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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

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Suicidal Misunderstanding Part Three: SW Time Travel AU #27

Part One

Part Two

Obi Wan woke with a dry mouth and a moderate headache. A fairly typical morning these days.

He peered around his bedroom in the temple confused. Wasn’t he just with Cody? Shouldn’t he be on the Negotiator? No wait, the war was over, Cody tried to kill him, and the Negotiator was a part of the Imperial Armada, of course he wouldn’t be there. He closed his eyes, snuggling back under the covers. Before he could drift back to sleep, his sluggish mind processed that last thought.

He BOLTED upright in bed. The temple had been razed, his personal chambers scorched with particular thoroughness. Just being on Coruscant was an automatic death sentence. Faint tendrils of panic began to curl around his throat before he remembered his decision to give Spice a try. He had reasoned that he should probably find at least one pleasure in his new life, instead of focusing incessantly on what was lost.

So what if he lost a few brain cells? Good riddance.

Obi-Wan had been a bit nervous, but this had ended up being his best decision in years. His goodbye to Cody had been painful, but deeply cathartic. Spice Hallucination Anakin didn’t scream like Nightmare Anakin, and the color of his eyes was perfect. Far better final memories to cling to than reality- a reminder of the good times. Comforted, he relaxed backwards in bed, pulling his blankets back around him.

He LURCHED out of bed, covers tossed aside, movement a blur.

He was still hallucinating?!? Spice shouldn’t last in the system this long! He might’ve been uncertain about whether he was supposed to smoke or snort the substance but it was a well known fact that its exhaustive but rapid passage through the body was half what made it so addictive. If nothing else, his well-restedness and thirst indicated it had been at least six hours. He looked frantically around the room, searching for some thread of unreality to pull at.

This...was not good. Hadn’t the subconscious manifestations of his friends mentioned drugs that interacted poorly with force users last night? He had dismissed it at the time but...

He clearly was stuck in some sort of drugged fantasy combined with force-enhanced memory recall. Kriff, he had to wake up in the real world before he died of an aneurysm. Or just dehydration.

He sat on the ‘temple floor’ to meditate. This could be tricky as he couldn’t risk lowering his outer shields to reach out to reality. It would be deeply embarrassing as well as horrifying if the Emperor managed to find him and, by extension, Luke because he got stuck in a bad spice trip.

The door to his room clicked open quietly.

“Oh! You’re awake. Sorry to come in without knocking, Master. I wanted to let you sleep, but I’ve been checking on you every two hours to make sure you were still, you know, breathing. You were...pretty out of it last night and I would be a pretty bad ‘best friend in the whole galaxy’ if I let you choke on your own vomit, right?” His blue-eyed Padawan explained with a grin.

Obi-Wan just stared. Oh this- this hurt. It was easier last night, when the whole fantasy had a kind of drunken blurriness. Sleeping and waking had brought sober clarity to the dream world. He could see the bags under Anakin’s eyes as well as the sheepish slouch of his shoulders as he instinctively ducked at the door frame. It was just so real.

“Obi-Wan? Are you feeling ok? Do you still feel drunk?” Anakin asked concerned.

Obi-Wan shook his head. He hesitated, before deciding to just go along with the interaction. He didn’t want to risk his subconscious throwing a less idylic scene at him by pretending to ignore this one. And besides, last night had been, all totaled, a huge relief- an unburdening of things left unsaid. This was probably the closest thing to therapy available to him these days, he might as well take advantage.

“I’m just...processing. Not to mention dealing with some mild dehydration.” He finally answered.

“Processing, huh? So does that mean you, uh, remember last night?” Anakin asked nervously.

“I do.” Obi-Wan smiled gently. As heart-wrenching as this was, it was also adorably sweet. Maybe it was worth it to push off waking for a little while. He could get some closure, maybe even work through some of the past to see where the two of them had gone wrong. It might even be helpful for Luke! Force willing, he would probably end up training Anakin’s son someday.

(the boy wouldn’t have many masters to choose from)

If this dream world could help him figure out specifically how he had failed as a Master, then he owed it to the galaxy to see it through. Satisfied, he resolved to let the fantasy play out. At least for a few more more hours. And...he had missed what Anakin had said. Wonderful start.

“I’m very sorry, Anakin would you mind repeating that? I was still a little distracted, but I promise, I’m focused on you now.”

Anakin shuffled nervously. “It’s nothing.”

Obi-Wan tried to project reassurance without actually projecting. “Please Anakin, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I know I wasn’t the most observant or approachable Master, and I’m sorry for that. But I have always cared about your thoughts and feelings.” It was a struggle and the words caught in his throat, but the raw burn of the apology was cleansing in an almost addictive way.

Anakin flushed. “Did you mean everything you said?” he asked nervously.

“I’d...rather not talk about seeing the destruction of the temple, seeing you... Maybe later...but please, I just don’t want to focus on it while I’m sitting here, looking at you,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“That actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” Anakin responded quickly. “I mean, I do want to help you with that at some point, but I get not wanting to talk about visions, even if you should probably should. Of course if you do want to talk about that stuff, that’s more important, but since you don’t we can talk about the other stuff you mentioned. I was more referring to, you know, us, and what you said about our friendship?” his voice got progressively higher the longer he rambled.

Obi-Wan thought back. “Well some of it is a little hazy, but overall yes. I...for a very long time I’ve considered you my best friend, and its not so easy for me to let go of my affections. I miss spending time with you; there are times I turn to say something and am still shocked you’re not there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, with real words, how much I cared. I’m sorry I didn’t hug you as much as I wanted, looking back that was a nonsensical Jedi custom. It’s not in the code; it’s just an affectation of dignity. All things considered, the fact that you often snuck out to see Padme doesn’t really bother me.” He paused. “Was that everything?”

“Oh. Yeah, that pretty much covered everything.” Anakin looked embarrassed, but happy. “I wasn’t sure if you were just saying that stuff because you were drugged, or really drunk or something.”

“No, I meant what I said. I suppose it just took an altered state for me to relax enough to actually say it instead of just thinking at you and assuming you would know. I must admit, its difficult for me to maintain this emotional honesty without feeling drunk, but it’s good. This is good.”

“Ah, that’s... wow. So you weren’t drugged? Cody was concerned you seemed to off for much you actually drank.”

Obi-Wan frowned. Hadn’t that been a trip? Vision blurring from desert hovel to some nameless Catina he once visited with Cody. The continuity since then was almost unsettling. But, then again, Obi-Wan always did have a remarkable talent for self-delusion, didn’t he. He waved away the concerns.

“My substance consumption was entirely deliberate and exactly what I needed. There might have been some unknown additions with some unforeseen after-affects, but like I said- I’m not drunk. I’m clear minded and in full control right now and I knowingly accept the current fallout from whatever I took. I could meditate and force purge to completely recenter, but I think it would be far wiser to just see where this goes. Do you disagree, Anakin?”

Anakin grinned widely. “Whatever you say, Obi-Wan. Just remember this is your idea. Also, I’m taking you to the healers tonight if you’re not completely back to yourself.”

Obi-Wan signed, “If I’m not back to myself in 12 hours, than I fully agree that’s a problem worthy of the halls of healing.”

“Right,” Anakin nodded decisively, “I’ll go get you some water then comm Cody to tell him you’re still alive.

Obi-Wan smiled weakly in response. This wasn’t just a hashed up memory; the responsiveness was more that. He quickly got dressed, hands lingering over soft fabrics and sand-free linens.

Anakin dropped off a cup of water; Obi-Wan sipped at it hesitantly. Dear force, this was dangerously vivid. It actually felt like a relief in his parched mouth. Clearly his subconscious was pulling out all the stops to trap him in this soft delusion. He would have to deal with the thirst and hunger until he woke up- it was probably the firmest link he had to his real body.

He took one last look around before rushing out of his room, eager to take advantage of the time.

Anakin looked nervously up from the comm when Obi-Wan started pulling his boots on. “You’re not going out in the temple like this, are you?”

