#the serious one is doing all the heavy lifting acting-wise

[vaguely-concerned]

I have seen people question whether dios apate minor really needed to happen the way it did. it's the 'this could have been an email' of htn. 'augustine this did not have to be a threesome', I hear people saying. and boy do I have an obnoxious amount of things to say to protest this perfectly sensible assertion so here we go haha

1) yes it absolutely had to be like that. It says so on this piece of paper *hands you a piece of paper that says "because I said so and also it's narratively and thematically Sexy"* in my half-legible handwriting. seeing tamsyn muir describe harrow the ninth as a book about being a kid and realizing your parents probably had sex has given me such validation, I am unstoppable now. (to be serious for a moment, harrow the ninth is essentially a bildungsroman, and the threesome scene does a whole lot of thematic heavy lifting around harrow glimpsing elements of adulthood, relationships, and sexuality she clearly finds at the same time repulsive, bewildering and fascinating, and around opening her and especially our eyes to how much john is just a man with human longings still, under the god stuff. dios apate is crucial plot- and character-wise too -- it's a loadbearing threesome in terms of delivering the clues you need to piece together the mystery plot of the book, which is simply delightful -- but even more so thematically. and then the scene at the end where they confront john gives gideon some of that same opportunity to peek into adulthood and go '...well shit I guess', as a sort of mirror, just without the french kissing that time and more murder. the things magnus and abigail model for the girls about love and adulthood? mercy and augustine are providing the opposite-day batshit insane version of that fhdskjfa, you know, for contrast and spice)

2) listen... it gets lonely out there in deep space with your 'legendary unamorous' brother, two infant pathetic baby kitten sisters who you'll probably have to kill one day when you take another stab at god if they don't manage to get themselves killed along the way on their own, and the two people you've spent the last ten thousand years having separate yet connected married & divorced arcs with and also btw one of them is god... honestly a threesome over the dinner table is probably The most well-adjusted reaction one might hope for under those circumstances

3) on a characterization level I think Augustine is actually doing something incredibly deliberate with it: he's presenting John with yet another chance to admit what he did. which is notable especially since the deal he and mercy agree on as a condition for the threesome to happen at all seems to be that they're going to give the ol' godslaying another game try sooner rather than later. (I get the sense that it's not so much that he disagrees with her ultimate goal so much as that he thinks she's being dangerously indiscreet and hasty going about it, before. “though I think it will be the death of us,” huh.)

notice how he's structuring the whole thing: he's invoking the intimacy and love in their strange little threeway relationship and how long it's been by truly playing along with john's 'we're a happy family really when we're at home! :)' delusion (helped along by lowered inhibitions via enormous amounts of alcohol and what I've previously described as a joint mercy/augustine leyendecker themed thirst trap. ah, a classic). he brings up alecto and what happened to her -- or rather, he is clever enough to make john bring up alecto and how she is totally dead, right?? by seeming to make a careless statement that leads there and then acting contrite about it after. he (helped along by mercy, who I think realizes exactly what he's doing -- this is very much a two-man con) brings up how much they all loved their cavaliers, and wow funny how that's been haunting us for ten thousand years now huh :) wow, a lot of our other lyctor friends slash family sure are super dead in the name of some unknowable greater reason neither of us quite grasp and that you won't fucking tell us, aren't they. these are all the main grievances he and mercy confront john about at the end of the book, but put forth much more subtly and not phrased as an accusation -- he's baring his and mercy's vulnerabilities as bait, essentially. if john had, say, a conscience where his conscience should be instead of a black hole, it probably should have stirred something in him.

(also let me just say... the way augustine just takes a pneumatic drill to the TWO tender spots g1deon seems to have and then has the audacity to be like 'oh dear. did that upset him. ooof my bad *loooong dead-eyed slurp of his wine*' is just sooo... he's such a bitch!!! he's the only person who could ever have held their own in a ten-thousand-year bitch-off with mercy and I love him so much. well even if it wasn't all to get g1deon into murder range for harrow I think he wouldn't enjoy sticking around for the 'getting our tongues on god' part of the evening so maybe it's a kindness, really, and totally not pent-up aggression from the last twenty years or so breaking through)

he is all but shaking john by the lapels begging him to just... come clean about it already, to stop thinking he's still kidding everyone else along with himself. it's clear throughout the book that augustine knows exactly what john is at this point -- and all of the most cynical things he does say about it turn out to be distressingly right. john is always less sentimental than you'd think. john wouldn't forgive mercy, he will abandon in a heartbeat anything that isn’t necessary to him anymore, whether emotionally or in some other way. and still he seems to hold out some desperate absurd hope that the man he wants, the man he thought was there, is in there, somewhere deep deep down, if he just gives him the chance to show himself.

(mercy definitely has her own side of this whole thing, I'm just focusing more on augustine because this evening was like. his idea in the first place and I feel like we can Read Some Things into that fact lol. now that we have both ntn and htn to go from I sort of have this sense that the things augustine wants from john are more... personal? more interpersonal? they both love him equally, but mercy's love seems tinged slightly more towards the religious (augustine accuses her of knowing 'only worship without adoration', which like... also the eight house's entire Vibe lol) -- mercy at the end of that book is totally a person breaking up with GOD, not just with john -- while augustine's vibe is more like a man in the last not-with-a-bang-but-a-whimper days of a marriage that sort of felt like it could have been something real and good once but all your illusions about it have since been taken from you and trampled underfoot into the mud and you've had the divorce papers signed and ready in a drawer for over a year now, hell, as it turns out, is other people etc. lmao)

having a threesome over the dinner table with god is one thing, having a threesome over the dinner table centered on the one man and god who has yet again let you down in a way so fundamental it can barely fit into words and who you both still love in a way anyway, miserably, and also just reaffirmed your joint resolution to murder (all under the pretense that it gives your baby sisters the chance to murder your brother of ten thousand years yeah that's why this is happening no other underlying aching emotional motivations here haha)... listen mercy and augustine are simply on a different level, theologically. they've added horny shrimp colours to the religious spectrum. who else does it like them

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #augustine the first #mercymorn the first #john gaius #dios apate minor #bad cop worse cop and sorry cop #augustine 'when I die I want john to lower my casket #not so he can let me down one last time that's honestly a given at this point #if at all possible I just want to pull him down into the grave with me' quinque #first saint to serve the king undying #nona the ninth spoilers #nominally? in that I am saying there's relevant information to this polycule clusterfuck in it? eh let's just be safe lol #just when you thought I had no more thoughts about the terrible old people to unleash upon you... here I am again hahaha #the locked tomb meta #also yeah I mean I guess they didn't actually have to get their tongues on god on-page for all this to still be true #but I'm glad they did let them have some lyctor enrichment #hate fucking is actually lyctor love language hashtag did u kno

[ghostinthegallery]

It should be no secret that I adore Oltyx. He's one of my favorite 40k characters. Which is amazing because let's be real, he's an insufferable little shit who spends most of the books consumed by entitlement, paranoia, or both. He's just so damn well written, the elements that make him awful (which also form the starting point for his character arc) don't quite overshadow his redeeming qualities (which prove he is a person worth giving the opportunity to grow).

Those early chapters do some serious heavy lifting, character-wise. Oltyx comes out the gate swinging for "worst protag of the Year award". He's bitter, he's convinced all of his problems are someone else's fault, he is needlessly cruel to his subordinate (ready to kill Neth just because one grot made it to the stairs). A real winner, right here. Except for two things:

1) he doesn't want his soldiers to die. Sure, he justifies this with facts and logic. Attrition will eventually diminish his forces, leaving him unable to defend his shitty planet, and he isn't getting reinforcements anytime soon. But still, he wants to preserve the lives under his command. He wants to create a "new way of war" which is surprisingly sympathetic for someone who acts like a surly teenager (more on THAT later). Bonus that he does not in fact kill Neth

2) his flashback where he sees Djoseras' first lesson to him. Where we see that Oltyx is not exactly a reliable narrator regarding his elder. And if he's wrong about Djoseras, what else is he wrong about? The narrative is doing something here.

That second point is super important. Because there's a huge difference between reading an asshole protag where the author knows they are an asshole vs. where the author doesn't. The former can be incredibly satisfying as you watch someone grow and change. The latter is annoying AF. That flashback (for me) is like a footnote from the author promising "hey, not all is as it seems, bear with me."

Oltyx's hints of compassion are the incentive.to.give him a chance. Which is then further cemented when we enter the tomb and get to see Oltyx's affection for Yenekh, the first character we see Oltyx caring about. Proof that he has relationships that matter. He doesn't actually hate everyone and everything. And as the narrative continues, we peel back the layers to see what Oltyx actually is.

While I reading those opening pages, I joked to my spouse that Oltyx sounded like a teenager who listens to too much emo music. Turns out that was not actually a joke, that was the entire character. As we get more of his interactions and flashbacks, we are shown someone trapped in perpetual adolescence. Who had the compassion beaten out of him by war, trauma, and neglect (or literally sliced out of him, fuck Hemiun). The more you see of Oltyx the more heartbreaking he becomes. Not because he isn't terrible (he is) but because he didn't have to be. Yet it is so understandable why he is. The lessons he was taught even by the people that loved him (life has no value, compassion is a weakness, lies will come from those closest to you) twisted a kind soul into a conflicted mess. It excuses nothing but explains everything.

But despite ALL OF THAT Oltyx still tries to do the right thing. He tries to save the dynasty that exiled him, he tries to fight beside the brother he taught himself to hate, he tries to resist the madness that he thinks will make him a monster. He literally has the mind of an eighteen year old, trapped in a metal body that is slowly destroying what little sanity he has left. That's a lot!

Crowley had a fine line to walk writing Oltyx, making him sympathetic but not dulling the impact of his darker traits. For my money he did it brilliantly. Oltyx is my precious son who has done everything wrong and I love him.

#necrons #wh40k #Oltyx #twice dead king #yes he is a little shit but considering that he is also perfect and precious and must be protected at all costs #what angsty music is oltyx listening to? #evanescence was my middle school go to #i think he'd appreciate MCR #he had a lot of time to fill tho #needs more music recs

[doctor-daniel-jackson]

Controversial idk, but I've been rewatching SGA and I didn't notice this before, but JFlan is a pretty one note actor. Maybe I was distracted by Sheppard's hotness earlier, but like watching now I keep noticing that he doesn't really have a wide range. Like in a Long Goodbye you could easily tell when Torri was Weir and when the alien, but Sheppard was Sheppard the whole time. The slouching, the drawl, it was pretty much all the same all the time. I keep wondering if the actor just wasn't comfortable flexing his actor muscles or what. On the other hand JFlan had these awesome microexpressions, which were and are a delight.

So what do you think am I being too harsh?

Did I rewatch that episode just to answer this? Yes, and I don’t regret it (great episode). First of all, you are so correct Torri Higginson’s acting kicks ass in this episode. Phoebus is like a cunning Terminator or something with the way she hunts down Thalan and takes out anyone in her way.

Ok, for Flanigan’s acting in this episode and overall. Your observation that he’s kinda one note is pretty Valid in this episode, and he doesn’t get many opportunities throughout the show to show off his range like this so it is of note the few ventures into playing a different or altered character he has.

I tried, I really tried to find good examples of him portraying Thalan as noticeably different from Sheppard, but much like you, I came up short. Even in scenes where he’s not pretending to be Sheppard, dude still acts exactly like him but with a more serious face. The vibe I got from Flanigan was that he wasn’t too confident in the character itself, not making strong choices like Higginson did. The plot has Phoebus doing all the heavy lifting so Thalan kind of just has things happen to him, other than recruiting Ronan. This could’ve made it harder to carve out a real identity for the character.

I’ve seen Joe Flanigan in multiple things though and he kinda does play most of them the same way, mannerism wise. I will say though, his acting in Conversion where he’s slowly turning into a bug is great! I love the choices he made in that episode; you can see the wildness in his eyes whenever he does something out of character as the bug takes over. Also, as you noted, Flanigan is great at micro-expressions! Like seriously, his eyes are so expressive in such a subtle way. Watching his face in the background of scenes is a whole experience. I think Flanigan does his best work when he's fully invested in a character like Sheppard—someone he understands and he'll spend a lot of time with.

Your take was the perfect amount of hot for this! Thank you so much for submitting it (and feel free to submit more if they occur). I’m always happy for a reason to rewatch and analyze a scene or character.

#asks #john sheppard #sga #stargate

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

I strongly dislike BLIH:I Do... I also can’t stop watching it.

#it's so cliche and soapy and blah #and the one actor isn't even very good #and it is absolutely not the type of show I usually go for- all romantic and modern-times and melodramatic #but it's not quite hate-watching and not quite enjoy-watching #somewhere in between #I will say that I liked it better than HISTORY 3: Trapped #which I would say I absolutely hated except I loved the B-couple #i feel the same about this #the cafe dude and the little designer? I love them #the main couple? #the serious one is doing all the heavy lifting acting-wise #the other one is cute it just sounds like he's reading all his lines rather than acting #sigh i wanna watch something with Show Luo #i think i'm extra harsh on this show because again it's soapy and melodramatic #if there were fewer cringe-level cliches i'd probably enjoy it #the scriptwriting is like college sophomore class project level #and I swear if those video bloggers appear one more time i'm taping the old one's mouth shut #she keeps doing this cutsie thing and it's driving me up the wall

[starryevermore]

the man you knew ✧ frank adler & andy barber

angst city™ library

pairing: frank adler x fem!reader; andy barber x fem!reader

summary: frank doesn’t realize he lost something good until it was too late, and andy isn’t the kind of man to give you up. 

word count: 3,496

warnings?: angst city™ bitch, frank’s a teensy bit of a jerk but he technically means well, mostly focused on frank and reader but andy's there too, the ending’s kind of bad but we’re going to pretend it’s not, not proofread

Dating you was like a breath of fresh air. While a lot of single women without kids of their own like to say that they would love a man with a kid, the truth of the matter was, not all of them were ready for that man to put his kid first. A lot of them expect Frank to hold them higher than Mary, but he was not that kind of man. Yes, he had his boundaries, and yes, he did make sure to take care of himself and his needs. But making sure that Mary grew up in a happy home and was able to live a normal life came before everything, and everyone, else. Nothing ever got in the way of that. And, an unfortunate side effect of that was his love life took a back burner. He’d tried a few times over the years to date someone, but it never worked out. 

So when he met you, he expected you to run the other way when you found out that Mary would always come first. But, surprisingly, you took it in stride. “I’d be fuckin’ pissed, Frank, if you didn’t put her first,” you snarked when he had to cancel a date because Mary needed him and, in the aftermath, he told you that she would always his number one girl. “You’re the only real family she’s got. She needs you more than I will. I’m a big girl—I can handle you putting your niece first.”

He fell for you even harder when you said that to him. He hadn’t done anything serious relationship-wise ever since he started taking care of Mary. But now, he was wanting you to become part of his life for real. To maybe introduce you to Mary when the relationship was serious enough. 

And he eventually did. 

Mary loved you to pieces. You’d stay over on the weekends, and he’d often wake up to Mary being back early from Roberta’s, baking cookies with you in the kitchen. You’d both be a mess, covered in flour, but dissolved into giggles, Mary looking happier than ever. And you’d both be pulling him over to decorate the cookies when they were out of the oven, acting like you were art critics as you both pretended to analyze whatever creation he came up with. 

He never wanted it to end. 

But, the longer you were together, the more he began to realize that he probably could never be all in with you. And the fact that he would always put Mary first suddenly weighed heavier than before. You deserved better. You deserved someone who put you first. Frank could never be that man. He swore he’d do things right by Mary. He...Fuck, he could just never be the kind of man that you deserved.

Which is what led him to where he was now, looking over at you as you were curled up in his bed, face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. His chest felt heavy as he looked at you, trying to figure out the best way to say what he wanted to say.

And yet, when it came down to it, he perhaps said it in the worst way possible—

“We need to break up.”

The second the words left his mouth, he knew he said the wrong thing. That this wasn’t what he wanted, not really. Seeing the way you lifted your head up to look at him, the way your face crumpled up, the tears welling up in your eyes, the shuddering breath you let out why you tried to figure out what to say—it hit Frank like a ton of bricks. This was not what he wanted at all.

“Why?” you whispered, as if you didn’t trust your voice to not go out if you screamed at him.

And Frank wished he could’ve backtracked. Wished he could’ve said he made a mistake in saying that damn sentence. But, his mouth worked faster than his brain. 

“You deserve someone better.”

“But you’re what I want,” you said. 

“I can never give you the love you deserve. I have Mary to think about. I need to be there for her, and I know that I can never give you the kind of attention you deserve to get.”

“I knew you would put Mary first when I started dating you, Frank...I don’t mind—”

“Don’t make this harder than it should be,” he said. “I just...There’s no place for you here.”

“There’s no...Oh.” Your brows furrowed together, Frank’s heart sinking as he realized he was hurting you far more than he was helping you. Slowly, you pulled away from him, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and beginning to rise to your feet. “I, um, I’ll get out of your hair then.”

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I—” he said, reaching out to grab at your arm. He felt cold now. He didn’t like feeling cold. 

You jerked away, crossing your arms over your chest. You turned away from him, starting to move towards the door. “I gotta go. If there’s anything of mine still here, just mail it back to me or something.”

“Y/N—”

“Take good care of Mary. If she...If she asks where I am, don’t...don’t say anything that’ll make her feel guilty. Can you promise me that?” you said. 

Of course you’d be concerned about Mary when he was breaking your heart. You were always so good to her. Frank was half-convinced that if he asked Mary what she thought of you, she’d say that you were one of her best friends. God, he was such a fucking idiot.

“I promise.”

He’d wanted to argue, to push back, but...The damage was done. There was nothing left to say that could make this better. He watched as you walked away, tears streaming down his face. God, he wanted to run after you so badly, but he couldn’t make himself do it. He broke your heart. There was no way to come back from that. 

In the morning, when Mary came back from Roberta’s, he struggled with how to break the news to her. How could he tell her that he forced you because of his own insecurities? That you would have rather been there with him, with them, but he acted like a fucking asshole and threw you out? 

“Did Y/N leave already?” Mary asked. “She said she’d take me to the zoo, and I was wondering if we could do that today.”

“No...No, she can’t,” he said. 

“Oh. Then tomorrow maybe?”

“No. You, uh...Y/N’s not gonna be around anymore.”

Her brows furrowed together. “What? Why? Did I do something wrong?”

Frank had Mary pulled into his arms in an instant. He already hurt you. He couldn’t hurt Mary. “No, kid, it’s not you. You were...Y/N loves you so much, but I...I had to let her go.”

“Why? Don’t you love her?”

“I do, and that’s why I had to let her go...She deserved to be with someone better.”

“But she loves you, too! Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s so much more complicated than that,” he said, his cheek resting on the top of Mary’s head. “I just...I didn’t want her to feel like I couldn’t put her first. ‘Cause I can’t. And she deserved someone who could.”

“What did she think?” Mary sniffled. 

“I...I didn’t ask.”

“Well you should’ve!” she said, starting to wiggle her way out of his arms, pushing against his chest, trying to get as far away as possible. “I like having her around! And she liked being around too!”

She finally wrenched herself out of Frank’s arms, storming off to her bed. She climbed under the covers, pulling her blanket over her head, pretending that she didn’t feel the bed dip when Frank sat on the edge, trying to apologize.

“Go away!” she said. “I don’t wanna see you.”

And, just like that, he’d done the one thing he never wanted to do. He’d hurt both of his girls. 

Moving on from Frank wasn’t easy. You once thought that he’d be the man you’d marry. Apparently, he didn’t see the same future. He didn't see any future with him. He was content with casting you aside, acting as if you meant nothing to him or to Mary. When you’d gotten back to your home that day, you wondered if he’d said anything to Mary, asked her how she felt. You’d wager “no”, if you had to. It seemed like he was looking out for himself first and foremost. 

Nevertheless, you tried. You put in a good faith effort. It’s just...living in the same town as your ex, passing by all of the places that used to belong to the two of you, was difficult. Everywhere you went, you saw Frank. In the figurative sense, of course. But, even when you did see him, catch his eye from across the grocery store, it still took everything in you to not fall apart. 

So when your job wanted to relocate you to Boston, you knew what you had to do. You had to go. Even though Boston was marked with Frank, too, at least you didn’t have any personal memories with him there. It would be easier to pretend that he hadn’t hurt you the way he did. 

Boston was better for you. Your heart didn’t feel as heavy. You didn’t feel like you were just going through the motions of it all. You carved out a little hole for yourself, found a nice apartment that you decorated just to your liking. (Though, if you were being honest with yourself, you did go a tad overboard but...home’s home, and you reasoned that it was the most important place you’d be so you deserved it.) 

You established a nice routine for yourself. Work through the day Monday through Friday. Most evenings, you’d retire to your apartment, find some cheesy show to watch, enjoy a nice glass of wine. Maybe a puzzle if you were feeling adventurous. Friday nights, though, you’d treat yourself to a night out. There was a bar across the street from where you worked, and your coworkers would go there as a celebration of making it through another week of being a cog in the capitalist machine. It was a nice stress relief. And it kept you from slipping into the sad, lonely thoughts that would plague your mind if you allowed yourself to be alone for too long. 

It was there that you met Andy.

Andy...He made you feel light. Like you didn’t have to shield parts of yourself a way, like you didn't have to put on an act and pretend that you were some happy, upbeat version of yourself. You could be vulnerable with him. 

