whether or not they would work on any more projects as they had with The Earl’s Undoing.

Finally making it inside the theater, they joined their friends who each had a hand in helping the couple get here together.

Once they all found their seats, Thomas whispered that he would be right back.

He made his way to the front of the packed auditorium and raised his hand for silence.

“Good evening.” He began. “I want to thank each person who made this movie possible. My gratitude to our friends from Cordonia who traveled here specifically to support us. And how grateful I am for those of you who came out tonight.” 

He cleared his throat and waited for the applause to die down. “Let me begin by saying what many directors that have come before me have said. This was a labor of love.” His eyes met Amanda’s. “But unlike the love we feel for our craft, mine was truly one of deep, heartfelt emotion. Without this story, I would have never met the author who ended up becoming the very love of my life.”

Amanda blinked back tears as he gave a brief story of how he had fallen in love with her while working towards making a movie. Beside her, Nadia, Riley, and Addison were sniffing and wiping their own tears. Even Olivia and Holly were slightly affected, both attempting to pretend they weren’t.

“What you will see on the screen is a love letter to my wife, Amanda.” He explained. “Every shot. Every line said in a particular way. Every bit of costume and scenery...it is all from my heart.” He once again met his wife’s unwavering gaze. “For the rest of my life, this movie will be my favorite of all time and all because I met you.”

#Thomas Hunt #choices red carpet diaries #choices thomas hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #and then I met you

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Ch. 21

I’m back and the story’s back! Hope you enjoy. It’s the final countdown. Only 9 more chapters to go. Enjoy!

“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this!” Calix hissed once his mother walked through the door.

Circe hastily finished closing the door, taking extra care to double check the locks on the marble doorway, though Calix suspected that was more for the sake of gathering her thoughts together than caution. As suspicious and paranoid villains could be, Coven members rarely tried to intrude in each other’s rooms or meddle in their business. Probably an ego thing, thinking the doings of others were beneath them.

Not that this was important to Calix right now.

They were on crunch time. In a week, less than a week considering the sun was already setting today, the Coven would invade Auradon. Wrecking long-awaited vengeance, and chaos on Auradonians. Auradonians, who, if we’re being honest, were too sheltered and pampered to know how to slap much less defend themselves. There would be blood if they didn’t stop it.

And his mom, his mom who never tried to drag people to “the other side” or cared who was the fairest, who was not vying to be the baddest of them all, was still going along with this.

“Calix, I told you, there’s no other option.” Circe faced him, elegantly strutting toward the nearest ottoman where she could talk to him face to face. Just like the old times, when she would give him romance advice or assure him he would not die from alcohol poisoning, but that’s what he got for trying to drink Bacchus under the table.

Only instead of maternal advice, the son was the one trying to steer his mother away from murder.

“Yes, there is an option.” Calix stressed the last words, mangling the velvet cushions under his grip. The only thing keeping him from taking one of the many statues of muscled Greek heroes and throwing it against the walls in frustration.

“You still have the option to do the right thing. Join us. King Ben will grant full pardon for being part of the original Coven. You’ll be considered a hero.”

“Hmph! You’re right. If I reformed, then they’ll completely forget my crimes.” Circe said sarcastically.

“Oh right, I did do that! I stopped turning men, idiots really, into animals. I found love, I raised a son, made a business and they still sent me here! I’m sorry but there’s no right option.” Circe’s face lost her bitter scowl for a moment, returning to the maternal gesture reserved for him. One that conveyed comfort but also firmness, “Not for me. Life’s just not fair.”

“But Mom….” Calix whined, cringing at how childish it was but also feeling the pit in his stomach grow. He felt helpless. He’d always been able to get his Mom to see his point of view. But that had been in small disputes like whether he should be allowed to go to Orpheus’ concert on a school night or not grounding him for fighting with one of his cousins and punching him in the face. Minor things really.

None of them dealing with Circe’s values or worldview or any of her decisions.

This time he was trying to fight her on something she actually cared about. And gods, he was losing. Or maybe his mom was as stubborn as Minos and he simply hadn’t noticed it before.