“Of course! I want to visit the gardens and the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Not to mention spend some time with a few of the other Jedi. You might still be the dearest being in my heart, but there were other Jedi that I care for, and dammit I’m going to tell them that.” He finally finished lacing up his left leg and moved to the right.

Anakin was dumbstruck, presumably as burnt by the ‘dearest being’ comment as Obi-Wan was. Then he rallied, “Wow, wow, No. You are not running around the temple drugged so you can, I don’t know, give Mace Windu a hug. I thought when you said you were going to ‘deal with the fallout' from whatever the kriff you’re still on, you meant you were going to lounge around the quarters all day!”

His former padawan physically blocked the door when Obi-Wan started to leave, sounding vaguely hysterical, “You can’t run around loopy! You’re a High Council Member!”

“Not anymore,” Obi-Wan replied bitterly.

“What do you mean not anymore,” Anakin said fiercely, grabbing on to his shoulders . “Did they kick you out? Is that why you’re acting crazy? Did you resign?”

Obi-Wan responded by pulling Anakin into a hug, which was immediately returned, “Of course not, don’t be absurd. Fine, I suppose I’m technically still a high council member, it just seems like a bit of a moot point.”

“What the kark does that mean? You used to dream about being on the council! You’re the wisest Master in any of those stupid chairs!”

‘Master of the High Council’ Kenobi just sighed heavily in response. He maneuvered around the confused errant Knight and into the hall.

"Obi-Wan wait! At least eat something first! Or let me put my shoes on!”

“Very well, you have one minute to make yourself presentable. I only have a few hours before I’m going to need to get back to reality, and the longer I linger the more I fear extreme measures may be necessary.”

“What does that mean?” Anakin shouted from inside. “Extreme measures sounds really ominous, you know.”

“I’d rather not get into it, alright? Let’s just enjoy the here-and-now, eh, ad’ika?

Anakin crashed out the door with less than a second to spare. “What did you just call me?"

“Ad’ika,” Obi-Wan answered, striding down the hallway in the direction of the hanging gardens. “Surely you must have picked up some Mando’a from the troopers?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if I heard you right, bu- um- ori'vod,” Anakin fumbled out. “Uh, you’re not going to call me that in front of anyone else, right? You do remember that the council already gives us the side eye for over-attachment right?”

Obi-Wan hummed thought fully in responded. “There are far worse things a Jedi could do than admit to affection they already feel. Maybe if I had been honest about my attachments, they wouldn’t have ended the way that...” he trailed off quietly.

“The way that what,” Anakin asked frustrated. “You’re really giving me some emotional whiplash over here, and I’m starting to think that putting off dragging you to the healers is a stupid idea.

“There are far stupider things a Jedi could do,” he responded cheerily. “Oh look, there’s Plo Koon. MASTER KOON!” He shouted, startling the Kel Doran Jedi.

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” He replied slightly concerned as the two human Jedi came jogging over.

“I just wanted to say that I consider my former padawan my family. I raised him, I care for him deeply, and I don’t want to let go of those feelings.”

Plo Koon nodded seriously in response. “I feel just the same about my former padawans, and the Wolffe pack, of course. Denying my attachments isn’t, personally, a practical way to handle them. I’d rather honestly live as an imperfect Jedi than pretend to be a perfect example of the code. If I must have some imbalance, I’d rather it be an excess of compassion than a dearth,” he replied earnestly.

“I always admired that about you,” Obi-Wan replied ruefully. “This might be a little odd, but could I have a hug? I hold you in the highest regard and I’ve realized that there are so many Jedi that I never directly expressed my affection for and...”

Plo Koon didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to finish before wrapping his arms around him. “Of course, dear boy. You’ve had such heavy burdens placed on your shoulders during your life, especially in the last few years; it saddens me to see how deeply they’ve weighed you down. If there’s anything I can do to help, in any way, you simply have to ask.”

Obi-Wan sniffled slightly into Plo’s Shoulder while Plo rubbed soothing circles over his back.

A few passing Jedi gave the embracing Masters uncomfortable looks before hurrying on their way. Anakin stood slack-jawed.

When they finally pulled back, Plo Koon hesitated before finally asking, “I don’t mean to pry, but what brought all this on? I can sense much grief from you, even through your impressive shields.”

“It’s a long story,” Obi-Wan replied, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “I’d rather not get into it.”

“He’s high,” Anakin offered bluntly. “He took something last night and won’t go to medical wing.”

“Ah,” Plo said. “Is that true?”

Obi-Wan looked a little embarrassed. “I have the situation under control. My connection with reality might be...slightly altered right now, but my emotions, and what I chose to do with them are my own. I’m just, taking advantage of a unique opportunity to express myself.”

Plo Koon seemed to scrutinize him intensely, “If you’re sure this is what you need, than I support you. Just don’t do anything too foolish.” he finally offered.

Obi-Wan beamed. “I appreciate you saying so, I thought you would be supportive. Farewell, Master Koon”

Obi-Wan offered a respectful bow and then turned to walk away briskly. Before Anakin could follow, Plo rested a claw on his arm.

“Feel free to comm me if his behavior reaches a point where you think he truly needs a healer. I’m happy to help you drag him there if need be. A little cathartic release isn’t in of itself such a bad thing, but if he starts acting too out of control...”

Anakin nodded in acknowledgment, then ran off to see who else Obi-Wan had chosen to throw himself at.

Part Four

#star wars #obi-wan needs a hug #obi-wan gets a hug #star wars au no 27 #suicidal misunderstanding au #my au #time travel #hello there #@whatsup-gorls #and #@im-da-bronx #i googled what a tag list was and was a bit intimidated by the whole big multistep spreadsheet thing sorry #so i will probably not be doing a tag list for the near future #in any reliable sense #but i am very flattered you asked and am psyched you enjoy the story because i am also very excited about it #also to #@rainbowfam100 #i saw your comment and just thought oh no me too #star wars au #sw #fanfiction #i keep wanting to tag this au with angst and then i read it over and its mostly hugs so know that there WILL be angst #but i guess were not really there yet #ive already written a big chunk of angst with only 2 hugs and both of them are very angsty so i feel confident in my prediction

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mongooseblues · 3 years

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Bless You Father for I Have Sinned (Fleabag, Hot Priest) 1/1

Did anyone watch Fleabag and/or want to read about a hot priest sneezing?

This works just fine as a standalone if u haven’t seen the show but for context: Hot Irish prob alcoholic “cool swear-y” priest and recovering sex addict and all-around hot mess main character (who doesn’t have a name) strike up a “friendship” that is just a poorly veiled excuse for spending time with someone they want very badly to fuck but can’t bc priesthood vow of celibacy and whatnot.

Here’s ~2k words in which I continuously get off on the idea of blessing a priest and unresolved sexual tension I also don’t resolve.

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

“Fuck you, calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it…”

It happens for maybe ten minutes before it starts to stick out to her. Because it’s cold, as it always is on early-spring nights in London, and while they’re both fully dressed (unfortunately), neither is probably quite dressed enough to be out in a garden at this hour. And they’re a bit drunk—not that drunk, they’re both pretty practiced—on the G&Ts he’s so fond of for whatever reason. He specifically likes the kind you get already mixed in a can, which are especially shit, but it’s almost endearing that he likes those in particular. Well, very endearing actually. Goddamn this man—or… hmm, poor choice of words.

It doesn’t really grab her attention until he combines the sniffling with pinching his nostrils together.

“You alright, you’re quite sniffly?”

“I know, I dunno what’s going on,” he says, and punctuates it with a harsher sniffle than the ones previously unacknowledged, “Think ‘m just cold.” He zips his sweatshirt up a bit as if to illustrate.

“We could get you a blanket and swaddle you up like baby Jesus.”