He had broken, shattered, pieces too. For the first few weeks you were in Boston, you’d sit beside each other at the bar, trading snarky comments about some of the louder, more obnoxious patrons. Slowly, you started talking about work. Andy was a lawyer, worked at the DA’s office for a while up in Newton, but moved down to Boston a few years back. Started working in estate planning, trusts, wills—that sort of thing. It wasn’t his most favorite area, but he got tired of constantly being in a court room, of constantly being on his A game. It was a lucrative area, though, so he couldn’t complain about the paycheck. 

A few months into your weekly chats, you opened up enough to start seeing each other more regularly. You both were busy a lot of the time, sometimes having conflicting schedules, but you always made time for each other. Often, that meant spending time in your home or his, drinking wine, ranting about the stupidity of work. But, over time, it evolved into you curling into his side, pressing kisses along his jaw as he practically purred about how you were so good to him, that he’d never let you go.

By the time he asked you to be his, you knew there was only one answer: yes. You were still hurting over Frank, but Andy...He made you look forward to the future. And that was something you’d never want to let go. You never wanted it to be ruined. 

Life, though, seemed to have other plans. 

It took one year, two months, and fourteen days for Frank to crack. He’d heard from one of your friends that you’d moved to Boston, that you moved on from him. And he’d tried to be happy for you, tried to pretend that it didn’t feel like someone drove a dagger through his heart when he found out. But, he couldn’t stop himself from buying the next plane ticket to Boston, dropping of Mary at Roberta’s, ready to run right to you.

“You shouldn’t do this,” Roberta said as Mary flipped through her DVD collection, trying to find something to watch. “That girl’s moved on. She’s happy. Don’t ruin that.”

“I’m not going to...I just, I have to let her know I made a mistake.”

“She already knows you made a mistake.” She shook her head at him, her displeasure written clearly across her face. “You broke her heart. Probably made her feel like she was nothing to you. Imagine how she’s gonna feel when you waltz up to her and beg for forgiveness. If I was her, I’d squash you like the bug you are.”

“I love her.”

“But that wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

“I wanted her in my life. I still do. But I thought she deserved better—”

“And she’s found better. Leave her be.” Roberta stared at him, before letting out a sigh. “You’re still go down there, ain’t ya?”

“I just need to see her one last time.”

“Well, don’t be surprised when she slams the door in your face.”

You weren’t the one to slam the door in his face, though, when he got to your apartment. 

In fact, you weren’t even home. 

Your boyfriend was. 

The man that stood on the other side of the door way was just a few inches taller than Frank, and he used every inch to tower over him. But Frank wasn’t the kind of man to be easily intimidated. He came here on a mission, and he was going to see it through. 

“Is Y/N home?” Frank asked. 

“Depends. Who’re you?” the man asked. 

“I could ask you the same question.” Except, Frank knew that the man was Andy Barber, the lucky man who’d won your heart. And Frank was willing to bet that Andy knew who he was, too. Two could play this game. 

Andy looked Frank up and down, before finally saying, “Alright, I’ll cut to the chase. Why the hell are you here?”

“So you know who I am.”

“Yeah, I know you’re the idiot who took Y/N’s heart, crumpled it up, and threw it back in her face ‘cause you wanted an easy way of the relationship.”

“That’s not how it went.”

“Oh? So you didn’t break her heart? Is that what you’re saying?” Andy raised a brow. “Because she told me what happened. How you said there was no place for her in your life. That you couldn’t even look her in the fucking eye when you told her to go. That you had the fucking audacity to act like you were doing her a favor—”

“I was doing her a favor!” Frank snapped. “At least I thought I was. I could never put her first, and I knew she deserved better than that. She’s a fucking angel, and she deserved someone who’d treat her like the treasure she is—”

“So why didn’t you? Because it sounds to me like you just decided it was too hard. That you decided she wasn’t worth putting in the work. I’ve been there. I know how hard it is to raise a kid and have a healthy love life, but I worked every day to make sure that everyone was loved and that they knew it.”

“And how’d that work out for you?”

It was a low blow, and Frank knew it. But he couldn’t help himself. Looking at Andy, he saw everything he could’ve had if he wasn’t such a moron. Andy had everything Frank could’ve wanted. Andy had you. And Frank could never forgive himself for the mistakes that he made.

But before Andy could land a blow himself, Frank was stumbling, a force knocking against his shoulder, brushing past him like he wasn’t even there. For a moment, Frank was ready to shout, to fight back, but god...It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when he saw you walking into your apartment.

“Y/N?” he breathed out, like he couldn’t believe you were in front of him.

You looked back, mock surprise washing over your face. “Oh. You’re here.”

“I’m so sorry—”

“Yeah, I’m sorry you’re here, too. Why are you even here? Didn’t you make it perfectly clear that you didn't want me in your life?”

If he didn’t know you so well, he’d think you were completely unaffected by his presence. But he could see the way your lip wobbled. He could see the tears you were trying to hold back. And it took everything in him to not surge forward, pull you into his arms, hold you as you cried. 

That wasn’t his job anymore, though. 

He’d given that up.

So, instead, he stood still, trying to wrack his brain for the right words to say. Everything that he’d rehearsed on the flight to Boston was erased from his mind. He couldn’t think of anything, except for how stupid he is. “I made a mistake,” he started.

“I did, too.”

“I—what?”

“I should’ve never let you take me out on a date, Frank Adler. I should’ve ran the other way the second you tried to butt your way into my life. I should’ve listened to my friends when they said they’d heard whispers about how you were a heartbreaker, how you couldn’t let any woman into your life. But instead, I was an idiot who thought I should give you a chance. That maybe there was more to you, maybe I could fix you. But there’s no fixing a man like you. Not when men like you decide that you’re happier being broken.”

“Y/N—”

“I’m speaking. And you’ll do well to listen,” you snapped. “I once thought that you could never hurt me. And you know, the Frank I knew probably never would. The Frank I knew was a good man, rough around the edges, sure. But he had a heart of gold. He loved his niece, wanted the best life possible for her. And I loved that about him. I loved how he put everything he had into making sure she knew she was loved. I loved how he put her first. And I still love that. Because I’ve been on the other side of that, I’ve been on Mary’s side. I know how much it hurts to feel like the person raising you couldn’t care less about you. And I saw you, being so good to her, and I thought you were a good man.” 

He reached out, stumbling forward, wanting to take you into his arms, to wipe away your tears. But you only took a step back. You weren’t his to comfort anymore. 

“The Frank I knew was a good man. The Frank I knew wouldn’t hurt me like you did. The Frank I knew wouldn’t come running back to shit on my happiness the second I’m doing better. The Frank I knew loved me, and I don’t have a fucking clue what you did with him.” You grabbed at Andy’s hand, tugging him further into the apartment. “And I don’t ever want to see you again. Because you’re not the Frank I knew, and I want absolutely nothing to do with you anymore. You said you had no place for me in your life. Fine. But you gotta live with that. You made your bed, now you gotta lie in it.”

And before Frank could say anything else, you slammed the door in his face, the lock clicking a moment later. 

This wasn’t what Frank wanted. 

But, this was what he deserved. 

So, he turned, slowly walking out of the apartment building, knowing now that he was, in fact, the biggest idiot the world had ever seen. He’d once had everything he could’ve ever wanted, but he had to be the idiot who screwed it up for himself. And now he had to live with the consequences.

He wanted you to find someone who deserved you, and you did. And that man was not, and never would be, Frank. 

#frank adler imagine #frank adler x reader #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler x female reader #frank adler x you #frank adler x y/n #frank adler fic #frank adler fanfic #frank adler fan fic #frank adler fanfiction #frank adler fan fiction #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fan fiction #andy barber fanfic #andy barber fan fic #andy barber fic #*written by: me #starryevermore

[ddarker-dreams]

Contractual Obligations II. Yan Childe x Reader

Warnings: Unwanted physical contact, general yandere themes. Word count: 2.2k. →Part I. 

The sound of heavy, wooden doors shutting behind you feels like a premonition of what is to come. 

Fiddling with your skirt, your eyes dart around, taking in Liyue’s signature rich architecture. Fatui building or not, they still must abide by Liyue’s aesthetic. You thought being surrounded by your home’s design would bring solace. Warm shades of mahogany with gold motifs are illuminated by paper lanterns, giving a glow that would be otherwise pleasant, if not for the circumstances. 

You had anticipated a long wait. Ekaterina, upon hearing your name, informed that you would be seen without delay. The others in the lobby of Northland Bank grumbled at this, much to your embarrassment. It’s no secret that getting appointments here is a time-consuming endeavor. Sailors, business owners, and Qixing’s personal assistants alike had to wait. 

For whatever reason, you were allowed to skip ahead of the queue. The glaring special treatment is bound to spread rumors. Now, here you stand, unable to quell your nerves. This is no different than strolling into a ravenous lion’s den. The vulnerability you feel now makes you wish you were facing a carnivorous beast, at least then you might have hope to defend yourself. 

Even with the unexpected privilege of not waiting in the lobby, you’ve been standing here in this private room for a while now. Thirty minutes is your guess, impatience creeping up on you. Your shoulders slump, a sigh leaving your lips. There’s lots of work to be done when you’re done here, time a precious resource. Wasting it to get answers from the blight on your life is infuriating. 

Figures, the one time you need to speak with Childe, he’s nowhere to be seen. Every other time he’d show up at the least opportune moments. He has a habit of appearing uninvited and ruining what would’ve been a pleasant day. Lost in thought, you consider all that must be done when you return to your parent’s shop, too occupied with your thoughts to notice a looming figure. Two hands go out to cover your eyes, the world suddenly going dark. Heart pounding against your chest, the touch is too unexpected, heat rising in your body as protection.

“Guess who?” Childe hums into your ear with a singsong tone. His scent reminds you of the ocean, fresh and light. 

You frown, noticing how close he is to you, his chest pressed against your back. Does Childe not know what personal space is? “The source of my problems.” 

He lets out a scandalized gasp and slinks in front of you. Childe boasts a lighthearted demeanor, mirth dancing in his eyes, and a tight-lipped smile on his face. Inauthentic as ever, you note. You’ve seen what lays dormant behind the thin veil of boyish charm. The infinite darkness that you never wish to see again. He’s still closer to your person than you’d prefer, but pointing it out won’t do any good, so you decide to overlook it. Picking your battles wisely is vital when speaking with Childe.

“Is that the greeting I get, after rushing all the way here?” Childe sighs. Before you could respond, you notice a new scent in the air, unmistakably leather. It takes you a moment to identify the source. A thin, wispy trail of smoke rises from Childe’s leather gloves that had been touching you just prior. Does that not hurt? Childe catches you staring and laughs. 

“So you didn’t notice,” Childe sounds amused, lifting his hands to inspect them. Raising his hands to his mouth, he bites the tip of his gloves and pulls them off. “Looks like I caught you.” 

He nods to your necklace which is tucked beneath your blouse, scarlet light shining through the fabric. Instinctually, you cover it with your hand, the jewel warm to the touch. Childe’s abrupt physical touch had activated your Vision. It’s only when you take a few deep breaths that the telling glow fades away, but the damage is already done. Did he plan this on purpose? Whatever the case may be, Childe is the last person you want having this information.

Sensing your apprehension, he speaks up. “Relax, I already assumed as much, but my interest is undeniably piqued. Why hide your Vision? This isn’t Inazuma, I was under the impression Visions were revered in Liyue.” 

You don’t owe Childe an explanation, but your intuition tells you he’s not going to let this go anytime soon. This isn’t what you came here for, you remind yourself. Don’t let him distract you.

“It’s a long story,” comes your dismissive answer, glancing around to see if anyone else had seen, even though it’s only you two in here. “Can I talk about what I came here for, please?” 

Childe closes his eyes, humming while considering your proposition. Instead of walking behind the desk in the room, he sits on a bench against the wall, motioning for you to come over. At your blatant hesitation, he decides to pester you, which doesn’t come as a shock. 

“What’s up with that look? There’s plenty of room,” Childe pats the spot next to him for extra emphasis. A dangerous twinkle shines in his eyes with a mischievous smile to match it. “Though, I wouldn’t complain should you come to sit on my lap instead.” 

Your cheeks flush brightly, a weak glare being sent his way which he laughs at. “I would never…” 

“Sure, sure. Come over already, it’s the least you could do, considering you just scorched a pair of my favorite gloves.” Childe’s carefree tone doesn’t match his scolding words, stretching out his arm on the back of where you were supposed to sit. Gingerly stepping over the smoking gloves on the floor, you wonder if it’s somehow a fire hazard, but assume Childe’s Hydro Vision could put it out if need be. You stop just short of sitting down, gnawing on your bottom lip at this new internal dilemma. Glaring daggers at his outstretched arm doesn’t seem to faze him. 

“The offer still stands.” He teases, leading you to huff and take your seat by him. You try to ignore the close physical proximity, but it’s rather difficult, as your thighs are touching. Is this a common theme for Snezhnayans? Why is Childe so needlessly touchy? Maybe you don’t want to know. Childe drums his fingers, staring at you with dangerous intent. 

You’ve wasted enough time here. Hoping to move on to the pressing issue, your lips part without further delay. “So, as I was--”

Childe places a finger to your lips, in an act that leaves you speechless. What is his problem? Furrowing your eyebrows together, you have half a mind to scorch the finger in front of you, but dismiss the thought when remembering his strength. Damn him for getting you riled up with such ease. 

“Uh uh uh,” Childe chastises with a shake of his head. “Not yet. Business can come later. First, you’re going to tell me about that.” 

You don’t need to look down to see he’s pointing at your hidden necklace. “It’s... personal. I have no reason to tell you.” 

“Oh, sweet [First]. I wasn’t asking. You did just burn my gloves, didn’t you? Instead of charging you Mora, which -- no offense -- you don’t have enough of to replace it, I want an explanation. I think that’s a fair deal.” 

So he is going to hold that mishap over you. Messing around with a debt collector and money seems counterintuitive, giving a quick explanation the plausible option. Whatever it takes to get him to drop the sensitive topic. Childe must have a semblance of tact to have made it this far in life after all. 

“Fine, fine. It’s not really that remarkable a reason. I have a younger sister, Chunghua. We used to be inseparable as kids. More than anything, I just wanted her to be happy. You’d do anything to accomplish that, y’know? It was… all my fault, really. She wanted a Vision like mine more than anything -- hair accessories, Mora, pretty outfits -- she never cared for that. 

I had no idea why I was given a Vision and not her. She was the one who prayed to every Archon at night for it, the one who burnt incense and gave offerings, not me. I could see her gradually losing hope every day that she woke up without one, like a piece of her was breaking off. At meals, she’d just… stare, silently, at the Vision around my neck. I don’t blame her for starting to hate me. I didn’t notice until it was too late.”

Taking a deep breath, your eyes fall to your lap. “I only wanted to cheer her up. To see her smile like she used to. When I first got my Vision, Chunghua would ask me to do these little tricks. Forming animals or whatever, stuff kids like. Anyways… I tried doing it again one morning. Needless to say, it didn’t go well, she practically screeched at me. I had no idea that was how she felt. But, yeah. That’s why I hide my Vision. See, not that interesting, right?” 

Childe’s expression feels impossible to read. You’re not sure why you even shared so much, especially with him, but his lack of interruption made you keep going. Maybe you weren’t expecting him to sit perfectly still and listen to every word. Whatever the case, you clear your throat, desperate to clear the gloomy atmosphere. 

“She would’ve reacted the same eventually,” Childe says after a moment of deliberation. You tilt your head, the serious answer was unexpected. “That’s what I think, though only older siblings could understand.”

There’s a brief tenderness in his words that leaves you speechless. If he’s acting, you have to commend his abilities, because right now it almost feels like he’s being genuine. Playing with a strand of your hair, you look past him and clear your throat.

“Yes, well, I suppose you’re right.” 

Childe’s somber appearance twists into a more impish visage. “Why don’t I give Chunghua a talking to? It’s a shame seeing your cute face so sullen.” 

Mortified, you shake your head. “There’s no need for that.” 

“Hmm… a shame. I could really take care of everything if you just let me.” 

“Somehow I doubt that,” you shrug with a frown. “What you could help me with is this ridiculous situation at the shop! Why are there Fatui guards outside the front doors? It’s scaring away customers.” 

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” 

Unbelievable. Childe continues to test your patience at every turn. After your previous conversation outside Liyue, which you’re still hoping was a bad joke, you’d noticed an increased presence of Fatui around the shopping district. That was bad enough for business. Now that they’re stationed right outside your parent’s shop, it’s far worse. Rumors have begun to circulate that you’re somehow involved with the Fatui. This has Childe’s doing written all over it.

“Why else would I be here?” 

He smiles and you immediately regret the rhetorical question. “Because you missed me, of course.” 

“I missed when there weren’t Fatui around the shop. Please, I don’t know what you did, but it’s going to be harder to get money for...” you gulp as if saying it cements the reality of your situation, but power through. “Paying off the loan with this drop in revenue.”

“Tempting as that is, I’m already happy with the results. I got you to come to me and learned more about you. From my position, this is a sizeable gain.” 

Everything from your head to your toes feels hot as if molten lava is stirring inside. He’s not taking you seriously, like the time at the stream and all the times before that. Memories flash in your mind. Your father hunched over letters containing bills, frowning, hair going greyer by the day. Your mother, sneaking out when she thinks you and your sister are asleep to pawn off her old jewelry. Even Chunghua, who offered to take time away from her education to help at the shop. It hits you like a pile of bricks, heart twisting painfully and tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“What do I have to do,” Your voice is so low that Childe has to careen his head to hear it. He blinks, incredulous, waiting for further clarification. Each breath you take feels like a losing battle, your composure threatening to shatter. “For you to stop… whatever this is. I’ll do anything. Give anything. Please, just leave my family out of it.” 

Childe crosses his legs and leans in closer to you, arm secured tight around your shoulder.

“Didn’t I tell you already?” 

His breath is warm against you, lips ghosting over the skin of your neck. He presses his lips softly against your pulse. Smiling, he notices how it quickens underneath his touch, all too pleased with your physical reactions. 

“That what I want to take is you.” 

#childe #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact imagine #childe genshin impact #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #my stuff

[nerdythebard]

#24: Aloy [Horizon Zero Dawn]

Welcome back, everybody!

This request was made by @kreenkrystal, who wanted to play the red-headed machine hunter in D&D. And I, of course, am here to provide. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this ride...

Next Time: We return briefly to the realm of the gods. Mama Bear of the Emerald Isle comes out to play!

So... what do we need for the machine hunter to shine?

The Wild Child: Aloy is a fantastic tracker, skilled huntress, and the master of stealth. We need to sneak, skulk, and disappear, all while treating our surroundings like our own pocket.

Big Brain Time: Aloy, in contrast to other tribe members, embraces technology and is quite good with it. Part of that is thanks to her sharing DNA with a prodigy scientist and also her trusty Focus. She's also a great crafter and tinker.

Proto-Super Soldier: While strength is not Aloy's main forte, her endurance and physical abilities are pretty above average.

---

Aloy is an almost perfect clone (about 99.4% DNA match) of a genius scientist. That for me speaks like a reason to make her a Variant Human. We get a +1 to two abilities of our choice (Dexterity and Intelligence), we learn one language of our choice and gain proficiency in one skill (Acrobatics). We also get to pick a feat: Observant further enhances our tracking abilities by giving us a +1 to either Wisdom or Intelligence, the ability to read lips, and a +5 bonus to our Perception and Investigation skills.

Aloy was exploring the wilderness since she was tiny, therefore we shall give her the Outlander background. We gain proficiency in Athletics and Survival, as well as proficiency with one musical instrument and one additional language. The Wanderer background feat gives us excellent memory for maps and geographical location, terrain layouts, settlements, etc. Sounds like a perfect choice for a tracker.

ABILITY SCORES

Dexterity is our main ability, it will represent our nimbleness and our fighting style. Constitution will be next, Aloy boasts a praiseworthy endurance, able to withstand many hits from large and powerful machines. Follow that with Intelligence, being a clone of a prodigy gives us some serious scientific mind.

Strength is next, Aloy exercises regularly and with high intensity, and is able to lift and wield heavy machine parts and endure their recoil. Wisdom will follow, Aloy was taught to act and judge wisely by both Rost and the High Matriarch. Finally, we'll dump Charisma - Aloy was an outcast from the very beginning and thus had little to no interaction with other people.

CLASS

That was honestly a difficult one. But I think I got the basics down:

Level 1 - Ranger: We start with some tracking abilities. Rangers (Revised) start with a d10 Hit Dice and [10 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points. We get proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, shields, as well as simple and martial weapons. For Aloy we could get a hide or a regular leather armour and definitely a bow (plus a spear). Our saving throws are Strength and Dexterity, and we get to choose three class skills; let's get Insight, Perception, and Stealth to our roster.

As a Ranger, we get to pick our Favoured Enemy. By the power of fantasy racism, we get to select one type of enemy (beasts, fey, humanoids, monstrosities, or undead) and become an expert on fighting them. We get a +2 bonus to damage rolls of weapon attacks against our chosen enemy type, and we get an advantage on skill checks related to tracking them (Survival) and recalling information about them (Intelligence).