Either one boded badly for his friends.

“I’m sorry, koukla. Honestly I wished I had you before the Great Uniting. You would have been there during the fires and earthquakes and all that. The “Life’s not fair” wouldn’t be so surprising.” Circe gripped his hand, rubbing her fingers lovingly. But it was only jarring for Calix. It was like some surreal, sick joke that his Mom was acting like their disagreement was over a menial thing and not life or death. Good and Evil.

So Calix snatched his hand from his Mom’s grasp and squared his shoulders. Time to get tough because clearly he couldn’t rely on motherly love to just do what he wanted. He’d have to be rational. Play to her sense of self, and what she would get out of this.

“Athena help me.” He prayed.

“I know life is not fair already, Mom. You think I didn’t realize that when they shipped you here. Life is not fair. But what I don’t get is that you won’t consider leaving the Coven. You’re not like them, you don’t want to kill anyone.”

“No,” Circe sighed in admittence, slumping and conceding to him. A little bit but it was something. “I just want to turn King Adam into that Beast form he hates so much. Wait, no, no. A slug. If he becomes a beast, he has too much power to fight back.”

Calix stood up and began to pace around the room, tapping his chin as if in thought that he’d seen Socretes do during his lectures before zinging a student with some philosophical epiphany, “Really? You’re sticking with them, murderers and tyrannical narcissists for petty revenge.”

“Not petty! I’ve always been a reasonable person!” Circe yelled, selectively forgetitng the many exes she transformed because she got bored with them, “He is punishing me for my past mistakes. This damn Isle is “consequences for my actions.” Bastard! I’m giving him consequences for his actions, he’s going to be a slug!”

Calix nodded as if he understood how his Mom felt. Which he had at one point. But now, he was tired and slightly bruised and again, so so tired. He wanted this to be over. The mission. The spying on the Coven. This stupid repetitive fight.

“Mom, you’re not like them. We both know that. But other people don’t. Auradon will only remember you as one of the many evil Coven members. Not a reformed sorceress injustly sent here, trying to get back to her-”

His mom looked at him, a rush of emotions crossing her face in an instant. Understanding, thoughtfulness, concern, anger, resolve and firmness. “Enough, Calix, I made up my mind. I have nothing left. With the Coven, I get some sweet revenge. What do I get if I reform? A pardon while that hypocritical King Adam waits for a new mob requesting for “villains” to get shipped.”

Firmness and resolve were flush on her face. Firmness and resolve to stick with the Coven.

Calix breathed deeply, feeling an unwanted lump gather in his throat as he listened to his mom make possibly the biggest mistake of their lives.

And worse, that she felt she had to do this because she had nothing left.

Was he not there? He was something… someone who desperately wanted her back home. He wanted her so badly that his chest ached as another weight settled there. Couldn’t she see that? This mission, this seriousness and emotional honesty that he usually avoided most of his life, he was doing this because he wanted her back.

And she thought she had nothing.

He couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice  though he did his best. “You have nothing left if you choose to help the good? You’d get to live in Greece again. With me, your son. But I guess I’m not worth… I’m not-you know, since you have “nothing left.”

He turn to walk out the room, barely remembering to walk out the room was to be exposed in the hallway for any of the Coven to jeer and question him. Who already distrusted his surprise presence. So he swerved onto the right where the mosaic of Hermes’ cadacus was like an arrow to the private bathroom. Not better but he wanted to be alone.

He breathed in the faint wisp of steam that pervaded the room. His mom’s paltry attempt to make the closet-sized space echo the bathhouses at home. It had the faint hint of rotten bananas, another reminder of the poverty and dirt of the Isle that everyone wanted to get away from.

He sat on the toilet, hugging his knees to his chest like he had when he was a little and peering through the keyhole at one of his mom’s parties. It was a perfect position for how he felt, like a little boy who could do nothing to change his world. Just stare through the keyhole in relative safety and wait to see what would happen next.

He was hidden and alone.