He laughs. She extracts from her coat pocket a pack of cigarettes, takes one herself and angles the carton toward him in offering. Mostly because she wants him to scoot closer to her on the bench as she flicks the lighter for him. The flame illuminates the angles of his face in orange, the back of his fingers grazing her hand by happy accident, and yes, it’s a little pathetic that this momentary skin-to-skin contact is as erotic as it is to her, but that’s what you get when you fancy a priest isn’t it?

“They’re always describing him as being swaddled. Odd word, swaddled. Sounds kind of violent.”

“It does kind of,” he agrees, leaning back against the bench and exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air. Her plan worked, he’s ever so slightly closer to her now, post cigarette exchange, close enough that when he sniffles she can feel the slight vibration of his shoulders through the loose fabric on her coat sleeve. It unites them like an accidental spark of electricity she can sense just faintly enough to feel jumpy. Or turned on. Or both.

She really shouldn’t be this shameless about trying desperately to corrupt a man of the cloth she wants to get under. Maybe she’d feel properly guilty if she wasn’t quite so fucking horny.

“So you did read more than just the passages I marked for you?” He asks, at once surprised and pleased and maybe nervous, grinning but also looking away for a moment as if he could disguise all of that.

“Not really, just the birth of the ol’ lord and savior. It seemed like it’d be climactic.”

“Was it?”

“Can’t say I climaxed reading it, no,” she says with a cheeky look that elicits the laughter she’s looking for, “No offense but it’s really quite boring, this book you love so much.”

“Yeah… that’s a tragically common sentiment among reviewers.” He’s scratching at his nose with the back of one wrist with such intensity it’s unmistakeable how much it’s bothering him.

“Don’t care much for the writing style either, I have to say.”

If the irritation could be resolved with a mouse-like scrunch of the nose he’d have figured it out by now, and clearly he hasn’t because he still has to shrink into his crossed arms like an accordion with a fairly high-pitched, vocal and thus somehow Irish-accented, “Hehh-ishhYUE!”

“Bless. The only way I was able to get through it was by imagining you in every speaking role.”

It’s a sentence meant to provoke him, not unlike most of her sentences, and for a minute as her eyes are on her own exhaled smoke and he fails to respond, she wonders whether it sounded even weirder than she meant it, but as it turns out he’s just about to sneeze again — squinting into the distance and bringing an arm to his face in slow motion.

“Mmff-SHOO!” He blinks in surprise as he resumes his previous position on the bench, now shifted just a bit farther away from her. Damn.

“Ugh, sorry. Every speaking role?? Ohfuck— ahh-ishSHEU!”

“Jesus.”

“You imagined me as Jesus??”

“No I mean Jesus, are you okay, did you catch something?” Of course she imagined him as Jesus.

“Ooh I hope not,” he says with a nervous look, “that’d be lousy timing.”

“The lord works in mysterious ways.”

“Thuh-that he does—” A sudden inhale, a crooked arm rising at a much hastened speed. It begins in a manageable way, somewhat controlled, but then it seems to get away from him.

“Hh… hehd’SHHUE!”

“Bless you, Father."

He mumbles a thank you bookended by soft snuffling.

“Maybe he’s sent you a plague of sneezing. He does that sometimes doesn’t he? Send plagues?”

His face just scarcely conveys amusement before it’s hijacked again by the same expectant expression, but he still attempts to talk through it, even as irritation becomes evident in every feature. “S-sometimes…”

She thinks about saying bless you in advance but decides instead to just wait for him to succumb to it. A flicker of lashes, a reveal of the very tips of canines, his entire face crinkles around his visibly twitching nose. It pulls him downward and then forward in that order, as he collapses into a crooked arm as if stumbling despite being seated.

An especially desperate, “hehhSCHOO!” that begins quietly but certainly doesn’t end that way.

“God bless you, Father, again.”

“Wow,” he says with a sniff, knuckles swiping under his nose in a single smooth motion, “Maybe I’m allergic to you. My body’s having a reaction.”

“Is it?”

An eyeroll and a grin, and then he goes back to scratching at his aggravated face in a manner that’s becoming aggressive.

“Well stop manhandling your nose that’s clearly not working.” Before she can think better of it, she takes his elbow to pull the offending arm away from his face. She can feel his muscles tense with the movement, but when she looks up at him there’s only a blurry-eyed smile chased by a nervous huff of a laugh. Another line she can’t uncross but doesn’t particularly want to.

The therapist hadn’t needed to point out that her all-consuming attraction to someone she couldn’t have was probably a healthy coping mechanism of her recently adopted abstinence. She hadn’t really expected this though — for her advances to not be rejected entirely. She hadn’t planned for hope to cease feeling like such a daft, one-sided notion.

“Should I even be blessing you or is that overkill? Or am I even qualified to bless you? Can one bless a priest if they’re not like, anointed or something?”

“You can bless me,” he confirms, looking like he’s barely got a handle on controlling his own eyebrows. Or lips for that matter. God, that mouth, those lips. Parting by accident the way she’d like to make them open on purpose.

“Little greedy of you. You’re not blessed enough as is?”

“Neh—neverhurts…” He pitches sidewards with a slurred, tellingly tipsy, “hehh-ESHHyoooo!”

“Bless you…”

“Thank you,” he sniffles with embarrassed necessity, bringing the back of a sleeve to his nose.

“Hold on, I think I have some tissues,” she says as she feels around in her bag in the darkness, “Well, cocktail napkins at least.” Another knuckle brush as she hands them to him. How arousing. How pitifully arousing. She really should come up with ways to hand him things more often.

“Ahh you were holding out on me,” he says, and then after a gentle blow, “Sorry.”

“You are coming down with something aren’t you?"

He thinks about it, bringing the napkin away from his nostrils with a final follow-up dab. “I dunno, maybe?”

“Do you feel ill?”

“Mostly just very itchy.”

How many other chances will she get… She reaches a hand to gingerly press the back of her fingers against his forehead. He blinks a few times in response, rapidly and reflexively, and swallows back a smile. There’s a burning in her stomach that’s neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

“Um, you feel okay I think?” She says, attention course-corrected back to the cigarette crumbling in her hand, but still glancing at him to measure the aftermath of the relatively bold gesture and they lock smiling eyes in the process.

If he really wanted to ward her off he’s doing a phenomenally shitty job of it. She knows he wants her. God if only that was enough, to know he wanted her.

“I think you’re right I’ve been sent a plague of sneezing. Probably trying to tell me something.”

“Something about how your new friend could take care of you?”

He grins with half of his mouth. “Or something about how I probably shouldn’t be drinking G&Ts in the middle of the night with my new friend who I like a little too much.”

Oh he… really shouldn’t have given her that.

“ExxSHHUE!!” He shakes the whole bench with this, then straightens back up, not looking entirely recovered, and says almost to himself, “And about how I probably shouldn’t tell my new friend that I like them a little too much.”

“But you did anyway and he hasn’t, I dunno, smote you down yet.”

Irritation is still etched into his features, his chest slowly swelling with air, hastily fiddling with the napkins.

“Are you actually going to sneeze again? You haven’t finished?”

He shakes his head as his eyes close and seizes into a rushed, “hehESHHyue!"

“It’s a plague I can’t stop! Snf, it’s out of my hands."

She knows the night’s over, she does. She gets the sense that she’d been invited to overstay her welcome, but it’s getting past that point now. Whenever she leaves after being around him her face hurts from smiling like an idiot the whole time and she comes away aching in more ways than one. That ache is starting already, another sign they’ve stretched this interaction too long once again.

However, alcohol. “If you tell me to leave and you sneeze again perhaps we’ll know whether or not it was divine intervention.”

“He might just be punishing me now anyway,” he sighs, remembering a cigarette he may not have taken a single drag from, neglected and foreshortening in his fingers.

“We haven’t done anything we’re just talking. I’m a—what is it, parishioner?”

“That is a word, yes. Snf! Though it implies someone who’s actually going to church to, you know, practice their faith."