We're also a Natural Explorer, which grants us several benefits, such as immunity from difficult terrain effects, or an advantage on Initiative rolls. If we're travelling with a group for at least one hour, we can find food more easily, the group cannot become lost (unless via magic), and we can learn the exact number of creatures we're tracking, including when they passed the area we're investigating.

Level 2 - Ranger: We get to pick a Fighting Style and for Aloy we gotta go with Archery, which gives us a +2 bonus to attack rolls made with ranged weapons.

D&D Rangers also gain access to Spellcasting. Wisdom is our casting ability, and we have a fixed number of spells we can learn. No cantrips and no rituals for us, but in Aloy's case magic takes the backseat. We're also going to pick spells that can be flavoured as technological upgrades as Rangers don't have access to the Modern Magic UA (feel free to negotiate with your DM, though). We start with two 1st-level spells:

Hunter's Mark is a Ranger staple. One creature within 90 feet of us is branded for 1 hour (concentration). Until the spell ends, it takes extra 1d6 damage from our weapon attacks, and we have an advantage on Perception and Survival checks related to tracking and locating it.

Alarm protects the 20-foot-cube area from unwanted intrusion. It lasts for 8 hours and we can designate a number of creature that do not trigger it. If an undesignated creature enters the area, we receive a sound cue in our minds or out loud.

Level 3 - Ranger: With Primeval Awareness we can establish a link with wildlife. We can understand and communicate simple ideas and emotions to a non-hostile beast, understand its needs, and find out if it's under a spell. After spending a minute meditating, we can also detect the presence of our Favoured Enemy within 5 miles of us.

We also get to pick our subclass, our Ranger Conclave. While there is no machine hunter or anything construct-related specifically in D&D, the re-flavoured Monster Slayer from Xanathar's Guide to Everything will do just fine. We start with Hunter's Sense, which lets us pick one creature within 60 feet and learn its weaknesses. We know if it has any resistances, immunities, and vulnerabilities, and what they are. Slayer's Prey lets us focus on one target within 60 feet of us and add extra 1d6 weapon damage on the first attack we deal each turn.

We also get two spells: one from the Ranger class and one from our subclass:

Protection from Evil and Good last for 10 minutes (concentration) and shields one target we touch (or ourselves) against aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead.

Cure Wounds is a simple yet effective healing spell that restores [1d8 + our spellcasting modifier] Hit Points to one creature we touch. It doesn't work on constructs or the undead.

Level 4 - Ranger: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement! Let's raise our Intelligence and Constitution by 1.

Level 5 - Artificer: This time, we shall focus a little more on the technological aspect of Aloy's character. Multiclassing into an Artificer gives us proficiencies with thieves' tools and tinker's tools, as well as some proficiencies we already have. We start with Magical Tinkering, which lets us imbue a spark of magic into a Tiny-sized object to grant it one of several properties: emit light, play a recorded message, make images appear on the surface, etc.

Artificers also get access to Spellcasting, with Intelligence as their casting ability and including the knowledge of ritual casting. If your DM introduced MagiTech or any sort of more advanced technology in their campaign, feel free to check out the Modern Magic UA for some tech-based spells (things like the On/Off cantrip or Remote Access would be pretty useful). For now, we get to pick two cantrips:

Guidance lasts for 1 minute (concentration). Before it ends, a targeted creature (or ourselves) can add a 1d4 to their next ability check. The spell then ends.

Mending lets us fix a tear of up to 1 foot in diameter. We can use it to mend a weapon, stitch together a torn-up document, fix clothing, etc. The cantrip can fix a magical item, but won't restore the magic into it.

Artificers have full access to their spell list, provided they have the spell slots for it. Each day, they can prepare [Intelligence modifier + half of Artificer level (rounded down)] spells. We start with two 1st-level spell slots:

Identify lets us learn about an object of our choice. If it's a magical item, we can learn what are its properties and spells that are put onto it. If it's a regular object, we may learn things like how old it is, what's it made of, etc

Jump triples the jump distance of any creature we touch (or ourselves) for 1 minute.

Longstrider increases the ground speed of any creature we touch (or ourselves) for 1 hour.

Level 6 - Artificer: Here, we unlock the Artificer's party trick - infusions. With Infuse Item, we get a list of modifications similar to the Warlock's invocations. Here, however, instead of spell improvements, we get modifications to our items. We start with four infusions:

Enhanced Defence grants us a +1 AC bonus to a suit of armour or a shield.

Mind Sharpener can be applied onto a suit of armour or a robe (feel free to ask your DM to make it into a Focus-like device). Whenever we fail a Constitution check to maintain concentration, we can use one out of four charges to succeed instead. The item regains 1d4 charges daily.

Replicate Magic Item: Goggles of Night gives us 60 feet of darkvision, which is useful since humans don't have that ability innately.

Replicate Magic Item: Bag of Holding is an adventurer's staple and a good nod to the game's near-limitless inventory box.

We can also pick another Artificer spell: Feather Fall can slow down the fall of us and up to five creatures within 60 feet of us. If we land before the spell ends (1 minute), we take no fall damage.

Level 7 - Artificer: With The Right Tool for the Job we are now never without equipment. If we have thieves' tools or artisan's tools in hand, we can create one set of any artisan's tools within 5 feet of us. The process lasts for 1 uninterrupted hour (which can be done during a short or long rest) and we can only create one tool kit at a time.

At this level, we can also pick our subclass - our Artificer Specialist. Now, originally I envisioned Aloy to be a Battle Smith, but when I saw this picture, there was no doubt in my mind. Sorry, Mr Stark. You would've been the first if anybody requested you.

With her talent in tinkering, Aloy is an Armourer. We gain proficiency with heavy armour and smith's tools. With our Arcane Armour, we now have a great source of protection. The armour cannot be removed from us against our will, it can be used as the Artificer's spellcasting focus, and it will replace missing limbs with enchanted metallic prosthetic. We can also customize it and pick the Armour Model. The Infiltrator model increases our ground speed by 5 feet, grants advantage on Stealth checks, and has a gem-like node that can be used as a ranged weapon to fire bolts that deal 1d6 lightning damage.

The Armourer also has its own spells, two of which are available to us from the start. These spells are always prepared for us and don't count against the number of spells we can prepare each day:

Magic Missile creates three darts of force that always hit the desired target, dealing [1d4 + 1] force damage.

Thunderwave releases a booming shockwave from our location. Each creature within a 15-foot cube from us must make a Constitution saving throw or take 2d8 thunder damage and be pushed 10 feet away from us (half damage and no push on a successful save).

Level 8 - Artificer: Time for another Ability Score Improvement. Let's raise our Constitution and Strength by 1 point each.

We can also get another Artificer spell: Faerie Fire outlines all objects in a 20-foot cube with colourful light. Creatures that fail a Dexterity saving throw also glow and cannot benefit from things such as invisibility. Any attack dealt against a glowing creature has an advantage for 1 minute (concentration).

Level 9 - Ranger: Coming back to the wilderness, we get the first Monster (or Machine) Slayer upgrade. Extra Attack allows us to attack twice instead of once during a single Attack action.

We also get a Ranger spell to choose: Find Traps lets us detect any trap within our line of sight. We can perceive the boundaries of spells such as Alarm and Glyph of Warding, as well as tripwires and mechanical traps. We cannot senses natural hazards, such as weak floors or hidden sinkholes.

Our Ranger subclass gives us one more spell: Zone of Truth creates a 15-foot-radius sphere centred on a point within 60 feet of us for 10 minutes. All creatures inside the sphere must make a Charisma saving throw or be forced to speak truthfully (or what they believe to be true) while within its boundaries. They are not forced to speak, however.

Level 10 - Ranger: Halfway through the build and we get Greater Favoured Enemy. Now, we can choose a more advanced type of foe to be better against. Here is where I suggest choosing constructs for Aloy. Our bonus against all our favoured enemies now increases to +4.

Level 11 - Ranger: We get another subclass upgrade. With Supernatural Defence we gain additional protection against the creatures we hunt. If the creature that is the target of our Slayer's Prey feature forces us into a saving throw (or if we use an ability check to escape a grapple), we add a 1d6 to our roll.

We also get another spell: Locate Object lets us name or describe an object and then detect that specific item within 1,000 feet of us. The spell lasts for 10 minutes (concentration).

Level 12 - Ranger: We become Fleet of Foot. This lets us use the Dash action as a bonus action.

We also get another ASI. Let's bump up our Dexterity by 2 points for better AC and better weapon attacks.

Level 13 - Ranger: We don't get any class-related features here, but we do unlock 3rd-level spells: Conjure Barrage uses a piece of ammo (or a thrown weapon) to create multiple copies of it that strike any target in a 15-foot cone who fails their Dexterity saving throw. It deals 3d8 damage (half on a successful save).

We also get one spell from our subclass: Magic Circle creates a 10-foot-radius, 20-foot-tall cylinder of magical energy, which protects everyone inside from one or more of the following creature type: celestial, elemental, fey, fiend, or undead. The chosen types cannot willingly enter the circle (if using magic, they must succeed on a Constitution saving throw), attacks made against creatures inside the circle are made with disadvantage, and creatures inside the circle cannot be charmed or frightened. The Circle can be also cast in reverse, trapping the designated creatures inside.

Level 14 - Ranger: We get to Hide In Plain Sight. On our turn, we can sacrifice our movement to remain perfectly still when hiding. Any creature that attempts to find us take a -10 penalty to their Perception check. The effect ends when we decide to move or if we fall prone.

Level 15 - Ranger: Time for another subclass upgrade. Magic-User's Nemesis gives as some methods for fighting spellcasters. When we see a creature casting a spell or teleporting within 60 feet of us, we can force a Wisdom saving throw onto it. On a failed save, the spell doesn't take effect. We can't use this feature again until we finish a short or long rest.

We also get another spell: Protection from Energy grants the willing creature we touch (or ourselves) resistance to one of the following damage types (acid, cold, fire, lightning, or thunder) for 1 hour (concentration).

Level 16 - Ranger: Time for another ASI. Let's cap our Dexterity to a maximum, by putting two points there.

Level 17 - Ranger: We unlock 4th-level spells at this level: Freedom of Movement makes a targeted creature (or ourselves) unaffected by difficult terrain and spells that reduce speed or prevent movement, such as Hold Person, Command: Halt, or Snare. The target can also sacrifice 5 feet of movement to escape any non-magical restraint and grapple.

Our subclass grants us another spell: Banishment sends a creature away from our current location. Depending on whether or not the creature is native to the plane of existence we currently reside at, the banishment might be permanent if uninterrupted for 1 minute (concentration).

Level 18 - Ranger: We learn how to Vanish. We can use the Hide action as a bonus action, and we can no longer be tracked by non-magical means, unless we choose to leave a trail.

Level 19 - Ranger: We get the final subclass upgrade: Slayer's Counter. If the target of our Slayer's Prey feature forces us to make a saving throw, we can instead make a ranged weapon attack against it. If we manage to hit the target, we automatically succeed on the saving throw.

We also get the final spell of the build: Locate Creature works in a similar manner to Locate Object, except now it can track a creature we name in a 1,000 feet radius. It cannot, however, locate beings altered by magic, such as via the Polymorph spell.

Level 20 - Ranger: Our capstone of the build is Ranger 16, which means it's ASI time. Let's make our Strength into an even number and put the remaining point in Charisma.

---

And that is Aloy of the Nora Clan. Whew, I'm gonna be honest, that was DIFFICULT! Thank you, krystal, for the absolute challenge. Let's see what we came up with:

We have a pretty agile hunter, with some tech-savvy skills and a good option of ranged attacks. With infusions and the Infiltrator armour, our AC is around 17, we have a +5 to our Initiative, and 164 Hit Points on average.

Unfortunately, we had to neglect Wisdom and Charisma, two most popular saving throws. We got a little help from the Mind Sharpener infusion, but that might not prove enough against effects like charmed or frightened.

---

And that is it. I hope you guys enjoyed this build, and I'll see you in the next one. This one will come sooner, I promise!

- Nerdy out!

#dnd #d&d 5th edition #d&d build #dungeons and dragons #aloy #horizon zero dawn #horizon forbidden west #ranger #monster slayer #artificer #armorer

[ikeromantic]

Fake It Til You Make It

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction - approx. 2200 words. This scene takes place post-romantic epilogue. Fluff and a little spice.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Adrift

Kyubei watched the innkeeper through narrowed eyes. Though the man was clearly nervous, he didn’t seem to be lying. His story hadn’t changed in the last three tellings, so either he was an accomplished liar or he was telling the truth.

“L-lord Akechi and the woman left with one of the Akechi warriors. Right after we saw the fire across the lake,” the innkeeper said for the fourth time. “Then the storm came and after that, no one saw him.”

“Do you remember anything else? Did anyone else come in after they left? Did you see anyone acting strangely?”

The man shook his head. “No, I mean, not really? Everyone was a bit strange after we saw the blaze. Wondering if Azuchi was still standing.” He frowned. “You think it might have been Lord Akechi? Him disappearing like that right after -”

Kyubei cut him off. “No. That was the work of the Mouri clan.” It wasn’t the first person he’d spoken with that suspected. And why wouldn’t they? Mitsuhide was only just back from his misadventure at the shogun’s side. An ally in disgrace. A man not to be trusted.

The worst part of all this was that Kyubei really had no idea what his lord wanted him to do. Should he quash the rumors? Encourage them? Mitsuhide’s instructions from his last letter said nothing about an attack on Azuchi - not like this - and nothing about disappearing. Of course, he pretended like he knew exactly what was going on. He had to, until he received additional instructions.

“So . . . am I free to go?” The innkeeper was frowning now. His nervousness replaced by a desire to get back to making money at the inn.

“For now,” Kyubei said. He gave the man a hard stare. “If I need anything else, I will send someone for you.”

The innkeeper bowed and left, leaving Kyubei alone with his thoughts. It really seemed that in the storm, his lord had simply vanished into thin air. And Miyake too.

Perhaps they'd left with Ranmaru, who was also missing. But if so, there would be a letter. A message. Something!

The castle staff had no idea where he was - they’d waited for him to return for hours. Miyake’s squad couldn’t find their commander either. Both men were expected.

And the chatelaine . . . his lady. Kyubei worried that he had failed to protect her again.

***

Morning came with pale light through a high window. It fell across four careworn, sleeping faces. Sasuke and Miyake lay in a tangle of blankets on the floor, and in a bed, Mitsuhide clung to his little mouse. He woke with the first notes of bird-song, but kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready to confront the strange world of 500 years in the future just yet.

His little one stirred in his arms as the sound of morning birds turned into a hum of outside activity. “Is it . . . are we really . . .” She opened her eyes and looked around Sarutobi’s flat. “We’re really here.”

Mitsuhide nodded.

“I want to be happy about it, but . . .”

He shushed her with a kiss. “It will be fine. Worrying won’t return us faster.”

She sighed and buried her face against his chest. “I know. I just hope everyone is alright.”

“They will be,” Mitsuhide reassured her. He didn’t think of it as a lie - simply an assumption he based on his past experience. Nobunaga would handle this threat as he did others that came before it.

And Kyubei would see to what the left hand needed to be doing.

Sasuke sat up, rubbing his face. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he told them. The same apology he’d given the night before.

“At least we had somewhere to sleep.” The chatelaine sat up and wiggled out of the blanket. “I should probably check on my flat and see if it’s still mine. If so, we won't have to impose on you a second night. Although,” she sighed. “I don’t have my ID or my keys or anything.”

“I don't mind,” Sasuke replied. “You are welcome to continue crashing here. Although, we may not be here for long. Weren’t there activities you wanted to do in this time? While you can?” His left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.

Mitsuhide gave her one of his slow, warm smiles. His fingers traced a path down her spine. “Yes, you did mention some things I would like to see, since we are here.”

His little mouse arched like a cat against his hand. “I did . . . yes. Alright. Since we’re here, we might as well try to enjoy it!”

Miyake rolled over on the floor and pulled the blanket over his head.

“I take it that means you plan to stay here for the day?”

Sasuke answered for the half-asleep warrior. “Actually, I would really appreciate it if Miyake would accompany me. I need to go to my university and make some arrangements.”

Miyake groaned and sat up. He blinked as his gaze went around the room, taking in all the strange objects. Finally, he settled on the ninja. “You need protection or something?”

“No. I don’t think anyone will attack me.” Sasuke felt around for his glasses and slid them on. “But I expect to be moving some heavy equipment in the lab. And I may have a friend who can help us out with those arrangements, if you're there to corroborate my story.”

“Corr what?” Miyake frowned.

“Authenticate. Like a two factor security key.” The ninja grinned.

The warrior looked to Mitsuhide uncertainly.

“If Sarutobi believes you can assist him today, then that is what you will do. I am sure my fiancée and I will be fine.”

The chatelaine looked less certain about this, but she nodded agreement.

The four of them took turns dressing in the ‘washroom’ to give each other privacy. His morning was one of surprise as the . . . toilet . . . squirted him with water. And warm or cold water came from a metal spigot at the turn of a handle too, spilling into a porcelain basin. There were more smokeless lanterns - electric lights they were called - and other wonders.

Had Mitsunari been there, he was sure the scholar could have spent weeks studying every device but Mitsuhide just needed to know how to use it.

In this place, he was the naïve child, and his little one, the wise teacher. Such a shift in their positions was hard to take. Mitsuhide didn’t think of himself as arrogant but this situation was humbling in the extreme. Thankfully, he managed to get through dressing and breakfast without any serious mishaps.

Sasuke and Miyake left to the university. The flat was silent in their wake. Mitsuhide and his little mouse sat on the edge of the bed. She was tapping away at a . . . tablet . . . to get access to her accounts. The electronic scroll was interesting, at least. With pictures and writing all lit up so you could read it even in the dark.

Mitsuhide stood and stretched, trying to get used to moving in his new clothes. They were Sarutobi’s and didn’t quite fit. He was dressed in a pair of pants that clung tightly to his legs and ended short of his ankle. The top was a soft weave, dyed black. It sported an odd blue character on it and the word Sonic. Sarutobi said the picture was a hedgehog, whatever that was.

He would have liked to wear something without a picture on it. He’d had the choice between this one and something with a lizard that walked on two legs and shot fire from its mouth. Those were the only two shirts the ninja had that were long enough to cover him to his waist. And there was no way he was walking around with a bare midriff. Even if his little mouse looked interested in the idea.

Her midriff was bare afterall, she’d laughed. And it was - sort of. She tied one of Sasuke’s shirts in a bow under her breasts and had a pair of his shorts on. Though Mitsuhide wasn’t familiar with the clothes of this time, he thought she looked like a child trying to fit into her father’s clothes. Endearingly cute, but ill fit. Some of the clothes they saw women wearing on the way in the night before would have looked much better on her.

She looked up as if she knew he was thinking about her. “Ok, I think we’re ready to go.”

“Where to, my love?”

“Well, first to my apartment. It looks like my rent payments have all been made. And the building manager knows me so I should be able to get a spare key.” Her smile was all relief.

They arrived to the apartment, a small space in a tall building that reminded Mitsuhide of a castle, if the castle was robbed of all charm and beauty. Her room was utilitarian and sterile, and while there was still the wonder of technology, he could see none of her personality in the space. He said as much.

“Hm, yeah. I didn’t really have time to decorate. The apartment came furnished. I moved in and then, well,” she laughed. “I ended up in Azuchi with you.”

Mitsuhide pulled her into a hug. “A fate worse than death, little mouse?”

“You know it wasn’t,” she giggled, laughing harder as he ran his fingers down her sensitive sides. Holding her like this felt like home, even if nothing else was familiar.

After several slow breaths, they let go of each other.

“I must confess, I cannot see you living in this place. It doesn’t seem very safe. And you don’t have much room for your sewing.” Mitsuhide couldn’t help but poke into her cabinets, shelves, and drawers.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty small but it was a place I could afford on my own.”

Mitsuhide heard the pride in her voice. He smiled. “I can imagine you coming here, determined to make it on your own.” He turned from the cabinet he was inspecting to see her stripping off her shirt.

Her pert breasts were a pleasant surprise, but she crossed her arms over them as soon as she saw him looking. “I’m just changing clothes! I didn’t want to wear Sasuke’s basketball shorts all day.”

“Please, continue.”

“I - I can’t while you’re staring at me!” She turned so that all he could see was her back.

Mitsuhide laughed. “Are we not lovers? How many times have I kissed, nibbled, caressed every bit of your skin from head to toe?”

She shivered, skin dimpling with remembered touches. Slow, nervous, she turned back around. Her arms lowered, revealing her chest again. “You can watch if you want to.”

He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or mischief that made her voice squeak at the end. Either was amusing. “Mmm, I’m a lucky man to get a show.”

“You are,” she smiled. Her fingers went to the tie on the shorts. They fell away, pooling around her feet. Underneath, she wore nothing.

Mitsuhide sucked in a breath.

Her hips swayed as she walked to her wardrobe. She glanced over her shoulder at him and fluttered her eyelashes, trying to be saucy. The effect was a little spoiled by the blush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. From within the wardrobe she pulled out a little twist of cloth. It was light blue and made of some embroidered material.

He didn’t realize he could see her skin through it until she slipped it on, slowly pulling the fabric taut over her curves. Though she was technically covered, it was somehow more tempting than just skin alone. “What . . . is that?”