So alone as he could hear his mom’s footsteps as she walked, he could see a pause outside the door from the shadow that peeked from the floor. But she didn’t knock. She walked away, walked away to the other door into the hallway to do who knows what with the Coven.

Damn his mom with her ideas of being a cool free range parent. For once, he actually wanted one of those Auradon helicopter moms he heard about. Like FG, constantly getting into his business and not letting arguments go.

Could his mom not see the big picture?

While she was storming King Adam’s castle for her damn revenge, the rest of the Coven would be destroying the kingdom. People wouldn’t just get transformed into animals. Hades, that would be a blessing. People would get killed.

And how could she forget him? He was willing to fight for their mission, he knew that he would have to when he agreed to join Jordan, but did his Mom not realize if the Coven took over, they’d mark him for dead. They’d go behind her back and her claims of “protection” to make sure he wouldn’t start any rebellions like he was doing now.

He glanced around the small room, desperate for something to numbly occupy his mind before he thought about something darker. His eyes landed on the cabinet.

Any Greek worth their sandals would carry some ouzo in their homes, and since he hadn’t since a wine rack in his mom’s museum-like room…...

Sweet Nike! There was a whole shelf of shot glasses with ouzo already poured into them. Circe must have needed it to deal with living in this dump and all the villains around her.

If there was anything that would help him with the awful weight on his chest, it would be this.

He lifted one shot glass to his lips and drank, relishing the sweet burning liqued that went down his throat as smoothly as a waterfall.

Then he took another glass, and he was about to reach for the third when a small, quiet voice reminded him that there was still a mission at stake. He had to report back to Uma and the others and give them the bad news that his mom would definitely not be helping them.

Normally, that reminder would have sent him to gulping down four more drinks but this time it stilled his hand.

Like he told his mother, there was a bigger picture at stake than just her revenge. There were bigger things at stake than his own feelings of sadness. He slowly closed the cabinet, leaning his head against the cool mirror. He tried to do the deep breathing and focus.

This was hard. Gods, it was hard, he had known that going in.

And okay, maybe he’d known that but hadn’t believed it until this moment.

He had thought it would be fun, just like another one of those adventures or a fairytale.

Auradon was built on fairytales and he had thought there would take the requisite two or three days, they fight a dragon or two and then they’d go home in victory and as a family.

But it’d been a month, they found out the villain’s grand plan but had no way to solve it and now, he was having personal issues with his mom.

This would be a good time for what Jordan dubbed, a deus ex machine or just in time denouncement.

“Life’s not fair.” That’s what his Mom said. Not just now, but several times. When his dad died, speared by an Arendellan fisherman’s net. Yet another thing Circe despised King Adam for, because those fishermen came from the King’s initiative for kingdoms to share their resources.

The Arendellans hadn’t been properly vetted, or simply hadn’t paid attention to the orientation that not all sirens were trying to siren-song them to their deaths. That some simply lounge around the oceans because it was literally their home.

He had learned that after he experienced his first time being dumped last year. Which honestly had been more of a shock than a devastation but still.

His mom being sent away had been the worst by far. This coming in a close second.

But in all the times, he learned that life was not fair. He also learned to deal with it and try to keep moving with his life. At one point there had been nothing he would have liked more to have stormed the castle and changed all the suspicious mobs into mice. That’s why he made friends with Morgaine Le Fey. She was the only one who understood the anger and pain he felt, and it felt good to share his revenge fantasies.

But that’s all they were. Fantasies. Rationally, he knew that would only prove their fears right.

Calix learned to adjust his attitude a bit after his mom left, trying his best to stay out of trouble now that his mother wouldn’t be able to bail him out of the dungeon. Also he was more aware of how people viewed him in light of his siren-sorcerer heritage. Where once he played up his casanova flirtatiousness, now he tried to moderate himself.

And he had been fine.

Part of his outgoingness was a purposefully middle finger to the Auradonian Magic Ban. He played up all the things the royals hated like awesome kinky sex, and lavish magic acts because what else could he do? He had no reason to go to a fancy school with the preppy royals. But he also couldn’t pursue a normal job since the magic that was part of him was forbidden.

So there was nothing to do but get into the dungeons a lot.