“I’m a parishioner here to…” she’s not even sure what to say, she still doesn’t know shit about Catholicism aside from the fact that it’s a massive cockblock, “seek your… counsel? Guidance? Guidance counseling.”

He puts a hand over part of his face, tired but amused. “You can’t act innocent even when you’re trying your best, can you?"

She almost snorts. Is this what he thinks trying her best looks like?—No, don’t actually say— “Who said I was trying my best?”

Why can’t she stop herself from saying things like that to him? The only thing that’s going to stop her now is a ‘no’ that’s actually firm enough not to give way when she presses against it relentlessly. He honestly needs to just get it over with before he really gives her too much to hold onto. She’s not going to win out over God, the guy’s pretty fucking stiff competition.

Goddamnit, just break her heart already, what the fuck is he waiting for? This should have ended ages ago, and now it’s getting dangerously close to too late.

Was it unfair to assume he’d be stronger than her? Or is he trying to hurt himself too? A duetted exercise in masochism, mutually assured destruc—

“—ESSHHYUE!” He looks at her through wet lashes, bleary and sheepish and drunk and cute and fuck.

She sighs loudly, looks skyward and says, “Right, you’ve made your point! I’m leaving!”

#am i going to include the forehead feeling trope in every fic I ever write? ur goddamn right I am #to be fair I resisted the heightened temperature temptation aaand he’s not technically sick so I’m ‘doing something new’#I’ve done this platonic-but-not dynamic to death and I’ll 100% do it again in the future #i have absolutely no concept of how popular this show is or isn't #but hey hot priest is hot so here ya go #i am not even a little bit catholic but neither is fleabag so no research for meeeee #mongoose writes sometimes

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reelwriter19 · 4 years

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A Better Man

Pairings: Erik Stevens X Black Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Implied smut, cursing

Word Count: 3241

“Sssshhh...Erik you have to stop yelling.” You pleaded with your husband as you struggled to get his oversized drunken frame through the front door.

Slurring every word, “Y/N, I DON’T CARE! These colonizers know who’s buildin’ this is!”

You shook your head and couldn’t help but smirk as Erik kicked his boots off and planted himself on the floor in the hallway like a toddler. It was LATE and you were exhausted, but you gave him a pass on this f**k boi behavior because his 35th birthday was in a few days and even though he’d never admit it, that number was messing with his head. So when the owner of the lounge called you personally to come pick him up at 1:45AM, you threw on a sweater, grabbed your keys and ran out the door.

Erik looked up from his stooper just in time to catch you undoing your bra in annoyance. “YES!!! My girls need to be free!”

“Wow…..goodnight Mr. Stevens.” Shaking your head as you walked away, he seemed to find his sea legs long enough to scurry after you, wrapping his arms around your middle and slowly creeping his hands up to ‘the girls’.

“Come on ma, let me hit. You know I sleep better after.”

His touch in this moment was making you weak, but as you turned your head to permit him a kiss, you were hit with a heavy dose of reality. Erik hadn’t drunk this heavily in a while, and the evidence of it was seeping through his pores and breath in the worst way. You turned to face him, now keeping him at arm's length.

“UGH...nigga let you hit?! I love you, but the last time we tried to have sex when you were this drunk, you fell asleep in me, during said process. Uh huh...nope, not tonight. The girls will be all yours tomorrow.”

The next morning you awoke to find Erik still fully clothed, knocked and snoring on the chaise lounge in your walk-in closet. He still smelled, but you were grateful for the fact that he wasn’t too drunk to remember how you felt about outside clothes on the bed. You kissed him on his forehead, got dressed and started making calls. You were throwing him a birthday party that night at the house. You had to confirm food drop offs with the caterers, pick up some balloons and grab one final gift to surprise him with the next day. His training made him really hard to surprise, but you knew he wouldn’t be expecting this.

You heard the shower turn off as you walked back into the house from your excursion. “Erik!” You hollered putting bags and what seemed like 100 balloons in a corner, making your way upstairs to the bedroom. “Kia and Shuri will be here in a few hours to help me set up. I’m gonna need you out of here soo…”

Your words trailed off as your ebony Adonis emerged from the bathroom, towel low on his hips, scars glistening on his chest. He knew his power over you and now you were the one intoxicated. He raised an eyebrow as he slinked over to you ever so slowly, you, still frozen, allowing him access to begin undressing you without much of a fight.

“You were sayin’ somethin’?”

“Baby...I have so much to get done for the party.”

“I remember you saying that these right here were all...mine...today.” He started to pepper kisses across your chest and conveniently dropped his towel to the floor. Every task on your list quickly faded into the background. He was the soon to be birthday boy afterall. Who were you to deny him this gift?

-------

The house was filled with laughter and music. You sat on Erik’s lap with his arm wrapped snug around your waist as he and some of his boys laughed about stories from their days at MIT. You knew the majority of the people there, Erik always kept a tight circle. But there was one guy, Malik, from his days in foster care that he recently reconnected with that hadn’t made your acquaintance. He was mostly quiet throughout the night, sometimes too quiet, but you chalked that up to how he was raised. Knowing what your husband went through, bouncing from house to house, no one really caring if he lived or died, you always had a soft spot for the people he bonded with during those years, and Malik was one of them.

T’Challa walked over to the rowdy bunch in his usual stoic way, hiding something behind his back. Nakia stood next to him, beaming from ear to ear.

“Pardon me Y/N, gentlemen, but N’Jadaka, I have something that might interest you.” He revealed a black velvet cigar box with the word “Daka” embroidered on the top in gold. It was rare to shock this man, it was even more rare for T’Challa to pull a reaction from Erik that wasn’t sarcastic or flippant.

“Yooooo, T! You wild out man!”

Turning to you as Erik stood up, “Is that a good thing?”

Before you could reply, Shuri belted out a laugh from across the room and said, “Oh brotha! That’s a VERY good thing!”

Erik hugged T’Challa, which was enough to bring a tear to your eye, as the men clamoured for access to a cigar as they walked out on the balcony to light one and commemorate the occasion.

You and Nakia locked arms and laughed at the group as they ran outside as if hiding a porno tape from their mothers.

Turning to her, “Should I ask where you got those?”

“Let’s just say, they once belonged to a very bad man with many items that needed to be confiscated for...archiving. And now they have been gifted to a better man to celebrate his life and the passage of time.”

“Riiight. Well thank you, for everything. I really appreciate you guys. He’s been so down lately. I couldn’t have done this without your help. I’m gonna go get the cake ready while they’re out there.”

Walking towards the kitchen, you noticed Shuri trying to hide behind a few other guests that were deep in conversation in the dining room. Pausing, you didn’t even have to walk her way to know what she was up to.

“Shuri! Put that drink down right now!”

“Awww, Y/N come on! I thought we were cool. I just want a taste of this good American stuff.”

“Girl, your mother will kill me! Put it down and go find the candles for the cake.”

She stomped over to you and you grabbed her in a tight hug.

“You’re no fun, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

You walked into the kitchen dancing and singing to yourself. “Tell Me” by Groove Theory was now playing through the speakers Erik insisted you guys have installed when you first brought the place. A few of the guests trickled out of the room as Erik’s friend Malik followed you in.

“Tell me if you want me to, give you all my time. I wanna make it GOOD FOR YOUUU!!!!”

You grabbed some plates and napkins from the cabinet and turned mid groove to find Malik standing a little too close. He was taller than your husband but his facial features were no comparison. Let’s be real, not many faces could compare.

“Oh my bad. I didn’t mean to scare you...I was just lookin’ for a garbage. Y’all recycle?”

“Yep, uuh, right there by the door.”

“Cool cool.” Walking over to discard his beer bottle, he turned back around and extended a hand to you. “Malik.”

Switching the plates to your left hand, you extended yours to shake his. “I know. Erik told me about you. He said you guys were like brothers growing up.”

“Yeah, that’s my dawg.” Licking his lips and taking you in a little too intensely, he continued his thought. “We always liked to share things when we were comin’ up.”