“Panties.” She giggled. Then she pulled out a matching bit of cloth and wrapped it around her chest. The rise of her breasts were restrained by this new piece of clothing as she reached behind her as if to tie it.

“And that?”

“My bra.” She turned right, then left, letting him get a good view.

The sight made Mitsuhide want to simultaneously rip the clothing off her and still enjoy looking at her in them. It wasn’t possible to have both . . .

“To be honest, it’s been kind of nice not wearing these the last few months. But I think I would feel weird if I didn’t wear them with my modern clothes.”

“I like them.” Mitsuhide smiled widely. A grin that brought heat to her gaze before she looked away, suddenly shy. He knew this ground well. Even here in a world where everything was strange, his little one was the same.

He stepped forward, reaching to cup her cheek. His other hand settled lightly on her hip, fingertips stroking the skin just above the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply, lips parting. Mitsuhide took the invitation.

The kiss was, at first, gentle and sweet, but the press of their bodies built heat between them. Their breath mingled, tongues entwined. Hands grasping, stroking, pulling. Tearing.

Mitsuhide stopped at the sound of fabric ripping.

His little one gasped and reached down to feel the damage. Her eyes widened. “You . . . tore my panties.” Then she started to laugh.

He laughed too. Never in his life had he expected a woman so wonderful. A woman he would want badly enough to - literally - tear the clothes off her. This kind of passion he’d always believed was fake. Yet here he was. It was unthinkable. Incredible. “I love you,” Mitsuhide told her, smiling so widely that it hurt.

“I love you too.”

She gestured to the wardrobe. "I should probably, you know. Finish." It took only a moment for her to shimmy into her own clothes. Then they headed out into this strange world that was his home 500 years after death.

Next: Kitsune's Day Out

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #otome boys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

[tallyovie-writes]

Pictures of Us | f. w. Part 2

part 1

Summary: all the paintings choose a student to patron, the Lady chooses you and watches as you and Fred Weasley grow in the same direction

Warning:none, might contain little angst, nothing serious

2k words

@sirenswhispers @discoverablefeelings @capture-the-moment-on-camera @sophieswizardswheezes

Sixth year, December

The corridors buzzed with excitement. With only less than two weeks to the Yule Ball boys were running around in desperate need of finding partners while girls were frantic about not being asked. Of course the already paired ones watched the madness spread with a smug smile on their lips.

The Paintings also had the time of their lives, the new puppets on their chessboard gave back a little life to their fading colours. Now they could play matchmaker from an even bigger selection.

The Lady wanted to be proud to say she did not take part in such childish acts, but she had a mission with those two before the second task. It's not like she could do much, but occasionally if she heard a french boy talking about inviting her patron to the dance she faked sadness as she gave the poor boy the news that you were indeed taken.

You weren't indeed taken.

Madness has yet to engulf you, but you weren't calm either. Collita was asked by a bulgarian boy, but you had doubts whether there weren't threats made by her that overpowered the poor boy's common sense.

You would have been fine with the two of you going together, but now that she had a partner, you weren't planning on being the third wheel.

You forced these thoughts out of your mind for now. You had more important things going on.

The Lady's corridor was full of students as usual, so you weren't surprised when you entered the DADA classroom someone almost knocked you off your feet.

"Watch where you are goi.....oh..." you started telling off your attacker, but as you looked up Fred Weasley held eye contact.

Ever since that encounter in the potions storage room things have changed. You haven't really met after that, the two of you gave a wide berth to one another. No funny business, no prank. When you did run into each other, a sudden awareness filled your body. He made no snarky comments, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. You didn't bring up the secret of the castle, and he didn't bring up the date. Like an unspoken deal has been made without either of your knowledge. It was awkward at best. You didn't think anyone noticed, there was only bad blood between you before.

He didn't reply, he didn't apologize for running you over. He took a long look at your face, lingering on details only he could see. Without his usual grin, he left the scene as fast as he came, robes flying around him.

"What was that? Has something happened between you two?" seems like someone noticed after all.

"Nothing besides me agreeing to a date, him agreeing to let me in on a secret, and our mutual ghosting. How is your french boy by the way?" you feigned innocence.

Collita's jaw hit the floor.

"I'm joking. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"You know I wouldn't even be surprised. With all the sexual tension you two radiate, I wouldn't put it past you that I could find you in a broom closet with him."

Now it was your turn to let your jaw hit the floor.

"Well then, good to know nothing is going on..."

Boy, if you'd known...

Sixth year, yule ball

It wasn't that bad of an evening. You could say it could have been quite magical. The house elves outdid themselves, even the usual house rivalry crawled back to its gloomy hole.

The icicles lost their naturally given cold arua just like the stone walls' usual grim facade. White dominated, but was quickly swept by the wide range of colourful dress robes, Dumbledore's glittery lilac fabric showing how it's done properly.

It really wasn't your date's fault either that you didn't really enjoy yourself. The poor boy tried everything, but besides polite conversation you weren't capable of anything else.

You were standing alone by the food table, the ravenclaw boy left a while ago to try his luck somewhere else, probably with bigger chances.

You saw Collita bent over from laughter silent tears running down her face, her date was watching her with parted lips in amazement. Eyes big, positive surprise written on his face. Collita did that to people. She was naturally gifted with a charming personality, she drew you in, spoke to you like you were on a pedestal.

She made you feel seen. A secret talent that you were rather jealous of on several occasions.

Suddenly you felt sick of the swirling mesmerized faces, the colours were too vibrant, the music too loud, too many bodies pressed together.

Before the walls started closing around you, you left your previous position and made your way to the exit that led to the gardens. The only sound that was registrateable to your ears were only your own footsteps.

Fresh air cut your rapid breathing shorter. You slowed down, the Great Hall's chokingly sweet smells started to fade away into the night.

"Wouldn't say rushing to the night with only a light silk material covering you was a smart choice, wasn't it? I took you to be a lot smarter than that, love. You're gonna get sick." a soft voice interrupted you.

Fred Weasley stood next to the bushes.

"Well, being sick would mean I wouldn't have to see your ugly face in class, so..." you replied but your voice lacked its usual fierceness. You were too tired.

He chuckled at your reply.

"I don't wanna go back there.." you started in a low voice, barely understandable, but gathered your poise and frowned as you said the last sentence. "They are too happy in there anyway."

"Is that jealousy in your voice?" he found so goodly which strings of you he should pull.

"And what if it is?" you snapped at him.

A ghost of his usual smug grin appeared on his face.

"Get your big nose out of my business by the way!"

"Well love, you know what they say about big nosed guys..." he lazily shrugged, hands in the pockets of his robe.

"Get lost, Weasley, I'm not in the mood today."

Maybe it was the hint of desperation in your voice, or the pathetic look you might have presented, but he stopped picking your brains.

"Come in, Y/S/N, you might even find the bloke of your dreams tonight." Fred tilted his head to the side.

"I'm not interested in 'finding a guy' to be my only goal." you scoffed at his remark.

"Well then, as the only guy you talk to right now, I feel obligated to spare you from the clutches of the cold and sickness, so pretty please get your ass in here."

"I'll stay until I decide it's enough. But thank you for your concern. Bye Fred Weasley, 'find the girl of your dreams' tonight." you rolled your eyes at him.

Little did you know, he already did.

Despite the cold, the Lady felt your frozen heart start melting, even if you haven't realized yet.

Sixth year, few days after the Yule Ball

"I don't understand why you thought it was a good idea to freeze your pretty little ass out there in a low cut silk dress in winter."

You groaned out in frustration.

Collita didn't spare you despite the fact that you were bloody sick, and fuckin hurting everywhere.

"Madam Pomfrey said you won highest fever of the year." she mentioned between stealing a few of your get-well sweets. "At least you finally won something." she winked at you.

"Get out, and let me suffer alone you bimbo!" you hissed at her, but the sharp pains shooting down your neck really destroyed to effect you were trying to achieve.

"Alrighty, my little pathetic friend, I suppose I can leave you to your demise. Be a good and obedient patient." she sent you a kiss and strolled out the Hospital Wing.

**

In the Hospital Wing, after curfew

After Collita left you to suffer on your own Madam Pomfrey gave you a light sleeping tonic. You welcomed the sweet oblivion in the place of pain.

A light noise disturbed the calming darkness. Opening your eyes was a too heavy task, so you relied on your hearing. A soft fumbling could be heard, but the person near your bed executed the deed quite clumsily as the most colourful swearing left their mouth.

Fighting against the tonic's luring effect, you tried opening your eyes. When you did, you almost jerked back in surprise.

Fred Weasley stood there with an innocent smile on his face, like a child caught in a naughty act, his hands were midair frozen on the spot hovering above your stack of sweets.

"What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the night standing near my bed?" you demanded and pulled your blanket further to your neck. "Are you setting up a prank?"

"Have a little faith in me, Y/N...if it were a prank you would only know it before it happened and that's already too late. Can't a bloke visit his sick classmate? The classmate he warned against the cold?" you scoffed at his pointed stare.

"In the middle of the night?"

He started scratching the back of his neck.

"Good point. A point I should probably elaborate on." he didn't seem like someone who wanted to elaborate.

"Don't let me stop you from doing that..." you rolled your eyes at him.

He seemed a little awkward and you could barely hide your amusement. It is not every day a Weasley gets a little intimidated and loses his usual cockiness.

"You see..." he started but his gaze was still fixated on his hands. "...I felt a tad responsible for you catching a cold.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

"If it weren't for me dancing on your nerves in the garden making you irritated enough to stay outside longer than intended, you wouldn't be here right now." he sounded a little guilty and you couldn't help the warmth that started spreading in your stomach.

You started to chuckle.

"Weasley. It's alright." you felt a sudden bravery envelop you as you said the next words nonchalantly. "You owe me another secret and we are even."

You waited for his reaction.

He didn't disappoint. He lifted his head, brown eyes locking into your own. Now you weren't sure if it was a wise idea to make him remember your deal back in the potion storage room.

"And here I thought I could bribe you with chocolate that I nicked from the kitchen...you are not a woman easily pleased." he didn't seem that sad about this fact.

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Right."

Silence fell upon the two of you. Eyes still interlocked, you weren't sure if minutes or hours passed by. The Hospital Wing's darkness faded, and the freckles splattered across his face became more contrasted than before. He tilted his head to the side, his gaze burned your skin.

Suddenly becoming aware of the weirdness of the situation you cleared your throat and looked away.

"Since the tonic made me hungry like a wolf, I'll accept that nicked chocolate." you said, trying to break the silence.

Fred smiled and threw you the bar he fumbled around with before. Your catch was nothing sort of graceful and you felt embarrassment tint your cheeks.

Looking down at the bar in your hand you felt your eyes grow big.

"How did you know this is my favourite?" you asked astonishment, creeping into your voice.

"Lucky guess." he shrugged. You didn't need to know that every time the Grand Hall's tables were filled with this, he couldn't look away from the joy radiating on your face. Just like now.

"Your taste is impeccable, I gotta say."

Oh yes, his taste was indeed impeccable, but not just in chocolate.

#harry potter #angst #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley #slytherin #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x y/n

[kuroosweakness]

magazines pt. 2 // miya atsumu 

a/n: a continuation of part 1  for @kakiwrites​ :) 

word count: 1010

“you wouldn’t care anyways,” you reply, letting out an awkward laugh. a part of you secretly hopes he would care, but you know better than to get your hopes up.

he frowns even harder. “how’d you know i wouldn’t care if you haven’t even told me yet?”

you wince under his strong gaze.

“...they’re my insecurities, not yours, so i thought you wouldn’t ... care. a lot of guys will push their partner’s insecurities away and tell them to get over themselves so i thought you’d-” 

“i’m offended you would even think that,” he huffs and pulls you closer to him. “i would never have something in common with those shitty guys.”

he flips you over; your back on the bed and his chest on top of yours. now that his soft eyes have returned, you take a moment to admire the face you fell in love with. 

“...you have a really dreamy look, y/n,” he chuckles and lifts himself up in push-up position before resting his chin on your chest. “now tell me, what insecurities are we talking about?” 

he really isn’t going to let this topic go, is he? this is an awkward position...but a comfy and cozy one.

“for one...” you start, looking at him to see if he’s still paying attention. he blinks, urging you to go on. 

“what’s the first one?” 

“you hang out with a lot of attractive people...” 

“damn right i do, i always hang out with you.” 

you stifle a laugh. “no, i mean the interviewers and other famous people you see on the daily. they’re the beauty standard,” you say, pointlessly gesturing around with your hands. “you hang out with all of them but you still come home to me...how can you be satisfied with me when they’re there...” 

this conversation is hitting you a harder than you had expected. you didn’t even notice your tears swelling up until atsumu started wiping them off with his thumb. 

“y-you...” you blink back more tears, trying to calm your sudden swollen throat. “you fit in the ... standard too. you’re above the standard. people will look at you...and then at me. i’m really happy to be with you but i can’t help but think that one day, you’ll become unsatisfied and you know...l-leave” 

atsumu gently rubs his thumb against your upper arm. “i’m not going anywhere,” he reassures with a sad smile across his face. it’s rare to catch atsumu acting soft like this. 

“that’s what they all say,” you choke out, thinking of all the times you’ve heard of other people’s boyfriend leaving them. or worse, when they found their boyfriend was cheating.  

his eyes immediately narrows. “i’m seriously not leaving. i’d never leave. i won’t leave. i didn’t leave. i can’t leave. i will not leave.” he lets out a heavy sigh against your skin. “i don’t even look at those people you’re talking about. because i come home to you. it doesn’t matter if they’re the considered attractive or whatever, i can’t care less about them. but you-” he pokes you in the nose. “-i love you.” 

you chew the bottom of your lip. “you sure...?” 

he rolls his eyes and continues to rub his thumb against your skin. “i’m not the type of person who’ll say i love you if i don’t mean it.”

“but what if... one day you fall out of love with me?” 

atsumu blinks and thinks about it for a moment. “it’s hard to imagine that day. i’m sure that day won’t happen. i want us to be those cool old-couples that take walks in the park every morning and help each other scrub their backs.” 

“‘tsumu, that’s oddly specific...” 

“mm...you feeling better now, baby?” he nuzzles his hair against your chest. you squirm around him from the ticklish feeling, biting your lip to prevent yourself from bursting out in laughter. 

he watches you squirm and smirks. with his fingers by your sides, he’s ready to attack you at any moment. “we haven’t finished out tickle-fight yet, we shall continue right now.” 

“t-t’sumu,” you snort, trying to grip his knuckles to stop him from poking your sides. with a free hand, your finger spiders against his ribside, causing him to flop on the bed. “got you~” 

a big grin spreads across your face, proud of yourself for knowing his weak spots. you quickly sit up before he gets to attack you again. 

“i’m not losing this one” atsumu’s devilish smile appears as he eyes your vulnerable spots, spots he knows will get him to win this tickle fight. he advances toward you, and you immediately lean away from him. “no no, come back i’m not gonna tickle you.” 

“yeah right. you said that last time and you totally did.” 

“i just want a kiss,” he insists, opening his arms to convince you. 

his arms looks too inviting to object so you instinctively crawls toward him and wraps your arms around him. before you can rest your head on his shoulder, atsumu wiggles his fingers deeply against your side-tummy. “got you again” 

you immediately stiffen, trying to bat his hands away but they just deepen against your skin. “’tsumu, you- ” you utter between breaths, “-you said you weren’t going to- this is why i don’t trust you” 

he stops as his eyes darkens. “...wait, do you not trust me because of our tickle-fights or our relationship in general” 

you catch your breath, having a hard time comprehending what he’s saying. “you told me you just wanted a kiss yet you still tickled me.” 

“but you trust me relationship-wise, right? you know i would never hurt you.” 

you blink some more. well, this took a serious turn. “...of course i trust you”

he sighs in relief. “good to know.” it doesn’t long for his serious frown to turn back to his usual smirk. that’s your cue to crawl away before it’s too late. 

“i’m not falling for your trick again” 

“but i just want a kiss,” he says, sticking out his bottom lip as he pouts. “i won’t do it again...” 

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabbles #hq x gn!reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

[yinyanchan]

Housemates x Zoot Suit Riot Crossover: Lucky and Strike part 2

Last part of the crossover. I will be trying to do one from what happened to Blue and Orange on the otherside but please enjoy Lucky and Strikes shennanigans! Also there is a bit of a teaser for a couple of skeletons not yet introduced in Zoot Suit Riot. Merica and Spirit. Dusttale Mafia Sans and Papyrus. Cigarrette brand American Spirit.

Under the Cut!

This was going to be a lot harder than they thought.

One thing for sure as they look at eachother… Nook possibly knows the truth but is deciding to stay out of it. He’s a Papyrus after all… far more clever than they let on.

They go the direction Nook had pointed out earlier and sure enough Lucky opens a door that looks to be Oranges and Strike opens the door that screams Blue. Well at least they knew where “their” rooms were. Now came time to plan… but as it seems… Maybe these guys were pushovers in this timeline. Other than the horror brothers… Can they confess to outright murdering? And for fun at times?

This wasn’t the dog eat dog atmosphere they were used to… It seemed like they all got along under one roof here. Not to mention… there was another you.

One so willing to give physical affection that Lucky had been striving for since he had arrived in the other “Original” Sans world… only this one wasn’t ripe with gangsters and rife with Mafia undertones.

Strike was in his own little world as well. Apparently debating their options as well as he hummed. They could play along for a bit and see how it goes. So what if Red “knew” they could pass it off as a dare gone bad.

Both smirked at one another as they came to the same conclusion.

Great minds think alike.

They were going to test this world out and see how open this world’s Y/N would be to being with them. Not that they didn’t like the other you… they were pretty fond of you as well but there hasn’t been a chance to really get to know you and you had your guard up a lot.

This you was different. Far more open it seemed… It made them feel bad that in the times they had been with the other you… the other you had never smiled that big… as if something was constantly on your mind and it was a heavy burden.

The more they thought about the other you… they found they actually missed you.

“You think she misses us?” Lucky looks down and Strike is floored with his older brother's question.

“Dunno we were quite the handful.” Strike chuckles but even doubt was in his soul as well. Lucky had never questioned the consequences before. They always happened whether they were good or bad. They were an inevitable outcome.

Strike could only stare in awe as he sees his brother briefly look so vulnerable.

“What if… what if she does and we can’t get back?”

Both didn’t want to answer Lucky’s question… they already knew they’d be stuck… The machinery here was far more advanced than Strike had ever worked with… seeing as he had to use scrap from the dump to make his. Yet he recognizes how modern tech works… just not the inner workings just yet.

“Then I guess our soulmate here will do… yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

The silence was awkward… even for them.

They both went to what was their rooms to search a few things and get situated. Probably wouldn’t take this world's Sans long after Red found him. Strike was hard up on information but Lucky at least found a journal that Blue kept that would provide a lot of useful tidbits. They then both reconvened into Blue’s room for a quick briefing as sure enough…

*knock knock*

“Hey, M’lord says dinner is ready. We’re just waitin’ on everyone ta get home.” Clueing in on the voice and the m’lord… That must be Russ.

“He also asks why ya didn’t come down ta help him but he then said ya were traumatized by Orange’s laundry.” They heard him snicker as the door pops open a little and there is a skeleton that looks like Mild. Yet wearing almost similar attire to the one they knew as Red. They watch as he stretches his lanky body with a yawn. Gold fang glittering in the light.

“Heh, one things fer sure Orange is at least ya don’t have ta put up wit wearin’ a security uniform… thems the pits.” Then his lazy gaze sharpens when he notices Lucky and Orange look at him in shocked almost fear… or anger… Russ wasn’t sure but it wasn’t something he was used to seeing from either skeleton unless it was something they thought was wrong.

“Ya two ok?” He asks and both skeletons seem to loosen themselves a bit and even though they had the laid back and cheerful disposition… they were still a bit tense.

“ARMED SECURITY?” Lucky asks with a grin.

“What the? No Blue. They don’t let me walk around the school campus wit a gun. I’m not a police officer.” Russ looks helpless as to why now Blue would even ask that.

“Yeah he’s not feelin’ all there after finding a sweet stash I had in my pockets that I… may have forgotten about… for longer than I care to mention.” Strike snickers and pats Lucky’s skull. It eases the more taller skeleton but the feeling that something was off was still there.

“Right… well I’m goin’ down ta get a good spot next to Darlin’.” With a wave he exits, shutting the door behind him.

Lucky instantly is growling.

“Damn rivals… no matter where we fucking go.” Lucky flings the journal back onto the desk and then back flops on the bed. Strike shakes his head.

“Guess we gotta go to dinner.” Strike heads his way to the door.

“Think it wise?” Lucky glares at him then wistfully gets up as his brother lifts a brow.

“I think it would be unwise not to.” Strike counters and they both put on their best game faces and make their way out.

As they turn to go down the other flight of stairs that was nearby… there was another skeleton they hadn’t seen… well in this world… before.

Kentucky as they knew him… his brother was Twist… well in this world this must be Axe. Nook's older brother.

He was just standing there leaning his back up against the hallway wall… his gaze not leaving them as they exited.

“HI AXE! HOW ARE YOU?” Luck does his bright and bubbly routine and Strike lazily waves with a grin.

Axe’s hollow smile dims slightly then stretches widely. His eye light narrowed in his skull. He chuckles and then kicks himself off the wall and ambles down the stairs. Once they were sure he was out of earshot.