But in trying to curb himself into something more “acceptable,” it was annoying but also nice?

Sure, he had resented it at first, but it was also nice?

Not trying so hard to be so unflappable, to have a pick up line for every man and woman. Stop trying to hide the fact that occasionally he wanted to act like that romantic prince archtype who wrote poems and made sculptures for their beloved because sirens didn’t do that. To hide that he could be serious, that his feelings got hurt when someone, usually a satyr because satyrs are cranky assholes, crossed a line. Maybe it was adapting, maybe he was growing up?

He didn’t know, but he lifted his head from the mirror and the twitch in his hands to reach for another shotglass was gone.

It was time to man up and be serious. It sucked that his mom wasn’t going to help, but he still had a job to do to save Aurado. After all, maybe if they saved the Coven, KIng Ben would allow his mom back as a favor. Jordan was always saying he was a sweet pushover. Yeah, there was still a chance he could get his mom off the Isle. And then-

“Hey, Cal, how are you doing?” A warm breeze ruffled his hair in a show of pink smoke and there was Jordan leaning her chin in the crook of her neck like the most annoying yet heartstopping ghost ever.

Calix choked back a scream, losing his balance at the sight of another person in front of the mirror. This fall resulted in Calix hitting his head several times against the door in his ungraceful slide down the wall.

Probably looking more like a scandelized royal than a put together teenager with his hand clutching his heart, Calix gasped for his pulse to go back to normal.

“Fucking genies! Jordan, I told you, warn me before you pop up. Remember, you had that whole lesson about the importance of knocking before entering? It’s the same thing, I almost had a fucking heart attack!”

Jordan didn’t care, she simply raised an accusatory eyebrow, “Are you drinking?”

How the fuck did she always know that? Calix was sincerely starting to suspect that she planted a magic tracer on him. The number of times she popped when he was having a drink was too coincenidental. Or maybe he just drank all the time?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. He was a new, mature Calix now.

“Just a shot-” Calix held up a hand before Jordan could interrupt him, “Just a shot. But I stopped because we have bigger things to worry about like how my mom isn’t on our side.” Jordan slid down to sit next to him, “You stopped because I came in time, admit it.”

Calix rolled his eyes, “No, it wasn’t that. I stopped but I listened to the Jiminy Cricket that I finally released from the dungeons of my brain.”

Jordan put a hand on his, the serious anxious look that had become her normal expression the past month returned, “Calix, I know this thing with your mom is hard, but now is not the time to fall apart. Things will get better, I don’t know how, but I need you to promise me not to touch alcohol.”

Calix stared at Jordan, realizing that this wasn’t one of their usual banters. She really thought he was going to go on a binge, right at this moment.

Yes, Calix had done that before. The days after his father’s death for instance and his mom’s absence. But he hadn’t been on an high stakes mission then. It was just himself and his grief.

But to binge drink, when someone was depending on him. Never. She knew that. When they had a night on the town with Aziz, he had been the sober one. He refused the drinks his way because someone had to be the designated carpet flyer. And filmer of embarrassing drunken antics.

Though Jordan may have been too drunk to notice herself, his self-imposed maturity.

But did she really think that he’d fall apart at this moment when he managed to keep himself together for the past seven months. For the 4 weeks on this hellish Isle?

“Jordan, I am not on a bender.” Calix enunciated each word carefully, staring her straight in the eye so she could he was serious. A bit of an intimidating feat if Calix was being honest with himself. Not because it was Jordan, but because… well the only one he was serious or honest was with his mom. But there was a first time for everything.

“I am not drinking on this mission. The shot was a lapse but I know I’m on a bigger mission right now, so I stopped.” “But you never-”

“I used to. But I have matured. We all have matured if you haven’t noticed. The usual doesn’t apply here, so I promise you, I’m not going to drink my sorrows away. There is too much at stake.”

Jordan looked a bit freaked out by his proclamation because she was staring at him all wide-eyed, “But-are you sure? I don’t think you’re capable of-”

Calix clenched his jaw and glared. It was one thing for himself to be surprised at his maturity but it was kind of insulting that it was so hard for his best friend to comprehend. That apparently she thought he was “incapable” of change.