You snatched your hand back as Shuri walked in with the candles in hand, dancing to herself.

“Y/N, you have to make me a playlist of these songs for the lab!”

“I will, I promise.”

You walked towards her, grateful to your God and Bast that Shuri’s timing was so impeccable. As you handed her the other items and took the cake from the counter, Malik touched your butt and quickly left the kitchen.

Did he just grab my ASS?!

No, no, he didn’t, he couldn’t!

That nigga just grabbed by ASS!!

You stormed out of the kitchen ready to raise hell, but as soon as you did, a smiling Erik black man jogged towards you and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.

“You good babe?”

Hands on his chest, gazing in to his bright eyes full of happiness and peace for the first time in a while, there was no way you could ruin this night.

“Yeah, yeah sweetie I’m ok. I was just looking for the candles that’s all. You ready for your cake?”

Nestling his face in your neck as he replied, leaving a wet kiss. “As long as I can have the rest of my dessert later.”

You giggled as his facial hair grazed your skin and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. You hoped that Malik was somewhere watching, being reminded of who the hell your man was and the imminent danger his life was in if he EVER decided to touch you again.

-------

“Aight aight, enough of this terrible singing...blow out the candles man!” One of Erik’s college friends yelled, causing everyone to erupt in laughter. Erik obliged and everyone cheered. He found his way right back to you, engulfing you in his embrace from behind.

“I wanna thank y’all for coming tonight, for real. To have everyone I care about in the same room celebrating me, it’s just, yeah…...I especially wanna thank my princess, my QUEEN who pulled this off without breaking a sweat. I love you, Y/N.”

Turning to face your man, you couldn’t stop cheesing, caressing his dimpled cheeks as he pecked your lips repeatedly.

“Damn, I guess this is what happens when a nigga gets old. Got me all emotional and shit! Shuri, turn that music back up!”

-------

The house had finally cleared of most guests, finally allowing you to put your fuzzy slippers on. You were saying your final goodbyes to T’Challa, Nakia, Shuri.

“Are you sure you don’t need Shuri to help you stay and clean up?” T joked as they walked towards the door.

“Haha! No it’s ok, really. There’s not much more to do. Thank you again. You really made his night.”

“It was our pleasure, Y/N.”

“Make sure you stop by before you head back to Wakanda.”

You closed the door and the newfound silence of your apartment caused you to immediately flash back to that moment in the kitchen with Malik. You had to make sure it got dealt with, but not tonight.

You walked out on the balcony to take in the night air. The life of a hostess was not easy and fatigue was hitting you like a ton of bricks. Out of nowhere, a massive hand smacked you on the butt, scaring the crap out of you. You turned to see it was Erik and not the filth who had violated your space earlier.

“Why you so jumpy girl?”

Attempting to gather yourself quickly and avoid his gaze, you brushed past him and went back into the living room. But as always, he was hot on your heels.

“I’m not E, damn! You just...I thought you were upstairs.”

“You only call me E when you’re annoyed at something or pissed at me, so what’s up?”

“Nothing ERIK, nothing. You’re just always on your sleath shit moving around this house and I wasn’t ready. I’m just tired, baby, that’s all.” Walking towards the steps, you prayed that was enough to hold him off for a bit.

“I’m gonna go change clothes. I left the cake on the counter if you want another slice. Cuz I know you want another slice.”

Whew! Home free, at least for now. You knew your nightly routine would at least give you some time away from him to think. Of course you’d tell him, eventually, but you knew Erik’s past too well to pretend that you weren’t fearful of what he’d do. You’d never be able to erase the sound of the guy's jaw breaking because he put his hands on you at the club when you first started dating. Or the time he threatened your old boss's life and family for overworking his ‘princess’ when you started having panic attacks because of your job. You weren’t at all scared of him, but you were scared of how this news would set him back.

You emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and wearing Erik’s shirt, to find him perched on the corner of your enormous bed, cake in hand and staring at you. You playfully walked towards him planting yourself in between his legs.

“Can I have a piece?”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’ll just go get my own.”

“I ate it all before I came upstairs.”

“You better be lying.”

He wasn’t budging and you could tell his patience was starting to wane.

“Fine! Since you refuse to drop this.” You hesitated, backing away from him, bracing yourself for impact, but quickly decided to go another route. You walked to the closet and grabbed a small gift wrapped box from where you kept your extra tampons. He joked with you once that he’d be willing to buy them for you, but after that, you were on your own.

“I made us reservations for tomorrow night. I was going to give this to you then, but you’re so impatient.”

You handed over the box with a huge smile on your face, the giddiness now starting to set in.

Erik looked down at the box and back towards you, rubbing your thigh slowly.

“Well, open, open!”

He chuckled, finding your sudden excitement amusing. “Oh I’m the impatient one?”

He finally opened the box and pulled out a black dog tag necklace with the word ‘Baba’ inscribed on one side and a fingerprint on the other. Erik stared at the necklace in awe. When he finally looked up, he had tears in his eyes, which always made you full on cry.

“Happy Birthday! I’m pregnant. This is your father's fingerprint. I had Nakia do some digging to…”

Before you could get another word out, Erik’s lips were attached to yours. He lifted you off your feet bridal style and placed you on the bed as if moving too fast would break you. Erik made love to you as if it were the first time. Covering every inch of your body with attention to make sure you knew how appreciative he was of the best gift he could have ever asked for.

-------

You laid on your husband's chest, tracing his scars while his fingers made lazy circles along your stomach.

“How long have you known?”

“A few weeks.”

“Damn, I must’ve really been out of it.”

You smiled because him admitting it meant he was finally back.

“E…” You sat up, gathering the sheet around yourself to face him.

“What’s up?”

“Is it hot in here? Wow, i’m sweating.” You jumped up suddenly wrapped in the sheet to go open the window. Now pacing…Erik sat up fully and gave you a minute to process whatever the hell you refused to spit out from earlier.

“Y/N, talk to me.”

“Ok, Erik, listen. Before I tell you anything, I want you to remember that you’re about to be a father. And before I needed you but now it’s your family that needs you. You hear the difference there? We’re a family. And I have a doctors appointment tomorrow afternoon so now that you know I want you to come so you can meet the doctor and get used to…”

In his usual sleath-like manor, Erik had hoped out of bed to stop you from pacing. Once you finally turned around, you were face to chest with him. He lightly grabbed your chin and raised an inquisitive brow. You took a deep breath and finally blurted it out! By the time you finished recounting the story, Erik’s jaw was locked and his body frozen. At this point, you were sitting on the edge of the bed because, exhaustion.

“....I didn’t say anything earlier because you were so happy. Baby I hadn’t heard your laugh in such a long time. I also know how close the two of you used to be. I’m so sorry.”

Hearing that brought your husband back out of his daze. He knelt in front of you making sure your eyes were locked with his.

“Y/N, listen to me. You have nothing to be sorry for, do you hear me? You’re my whole world..” Touching your stomach, “Tonight you’ve managed to make that world even better. That nigga violated my trust and made you feel less than in your own body, in our house...f**k no.”

Erik was eerily calm. The man you knew would’ve been dressed at the part of the story with the handshake and in front of Malik’s house with you on speaker by the time you said, “...touched by ass.”

Instead, with a kiss to your forehead, he made the choice to lay back down. “It’s all good baby, let’s get some sleep.”

-------

The next day you awoke to an empty bed. You got dressed quickly and headed downstairs to find Erik in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Good morning beautiful.”

This was always one of your favorite sights. You stood behind him, wrapping him in a hug while he plated the cheese eggs and breathed him in.

“It’s your birthday Erik. I should be cooking for you.”

“Please...besides your doctor called and had to push your appointment up by an hour so eat up quick! I don’t wanna be late.”

You watched him run upstairs, still wondering who the hell this new guy was and what he did with Erik “the colonizers can kiss mine” Stevens.

He came back down, keys in hand, dog tag on next to his father's ring, sneakers and glasses on. Damn you loved when he wore those glasses. That’s probably how you got pregnant in the first place.