“I don’t understand… I’ve read the journal and I’m definitely nailing the peppy persona… yet it’s like he knew instantly.” Lucky whispers over to Strike.

“Maybe Nook talked to him about us.” They both eyed each other then raised their guard before slapping on their persona attitudes.

As soon as they entered the kitchen…

“THERE YOU ARE! I HAD TO HELP IN THE KITCHEN BECAUSE YOU ARE TO BUSY SLACKING! JUST WHAT I WANTED TO DO AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK.” Was a tall and fearsome skeleton, yet definitely not their Swisher… this must be Edge. Swisher was tall, dark, and more importantly silent.

They looked at the table and everyone was there… including Red that was sitting by the one they took as the original Sans at the head of the table. His brother Papyrus was sitting on the other side reading a book.

“OH COME ON EDGE! IT WAS REVOLTING… I NEEDED SOME SPACE.” Lucky puts on his best puppy dog eyes and Edge scoffs.

“EXCUSES!!!” Edge fires back and brings a loaded serving dish to the table along with Berry.

“So… ya gonna do Red’s laundry I take it?” Strike smirks as Edge blanches and almost gags. It took everything for Lucky not to laugh, having been in said person's room, but instead give Strike a cross look. Strike pulls off a shrug as Lucky pretends to give that scolding gaze.

“FAIR ENOUGH.” Edge groans and motions for them to take a seat. You were already seated with Russ beside you and there was a vacant seat beside you. Lucky was eyeing it until Red growled and moved to sit next to you. Leaving everyone a little puzzled but Red was Red.

So Strike took the seat next Sans and Lucky took a seat next to Papyrus. Sans nods at Strike and Papyrus instantly latches onto Lucky’s attention. Showing off what was surely a courtship guide.

The meal was going great save for Red not really eating and his gaze constantly going back and forth between Lucky and Strike.

After dinner and dessert… which Lucky merrily ate seconds…

Sans clears his throat to gain everyone's attention.

“Now that everyone is settled and fed… elephant in the room… Who are you two and where’s Blue and Orange?” Sans scowls… Lucky and Strike freeze and just look at him in disbelief.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Lucky plays up his innocent act and anyone who didn’t know him personally could instantly be fooled with it.

“Yeah… not buying it.” Axe snickers.

“What were ya two fucks doin’ in my room?” Red growls.

“Language!” Berry fires at him but then… he turns to look at Lucky strangely as if waiting for Lucky to say something. When Lucky looked around they were all looking at him like he had grown two heads for being silent. Strike was trying to hide the fact he was starting to sweat… normally he’s good under pressure but usually because he’s got the upper hand… not so here.

Even you were looking at him oddly.

Sans set on a table a black with a little blue bowler hat on the table.

“MY BOWL…. I MEAN A BOWLER HAT!!! THATS NEAT.” Strike groans… Lucky loves that hat and has gone through death, gore, and destruction if it ever falls off. As everyone eyes him curiously.

“SERIOUSLY! I LIKE A TYPE OF HAT AND I'M A BAD GUY!? A SKELETON LIKE ME CAN ADMIRE THINGS… BESIDES I THINK IT SUITS ME.” He pouts.

“I’m gonna ask ya again. What tha fuck were ya doin’ in my room.” Red growls and glares at Berry as he looks to yell at him again for his language. Berry actually backs off with how serious Red is taking this.

“Blue said they had found one of your shirts in the dryer and he was returning it. Right Blue?” You ask even though you seemed very wary of this situation.

“Oh yeah? Where'd ya put it because I didn’t find shit.” He smacks his hands down on the table and raises himself to look at Lucky.

“LIKE I’D WANT TO ACTUALLY TOUCH ANYTHING IN YOUR ROOM. IT’S YOUR FAULT YOU CAN’T FIND IT.” Lucky glares back.

“SPEAKING OF COULDN’T FIND… YOU WEREN’T ABLE TO FIND YOUR OWN ROOMS AND THEN BLAMED IT ON A ROGUE SOCK.” Nook pipes up and Axe snickers.

“Also didn’t think ya guys liked my jokes.” Axe leers.

Lucky and Strike seem taken aback by how much these skeletons communicated.

“As fer not touching my stuff… Where is it?” Red scowls eyeing both Lucky and Strike. Strike seems to realize something very important, Lucky had pocketed something, he shoots his brother a ‘you didn’t!” look but Lucky was busy playing the part of the innocent.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN.” Lucky looks absolutely puzzled… Strike could only wonder what it was… The only thing Lucky had picked up was the magazine but tossed it when he thought he was caught.

Then Red does something that shocks everyone.

He pulls out said magazine and slaps on the table in front of Lucky. The cover sporting a fully nude woman giving a come hither look. There were gasps all around the table and you were blushing like mad.

“JESUS H FUCKING CHRIST!!!! THERE IS A LADY PRESENT YOU FUCKING DAFT CUNT!!!!” Lucky screams as he grabs the magazine and throws it away from your view. As he turns back everyone is slack jawed looking at him save for Red. Strike face palms as this world’s Sans turns to look at him.

“Give me back my centerfold ya damn creepy imposter!!! I know one of ya has it!” He turns his glare at Strike but he’s shaking his head.

“For fucks sake Lucky! You took the man's centerfold!?” Strike glares at his brother. Red puffs out his chest in pride knowing they had been caught.

“DAMMIT STRIKE!!! I TOLD YOU THAT I FELT JIPPED BECAUSE WE HAD NOTHING THAT SHOWED EVEN A SLIVER OF SKIN. THIS SHOWS EVERYTHING!!!!” Lucky reaches in the battle body and flips out the centerfold, that landed open for all to see. Lucky pauses and then turns to you sheepishly.

“I am so sorry… a lady like yourself shouldn’t have heard or seen any of that. My lady, I apologize.” Lucky is actually blushing and apologizing. That was a new one for Strike.

“MY WORD SANS… IT DOES SHOW EVERYTHING.” Papyrus blushes and Sans looks ballistic.

Berry is catatonic from the foul language as well as the lewd imagery. Russ seems bewildered at what to do. Looking around at his brother, the centerfold, then at you.

Edge is glaring at his proud brother.

“THIS IS WHY I TRY NOT TO GO IN YOUR ROOM. THIS IS NOTHING TO BE PROUD OF.” Edge growls at Red who then looks sheepish himself.

Nook and Axe are still eating their dessert merrily. Pretty much enjoying the show.

“Get. it. Off. the. Table. N o w.” Sans bellows his sockets become voids and Red grabs it and instantly stuffs it inside his jacket.

Once it is off the table Berry seems to reboot leaving Russ to sigh in relief.

“Strike and Lucky is it?” Sans growls.

They look over at him nervously.

“WHERE IS BLUE AND ORANGE?” Papyrus glares and they instantly freeze. Papyrus is the very serious boss attitude where they came from and he didn’t pull punches either.

“W-Well you see Papyrus all of a sudden we got thrown here in these clothes!” Strike immediately says, as Lucky glares.

“Stool pigeon.” Lucky gripes.

“Lucky!!! This is not the time! Look, we didn’t know what to think! We come from a very harsh environment alright? We are from the world of gangsters, hit men, Mafia. Hell our nicknames are after a cigarette brand called Lucky Strike. Same with all of you sitting here… save for the original Sans and Papyrus.” Strike holds his hand up. He knows when things get real and when to bow out. Lucky never knows when to quit.

“We just want to go back home but we didn’t want to say anything because we didn’t know who we were dealing with.” Strike sighs and then glares at Lucky who sighs as well.

“Your guys must’ve been pulled through to our side… SHIT… STRIKE IF THEY WERE PULLED TO THAT TIMELINE THEY’D BE EATEN ALIVE!!!” Lucky comes to the realization that leaving more kinder souls with the rough mafia types would be trouble.

Sans stands up.

“Let’s go.” Sans rallies the other skeletons and as you get up he halts you.

“Kiddo, that machine is dangerous. We know what it can do with skeletons. Just not humans.” He warns and you sigh, having to stay behind.

“It was nice to meet another you, honeybun.” Strike pats your head.

“Though it was a little too brief… we miss our Y/N.” Lucky says shyly and you hug both of them.

“I know Blue and Orange… and if you’re their counterparts… You can’t be all bad.” You say with a smile making them blush as you let them go.

The pull making them want to stay longer until Berry places the bowler hat on Lucky’s head.

“I WANT BLUE BACK. I MISS MY PARTNER IN KEEPING THINGS SANE AROUND HERE.” Berry huffs.

All the skeletons quickly made their way to the basement and to the machine. Sans goes over the records and quickly types in buttons as the other skeletons ask the pair questions.

Answering what they could about their homelife, the type of guns they prefered with their magic… The whirring of the machine caught everyone’s attention.

Bright light enveloped them and Blue and Orange came stumbling out in suits. As soon as they see everyone they run for hugs… even Orange.

“I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SEE ANY OF YOU AGAIN!!!” Blue wails and Orange whispers thank yous.

Then they turned and looked at their doubles. 

“YOU TWO ARE TROUBLE.” Blue glares.

“AND YOU TWO ARE TOO NICE.” Lucky glares back with a smirk.

“They knew instantly we were not you two and they almost tried to kill us when we asked honey questions.”

“Yeah… about that… she still doesn’t know about the machine… still thinks we’re cousins and all that bs.” Strike snickers.

“Yet it seems this Sans has told the truth which is commendable.” Lucky nods.

“ACTUALLY THAT WAS OUR BAD.” Nook pipes up.

“Yep.” Axe concurs.

“Right… seems to be Kentucky and Twist's goal as well, if they can get to her that is. Oh and they are mafia versions of you two.” Lucky points at Nook and Axe.

Then they look worried…

“Has there been an Merica or a Spirit here?” Strike asks nervously.

They all look at him questioningly.

“A FUCKED UP PSYCHO OF A SANS AND A GHOSTLY FLOATING PAPYRUS HEAD!?” Lucky informs.

They all looked puzzled but shook their heads no.

“Thank yer lucky stars. Keep the machine off.” Strike warns.

Soon they swap their attires with each other. Lucky revelling being back in his suit while Strike seems to miss what he was wearing.

The machine is ready as Sans motions them to get ready to head back.

Lucky then approaches Blue and places a hand on his shoulder. Leaning his skull in with a wry smile.

“Take good care of our soulmate here and we will take good care of ours back… home.” Lucky says with a shy smile still clasping Blue’s shoulder.

With a pat on Blue’s shoulder Lucky then walks to join his brother as the light of the machine begins to get brighter, about to send them both back where they belonged.

“Soulmate?” Blue questions making both Lucky and Strike falter.

As the whirring got louder Lucky let out a string of curses before.

“ALL OF YOU HAVE BEEN LIVING WITH YOUR SOULMATE THIS ENTIRE FUCKING TIME AND YOU NEVER KNEW!!!? WHAT THE FUCKING HELL…” His rant is cut off as the machine sucks them back to their world.

All the skeletons look at one another and begin blushing.

Except Axe.

He laughs and they all look at him.

“What? Explains a lot don’t it?” He smirks then leaves the others to ponder on it. Then blush even more as they had noticed that they did indeed seem to gravitate towards you.

#Zoot Suit Riot #Lucky #Strike #Housemates #Underswap Sans #Underswap Papyrus #Underswap Mafia Sans #Underswap Mafia Papyrus

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Ghosts’ Journey: (Part 1) Wooden Dolls

The game does NOT convey the true horror of Black Swan Bay.... Feel free to refer to this as a lore post. @rurifangirl by request

You arrive at the Takamagahara at around 3am, soaked to the bone and disheveled.  The rain was still falling, though it had let up somewhat. You're shocked to hear the voices of the four men immediately after you open the door.

"MC! You're okay!" Lu Mingfei's greeting was full of joyful relief. "I'm so glad. I saw you fall from the tower and…"

"MC!" At the same time he spoke, Caesar’s haughty voice was like a trumpet. "There you are! I was considering sending out a search party for you!"

Chu Zihang’s voice was one of quiet amazement.  "You made it!"

"It's the woman of the hour!" Fingel raised his glass.

The Nightclub was already closed. The floor was empty and the lights were out save those illuminating the bar. They were all still drinking. An open bottle of whiskey was next to them and half filled glasses of ice were stationed by each of them. They were dry so they must have been here for a bit, but they seemed to be waiting for you!

It was the surprise party you didn't know you needed. The night had started with a bugged conversation with Bondarev and Herzog, two men you'd be happy to kill, and ended, once again, fighting hordes of Deadpool.

You brush your hair back and smile, resting one hand on your hip.  "Is this MC Romance Contest season two?" You approach the bar. "Thanks for leaving the rope there for me to get down." You nodded to Fingel and straightened your shirt. "Ms. Yabuki's ok as well." Then you freeze. "What are you wearing?" 

Fingel was dressed in a suit that sparkled silver in the dim neon lights! He looked like a bowl of glitter had gained sentience. "Do you like it?"

You pause, recalling Ruri's polite treatment of Fingel's performing career. "I … can definitely see you better!"

Caesar waves you over to a stool between him and Chu Zihang and pours you a glass from the bottle of whiskey. "Sorry it took so long. I was extra careful to be sure I wasn't followed." You say.

Chu Zihang nods. "Wise. But likely unneeded. The Hydra have their hands full cleaning up the mess under the Tokyo Tower and thinking of ways to explain this disaster."

You raise your glass to your lips and sip. Your smile remains but it's as bitter as the whiskey in your hands. "You don't realize how much Bondarev wants me dead. He was trying to entrap me in that tower the whole time we were fighting deadpool. It's some dedication. "

"Then we have good news! Sources within Hydra say Tachibana is dead! So you can rest easy there!" Fingel strikes his superman pose, puffing out chest and displaying the wiry hairs that peeked out of his low cut collar.

You freeze and fix Fingel with a cold stare of denial. Your mind races. “Bondarev is dead? No…"

"It's true!" As Fingel speaks he pantomimes the scene. "There were deadpool in the underground garage! Chisei was driving in Tachibana's Mercedes alone but the exit ramp was slicked with oil by the Devil Clan! Tachibana used Chisei's Hummer to push him up the ramp, but he was too wounded to continue himself so he set the ramp and the car ablaze and burned to death inside to kill the beasts! It was quite the noble sacrifice of a father for a son." Fingel sighed dramatically. 

Your frown deepens, unimpressed. "Yeah, that's how I know it's bullshit. That man doesn't sacrifice himself for anyone. Period. He wants to disappear."

Fingel deflated.

"Why?" Lu Mingfei is shocked. 

You look at him, you snarl like a dog, barking low in its growl. "To chase me! I knew it! He wasn’t going to let me go! I am a witness! I am strong. I understand him on a deep level! I have to die. He will chase me to the end. The only reason I didn't kill him on that tower was because Chisei would have snapped me in half!"

Fingel stares wide eyed at you. Caesar and Chu Zihang exchange glances from either side of you.

"You should have seen him there,  acting sorry and repentant. 'Oh, what I did was wrong. I can never be redeemed!'" You clasp your hands over your heart and roll your eyes to the heavens. Then you point your finger to the table. "He's got Chisei hypnotized, thinking he's somehow a murderer but actually really good at heart! And now that he's dead in a sacrificial manner, Chisei may never be convinced otherwise! It's absolutely genius." 

You sip your glass and tilt your head. "I can't leave this place. Hell, he might already know I'm here. I didn't see anyone tailing me but maybe he already knows and is cutting Hydra attachments so he can tie up loose ends like me before resurrecting the White King. I did the right thing by coming here late… but was it enough?" You calm your smile and Caesar offers you a cigarette.  You wave him away. "I'm good. Where's Ruri? Has anyone heard from him?"

Caesar tucked the cigarette back into the carton. "That's what we were waiting to discuss. We searched the area where Ruri Kazama disappeared on the glider and found the King General trying to drag him into a black Maybach car."

You had been about to sip the whiskey again but nearly dropped the glass, spilling some of it on the table. "What? But I saw him get cut to pieces! His head was cut off. No one could survive that!"

You look between Caesar and Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei, but they all had the same serious expression. 

Chu Zihang smoothly cleaned up your mess with a napkin in silence.

"He is alive. We all saw him standing next to the car. His eyes were red and gold. Like a Dragon King." Lu Mingfei said quietly. 

Caesar murmured, his eyes dull. "Or maybe some sort of spirit."

Chu Zihang seems equally discouraged, tossing the napkin in a waste bin with characteristic accuracy.  "My mind doesn't accept a belief in things like ghosts. But I can't come up with an explanation.  There have been many things I have seen in Japan that defy explanation.  But this…"

A heavy silence descended over the five of you.

"So Herzog… and Bondarev got away?" You ask. They all nodded. It was undeniable.  You just had to accept it.

Your mouth has gone dry and you lick your lips, feeling sick to your stomach. "Is Ruri ok?" 

"We got to him in time. He wasn't physically hurt. But Herzog used some mind control method to stop the man from fighting back. A clapper sound." Caesar said. “Like a banging of two sticks together.”

At the words ‘clapper sound’, you understand and hear it in your head. That hollow tapping of two pieces of wood, like a loud metronome. It grows louder and louder and fills your head.  Your eyes go wide and dull as though the bright and vibrant soul behind them had fled to hide.

You remembered yourself as a child playing a game of soccer.  The score was close. You were tearing across the grass and looked over at Anton. He was growing more handsome by the day and his smile was particularly warm to you today. You swiped the ball with your foot to pass it to him and, as you did, you heard it. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The soccer ball rolled past Anton and collided with the fence. Anton stood straight and stiff, eyes rolled back. The sound of children at play instantly cut off, like someone had muted a television set. All the children in the field stood like wooden dolls. You were the only one alive. 

A nurse loomed in the gate with the blocks of wood, staring at you with black cold eyes.

This was not the first flashback you’d had of Black Swan Bay. The first one occurred in Genji Heavy Industries, when Caesar in disguise was confronted by a furious Nanami Sakurai. She struck him across the face. The sound of it sent you back to a memory of you accidentally breaking dishes and being struck like that. In that sudden surge of panic, you had grabbed Caesar's hand and hurried out of the elevator until he stopped you.

He described you as a ‘scared rabbit’.

It wasn’t Herzog you feared. You didn’t fear the beatings or the solitary confinement or the painful needles. You feared the black-eyed nurses you worked with every single day. A single bad report, a single stroke of a pen, they could send you away in the dark medical room and turn you into a wooden doll!

So in the field, you stiffen your arms and dull your eyes. You march to the designated spot in line and place your hands on the shoulders of the doll-like child in front of you. Another doll-like child put her hands on your shoulders. They check the cloth cuffs of the children one by one as they exit the playground. You’re wearing a cloth cuff.

You were child number 21....

“Easy, I think she’s coming out of it.” The voice sounded far away. “MC you’re having a flashback. Take a deep breath.”

Just like the flashback in Genji Heavy Industries, the dream was gone as soon as it came. You’re gasping uncontrollably. You weren’t in Black Swan Harbor. You weren’t standing before the dark eyed nurse who could take your soul away!

You were just in the Takamagahara Nightclub. There was no one but Caesar and Chu Zihang, Lu Mingfei and Fingel.

“Easy.” Chu Zihang’s voice was gentle.

Fingel was frozen like a statue in a state of shock. Lu Mingfei only looked concerned. “MC are you okay?”

Your breathing slows and you start to feel embarrassed. Your mind comes back to you but you can’t remember what the subject of the conversation was. You realize that you’re shaking and sweating. You clasp your hands tightly and squeeze hard, letting the pain repress the emotion. It was the only way you knew how to stuff everything back in the box where it had spilled out. “I’m sorry. Just … give me a minute.”

Caesar’s eyes lift to Chu Zihang’s. “We actually considered calling a psychiatrist for Ruri Kazama but I'm thinking we need one for you too.”

You nod, responding to Caesar but talking to yourself. “That’s right. We were talking about Ruri. Herzog’s mind control. I… I forgot.”

Caesar reached out and you closed the gap between his hand and yours. You’d squeezed so hard you’d bruised yourself with your own fingerprints. “We just need to know how it works.” Caesar said.

“Right.” You take another deep breath. “Almost all the children in Black Swan Bay had their heads cut at a very young age. The children all had a brain surgery that made them susceptible to the sound. The last one I remember getting it was Vera. The nurses couldn’t deal with her stutter. They would beat her and try to make her talk well. They just got sick of it. One morning, I woke up and she had the bandages wrapped around her head. She still stuttered, but if the nurses tapped the woodblock she spoke without the stutter, so it was easy for them.”

Fingel’s hand was over his mouth and Lu Mingfei’s look of horror was not a farce. Unlike Chu Zihang and Caesar Gattuso who had discussed Black Swan Harbor with Ruri Kazama before, this was their first initiation to the nightmare that was your world as a child.

“Did you have this surgery?” Caesar gently asked.

“No. I was lucky because I made Dr. Herzog laugh. I was still… in the pediatric creche… area?” You struggled to find words because you only experienced that time in Russian. “They kept this iron bar cover over the beds at night so you couldn’t get up. One day, I lost a tooth. I hid the tooth in my mouth all day until the nurse came to shut the beds over us at night. Then I shoved the tooth in the latch. She was in a hurry, so she didn’t realize it hadn’t locked all the way.”