“Yes, I am. So are you going to insult me some more or would you like to carry on with important things like how are we going to pull this off without my mom’s extra power?”

Jordan closed her mouth, satisfactorily chastened. And then in another milestone of their first emotional talk, Jordan muttered under her breath, “Sorry.”

Eh, not really meaningful but it was enough.

“It’s fine.” Calix nudged her shoulder with his to show their was no real hard feelings.

Jordan didn’t look at him but leaned her head on his shoulder, “I’ve been messing up so much lately.”

Calix pursed his lips, not trusting himself to not say something that would send her in a mood. He’d seen her being all moody and mopy the last few days though he didn’t know the exact reason. She was probably regretting giving the leadership position to Uma (drunken decisions are rarely ones you enjoy the consequences of) but Calix thought she made a good choice. Uma was a bit stern and intimidating, but she knew she was doing and was more effective than Jordan could ever be.

He also sensed the tension between her and Aziz. Especially since that meant she was hanging around him more. Usually he wouldn’t mind that, but this was hanging out with an ulterior motive and he wasn’t going to get in the middle of whatever Agrabah sandstorm that was between them.

“Hey, you still have me. Besides, now we’re having that alone time talk that the heroes and sidekicks or the love interests have before they save the day. We can check that off our adventure list.” Jordan lifted her head from his shoulder to stare at him incredulously, “Wait whose the sidekick in the scenario?”

“You are, obviously! You’re the genie.” Calix said.

“Wha-but but-why can’t we be love interests?” Jordan protested. “We’re already friends with benefits. It’s too late for us.” Calix answered. “Well, I-”

There was a knock on the door, and a tentative, “Calix?” “I‘ll leave you to it, Uma says to report at 4 sharp.” Jordan whispered, and poofed away.

Calix opened the door, feeling more calm, “Yes, Mom?” Calix was swept into the warm arms of his mom, the smell of sea salt and roses sweeping over him as she hugged him tighter. Firm, steady, like she wasn’t going to let him go.

But she did, holding onto his shoulders, “I’m sorry, Calix. You’re right.”

“I am?” Calix asked, almost hitting himself in the head for questioning it instead of just celebrating.

“Yes, you’re right. I went to another meeting and I listened. I actually listened instead of envisioning what I would do with Beast.. And.. it’s stupid to say this. But they’re evil. Actually evil. It’s not just a “cross the border and destroy everything in sight” plan. They- they’re actually thorough. Mother Gothel and Evil Queen are using sorcery and the dwarf tunnels to get through to the castle. Nerissa and Maleficent are going to go in double dragon form and burn down the castle and corner the royal children in the basement. It’s just-I- I can’t ally myself with them.”

Circe’s eyes brimmed, “Especially when I have a son… I do want to come back to you. My revenge shouldn’t be before you.”

Calix nodded, pulling his mom in for another hug because gods knew they haven’t done this in a long time.

Now they had to report to the captain.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Any idea where that wench is now?” Harry snarled, slamming down a glass of rum so roughly that CJ could hear the crack of glass as well see as the spider-cracks on its side from her position behind the window curtains.

It was a cliche spot. So obvious that no one would think to look there, and that’s why CJ chose it.

After all, a true pirate and a true villain had to keep track of her competition.

After last night’s, in CJ’s opinion, humiliating talk with the mini Ak Coven or whatever they called themselves, it was clear that Lady Caine was not going to honor her word.

Well… Lady Caine hadn’t said that they wouldn’t use her plan to take over the Jolly Roger, in fact she had asked for CJ’s plan outlines, but…

CJ bristled at the way Caine had shoved her aside and wouldn’t let her speak in front of the group. As if she was an afterthought. A kiddie tagalong.

It was too familiar a feeling. It was like she was one of the Hook siblings again. The youngest one, the baby trying to play an adult’s game.