“You ready?”

“Yeah…” You put your plate in the dishwasher and grabbed your bag, walking towards the hallway with him.

“Baby? About our conversation last night. You’re not gonna do anything crazy are you?”

“Oh, you mean Malk?”

“Yes, Erik, that’s what I'm talking about”

“It’s already handled.”

“Erik...what did you do?! Didn’t we discuss this? FAMILY. BABY. Us NEEDING you to not get locked up or worse.”

“Relax, Y/N. I didn’t do anything personally.”

You breathed a small sigh of relief, but he wasn’t quite done. “...let’s just say no one will see him anywhere, EVER...AGAIN.”

“E! You can’t just go offing people at every whim, even if you do hire someone else to take care of it for you. That’s not what I meant.”

“Baby steps, ma. Baby steps.”

#erik stevens x reader #Erik killmonger x Reader #erik x reader #blacklove #marvel universe #reelwriter19 #oneshot #birthday #black panther

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maxrev · 3 years

Note

For the kiss prompts: "in the snow" and "life or death" if I can combine them like that? your call) for an otp of your choice.

IT IS DONE...I had no idea this would explode into such a long prompt lol. I mean, I gave it a title and even added a quote xD. Anyways, here you are :) Thanks SO much for the prompt! A bit angsty but I figured the prompt called for it!

Under the cut because...wow...

I’d like to thank @spaced0lphin for her wonderful musical work, as it provided inspiration to write this piece and @theoriginalladya for checking it over

When I Took to the Sky

Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time… It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other. Leo Buscaglia

Arcing through the debris, the drop shuttle came to rest amidst the debris of a ship, snow puffing up into the air as it landed; flakes sparkling as they danced and whirled in the air before once again coming to rest on the ground. Pulling on his gloves, the pilot reached for his helmet resting on the passenger seat and tugged it on, twisting it snug with a snap.

He took a deep, steadying breath...and stepped out onto Alchera.

Ever since Niall had received the message from Admiral Hackett about placing a memorial here, he’d been pushing it aside. A memorial to honor those who’d laid down their lives for the Alliance. Hardly seemed enough, considering how dismissive the findings the crew of the Normandy had presented. But the fact he was employed by Cerberus now was cause for surprise in being contacted. Other questions followed though; why had the Alliance waited so long to decide on a memorial? Had he not rose from the grave like Lazarus, would they even have bothered?

Once he’d agreed, he continued to push it aside. There were other missions to take precedence, a ragtag bunch of crew members to hunt down and recruit, and the Illusive Man to annoy - his personal favorite agenda. Anything took precedence over coming here. He simply wasn’t ready to face the part of his past which had changed everything. There was hope coming here would heal old wounds, rather than deepen them.

His steps were measured, faltering when he came upon a piece of the Normandy, his mind thrown back in time invoking memories he’d suppressed of a life changing event from over two years ago.

Two fecking years!

It was a constant struggle to process the passage of time; dying and then being resurrected without any knowledge of it.

Pausing at the mako, he was thrown into the past, scenes flashing behind his eyes…Kaidan's white knuckled grip as Niall slid the tank through snow and ice up the mountain on Noveria; Ashley yelling with uncontained glee as he'd skidded close to the edge of the lava pools on Feros; Garrus' mandibles twitching when he'd observe the mako on return to the Normandy; Kaidan's resignation upon being turned down again upon his request to drive...the near kiss they'd shared inside the cab a few hours before their last drop when their world ended.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the approach of another drop shuttle.

A sound came from behind him, out of place in the absolute stillness around him. Niall whirled, one hand reaching for his maglocked weapon, the other erupting in a blue glow. Setting eyes on the source, both hands dropped to his side in shock.

Kaidan.

Right away, he noticed he LT had changed. They’d spent so much time together; on the ship, off the ship, on the battlefield, he’d learned the LT’s subtle mannerisms. Gone was the quiet, sensitive marine soldier with stars in his eyes, the romantic he’d claimed to be back on the SR-1. In the eyes staring back at him carefully, in the posture of the man before him, there was a confidence and maturity he’d not had before. There was also doubt.

It's me, Niall wanted to say, to reassure. It just wasn't so simple.

He watched the play of emotions in the deep brown eyes he'd dreamed about so often. Their eyes locked and he was thrown back in time. Although for him, it was only a few months ago...not two years, when they’d been sitting in the mess on the SR-1, drinking coffee and going over their notes on the Terminus. Niall had been going on about the goose chase they'd been sent on...

“I cannae believe they sent us out to the arse end of space for nothing! Wasted two fucking weeks looking for something which isnae even here.” He slammed his fist on the table, other soldiers in the mess startled at his outburst. Niall ignored them.

“I’m sure they just wanted us out of the way but we’ll find something, Shepard. We just have to be patient.”

Niall snorted, “My patience ran dry about an hour inta this mission. I’ll contact those doaty bampots and tell 'em what I really think.”

Kaidan chuckled, took a sip of his coffee before answering, “Not your best idea by a long shot.”

Winking at him and enjoying the slight blush across the cheeks, Niall smiled, “Aye but it’ll be fun and blow off some steam.”

In the end, nothing came of it as the ship rocked hard to port and alarms began to blare around them...

A cough brought him back to the present, watching the brown eyes change in the light, the initial confusion fading to doubt, then replaced with wariness.

"Who are you?" The first words to be spoken aloud between them, in the same velvety rasp which had haunted Niall’s dreams.

They cut deep, hurt worse than any wound he’d endured. He straightened up, pushing the pain away and answered.

“Who d'ya think it is? Jolly ol' St. Nick? Tis me, Kaidan. Niall.” He felt like he was stating the obvious, words coming out sharper than intended.

Silence followed his outburst, the sound of wind wailing in the distance filling the stillness. As the quiet stretched on, Niall reflected on the situation, quickly realizing if roles were reversed, he'd be suspicious as well. Indignation sailed away like a balloon on the wind.

Ready to apologize, Kaidan spoke before Niall could ready his words, “I thought--” voice hoarse with agony, he choked on whatever he’d been about to say, unable to continue. Looking away from Niall, he composed himself, took a deep breath and despite his attempt to remain calm, blurted, “You...you were dead.”

Biting his tongue against voicing the LT’s mighty powers of observation, Niall fought for something a wee bit more serious and relatable. Now wasnae the time for jokes.

“Aye," the words ‘but now I’m not’ still echoing in the air between them. How could he begin to explain what he dinnae understand himself? As if he were stuck in quick sand, he felt the more he tried to climb out, the deeper he sank.

“So, the rumors were true.”

“Och, aye, guess they were.”

“When?”

The wealth of emotion in the single word struck Niall right in the heart, nearly making him stagger from the pain. He fought for an answer, disregarding one after another as they came to him.

With a heavy sigh, he decided on the truth, “Several months ago.” The dark brows inside the black helmet furrowed downwards into a frown he was all too familiar with. Even to his own ears the response sounded lame. “I dinnae know until then. I was...uh...I doonae even know what to call it...brought back to life?” He threw his hands up in frustration.

Disbelief followed his statement, turning quickly to suspicion. He could see the change in Kaidan's eyes through the visor. Tone flat, he echoed, “Brought back to life." At Niall’s nod of confirmation, his voice rose, "How is such a thing even possible? Who is...capable of such a thing?”

Knowing how Kaidan felt about the organization, Niall didn't spare him the facts. He'd find out anyway. “Cerberus.”

The climate of Alchera was cold and frigid, unfit for flora or fauna to sustain life. Even inside his armor, Naill could feel the chill in the air and had simply wanted to walk through the ruins and leave quickly. He’d never expected to find a dog tag or get lost in memories.

And now, with his confession, the temperature seemed to drop even further; at least where the two of them stood. Kaidan stared at him for several long, agonizing seconds. He didn’t bother answering, turning around and walking away.