“I was able to climb out of my crib. All the children either were too young to be able to escape or had their heads cut and were recovering at that time, so… no one was watching. I got out into the hallway and everything was dark. But Dr. Herzog was there, smoking a cigar. I didn’t know I was scared of him. So I just said… Hi! Are you … are you Santa?”

You suddenly cover your face with your hands when you remember his smile. His laughter. He laughed so much. You laughed too, something you’d never done. It felt good to laugh. Your mind was flooded with happy feelings. After that, you were favored. Even if the nurses had a complaint he would wave it away. Herzog didn’t cut your brain because he thought you were funny. 

Even now, you’re laughing, you’re laughing low, almost like sobs, but you’re smiling. You know you shouldn’t laugh. This is terrible. It’s horrible. Horrific. But you’re laughing. Santa... are you Santa? The words echoed in your head. Absolutely hilarious.

“We should stop. We got our answer.” Chu Zihang said quietly.

You smell the scent of cigarettes and it buoy’s you back to reality. You rub your hands dry on your pants. “If he can control Ruri with the woodblock then his brain has been cut.”

Your voice is dull and  your eyes empty.

No one said anything for a long time. 

“Can I go see him?” You finally ask.

They had arranged for Ruri Kazama to sleep in the most secluded bedroom at the end of the hallway, just a wall away from the luxurious bathroom where they had been temporarily housed. He wasn’t dressed in his costume any more, but wore a simple cotton white shirt and straight cotton pants. A pair of comfortable gray sneakers rested by the door. He was once a devil of great evil, with strength comparable to the emperor Chisei, not yielding to anyone, ferociously trying to assassinate Herzog, but now his power and iron-like will have been taken away. He was a wooden doll staring at the roof in the dark room, his eyes blinking gently at long intervals, his gaze unfocused.

The pain is so intense you want to scream, but you can’t. This hurt. It hurt worse than Chance’s death because this was a fate worse than death. The evil of the nurses had reached out their skeletal pale hands from Black Swan and seized the soul of Ruri Kazama before you even had the chance to know him. You staggered to his bedside and collapsed to your knees. You grip your hands in your hair and tears rolled down your face. They were heavy, large enough to tickle your nose, like the tropical rain that was falling out of the sky. But you didn’t move and you didn’t make a sound. You grit your teeth and hold it in.

Eventually, Caesar comes to check on you. “Hey, you should get changed before you catch cold.”

“I don’t want to leave him.” Your voice is broken and sad in the dark. He would see you kneeling on a floor that was speckled with the dark marks under your face.

Caesar left for a moment and after a few minutes returned with a towel and a pair of pajamas. Then he closed the door again. You dry yourself off as best you can and change. You don’t care that Ruri’s right in front of you. He won’t remember anything.

Even as you climb into the bed under the warm and soft quilt, he doesn’t move until your cold body presses against his warm skin and your cold hands touch his face. It’s a shiver reaction and a slight gasp. Such basic, physical responses are all a soulless Black Swan Bay child could manage after all. Holding him was like holding a teddy bear. An inanimate thing. “Ruri...” You whisper, knowing he wouldn’t hear or be able to answer you.

Anton died in this state. You told people that Anton was shot in front of you by the man you viewed as your father. But really, his soul had left before that. Herzog approached the boy in the wheelchair and banged the woodblock. Anton’s hollow eyes lit up with a faint golden glow under them. He slowly turned his head to look at Bondarev, like a cold-blooded animal examining its prey.

#Dragon Raja

[pikapeppa]

@schoute made me some more gorgeous art of Fenris and Rynne Hawke and I cried. I stared at it and cried some more. And then I wrote some smut. 😂

Please go to AO3 to see the whole uncensored thing. 

Please, I beg you, go look. It’s beautiful. 😭❤️😭❤️

Accompanying fic is ~1670 words, below the cut. Timeline-wise, it takes place soon after the FenHawke reunion in Act III. 

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

 “Hawke,” he gasps, and she stops breathing for a moment.

It’s his voice. His lips brushing against her ear – no, his lips nipping her ear now as he flexes and sinks inside of her again. Yes, his lips breathing a soft and steady sort of praise against her ear… 

“Hawke,” he groans. “Are you – is this – ah... ”

She arches her spine and gazes vacantly across the room in an ecstatic sort of haze. His hips are pumping against her ass and his chest is hot against her back, and his perfect voice is placing words directly into her ear with every guttural breath. 

“Tell me if you – if you want to switch…” Fenris trails off with a groan, and Maker’s balls, that fucking sound he makes: it rolls out of his throat and across her naked back like a wave of sheer lust pouring over her skin, and it pushes her further into the pleasure that his driving cock and the weight of his body have already brought her.

He’s panting now, hot gusts of desperation against the back of her ear that are lifting goosebumps on her skin, and she closes her eyes to better savour the delicious shiver as it trails down the back of her neck. A minute later, however, his hips pull back and his mouth moves away from her ear. 

She opens her eyes and twists around to look at him. “Hey,” she complains. “Why did you stop–”

He grasps her hip and thrusts into her again, a sleek hard thrust that drives a cry from her throat. Then he’s leaning over her again and penning her in with his lovely tattooed arms.

“Now you decide to speak?” he says dryly.

She laughs breathily. “I was listening!”

“Listening to what?” he pants. 

“You, you handsome fool,” she says. “I like the sounds you make when you’re fucking me.” She wiggles her hips pleadingly. “You can keep fucking me and making more noises anytime now.”

He bursts out a breathless little laugh. “Fasta vass, Hawke. You will make me blush.” He slides into her slowly, and Rynne cries out and twists her fingers in the sheets. Fenris fills her so perfectly, fitting inside of her and soothing the void that no number of orgasms can seem to fill. No matter how much she touches herself, how often he touches her with his incongruously elegant warrior’s fingers or how many times he dips that gorgeous white-haired head between her legs, it’s not quite the same as this. It’s not the same as when he’s looming over her like this, like his body is her shelter and his arms are holding her in and keeping the world at bay. It’s not the same as when he holds her down, twining his fingers with hers and pressing her palms into the mattress like he’s grounding her here in the safety of the bed they share. 

It’s not the same as when he fucks her hard, giving her his cock in the kind of deep and driving rhythm that fills her so completely that there’s no room for worries or errands or mages or Templars or anything else. There’s no room for anything else, not here in this bed with Fenris driving into her over and over until the bedroom is practically steaming with the sweat of their skin and the satisfaction that leaves their throats raw and parched. 

It’s not the same. No matter how exquisitely he makes her come, no matter how boneless and shaky she is in the aftermath or whether her vision goes black and starry for that mind-blowing moment when she hits her peak, it is not quite the same as when Fenris holds her against his treasured body and pours that precious growl of a voice in her ear and fucks her so sweetly that the only word she can speak is his name.

“Say something,” she begs. 

He groans again as he fills her up. “Like what?” he gasps.

“I don’t know. Anything,” she says. “Tell me – tell me what you did today.”

He huffs. “I was with you all day,” he says. He thrusts into her again and presses his mouth to the side of her neck, and within seconds, his tongue and his teeth on her skin have her gasping.

“Please,” she sobs. “Say something, Fenris. I want you to – fuck!” He’s grinding his hips against her ass now, and before she can attempt to pull in a breath, his lips are at her ear again. 

“Should I tell you that I was thinking of this from the moment I woke this morning?” he murmurs.

His voice, his fucking precious voice: it’s low and intimate and laced with a hint of laughter. It is fucking flawless, and it sends a fresh shiver of delight down her spine. “That depends,” she gasps. “Is that true?” 

He chuckles softly. “You think I would lie about this?”

“No,” she mewls. “No, of course not, I–” 

He bites her neck, and she gasps and grips the sheets in her fists. Two more kisses to her neck, and then his mouth is at her ear once more. “I thought of this first thing this morning,” he tells her. “And again when you were picking up that… that blasted tome in the market. And again while I was waiting for you to f-finish your visit with Merrill…” 

She pants for breath and doesn’t reply. His hips are picking up speed, thrusting into her faster while his voice becomes tense and erratic along with his breathing, but still he continues to talk. 

“I have been thinking of this all day,” he says. “In fact, I… I’ve been able to think of little else.”

Rynne nods furiously. She knows the feeling  – Maker’s balls, does she know the feeling. She can barely think of anything but this feeling: the feeling of being held and held down by Fenris, ensnared and embraced by Fenris, fucked and filled and fulfilled by Fenris while he breathes such wonderful words into the sex-scented air that surrounds them. 

He slams into her once more. “You speak now,” he moans. “Say something, Hawke.” 

“I fucking love you,” she blurts. “And I love it when you fuck me good and hard – ah!” She breaks off with an ecstatic cry: he’s fucking her hard now, a rough and rapid rhythm that shoves her into the mattress with every thrust while his palms push her hands into the bed and his chest presses into her back and his mouth presses into her neck and his breathing fills her ears and –

And yes, yes, he’s shuddering on top of her and gripping her hands so hard it almost hurts, and the sound he makes as he comes: the sound he makes is raw and uninhibited, a wordless plea and a wordless prayer wrapped in the cracked cadence of his glorious voice, and it’s almost enough to send her straight to the stars. 

He breathes against her ear, ribs rising and falling against her back as his hips lay flush and still against the cushion of her ass, and Rynne smiles like a fucking fool and doesn’t move at all. When Fenris releases her hands and begins to shift away, she hastily grabs his wrists. 

“Stay,” she says. 

“I am not leaving,” he says quietly. “I was just going to let you rise.”

“No,” she murmurs. “Stay here.” She tucks one of his hands beneath her body. 

He scoffs. “Hawke, I’m crushing you,” he says, but he’s sliding his arm around her waist to hug her from behind. 

“That’s fine,” she says brightly. “I like being crushed by you. You’re my favourite blanket. Nice and heavy and warm.” She smiles and snuggles her cheek into the pillow. “Now talk some more. Say something.”

He chuckles and settles himself more snugly against her back. “Always with the talking,” he drawls. “What do you want me to say?” 

“Anything,” she says. “Whatever you like. Say something obscene in Qunlat if you like.”

He snorts softly but doesn’t speak right away, and Rynne waits patiently as he breathes on top of her. When he speaks, the words leave him on a slow and lazy sigh. “I don’t think I will ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” she says.

His arm tightens around her. “This. You. Lying here like this with… with you.”

Her smile widens. She sighs happily and squeezes his other hand. “Well, that’s good. I like to think I’m not boring you in bed.” She waits in amusement for him to tell her to shut up or to call her an idiot in his lovely sardonic way, but he surprises her with a soft and serious tone.

“Never,” he says. “That will never… I will never grow bored of you.”

His voice is soft and smooth with contentment, but the words he delivers in that perfect voice are enough to make her heart swell with joy. She tries to hide her smile, but it bursts across her face until she’s sure she looks as giddy as she feels. 

She carefully shifts out from beneath him. A moment later, they’re lying face-to-face on the rumpled dampness of her sheets in a tangle of sweat-laced limbs, and his emerald-green eyes are the warmest thing in this room. 

She strokes his cheek. “Smooth talker,” she says. “That’ll get you everywhere with me.”

His lips quirk at the corners. “I’m glad to hear it,” he murmurs. “I shall endeavour to keep talking, then.”

She smiles, then gently kisses his beloved lips. Fenris can say anything he likes, whether it’s diatribe or a dry joke or a drowsy post-coital confession of love. As long as he keeps talking and fucking her and holding her close like his body is her home, she will be happy. 

As long as Fenris keeps talking, Rynne will be happy forever.  

#i just [sob] have a lot of feelings okay #A LOT OF FEELINGS #fenris #fenris fan art #fenris smut #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fhawris #f!hawris #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenrynne #schoute draws #pikapeppa writes #PIKAPEPPA DROWNS IN FEELINGS

[guardianreadersofthegalaxy]

My July ‘20 - June ‘21 film ranking:

1.       His House (AKA ‘Walls… I Scream’) – A Sudanese couple seek refuge in the UK, but are unable to escape the horror they left behind. It’s a tried and tested horror formula: a strained family unit try to come to terms with shared trauma against the backdrop of a serious social issue. But it’s really well executed. The understated tone left me unprepared for the brazenly nightmarish imagery.

2.       Sound Of Metal (AKA ‘Deaf Becomes Him’) – A punk drummer and recovering addict deals with a sudden and severe loss of hearing. I wish I’d gotten to see more of Riz Ahmed drumming with his shirt off but maybe that’s point? The sudden silence hits Ruben and the viewer like a tonne of bricks with ‘point of hearing’ sound design ensuring you empathise. Olivia Cooke is great too and the desperate romance between addicts really appealed to the angsty teen in me, until it resolves in an appropriately mature way.

3.       The Dig (AKA ‘Ralph Fiennes A Boat’) – On the eve of World War II, a wealthy widow hires excavator Basil Brown to dig up an Anglo Saxon burial mound. The stakes are low but it’s just nice to spend time in the countryside with these characters. I normally like shaky-cam and creative sound mixing but both are overused enough to be a bit distracting. Where director Simon Stone really shines is with his handling of the cast, who give some great naturalistic performances, particularly Ralph Fiennes who seems to be channelling Toby Jones.

4.       Nomadland (AKA ‘Van Clan Thank You Ma’am) – After losing her home, unemployed widow Fern takes to the road to join the American nomads. Why are non-actors so good at acting? This is pretty light on characterisation, to the extent that it wasn’t until halfway through that I started to get a grasp of Fern’s personality, but it makes up for that by immersing you in the nomad culture, as well as showing you tonnes of lovely nature porn. Paid for by the tourism board of Nevada.

5.       Mank (AKA ‘So What If It’s Not Citizen Kane?’) – Alcoholic screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz draws on his experiences of 1930s Hollywood while writing the screenplay for ‘Citizen Kane’. I was more interested than emotionally invested. The old timey aesthetic felt like a gimmick, and though it was cool to hear Nine Inch Nails playing jazz tunes, the black & white gave me a headache. The real highlight was the late Jack Fincher’s screenplay, with tonnes of snappy and insightful dialogue.

6.       A Quiet Place Pt. 2 (AKA ‘Now With Talking!’) Pursued by monsters with powerful hearing, the Abbot family struggle to survive after the apocalypse. Remind me to always see horror in the cinema from now on. The big screen and sound system, and your inability to pause for a pee break, make all the difference. Though I prefer the first ‘Quiet Place’, this was a scarier watch, by virtue of me seeing it in the theatre. ‘Pt 2’ mostly lives up to the original, but lacks the emotional punch of its ending, and suffers from being split into two plots that don’t overlap.

7.       In The Heights (AKA ‘I Am Not Throwing Away My Shop’) – An adaptation of the Tony award winning show about Washington Heights’ Latin American community. It’s not easy adapting a stage musical for the screen, particularly a good one. And while I’ll still credit Lin Manuel Miranda’s source material for any and all gooseflesh I got, director John M. Chu did a pretty respectable job, with some nice creative flourishes. A lot of changes were made, many to the film’s detriment, but some provided new opportunities for characterisation.

8.       Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (AKA ‘I Miss Theatres’) – A 1920s Chicago blues band embark on a tumultuous recording session. This has all the strengths and weaknesses of a play. The spectacles of cinema are done away with in order to spotlight the many duologues and monologues in a way that feels unnatural for a film. But the source material is excellent and the cast definitely do it justice.

9.       Tenet (AKA ‘Taco Cat’) – A mercenary known only as ‘The Protagonist’ gets caught up with time travel, a Russian oligarch and the threat of Armageddon. This is way too long and the endless, inaudible exposition gets dull very quickly but the inventive and heart-racing action sequences more or less make up for that. The male actors all play their roles with charisma while Elizabeth Debicki is left to do the emotional heavy lifting.

10.   Saint Maud (AKA ‘I’m Walking On Thumb Tacks Oh-oh’) – A hospice nurse and recent Christian convert believes she must save the soul of her terminally ill patient. I never say this, but Saint Maud should have been longer. The first seventy minutes go for slow building tension but that leaves the last half hour with not enough time to bring things to a head. The creepy atmosphere is carried by the music and visuals more than the understated performance of the two leads.

11.   Luca (AKA ‘Started Out As A Fish, How Did I End Up Like This?) – Young sea monster Luca ventures onto dry land to see the world with his friend Alberto. It’s a much breezier story than Pixar’s ‘heavy hitters’ but there’s nothing wrong with that. The underwater animation was so beautiful I was disappointed when things moved to dry land but fortunately the seaside setting was just as evocative. Plot-wise, it’s pretty standard coming-of-age fare, with any pubescent ‘awakenings’ relegated to subtext.

12.   Soul (AKA ‘Jazz’) – A New York school band teacher struggles to escape the ‘Great Before’ in time to play a gig with his hero. This is absolute treacle to the eyes and ears as you’d expect from Pixar, and the narrative theme, of living for the sake of it rather than obsessing over your goals, is insightful and well delivered. The problem is that the story did too good a job of getting me invested in Joe’s hopes and dreams for me to be on board with his final epiphany. Perhaps it’s a lesson I still need to learn, and when I have, maybe I’ll appreciate ‘Soul’ more.

13.   News Of The World (AKA ‘Not Enough News’) – A travelling news reader takes a dangerous journey through post-civil war Texas to return a young girl to her relatives. This is one of the most unremarkable films I’ve ever seen. The plot is fine but predictable and its execution is forgettably competent across the board, with few distinguishing features. It adequately killed two hours of a lockdown evening, but then so would a screen of white noise.

14.   I’m Thinking Of Ending Things (AKA ‘The Arty-Farty Film For Clever Cloggses’) – A young woman goes to visit her new boyfriend’s parents as she contemplates ‘ending things’. This would have made a great short film in that it seems very deep and, for the 50 mins before I stopped watching, doesn’t really have a plot. Problem is it’s 135 mins long and I can’t take that much unbroken weirdness. Directing, acting and writing choices are all so offputtingly deliberate that watching it felt like listening to a band where every member is soloing at the same time.

15.   Uncorked (AKA ‘Billy Sommeliot’) – A young man from Memphis dreams of leaving his parents’ barbeque restaurant to become a sommelier. This is just kinda follows the formula of ‘young working class guy wants to do something his parents don’t approve of’. It’s competently made but not very imaginative and wastes the opportunity for some great food porn.

#my post #film ranking #ranking #his house #wunmi mosaku #sound of metal #riz ahmed #the dig #carey mulligan #nomadland #chloe zhou #frances mcdormand #mank #david fincher #gary oldman #a quiet place part 2 #emily blunt #in the heights #lin manuel miranda #anthony ramos #ma rainey's black bottom #chadwick boseman #viola davis #tenet #christopher nolan #saint maud #luca pixar #soul pixar #pixar #news of the world

[vasoula]

The Peepshow (chapter two)

Summary: Two months after his redemption journey, Sasuke is back to Konoha and Sakura couldn’t be more happy about them spending a lot of time together. However, things take a hard turn when Sakura is assigned a special mission and she has to hide it from the rest of Team 7. Everything comes spiraling down when Sasuke finds out exactly what she has to do. 

Tags: hard rated m, blank period, kinda AU-ish

Chapter one here, ffnet, Ao3.

Next chapter

Author's notes: An alternate title to this chapter could be "take a drink everytime sasuke activates his sharingan because of sakura" ;) I tried to keep my boy as much as in character as possible! My girl Saku is easier to approach thought wise. This the point of the three chaptered fic that things really take off :P Man, writing pole dancing is HARD ;) Enjoy some slowburn denial seduction sasusaku with a dose of humor, my loves! Also, big thank to everyone who read this, especially to those who left lovely comments! Thank you so much for your support! :D See ya next week! Just in case, english is not my first language and this chapter is only edited by me :D

“Act two: Seducing one jealous Uchiha”

Sasuke Uchiha, for the first time in years, sees red.

He feels his eye power activate before he can control it as his chakra flares at the images flashing before him.

Sakura, his lovely Sakura, up the stage right in front the pole, looking straight at him in the most alluring way possible. Her body on full display and her face looking so different from her usual choice of make up he almost would tell you this is not her. But, those unmistakably beautiful eyes belong only to one person.

The glass of whiskey in his hand is close to breaking when Kakashi's voice cuts through his rage filled haze.

"Sasuke, stop." His mentor warns in a serious voice, just in time before they are detected by other people. It has the desired effect because Sasuke deactivates his sharingan instantly.

Naruto places his arm on his friend's stump, feeling the chakra pulsating there. The blond man says nothing although a crease in his brow has formed. He looks at Sasuke worriedly awaiting his reaction, averting his eyes from the stage where Sakura is dancing as if she does not have a care in the world.

Sasuke is clenching his jaw so hard, his teeth are aching from the pressure he is putting them on. He cannot believe what his eyes are seeing right now. Sakura who is supposed to be back in Konoha is up there on stage dancing for a target she is supposed to seduce and she has not told him a single fucking thing about this.

In fact, no, she lied to him and told him she would be staying at Tsunade for some medical bullshit she supposedly had to do with her mentor. He remembers the fifth Hokage calling him an arrogant brat for disliking this kind of mission.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm his nerves, before he does something risky.

He feels his heart beating ridiculously fast in his chest for some reason as he looks up at the stage. Trying to see her face, he wants her to look him in the eye and tell him how does she feel now that she is making him hurt.