And after all she’d done, getting to Auradon on her own before Harriet or Harry, going to Neverland to retrieve James Hook’s compass, stealing and plundering across the Seven Seas…. Everyone still didn’t see her as a pirate in her own right.

By Davy Jones’ locker that was all going to change even if that was that was the last thing she did! Screw Lady Caine, supposed mother or not, she didn’t need anyone’s assistance. She didn’t want to be part of Lady Caine’s revenge on Beast plan.

All she wanted was to be on her ship, on her own with her infamy riding the waves.

She was going to plunder the Jolly Roger by herself.

So she snuck out of Hans and Staylan’s castle… Actually, disappointingly enough to CJ’s sense of showmanship, it was more like she walked out of the castle since no one cared where she went anyway.

And now she hid out in Captain Hook’s office behind the curtains in hopes of hearing of any plans or information that would be helpful to CJ’s future theft.

Unfortunately Hook was not the one using the office. Apparently he was blacked out in his bedroom.

Harriet and Harry were the ones in charge of Hook’s office. Harriet being the heir to the Jolly Roger.

CJ grinded her teeth, a stupid childhood habit that she thought she had outgrown. Along with her more obsessive pacing, a Hook trademark with their fear of ticking crocodiles. CJ bit her lip instead trying to curb her instincts but teh word “heir” just irritated her to no end.

Why should Harriet be the heir? Seriously!?!

Her sister was tough. One of the baddest, most intimidating Vks with her scarred eye, tattered eyepatch and half shaved head. Not to mention the numerous kraken-inspired tattoos running down her arms and neck. Yeah, she looked the part of a seafaring pirate.

But she didn’t do anything worth the name of piracy.

She inherited the crew from Captain Hook, an easy feat since they were spineless swabs, brainless and obedient.

They were sidekicks whose idiocy often hindered their looting runs than helped. Much like Smee was the clueless thorn that ruined most of Hook’s plans.

Besides, everyone knew that things stolen on the Isle were useless and valueless. The biggest treasure chest that Harriet ever stole was one of Captain Hook’s old buried treasures. The coins rusted over or chewed by sea mammals.

A rotting bone would have been more bright and shiny than that treasure.

And Harry….

Harry never bothered to fight for himself. He lowered the Hook name by acting as a little enforcer and first mate to that sea witch, Uma.

CJ couldn’t believe she once idolized them.

“Dun know. Don’t care.” Harriet rasped, wiping her lips, and rolling her eyes in that bored babysitter way that CJ and Harry seen their whole lives.

Harriet was a pirate without ambition. Yet another reason why she, Calista Jane Hook, should be the famous Hook of them all.

“The welp is scheming against us, how can you not care?” Harry growled

“Because it is just another game to her. She’ll get bored with the ship and go off again. You knwo her, obsesses with one thing and moves on. It doesn’t matter.”

CJ clenched her fist, her grinding teeth sounding obnoxiously loud in her head. Another game. Moves on. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter.

She was still a kid to them. How can they not see how serious she was? Why couldn’t they once admit that she was a good pirate.

Why couldn’t they do that?

She knew they were capable of it. When they were younger, they didn’t hold to their Dad’s value that you couldnt say a nice thing about anyone but yourself. Or a particularly gorgeous jewel.

But they didn’t dismiss her like Dad. They acknowledged her quick thinking and even quicker fingers. Her strength in swinging on ropes for her piraty entrances.

Why couldn’t they do that now? It’s like they and the rest of the world grew up, but they didn’t think she did. She was still an inconsequential child. She didn’t matter.

And a thought… dark and unwelcome like the girl’s shadow creatures entered her mind.

Freddie’s warm, sultry smile and bright eyes looking at her with unbidden delight. The kind of smile that made CJ forget about the fresh sweet smell of sea kelp calling to her or golden treasures blinding her eyes. The smile that made her want to fall into Freddie’s dark spell and nimble fingers until she forgot what light was.

The same, curving lips telling her that she wasn’t worth it. That Freddie would rather stay in Auradon than sail the seas with her. That she’d rather change herself so she could be a goody goodie among the luxuries of Auradon than be with her. That’d she’d rather be like Mal and those other traitors than be with her.