Niall jumped forward, his gloved hands capturing Kaidan’s stopping him, “Wait, please. Don’t go.”

His gaze dropped down to where their hands were joined; Niall's did as well, heart skipping in his chest. “Please.” He wasn't above begging, not when it came to Kaidan.

Pulling his hand from Niall’s, Kaidan turned away; yet, he didn’t leave. Several minutes went by; Niall held his breath. “How could you? It’s...they’re Cerberus! You know what they’ve done. The...the things we saw!”

Fully aware of what his impassioned words implied, Niall felt his anger rise in response, “Did ya think I had a choice in this? As if I could pick and choose who would ha’ the honors of...of fixing...of rebuilding me? Fuck! I wouldnae have chosen this at all...if anyone had ever bothered to ask me first. But here I am and will damn well make the best of it, ya ken?”

Silence stretched on around them. “Are you…you?” Kaidan whispered.

How many times had he looked in the mirror wondering the exact same thing? “I doonae know, Kaidan…" He repeated in a whisper, "I doonae know."

With the admission, he could not look at Kaidan anymore, gazed around them instead. He saw a glint of something shiny; another set of dog tags perhaps.

To fill the void, he explained, “Saw something sparkle in the sun shortly after I landed. Walked over and found a set of dog tags belonging to Pressly. As I wandered among the wreckage I found more from the crew...the ones who…” he couldn’t say it out loud, felt a hand settle on his shoulder.

Startled, he turned to stare at it, unable to process the gesture with Kaidan’s protests from a few short minutes ago. Did he believe him now or was it all just for show? Yet, Kaidan had never been superficial. Something Niall admired about him, then and now.

“We’ll do it together.” The words startled him even more than the touch, but he was grateful.

“Aye. Tapadh leat.” **

Searching the pieces of the Normandy side by side. As the looked, Niall noticed the sky darkening overhead. Caught up in the past, neither of them had paid any attention. A storm was approaching; a large one. Seeing another glint of metal, Niall brushed off the snow and wrapped the chain around his gloved fingers.

The storm had intensified and was coming at them fast and furious. There wasn’t time for them to get to their drop shuttles and leave.

He turned and tapped on Kaidan’s helmet. “We need to take cover. Now! Get inside one of the drop shuttles!” Niall took off at a dead run towards the one closest, Kaidan hot on his heels.

Jumping inside, Niall slammed his fist against the touchpad, shutting the door just as the storm growled over them, ice chips beating a staccato against the steel hull. Wind buffeted the Kodiak, causing it to rock before sliding a few inches along the ground. Unable to radio out and with no one able to contact them, they were sitting ducks at the mercy of the storm.

Niall reached up and took off his helmet, scrubbing his shorn, itchy scalp with gloved fingertips.

“You...you’re...the scars?” Kaidan finally managed.

Niall had forgotten. Not completely healed when the Lazarus project had been sabotaged, he was left with scars where his skin hadn’t had time to knit back together. Chakwas told him by remaining calm they would eventually heal and fade but with stress, they would remain...or get worse.

Well...

He turned towards Kaidan, their eyes locking. Niall wasn’t the man he’d been the last time they’d seen each other.

“Aye, scars. I wasnae fully healed when...well, when I was brought out of my coma.” He went to replace his helmet.

Kaidan stopped him, hand on his arm. “No, don’t. I don’t care what you look like, Niall. I just...I was surprised.”

He nodded. No moreso than he when he first looked in the mirror. The image staring back at him had been a great shock. That mirror had been replaced. Niall went and sat down on the bench in the back; Kaidan remained standing, neither one speaking as the storm raged on outside. It might last an hour or maybe days.

“Look, Kaidan--”

“Niall, I--”

Both of them spoke at once. Niall gave a weak grin as Kaidan chuckled and he noticed the pink hue covering the tips of the ears. Some things hadn’t changed. He felt as if a weight had been lifted and he’d been granted a boon.

Looking at Kaidan straight on, he began again, “I ken how it looks. I do. But, before you draw and quarter me, I dinnae now what to do, where to go. The Alliance won’t ha’ me now and I talked with Anderson and Hackett. They know what’s going on with the human abductions. The Council won’t listen.” He spat the name, no more enamored with them than in the past. “What would ya ha’ me do?”

“Plead your case, push them. Be relentless like you were before. They have to see reason.”

Shaking his head at Kaidan’s blind faith, he countered, “Do they? Have they ever? Have ya forgotten Sovereign? The Citadel doesnae even remember, the damage wwept away like so much garbage, forgotten and moved on.”

The shoulders slumped. Niall studied him, drinking in the sight of a man he hadn’t realized how much he’d begun to care about. Until he was gone. Yet, here he was right in front of him. And they were arguing, Kaidan too blind to see what was so obvious. He stood up, stepping forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Kaidan looked up.

Niall lost himself in the brown eyes, a golden amber when the light overhead caught them just right. How had he never noticed before? The laugh lines spreading out from the corners of his eyes, the freckles above his right eyebrow. So many details he’s missed. No, he’d never bothered to find. Now, he noticed them all...and more.

Adrenaline surged in his blood, excitement unfurling within him. He remembered the scars over Kaidan’s lips, wanting to touch them, see how they felt beneath his fingertips...against his tongue. They were right there in front of him now. Overcome with a tidal wave of pent up emotions, he acted on impulse.

Leaning forward, he captured Kaidan’s mouth with his, losing himself in the scent and taste of him, in the soft lips, his tongue tracing the scars...finally.

Lost in a longing he had no name for, it took Niall several seconds to register there was no reciprocation. His heart twisted painfully inside his chest. So, this was it, then. He took a deep breath, ready to apologize. But, as he stepped away, he stumbled, Kaidan surging forward to initiate the kiss this time.

The Kodiak faded away, as did the storm outside. Only the two of them existed in this perfect moment and Niall drank it up like a parched man in the desert until they both broke away, simply in order to breathe.

** thank you, Scottish Gaelic, informal

#prompt #laelior #mshenko #mass effect #Niall Shepard #Kaidan Alenko

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

Text

Bloody, Beaten, Bruised or Maximum Effort

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst @amyofaquitaine

This passage contains potentially: scenes of one (or more) characters swearing, blood, self-harm (unintentional) and scenes of a violent nature. whump content and potential tear-jerking moments.

Summary: In this 'chapter' Kirby has her first fight in New Jersey, and stay in New Jersey for a week, leading to some heavy whump content by a certain someone.

Kirby's POV:

Standard match, one on one with a ten minute time limit. Not much for a debut but it's made into a big deal upon learning the opponents were male and female and not the standard male on male.

Jobber VS Newcomer.

Andrew Strong VS Kirby 'Gluttony' Lucifarian.

The bell rings and the fight starts.

"Strong throws the first punch and misses."

"The Ogress capitalises and hits him with a Feeding Frenzy."

"Strong is backed into the turnbuckle but the Ogress continues her attack."

"The referee is forced to separate them and Strong gets The Ogress in a lock-up."

"A swift knee to the stomach and Strong is staggered."

"The Ogress hits Strong with the Organ Grinder and it looks like it's all over."

"She covers Strong and … one … two … three. She's done it! The Ogress has won!"

Walking back to the locker room, I caught a glimpse of Moolah as she sneers at me and I shrug her off, focusing on getting into some clean clothes and going back to the hotel. I change and walk out of the dressing room with my bag slung over my shoulder.

"Good work out there, Kirby."

I recognise the voice and turn to see André, "Thank you, Drey."

"Moolah, doesn't seem to like you girls."

"We're stealing the hag's time in the sun. She always hates people who do that, even if she brings them in. I'll see you soon Drey."

"See you soon, Kirby."

I start walking back to the hotel when I start hearing a voice behind me, gradually getting closer.

"Hey, Miss, I think you dropped this." A distinctly masculine voice called out.

I turned around to see what the person wanted. To my surprise they had picked up my wallet, "Huh, I didn't feel it fall out of my pocket, thank you."