Does she not trust him enough with this information that she knew could potentially affect what they have? Why did she have to lie about it? Sasuke knows that there is some shinobi mission confidentiality, but they both know between them the barrier is drawn and she could tell him anything. Especially something that could potentially strain their feelings. Maybe knowing his nature she knew he would not like what she would have to do, but the outcome is the same anyways. Is he supposed to feel like this? What is the word again? Jealous, he thought.

Sasuke clicks his tongue and ticks his head to the right side. "I see," he says in venomous voice, uncharacteristic of him nowadays.

Acting unbothered, his eyes stay focused on the stage where the most important woman in his life is dressed in a skimpy lingerie trying to bait the target with her high class skills.

Naruto shakes his head knowingly and rests his forehead on his open palm, leaning on the armchair he is sitting on. "Man, this is bad," he says mournfully.

Kakashi finally breaks the ice by speaking again, trying to mend things in the worst way possible, "Damn didn't know she had it in her."

The gray haired man feels the Uchiha's rage before the sizzling stare reaches him.

"Shut it," Sasuke mutters angrily.

All their heads turn instantly when they hear a man shout in excitement exclaiming how hot Sakura is by throwing a bunch of money her way.

Sasuke feels the beginnings of a headache starting to form.

The heavy beat of the song is pounding strongly in his ears and he cannot help it when his eyes focus on Sakura once again. If he is being completely honest with himself, he did not know she had it in her either.

If you had told Sakura Haruno in the past that she would be pole dancing in front of Sasuke Uchiha, she would laughed straight at your face and call you an idiot.

But now, as she grinds her hips on the pole, she feels like she is the idiot. And the butt of her own jokes apparently.

She is really feeling herself actually. The lingerie she is wearing is top notch and it fits her body perfectly like it was made for her. It is dark red in color with stripes both on her chest and belly creating Xs. Her heels are not killing her like she imagined they would and she really likes the sparkle in them. And even though she is starting to sweat, she knows her make up will stay in place because she put all her time and effort on it to make it look bomb. It does look amazing on her as it accentuates her eyes in the best way possible. A red lip and black smokey look will do that to your face. Sakura also thinks her long curly hair really added a whole new vibe to her look.

Sakura grabs the steel in front of her and arches back. She rolls her head, moving her body and spinning around the pole. Her chest glistens teasingly thanks to the light and she pushes her hips forward to gain some momentum. She abandons the pole for now and dances a little around the stage to gain the attention of the crowd.

Stepping left and right, Sakura juts her pelvic side to side to create some form of belly dancing while her hands feel her body sensually, at last leading them to course through hair in an attempt to look sexier.

With all that effort she really feels like she is actually Misty Jade, the persona she is supposed to be impersonating. The pink haired ninja puts her hands on her hips and poses seductively. She looks around and spots her target right away.

Time to put on a show, she thinks bitterly and lifts her hands in air to grab the pole behind her. She pushes her butt against the pole and leans back in an effort to look like she is trapped and the pole is like a man who is holding her captive in a stimulating pose.

A happy yell confirms her move had the desired effect both on the crowd and the target as well.

But as she feels that familiar hot stare on her, she also knows how she fucked up big time. It seems her move had another effect as well. The making Uchiha very angry, hot, and bothered effect.

When she looks in his direction, Sakura regrets it immediately. Even though he is at the back of the club, she would recognize him right away no matter how far he is or what clothes he wears. She does not like the expression on his face one bit.

The moment she had turned around after being introduced she had felt his chakra spike up. It intrigued her how she had that effect on him when she knows for a fact the man is super calm and collected. Sakura will not lie to herself and pretend like she did not take great enjoyment from the fact that he reacted like that to her.

But, but, but.

He is very angry with her right now and it is apparent.

Sakura closes her eyes and pretends everything is fine. She knows the other members of Team 7, who look a lot more at peace than he is, will handle him if he gets too upset.

She decides it is time for some impressive tricks that will need her to use some core strength. She makes a quick spin with her hips sticking out and she starts to circle the pole and like it is a prey and she is ready to pounce. Her left hand reaches up and grabs the top of the metallic bar while she puts all her strength in her right hand which grabs the lower part near the base. Then, her left leg comes forward and almost warps around the pole.

Sakura closes her eyes as her right leg pushes her forward and the rest of her body gets send upwards. The beautiful woman feels her hair falling down to her face obscuring it from view for a few agonizing seconds as she stays upside down. With both legs secured on the poll she begins her ascend upwards trying to match her movements with the beat of the song to gain some momentum.

After climbing on top of the pole, Sakura starts spinning around using her hands as leverage. Putting her body in a fetal position, she locks her thighs together and descends towards the ground with her hands upwards pretending like she is falling down from the pole.

In flash, she squeezes her thighs together in an attempt to stop her body from falling down. Right before she reaches the base of the stage, her impeding fall halts.

With her body now close to the ground, she loosens and throws herself in compromising position on the floor. Her palms are flat on the stage, her chest squished together between concrete and her body. Her ass is high up in the air and she slowly goes forward like she is cat crawling her way towards the front row.

In the meantime the crowd has completely lost it. It takes athletic skills to do that and everyone is impressed.

Halfway through the song now with the performance reaching its peak, Sakura decides to pull out the big guns. In order to gain the attention of the target specifically, she will need to find a way to get him to focus on her. Even though he found her skills highly admirable, to him, she was just another girl pole dancing. That is why she has to act interested in him first.

Right now, Misao Takashi is smoking a cigarette like there is no care in the world and he is looking down at some papers.

Way to be inconspicuous, Sakura thought, dropping into a split right at the edge of the stage.

On the other side of the club, right at the back, Naruto is about to cry. He is so confused at the moment, it is not even funny. On one hand, he is really shocked by Sakura and the unknown skills she is displaying, however, he finds himself inwardly cringing because while she is very good at it, he sees her as a very dear friend to him. While he wants to hype her up because she is very impressive, he also wants to go up there and drag her far away from the leeching crowd and hide her from the world with a really big blanket.

On the other hand, he is very scared, because Sasuke Uchiha is about to have the biggest bitch fit of the year right next to him.

The blond man looks at his teacher for comfort only to find him staring him back with a desperate expression on his face which means he is also having a similar thought process. This leads to them having a battle of wills, holding intense eye contact, until one of them crumbles and has to be the one to take care of the green eyed monster that is Sasuke Uchiha.

"Both." Naruto silently mouths, pleading, not wanting to deal with this alone.

Kakashi clears his throat, taking the first step.

"Well, Sasuke, it looks like we won't be needed here," He says in a casual tone, although his voice cracks during the dialogue due to the fact the situation is awkward.

He feels uncomfortable, but he continues on speaking, "The Anbu specialist," he raises his tone slightly at this as if to reprimand him, "is doing a pretty good job on her own."

He folds his hands on top of his crossed knees after finishing his statement.

"I said help, not kill us," Naruto sweat drops and half whispers more to himself than anybody else.

They both hear Sasuke silently growl at this.

Naruto gulps down his saliva loudly and begins, "Look Sasuke, I know this looks bad," he pauses checking for a reaction. Seeing his friend only slightly pissed, he continues, "But, you have to look at the positive side!"

The black haired man looks at his best friend for a split second, his eyes glinting in the dark and says, "And that is?", he questions angrily.

"It is th-the fact that Sakura-chan is strong and she can handle herself!", he tries to explain lamely, "right Kakashi-sensei?"

"Of course, yes." Kakashi agrees quickly.

Sasuke sticks his tongue inside his cheek, pushing it outwards, trying to remain calm.

He wants to curse them, throw water at them or maybe punch them both in the throat, but he will not do it because Sakura would not want that.

His attention diverts back to her dancing on the stage.

"Tsk," he lets out a familiar annoyed sound.

Right at that moment, she decides it is the perfect time to do a split on the floor.

Sasuke feels a vein popping on his forehead while the other two screech like school girls next to him.

He watches as Sakura takes another route to her seduction game and she starts to rely on more sexual tactics. The last Uchiha observes as she starts to sensually rub her back against the pole, her knees slightly bend forward, in an almost squat.

Her right hand goes to her mouth, and she darts her tongue out as if to lick her long manicured fingers while she stares hotly at her target with hooded eyes. In the meantime, her free hand dangles teasingly in front of her torso and begins its descend down towards her pelvic area. Her green nails a stark contrast to her daring burgundy lingerie.

Sasuke almost wants to activate his sharingan just so he could commit that image to his memory forever. He has never felt more jealous and needy than in that moment.

Despite all this unfolding before his eyes, he know this is just a mission, but he cannot help the emotions he is feeling.

The song is about to end, but he knows the torture will not end here. It will continue when she shows up again to lure her target away.

He cannot help but stare as she strikes a pose around the pole; her legs crossed around it and her body circled around the rod like snake hanging from a tree. Her arms are stretched out evenly and her voluminous hair hangs from one side.

Sakura looks amazing, her abs straining against her skin and her muscles showing in all the right places. His imagination of her naked body did not do the real thing justice; so much beauty on that tiny body of hers.

Sasuke heaves a sigh of relief just as the songs ends and the crowd cheers like never before.

"Finally," Kakashi whispers, coursing his hand through his hair.

Naruto plops down on the armchair loudly after hanging on the edge of it for so long.

It feels like a relief for all of them, but they know it is far from over. The lights of the stage close and Sakura disappears in the darkness. Their trained ears hear her heels clanking away despite the buzz she left behind. Everyone is complimenting her and the target looks very interested in her, as his eyes keep searching for her ever since the lights have opened again.

"Op, there it is, it worked, he is into her," Kakashi comments. The red haired male just signaled at a bartender - possibly asking for her company.

"Of course he liked her," Naruto shouts and stretches his hands out in exasperation, "oh my god she looked amazing, I can't believe I just witnessed that," the blond continues to mumble incoherently about their female teammate.

"Did you see that?", The tailed beast owner exclaims loudly, hands coming at top of his head in silent plea for salvation. From the corner of his blue eye, he anticipates his friend's reaction.

"I did," Sasuke responds, "fuck, I know, I did, okay," he says, his voice raising an octave.

He knows the other did it on purpose to gauge a reaction out of him, but he cannot keep hiding from them anymore. It is obvious they both know how he feels about her; except for Sakura of course.

"Op, there it is again," Kakashi jokes this time, his mask hiding his grin. He takes great pleasure in watching his greatest student fall apart in front of him.

"You are both enjoying this, aren't you?", Sasuke asks a question he knows the answer to. He is grimacing, trying to wallow in self pity alone.

"Of course we are," Naruto answers proudly,"have you seen your face?", he wriggles his eyebrows and points an accusing finger at Sasuke's face.

"I hate you both," He says detestably, "Leave me alone."

Before any more banter could continue however, they notice Sakura walking out of the changing rooms in a nice long dress with a slit on the side. It is light pink in color, almost transparent, and it has fuchsia fur on its collar. She is strutting towards the red haired man in very determined steps, getting his attention right away. The pink haired girl sits next to the target and strikes conversation. They watch the scene play out like movie, their eyes and ears alert and attune to everything those two do. Whenever he or she moves, their attention is solely on them - like a hawk which is watching its prey.

Sasuke focuses on Sakura, his eyes calculating every move she makes. He watches as the civilian says something probably funny to her and she laughs heartily, one hand covering her mouth. The woman cocks her head to her right cutely and she blinks her pretty eyes at him while her other hand which is not covering her mouth works in other dirtier ways.

Touch is very important in order to seduce any man. She pats his knee in an attempt to hold her laughter in. To any other person it looks like she is enjoying his company and she is comfortable with him.

But, Sasuke knows, this is her way of making him fall right into her beautifully crafted trap. Her subtle flirting looks like it is working because they both decide to get up at that moment. He does not have a clue what she could have possibly said to him, but the foolish guy grabs her extended hand and follows her to the back rooms.

"She is going in for the kill," Kakashi speaks suddenly, "we better stay alert now in case something bad happens."

It seems he is not the only one interested in how things play out.

The black haired man feels the temperature of the room skyrocket to new heights and he decides it is high time he took off his jacket. In one swift movement the annoying garment is off him and he undoes one more button of his blouse which is straining against his chest.

"Ugh I don't like this at all," Naruto whines and chooses to look anywhere else to divert his attention from Sakura.

Sasuke sits up straighter on his chair, finishes his drink in one shot and puts the empty glass on the nearby table. He feels his throat burning from the sudden consumption of the strong alcoholic beverage. The Uchiha welcomes the pain and cracks his neck to the side.

Kakashi raises an eyebrow at this and he inches his body closer to the outer part of his armchair as if he is ready to get up at any given moment. Naruto quickly catches on and puts his hand on top of Sasuke's bicep.

He grabs the flimsy material of his white shirt, but rearranges his hand in flash in order to grip Sasuke better.

"No," Naruto warns.

The blond's palm discreetly emits some chakra, trying to cool down the raging Uchiha.

Sasuke turns to look at them, his mismatched eyes cold and detached. They see his rinnegan flash in the dark despite being hidden by his fringe.

The brooding male shakes his head slightly and looks down. "I am only going to make things faster," he tries to reason with them.

"Sasuke, no," Kakashi tries to explain calmly. They must not alert anyone in here with their status or their cover will be blown. "We are the back-up, remember?"

"My abilities are more useful than Sakura's right now." Sasuke continues as if he did not hear them, "One look from me and it's over. Tsunade should have thought this through better."

"Sakura-chan can do this, bastard," Naruto speaks in a serious tone and continues, "Don't ruin this for her."

Sasuke stays still for a few seconds, his immobile form having both men on edge.

Before any of them could react fast enough though, they feel Sasuke's chakra flare and they see him disappear in a flash right in front of their eyes. In his place there is a broken bottle of vodka on the armchair.

"Fuck," Naruto curses and Kakashi lets out an indignant sound.

They avert their eyes from the bottle and look towards the changing rooms near the bar. Sasuke smirks, the purple stardust of his eye power blending in with the lights. He bends his head down and steps inside the dark entrance into the hallway behind him.

From their periphery they have no idea what it is going on in there anymore.

Naruto lifts his hands up in the air and says, "I give up."

"I have to admit these events unfolding before me have a more interesting plot than the Icha-Icha Paradise books," Kakashi shrugs his shoulders.

Both of them let out long sighs and fall back into their armchairs.

Meanwhile inside the changing rooms, Sakura has led her target in the quiet corner of her room. She has him pinned against the wall, kunai against his throat, her chakra infused fist holding him captive by his shirt.

"Tell me everything I need to know if you want to live to see another day," she spits out, her glare a complete one eighty compared to the sweet eyes she was batting at him earlier.

"I-I- Who are you lady?" The man trembles in her grip, her threat working.

Sakura pushes him harder against the wall to make him hurt.

"Quit stalling," She keeps the kunai on his throat as her other hand searches his pockets for the key and the papers. "What information do have?" The kunoichi in disguise asks and feels the cold metal of the keys at the tips of her fingers.

Just when she was about to get the juicy info out of him, Sakura feels Sasuke's strong chakra presence behind her.

"You heard her," his velvety baritone voice comes through as he flash steps behind them, both of his eye prowess glinting dangerously in the dark.

The man in question is sweating profusely now as he is faced with two scary looking ninja who look to be very powerful. He knows if he spills out the information the feud lords will come for his ass, but right now as he feels the tip of the kunai on his throat and looks at the threatening eyes of the man next to his beholder, he knows he is dead either way.

"I will tell you everything," He pleads, "don't kill me!"

The red haired man's knees buckle beneath him and he falls down to the ground with a thud. Sakura lets him fall, huffs and stands back.

As she crosses her arms in front of her chest, Sasuke bends down to be at eye level with the target and activates his sharingan, tomoes spinning lazily.

"I could do this on my own, you know," Sakura says annoyed. She is pursing her lips, her eyes going to slits.

"I know," Sasuke admits and stands up. The man on the floor is under a genjutsu, spilling all the information they need.

Sasuke's sharingan still activated records everything the man says that is useful to them. Sakura dangles the keys and puts them inside her pouch. With the man passed out on the floor, Sasuke and Sakura hold eye contact for a few minutes, both silent.

"How did you get in here without me noticing?" She breaks the silence first, taking a few steps closer to the black haired shinobi.

"I concealed my chakra well," Sasuke says laconically, glad for his nimble fingers because he locked the door silently as well.

Sakura hates the way he is so aloof about this as if he did not interrupt her own mission. She is so pissed off right now, the woman can barely hold her wits together. The kunoichi feels herself popping off the moment Sasuke decides to turn his back on her.

"I am not a weak little girl anymore," She spits out fiercely, trying to keep her tone down, "I don't need you going all macho on me!"

Her dress flutters around when she moves suddenly and starts pacing around the room. Sasuke looks at her from the corner of his eye, his visual power no longer activated.

He pretends to ignore her anger and stays mute instead. Unfortunately for her, Sasuke could not help himself and stay put. His jealousy pushed him to go in here with her because the thought of another man even possibly touching her sent him reeling.

Sasuke is glad nothing more had to happen, but god, he is such a coward still and he will not admit to her right now why he did it. He knows she is strong, but her being alone with somebody else, anybody else who is not him...It is eating him away from the inside.

Sakura is furious right now, but she also knows she cannot make a scene in here because someone could come in without warning and start asking questions. They have a man passed out on the floor who is going to arise some suspicions.

Analyzing the situation, she needs to think fast and act later.

Putting her hands on her hips and giving him the angriest bitch face she could master, Sakura barks out her order.

"Go inform the guys the mission is accomplished and we leave tomorrow at dawn," she looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to try and defy her.

When she gets nothing but silence in response, she continues.

"Meet me outside across the street in twenty minutes," Sakura finishes her statement with a dismissive tone.

The pink haired medic raises her eyebrow at him, waiting for him to react.

Sasuke makes his usual humming noise in agreement, his lips slightly pursed. With a curt nod he leaves the room quickly, not once looking behind.

With the door now closed, Sakura lets out a silent growl. In her frustration she takes off one of her high heels and throws it across the room, her target where Sasuke was standing a few seconds ago. Disappointed that she did not hit his imaginary head, she tosses the other one too for a good measure.

Feeling accomplished, she gathers her stuff including the important papers and the keys and she changes to the civilian clothes she had brought with her. Seeing Misao Takashi slightly stirring, she takes that as her cue to leave. With one last look at him, confident that he will not have the guts to speak to anyone about this, she exits the room.

When the red haired male wakes up a few minutes later, he stands up groggily and looks around the room only to find it empty. Checking his pockets and realizing everything is missing, he recalls the events from before. That is when he takes a look at the mirror across him and he notices the gorgeous girl from before has left him a message.

A smiley face drawn with red lipstick is staring back at him.

He snorts and lets out a sad smile.

Twenty minutes later as promised everybody is out of the club with only Sakura still missing. Ever since Sasuke came back with the news no one has exchanged words besides Kakashi and Naruto who keep talking to each other.

The last Uchiha has been oddly quiet even for his standards. He keeps his face mostly hidden in the shadows of the night, his back against a nearby wall. Kakashi and Naruto are a few meters next to him throwing worried glances at him, fearing one word from them would set him off the wrong way.

The moment Sakura appears, it seems the gears in Sasuke's head have finished turning and he stands up straight ready to take off. The awkwardness in Team seven is palpable.

No one dares to look their female teammate in the eye, even Kakashi who is older than them. They do not speak to each other either. Instead, the male members of the group start following Sakura who is probably leading them to the hotel she has been staying. Sakura looks calm, but everybody seems to know that they should not try to cross her or strike a conversation with her.

Naruto who is usually lively and talkative feels like he is living his worst nightmare. He exchanges a few glances with Kakashi who keeps putting his finger in his mouth as if to signal the blond to keep quiet. Things are so awkward between the medic and the sharingan user that Naruto feels like a literal child confined between his two stubborn and angry grown up parents. Fuck being a third wheel to a conceited flirting Uchiha and a shy Haruno, this is so much worse.

Only when they finally reach the hotel and they forced to say their good nights, the Team manages to acknowledge and speak to each other. Of course it is typical conversation before you go to bed, so nothing weird here. Albeit, it was so disturbing to see Sakura faking a smile nowadays that Naruto wanted to bash Sasuke's head to the nearest wall for making this mission more awkward than it had to be. Thinking better than to try and talk to Sasuke about the situation right now, Naruto heads solemnly to his room.

Kakashi on other hand feels like those two are grown up adults and he should not have to interfere with their feelings. They have to work on their miscommunications on their own, especially Sasuke and his incapability to express his feelings.

With each person having their own thoughts in their heads, the members of Team 7 all go into their rooms respectively.

The moment Sakura steps inside the room, she starts to feel her tear ducts watering. Taking a deep breath in order to calm down, she starts pacing around the room while fanning her eyes.

In these kind of situations it always helps to think of something else to prevent her from crying, so she thinks about Ino and her holy grail set of girl rules.

"Never cry when you have expensive make up on," Sakura tries to pep talk herself.

Although she knows she will have to take it off eventually, she tries to hang on the smallest reason to stop herself from tearing up. If she slips up and allows herself to get sad, the woman knows it will be impossible to stop.

Sakura does have a tendency to get emotional despite being strong. Being apathetic is not one of her strongest assets, regrettably. In comparison to the man she is in love with, the pink haired beauty is quite the opposite of him when it comes to matters like these.

Thinking a good bath will clean her head (and her body), she steps inside the bathroom. Half an hour later, she comes out of it clean and fresh wearing her skimpy black pajama shorts and a white t-shirt. Knowing no one will come and bother her anymore tonight she skips putting on her bra.