Cj bit her lip harder, trying to find one thought any thought that would distract her from the memory that was threatening to make her sink to her knees.

Freddie Faciliar, for all that CJ tried to distance herself from the shadow girl, relegating her to sidekick, to simply a best friend and occasional lover… Freddie was one treasurer she had had that she loved most of all.

And even Freddie rejected her.

What was it? With all her skills and ambition that no one would take her seriously? That no one respected or wanted her enough to listen.

Freddie’s green eyes flashed once more in her mind, fading and fading much like Freddie herself from CJ’s life.

No one wanted to stay with her.

CJ grinded her teeth again, a small spark of pride and fury flaring up in her despite the limited amount of movement she could without being caught. Anger was better than weakness or sadness. She had to focus on that.

Her time would come.

The day of the invasion, when everyone was distracted, she would take her rightful place alongside Ching Shih and Captain Hook as a pirate for the history books.

She would take that sword mounted on Captain Hook’s wall and use it for herself. She’d make this brainless, spineless crew walk the plank. She’d cut the ropes and sail through the barrier.

She’d kill anyone who got in her way.

And if that person was her sibling, so be it. Then they’d take her seriously.

After all, a pirate needed to be ruthless and backstabbing to be the best.

Because that was who she was. The best pirate the Isle and Auradon had ever seen.

#calix #circe #disney descendants #winner’s curse #chapter twenty one #cj hook #harriet hook #harry hook #my fanfic #my fanfiction #ocs

[agwitow]

Hey there's two parts to this. My first question is How do you handle writer’s block? Writing can be an emotionally draining and stressful pursuit. Any tips for aspiring writers? Bonus Question How do you deal with emotional impact of a book (on yourself) as you are writing the story?

Hi Nonny, thanks for asking!

Okay, so... I have thoughts about this, and that might make this answer a bit, uh, longer... than you were expecting. Sorry in advance if you were wanting something quick.

Right, so. Writer’s Block. The boogeyman of writers everywhere. We hear people complain about it all the time, there are tons of guides to beating it (I’m even writing an entire book about getting yourself unstuck when it strikes), and everyone will likely give you a different answer as to why it happens and how to beat it.

To my way of thinking, this is because there are several different types of writer’s block. Too Many Ideas, or Not Enough Ideas, or Mental/Physical Exhaustion, or Written Into a Corner, or Bogged Down By Details, or Missed A Step

1. Too Many Ideas

While this might not sound like it’s all that bad of a thing (how can a creative type have too many ideas?), it can actually be really frustrating to deal with. Sometimes it means you keep getting ideas for new projects, and sometimes it means you keep getting new ideas to squeeze into your current project, and then sometimes it means you keep thinking up different ways to tell the current story.

Ugh. Well. Silver lining, your creative juices are certainly flowing. But that doesn’t help you get any writing done.

So if you’ve got this type of writer’s block, the best way I’ve found to deal with it is to have a notebook or word doc (or something along those lines) to jot down all the ideas as the come to you. You can even have a separate document for the ideas that pertain specifically to your current project. But the trick here is that as soon as you write the idea down, you push it aside and ignore it.

This can be hard to do at first. New ideas are soooo shiny that you can’t help but want to play with them. So it can help if you set aside a bit of time every week to go over all the ideas you’ve jotted down. Just make sure it’s a time that’s distinct from your writing time. Once you’ve gotten into the habit of this, then the flurry of ideas will no longer hinder your writing.

Alternatively, you can try channeling all that extra creativity into another art form. Especially something big and messy ;) 

2. Not Enough Ideas

When people talk about experiencing writer’s block, they’re usually thinking it’s because you don’t know what to do next in your story (i.e., that you don’t have enough ideas), but this is actually pretty rare. Usually you’ve hit that block because of one of the other items on this list.

But, when it is because the well has run dry (so to speak), then it’s like trying to start a car with a dead battery. And just like that, you need to grab some jumper cables and give it a boost.

Do some yoga, go for a walk, listen to music, watch the clouds drift by, go stargazing, get your heart pumping, read poems that make you cry.