Feeling rejuvenated and ready to go to sleep, Sakura starts making a beeline for her bed. She will figure out tomorrow what to do about her strained relationship with Sasuke.

Right just about that thought crossed her mind, she hears knocking on her door.

"No," the woman whispers, her eyes widening in horror.

There is no way Sasuke is behind that door, knocking it and expecting her to open up.

With two powerful stomps and a determined expression on her face, Sakura reaches for the doorknob and pulls.

#sasusaku #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #sasusaku fanfiction #ssfic #ssfanfic #ssfanfiction #vasoula writes #sasusaku fanfic #please enjoy everybodyyy #things get sexaaay

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 21

Two Weeks

Summary: Everyone prepares for the approaching Social Season

Word Count: ~4.2k

A/N: i felt especially evil writing Drake’s part, so i hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: none

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @loudbluebirdlover @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @queenjilian @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @missevabean @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen​ @pink-diamond13​

I’m sorry, the tags are being weird and I don’t know if they’re working or not… but I hope I got everyone down! If I missed someone, or anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know :)

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- Maxwell - 

The baby blossoms were improving in their lessons perfectly, and no one was prouder than Liam. Him and Maxwell would sit with the children through lessons, making sure they understood the basics. True, they couldn’t teach the children everything in two weeks, but they needed to know how to act like royalty for the Social Season.  

Maxwell had asked Liam how his dinner with Riley went. The man was ecstatic to say that she was giving him a chance. Maxwell was happy for his friend, but hoped that neither of them would do anything to mess it up. 

Maxwell tired to come up with ways that Riley and Liam could spend time with each other, but whenever the baby blossoms came into their view, they began to worry about the court voicing their opinions about the children. 

Riley and Rowan tried to help the children in terms of memorizing etiquette. By the end of the week, both children knew enough to pass by as royalty. Liam voiced his relief that the children wouldn’t be in the spotlight too much, considering the fact that they weren’t expected to participate in certain events. 

Maxwell had tried to spend more time with Rowan, but the woman was also stressed about what she was going to do in front of the nobility. Even though she followed along in the baby blossoms’ lessons, she pointed out that expectations would be different for a grown woman compared to two small children. 

And even after dinner, when he tried to sneak a moment alone with her, Bertrand would always find him lurking in a corner and would reprimand Maxwell.

After Maxwell and Bartie walked the baby blossoms through what was expected of them behavior-wise, and after Hana taught them some traditional dances, Olivia declared that it was time to teach them self defense.

“Is that... necessary?” Hana asks. 

“With the previous attack on the palace,” Olivia begins. “It would be better for them to know something rather than nothing.” 

“Is the situation truly so serious?” Hana turns to Liam. 

His eyebrows furrow. “Truth be told, I don’t know. The investigations are still ongoing, but so far they’ve found nothing.”

“Don’t you think people may avoid participating in the season out of fear?” Hana continues to ask.

“Perhaps, but I’ve increased security to ensure the safety of the guests.” 

“And thus another reason why the King’s Guard cannot teach them,” Olivia starts up again, referring to the children. “They must protect the palace grounds and continue their investigation. Whoever those thieves are, they better not get away.” 

Liam’s phone rings, and he leaves the room. Hana says she’ll go check on Riley, and so Maxwell, Rowan, and Olivia are left with the children.

“So.” Olivia turns to them. “Answer me this. An intruder has broken into your home in the middle of the night. You open your door to see that they are coming towards you with a knife. What do you do?” 

“Hide!” Ella claims. 

“False.” Olivia states. 

“Um... run away?” Gabriel tries.

“Wrong again. Cowardice is never the answer,” Olivia tells them. 

“So... are we supposed to... fight back?” Gabriel asks. 

“But we’re just kids,” Ella argues. 

Rowan leans towards Maxwell and whispers, “She’s got a point. Maybe they shouldn’t be learning about this.” 

“You can use that to your advantage,” Olivia states. “There’s a chance the intruder wouldn’t hurt a child, so you will take their moment of hesitation to attack.” 

“Attack?” Gabe’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks, and Maxwell can’t help but notice how similar the action is to what Liam does. “So we can... hit them with a baseball bat?” 

“Or kick something at them? Ou! Can we just kick them?” Ella adds. 

“Precisely!” Olivia smiles at the children. “Though it would be better to get the job done with a sharp object.”

“Like a knife?” Gabriel questions. 

“Yes, and today I will be teaching you both how to effectively use a knife to defend yourselves.” 

“Mama said I’m not allowed to use knives anymore,” Eleanor tells the group.

“And why is that?” Olivia puts her hands on her hips.

“Because of what happened last Thanksgiving.” 

“And what transpired on the last giving of thanks?” 

“I chased Gabe with the knife we were supposed to use to cut the turkey.”

A smile plasters over Olivia’s face. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” 

A flash of childish fear crosses Gabriel’s face, and Rowan pats him on the shoulder.

“Now,” Olivia begins. From different spots in her dress, she removes a series of extremely sharp knives. “Pick one to use.” 

“Uh, no,” Rowan interjects. “We won’t be doing that. These are literal children, Lady Olivia.” 

Olivia rolls her eyes. “Fine. I brought wooden knives, too, but they’re in my room.” She retreats to go get them. 

Maxwell leans into the group, making them all huddle together. “You know what we should do, baby blossoms?” The children shake their heads. “Follow me.” 

Maxwell leads them behind the staircase towards the wall of weapons. 

“Wow,” Rowan exclaims. “Exactly why does your family have this?” She holds in a laugh.

“Are these the knives Duchess Olivia wants us to use?” Gabriel asks. 

“No,” Maxwell answers him. “But wouldn’t it be fun to use them?” 

The children look towards Rowan, and she laughs. “We can hold them, but no swinging them around, okay?” 

“Okay!” Ella exclaims, reaching for the double sided sword. It’s a little heavy for her, but she manages to hold it up. 

Rowan grabs the dagger, and Gabriel settles for the sword.

Maxwell lifts the flail from the wall, and before he can say anything else, he turns to see Eleanor leading everyone back to the ballroom. 

Once they’re inside, they wait for Olivia, but something catches Maxwell’s eye. 

“You okay?” Rowan asks. 

“Look!” Maxwell walks towards a table, where a phone pokes out from under a handkerchief. “It’s Drake’s phone.” 

“Should we give it back to him?” Gabriel asks. 

Maxwell sighs, and regards the phone in his hands. “Probably.” He looks towards Rowan and the baby blossoms, a mischievous look in his eyes. “But first...”

Before he can finish the sentence, Rowan starts giggling. Through the laugh she manages, “If you say, ‘Let me take a selfie,’ I’m taking the weapons away.” 

Maxwell pouts at her. “Fine, I won’t say it, but can we take at least one?” 

He can tell that the situation is amusing to her, but Rowan glances at the children and agrees.

They all pose, and Maxwell takes the picture. Rowan takes the phone and puts it back where they found it from, while Maxwell takes everyone’s weapons and goes to put it back on the wall. 

When he comes back, the baby blossoms each have a wooden sword in their hands. Maxwell notices that they look very similar to the wooden sword Olivia had when she was a child. 

“—Since these are now yours’, you can name them whatever you want.” Maxwell hears her tell them. 

“So...” Eleanor closely regards her sword. “If I name it ‘Gabe’... does that mean I can do this?” She turns to hit her brother’s shoulder with the sword repeatedly, and chants, “Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!”

Gabriel protests, and tries to back away from her, but Eleanor follows him, giggling. 

“Stop! Wait! Give me a second!” The boy protests.

“Get it together, Gabriel!” Olivia calls to him from the sidelines. “You’re losing!”

“Yay!” Eleanor screams. 

“Watch your footing!” Olivia directs. “Widen your stance!” 

Soon, both of the baby blossoms are hitting each other’s wooden swords. They use all of their energy, until Gabriel finally backs away in a coughing fit.

Liam rushes in, having finished his phone call. He goes to Gabriel’s side and tells him to sit down. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” the boy states. 

“Alright.” Liam sighs. “I wanted to make sure.”

“Are you here to get a wooden sword, too?” Eleanor asks him. 

Liam chuckles, looking down at her and ruffling the girl’s hair. “No.” His smile falters as he continues, “I came to say goodbye. I have to return to the palace for a few days, but will be back soon.” 

“Aww,” Eleanor whines. She hugs Liam’s waist, and he kneels down to wrap her in his arms. He does the same to Gabriel, who, to Maxwell’s shock and relief, hugs his father back. 

Liam nods at Olivia, Maxwell, and Rowan on his way out. 

After he’s out of sight, Olivia turns back to the children. “Alright, where were we?” 

- Drake - 

Though he was turned away from her, Drake heard Jessica get out of bed. Her phone had vibrated from under her pillow, and she grabbed it and left the room. 

Jessica had asked Drake to return to his cabin for at least one evening, since she wanted to spend time with him away from the rest of his friends. He assumed that Jessica didn’t like his friends’ company, and that upset him. But there was barely a week left until the Social Season; he didn’t want her to be anxious about having to be in the presence of the nobility, so he was willing to spend time alone with Jessica to make her feel more at ease.

He gets out of bed and combs through a small pile of his and Jessica’s clothes that they had thrown to the side. Drake puts her dress on the edge of the bed and grabs his pants. His heartbeat quickens for a moment as he feels the pockets for the ring box. Looking over his shoulder towards the door, he saw Jessica texting away with a blanket draped over her. Drake opens the ring box, and eyes his grandmother’s ring, then turns again to Jessica. 

Not the time, he thinks to himself, putting it back into his pants pocket. 

After he finishes putting on the rest of his clothes, he goes into the kitchen to get himself something to eat. He’s about to ask Jessica who she’s texting, but before he can get near her, she bolts up and says she’s going to go use the bathroom. 

He looks through the fridge and some cabinets. Finding nothing, he decides it wouldn’t be so bad if they went out to eat. 

Drake hears the door to the bathroom open, and Jessica reappears wearing one of his shirts and a small pair of shorts with her hair tied up. He wonders where she got them from, but remembers that some of her clothes were still in his house. 

She gives him a peck on the cheek and goes to open the fridge. 

“What do you think about going out to eat?” he asks her. “Haven’t done the groceries in a while.” 

“Go out?” she starts. Jessica pouts, and Drake feels sorry for upsetting her. “But I look a mess!”  

He smiles and shakes his head. She would never understand her own beauty. No matter what she wore or what she did, she looked perfectly put together. He took a moment to look at her in awe, allowing her image to bless his eyes: her skin was soft and clear, even though she had been sweaty moments before. Her hair looked effortlessly elegant. She could throw on some jeans and would be better put together than half of the women Drake had dated.

“What if we go eat with Papa?” Jessica suggests, referring to her father. “He’s been wanting to see you for a while.” 

“Sure,” Drake says. Jessica leaves the room to go get ready. He had met Jessica’s father a few times, and the man reminded Drake of his own father. As snarky as Jackson Walker, and just as supportive of his children. Out of respect he always referred to Jessica’s father as Mr. Ariti. Drake enjoyed the man’s company, and was always pleased to hear from Jessica that her father enjoyed spending time with him as well. 

Drake walks towards the bathroom, wanting to freshen himself up. He hears the shower running and finds the door locked. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he scrolls through his phone while waiting for her. He finds an image of Maxwell posing with Rowan, Gabriel, and Eleanor, each of them holding a medieval weapon. Drake wonders how they got into his phone. 

He continues to scroll and eventually finds a picture he took of Jessica when they went camping together a few years ago. The light from the fire had make her dark skin look like glass, and he had wanted to capture the moment of her raw beauty. She was looking away from the camera, towards the sky. Drake usually felt comfortable in her presence, ever since the day he first met her. There was nothing complicated about this woman; her emotions were always in check and there was rarely anything that troubled her. Even when she was dealing with family issues and her father’s declining health, Drake had never seen her cry. He believed there was a sense of power in that: she knew which topics were deserving of her tears and which weren’t, and even the things that irritated her she solved effortlessly.

But lately the two of them seemed more out of sync than not. Even tonight Drake felt that he wasn’t near her, even though she was always close enough to touch. He thinks that they may just be having one of those days, and tries to forget about it. 

She comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her phone tightly clasped in her hand. Jessica doesn’t look at Drake, and begins going through drawers to find something to wear. 

He takes a quick shower, and wears his usual denim outfit before Jessica is ready. He waits for her for a few more minutes, until finally she comes out of the room and they leave. 

They take her Jeep. She brought them to a large apartment building in the capital. They park, and the doorman greets them by name, then quickly rings a phone call up to Mr. Ariti to tell him that his daughter was here to visit him. 

The elevator door opens at the twelfth floor, and Jessica leads him down a small hallway. After they knock, Mr. Ariti’s nurse opens the door and greets Jessica with a kiss on the cheek.

The women move aside for Drake, and he smells something cooking from the kitchen. Mr. Ariti’s dog, a rottweiler named Elsa, runs at Drake to greet him.

Mr. Ariti’s apartment was small and luxuriously decorated. He had told Drake that it was Jessica and her mother who had the stylish inclinations, but looking around the room at the decorative sculptures and oil paintings, he couldn’t tell what type of person had decorated the room. Drake felt slightly out of place here, but he enjoyed Mr. Ariti’s company.

Mr. Ariti sits on the couch in the living room, and when he sees Drake, he uses all his strength to stand and greet him. Drake rushes forward, helping Mr. Ariti balance himself. The old man gives him a pat on the back, and they sit down. 

Jessica sits next to Drake, and she entertains them by telling both men about a trip she had come back from a few weeks ago. “Oh, I’ve yet to tell you about this trip, darling,” she tells Drake. It was another trip to a Greek island. She took one about every two months, and it was a different island every time. 

Before she can continue, Mr. Ariti’s nurse comes up to tell him that the doorman is on the intercom in the kitchen. Mr. Ariti has a difficult time standing up, so Drake offers him his arm and follows the nurse into the kitchen. 

Once they stand next to the intercom, Drake hears the doorman say, “Mr. Ariti? Yes... he’s here again.”

“He? Who’s he?” the old man asks. 

The nurse speaks up and tells him, “You know who he’s talking about, Mr. Ariti, the...” She eyes Drake. “The businessman.”

“Sir,” the doorman speaks from the intercom again. “He says he wishes to come up.” 

“No,” Mr. Ariti says. “I don’t care, don’t let him up. Keep him downstairs.” 

“Yes, sir,” the doorman says from the intercom. 

Mr. Ariti turns back to Drake, and he begins leading the old man to the dining table where the nurse had started putting dinner. 

“Everything alright?” Drake asks him. 

“Yes, yes.” The old man waves at him dismissively. “Just some fool who won’t leave us alone.”

Suddenly Jessica opens the door, claiming that she was going to take Elsa for a walk around the block.

A frost of displeasure crosses Mr. Ariti’s face. They hear the door click shut as she leads the dog out of the apartment, and Mr. Ariti asks Drake to sit down.

They begin to eat, and Drake respectfully listens to Mr. Ariti talk about his day, the situation that arose with one of his neighbors, and something his doctor told him. When they’re done with their meal and laughing with one another, Jessica finally reappears. She takes a seat next to Drake and serves herself some cold pasta. 

The men continue to talk while Jessica eats. She laughs along to her father’s jokes, and then when she finishes, turns to Drake. 

“Darling, I meant to tell you,” she begins. “I won’t be able to make it to the Masquerade Ball.” 

“You changed your mind about the Social Season?” Drake asks, slightly relieved. 

“No, silly.” She giggles. “Something’s come up. If I were to attend, I would have to leave early, so it’s best not to attend at all. Oh, don’t look at me like that, darling.” She laces Drake’s fingers through her own. “Didn’t you tell me that Countess Hana said her husband will be making a late appearance as well? Well mine won’t be quite as late.” She leans forward to kiss Drake’s cheek. “I’m participating in the season because I want to support you, darling. I know how you dislike the nobility’s company, so I know how much a friendly face will mean to you.” 

Drake leans towards her to kiss her, and Jessica turns back to her meal. 

After she finishes eating, Mr. Ariti says that the two of them better get home before it becomes to late, and he makes Drake promise to visit again soon. 

While Jessica and Drake ride the elevator down to the lobby, Jessica speaks up: “Papa looked upset today, don’t you think?” 

Drake agrees, and suggests that the man was probably tired. 

“You know what I think we should do, darling?” 

He turns to look at her, wondering what she was thinking of.

Finally, Jessica turns to look at him. “Marry.” 

Drake’s heart stops for a moment. Did she just propose? Wasn’t I thinking about doing that just hours before? What had stopped me from doing it then? And why’s she asking this now?

“Sh- should we?” he asks, utterly confused as to what was happening. 

“Yes, please! I think it would make Papa so happy.” 

She grabs his hand and leads him out of the elevator and towards her car. Drake feels as if he’s never felt so baffled in his life. Jessica turns on the radio, and Drake can’t hear himself think through the music. He can still feel his grandmother’s ring in his pocket. Should I give it to her now? He hears Jessica humming along to the music, and Drake doesn’t know what to do. 

She drops him off in front of his cabin, and says she'll go home to her own apartment since she has some things to settle in the morning. She leans over to kiss him goodbye. 

In a haze, Drake walks into his house and towards his bed and falls onto it, wondering what had just happened, and what that meant since his feelings for Jessica were still uncertain.

- Savannah - 

The Social Season was fast approaching, and the day of Liam’s press conference — the one where he would introduce Gabriel to the people — had arrived before anyone realized it. 

Liam and Gabriel had left for the capital early in the morning. Gabriel’s things were packed, and Liam assured Riley that he would help the boy get settled. When Riley had said that Eleanor could not go with, both children were upset, and Eleanor was still anxious hours later.

Everyone’s things were packed as well. Riley’s doctor would return tonight to take off her cast, so they would leave early in the morning for the Masquerade Ball, but they were all currently sitting in front of the TV to watch the press conference. They each sat on a couch, huddled around the TV. Drake was the only one that stood at the edge of the room. Savannah motions for him to come sit next to her, but Drake shakes his head. She wonders what happened to her brother, and guesses it may have something to do with the visit he gave Jessica last week.

Throughout the past two weeks, there were more cases of stolen art around Europe, specifically in France and Austria. Museums all throughout the continent shut down in fear of more incidents, and some nobles expressed their worries to King Liam. More and more news articles surfaced, asking if the King was going to let priceless works of Cordonian artists be stolen, and not fight for them back?

And so the topic of the press conference changed. Liam told Riley and the rest of them that he would be introducing Gabriel to the people, but he would also try to answer their questions and concerns about the stolen art. 

They watch the screen as Liam and Gabriel are led by guards up to a small platform in front of the palace. The crowd cheers for their monarch, and possibly for the heir as well. Both wear formal outfits, and Savannah notices that Gabriel’s shoulders are oddly tense.

As King Liam stops walking and turns to face the crowd, he smiles down at his son. Gabriel turns, and his face is slightly pale. He gives the crowd a tight smile and a nod. They continue to cheer. 

Liam walks up to the microphone and speaks: “People of Cordonia, it is my humble honor to introduce you to my son, the heir, Gabriel Liam Rys.” His voice drowns out as the crowd cheers again. The crowd continues to cheer for a few moments, but their cries of joy become a roar of people talking over one another. Cameras zoom in towards people’s faces, and they can hear questions being shouted.

“How do we know important historical artifacts are safe?” 

“Cordonia’s history goes back hundred of thousands of years! All that could be lost because you don’t know where to put your military!” 

“Get off your high horse! Our art has to do with our national pride!”

“You cared for the orchard, so care about this, too!”

“I thought you said you were going to honor our history?” 

“What kind of King lets his country’s history get lost like that?” 

“Get the Queen Mother’s goblets back!” 

“Cordonia’s history could be wiped away by some clever thieves, what the Hell are you going to do about it?!”

Guards manage to quiet the crowd, and Liam allows Ana de Luca to speak. 

“Your Majesty,” she begins. “On behalf of Cordonias everywhere, I just want to say that we are elated at the news of the heir.” Gabriel gives a wide smile. “But we need to know, what measures are being taken to make sure that Cordonia’s precious artifacts stay safe? Surely you understand the historical significance of these pieces, and the honor that comes with them?”  

“Thank you, Miss de Luca,” Liam answers. “I understand the people’s concern. Rest assured that I have the best people our country has to offer on this case. We will find the perpetrators soon, and bring them to justice. I’ve increased security in the palace, as well as in Cordonian museums. They would not dare strike again.” 

The crowd begins screaming again, and Bastien walks up to Liam and whispers in his ear. Liam walks away with Gabriel trailing slightly behind.

Maxwell turns the TV off. “Wow.”

“Didn’t know it was that serious,” Rowan states. 

“Cordonians are more worried than I expected them to be.” Hana looks around the group. 

“The Social Season should take their minds off of this,” Bertrand states, standing up. 

After a few seconds, Olivia states: “I trust Liam to handle it. They’re simply a few petty art thieves.”

“They probably fight with paint brushes.” Maxwell whispers over to Eleanor and Rowan, both of who begin to giggle. 

“This is simply a small hiccup,” Bertrand continues. “I’m sure they’ll find something. In the meantime, it would be best that we all finished getting ready. Lady Riley, your doctor should arrive within the hour. Eleanor, if you would come with me, I would like you and Bartie to review your table manners.” 

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