Basically, you need to shake things up. Drag yourself out of the rut you’ve found yourself in by doing things non-writing related. Not only is that good for your general health, it’ll recharge your creativity.

3. Mental/Physical Exhaustion

This type of writer’s block has probably become the most common over the last year or so. It is dang hard to be creative when you are mentally and/or physically drained. This can come about because of stress, lack of sleep (literal exhaustion), pain, injury, illness, or lack of self-care.

The most important thing with this type of writer’s block is to remember that it’s okay to take a break. Your mental and physical health is more important than completing a writing goal.

Give yourself the space to rest, and your creativity will return.

4. Written Into a Corner

Let me tell you, I’ve fallen into this one a lot. It sucks, and it can take awhile to figure out why it’s such a struggle to write. It usually happens when you are determined to have a specific event or sequence of events play out in your story, but your subconscious is recognizing that the scene/event/storyline doesn’t fit.

If you can’t seem to figure out how to connect your current scene to where you need to go next, then it’s very possible that you should remove the current scene entirely, or completely rewrite/change it.

You might think this only applies to pantsers (people who write without having an outline first), but it happens to plotters just as frequently. It’s not about a lack of planning, it’s about not realizing that the way you’re forcing the story doesn’t match with some other part of it. Maybe because of extra world building, or research, or character development, or lines of dialogue three chapters back, but whatever the reason, it’s made the current scene not-quite-fit.

This is okay. It’s not a failure of planning or creativity or you as a writer. It just happens sometimes.

Go back a scene or two and rethink how to get to the next plot point. Can you rework the troublesome scene? Do you need to remove it? Replace it with something else entirely? Whatever the solution, it’s okay. Your story will be better for it.

5. Bogged Down By Details

Along the same line as the previous one, this kind of writer’s block often leaves you unsure of how to progress to the next scene. The difference here is that this time it’s because you let the narrative point of the scene become lost in the minutiae. Maybe it’s a big info-dump, or maybe you let the characters get sidetracked by sightseeing, or maybe some random supporting character has been elevated to having a three-page monologue.

Whatever the cause, you’ve tried to cram too much information into the scene and now it feels weird to connect it to the next one.

Read over the scene and identify what information absolutely needs to be there for the story to progress. Is there any information that doesn’t need to be there, but is good set-up for something later? Keep those bits. Everything else you need to cut.

Yup. Sorry.

If you really like the information or dialogue or what-have-you, save it and see if you can work it in to other parts of the story in small bits. A little extra world building here and there can really make a story feel alive. It’s when there is too much in one spot that it becomes a problem. 

6. Missed A Step

This one is almost the opposite of the last two points. Instead of having too much, or conflicting information, you’re missing something. For me, this is usually a rewrite/edit writer’s block phenomenon, but I’m sure there are lots of writers who experience it during their first draft too.

Basically, in your hurry to get from point A to C, you forgot all about B. Whoops!

If you’re writing (or editing) and the scene feels disconnected or like you’re having to do a lot of flashback-style inserts to get the reader up to speed, then you probably need to add something to a previous scene, or add a new scene altogether.

Usually this one (at least for me) doesn’t feel as much of a ‘block’ as the other types, but more like I can’t move forward until something is resolved. That something being the missing info/scene.

So yup... there are different types of Writer’s Block, and how you deal with it depends on what type it is. You might find that you experience one type more than the others, or that you experience a different type that I didn’t describe (in which case, please share). However you are facing off against writer’s block, just remember that it isn’t the end of the world. It’s just a sign that something needs to change.

As far as tips for aspiring writers go, I’ve answered a couple of different asks about that sort of thing before, so (to keep this from being monstrously long) check those out.

For your bonus question... I just let myself cry when I need to, or bounce around after the scene is written, and/or do some light sparring with my partner to work out the anger/stress afterwards.

Emotionally charged scenes are rough, but so rewarding. Keep on writing ‘em :)

Thanks again for asking!

xoxo

#writing #writeblr #ask me anything #Anonymous #writer's block #writing advice