The man handed it to me before introducing himself, "Paul Orndorff. I saw your match earlier, you're fast for a giant, tough too."

"Thank you, Mr Orndorff."

He looked over his shoulder, "Oh, well, I have to go, Piper's waiting for me."

"Uh well, bye Mr Orndorff."

He left without another word and I unzipped my bag slightly to place my wallet inside, zipping it back up and continuing back to the hotel. I spent the night in a cramped hotel room and went to the gym the next morning.

Setting myself up at a heavy bag and practicing as per usual, no interruptions, no one else near by to talk to.

It was as if my mind just drifted away and I went into this mental fog, no gloves on but punching as if I did, breaking through the skin on my knuckles and only stopping after I noticed smears of blood on the heavy bag.

I wiped it down and bandaged my knuckles before moving on to doing push ups, lunges, squats and other exercises that wouldn't leave me covered in blood.

I was alone for the rest of the day, so I ordered some pizza (simple, pepperoni) and relaxed in the hotel, I pulled out a sketch book from my suitcase and began sketching.

I didn't plan on sketching anything too important so I just went with what was on my mind, which happened to be Roddy, Jeez it's like I'm becoming emotionally attached to this idiot.

When I see him next I'll give him the drawing if I have it with me. I close the sketchbook and go back to the gym for around an hour, before coming back to the hotel and getting some rest.

I woke up the next morning (January 9th) and had a day much the same as the last, got up, did my morning routine, went to the gym, came back, ordered Chinese food and started drawing. It was just a shitty little thing, but once again, the Rowdy one came to mind.

What is it with Scottish men and me, is it because I'm a quarter Scottish, is it maybe because I believe in the folk tales and stories of old, of knights on white steeds, saving fair maidens and living happily ever after, while the monsters they kill or maim lie in a pool of their own blood and wish they could've had a different life?

I have no idea, and the idea of my own mind comparing me with those monsters makes me regret ever reading those stories while growing up, rather I should have stuck my head into scientific textbooks instead of tales of heroism and fantastical ghouls, then I would have never become and wrestler or met the amazing people in my life.

I look back down at the paper and decide to let Roddy have two final full page drawings on the other side of the sketches I've already drawn of him, I add in a small note on the page under a picture of Roddy that Sam had found.

The more I looked at the drawings and that lone picture, the more I realised the small details of Roddy's features, the strong jaw with a cleft chin, his hazel eyes? or are they dark blue? either way they intrigue me. And that musculature, Roddy's not slim but not a big man either, he's at that almost perfect weight to body fat ratio. Good lord, listen to me calling … Piper, Roddy, Him, perfect. I think I want to be sick, just to be rid of those thoughts.

Right as I run into the small bathroom I hear a commotion in the hallway and someone being thrown or more accurately, hurled into the other side of the bathroom wall. I take a deep breath, re-fix my mask into it's usual position and dart out into the corridor, right as the commotion ends.

The obvious victim of the bout was on the floor face down with a long, not to deep cut down the back of their left leg and was breathing heavily when I reached them.

"Woah, hey, hey buddy." I whispered to them in an effort to calm them.

"Kirby?"

FUCK

…

That Glaswegian accent, fuck, He's not even supposed to be in town, or is he?

"Piper?!" I whisper-yelled, more to myself than to him.

"Hey…" his voice trailed off, I heaved him over my shoulder and went back into my hotel room, tossing him down on the only bed and grabbing his left foot, reaching over to my suitcase and getting my personal first aid kit, nothing too fancy, some bandages, plasters, the bare essentials. I cleaned the cut and bandaged it, taping the bandage in place.

I glanced up from Roddy's leg and saw that he had passed out, "Shit." I muttered to myself, louder than I thought and his eyes flickered open.

"Kirby? Is that you?" His voice weak but still understandable.

I stood there, frozen to the spot, unable to move, I wanted to cry as I realised how badly he had been beaten up, his eyebrow cut, coming close to his eye, his hairline a mix of matted brown hair and blood that was starting to coagulate and then I started to notice more things wrong with Roddy's visage.

His shirt (a Piper classic, yellow with a wild cat graphic) was torn in several places, showing bruises and nicks in his flesh. His kilt, however, was fully intact, including his belt and sporran, though all of it was scuffed with little scratches, but no cuts.

"Kirby? Kirby talk to me, please?" He spoke so carefully and it broke me.

I dropped to my knees, weeping, and Roddy shot to his feet, before dropping down on his left side and leaning on the bed, getting only a couple of steps closer to me.

"Kirby, are you okay?"

"Roddy, look at ya," I took a deep breath in, "How can you be so beat up and worried about me? How is that possible?"

"Kirby? look at ya, you're crying over me? I thought you didn't care about me that much?"

I wiped the tears from my face and got Roddy back on the bed.

"Stay there, Piper."

"Oh, feisty."

"Roddy! Stay on the bed and don't move."

"Yes Ma'am."

I trudged into the bathroom and ran a long cold shower, and I heard him move off the bed before swearing and sitting back on the bed.

"I thought I said, DON'T MOVE Roddy!"

"Alright, alright. … feisty"

After the shower, I dressed in the bathroom after drying myself off and exited the room. I instantly noticed a sleeping Piper.

"I guess I'll sleep on the floor then."

"C'mere." He lazily waved his arm to try and beckon me over.

"No, Roddy, get some rest."

"Come here and get in the bed." He rolled over and picked up the duvet, lackadaisically blowing a joking kiss in my direction.

"Jesus, Roddy, fine."

I climbed into the bed and felt Roddy's arms curl around my waist and his face between my shoulder blades.

"Rod, get off."

"Wha'?"

"Get off of me."

"Why?"

"Aren't you married, get off."

"if I was married, there would be a ring on my finger," He waved his left hand in front of my face, "No ring, no wife."

"Oh. Still, get off."

"Now, would that be 'get off' in the, leave me alone, way or the 'get off' in the, I love you take me now, way." The latter a clear joke but it annoyed me even more.

"Leave me alone, Roddy."

He slid his arms off and rolled to face the other way.

"Small bed, Kirby."

"I wasn't expecting company, Piper."

"Your tattoos are nice."

"Sleep, Piper."

"I'm just saying."

"Roddy, you are injured, sleep."

"I looked through your sketchbook earlier, y'know, when you were in the shower, just flicked through it, and wow, you're a great artist."

"For the love of God, Roddy! would you please just get some sleep."

"Alright!, alright. No need to yell."

"One more word and I'm chucking you out the nearest window."

We both fell silent and managed to get some sleep, it wasn't until sunrise that either one of us awoke. As I stirred from my slumber I was face to face with the Scottish idiot. I yelped and, without realising his legs were intertwined with mine, fell off the bed with him falling on top of me, waking Roddy up in the process.

"Oh, well, morning sweetheart, did I wake ya."

"Rod, get ya damn 'Loch Ness Monster' away from me."

Rod's cheeks turned pink and he quickly looked down between our bodies before sheepishly standing up and hurrying to the bathroom, I took the chance to change into a graphic tee and some black jeans, not noticing that Piper had left the bathroom door wide open, until I heard his voice.

"Woah, so uh, all of you is bigger than normal?"

I yelped and threw one of my shirts at his face, before realising that I had thrown the shirt I was planning on wearing at him, "Wait, Roddy, I need that shirt."

He laughed before handing me back my shirt, "Uh, thank you … for …saving me last night."

"Were you even supposed to be in town?"

"Well no, but I …" He trailed off

"I can't hear you, Roddy?"

"It's nothing, really."

I continued on with my normal routine, mindful that Roddy was in the same room as me and injured. It wasn't until the phone rang that I had a problem, before I could reach the phone Roddy had already answered it.

"Who is this?"

I could hear a loud, angry voice on the phone and Piper got defensive.

"You think you're a hard man do ya?!"

Damien. That's got to be Damien, which means I am in some real trouble now. Thanks Piper, ya dafty.

"I'll get her to call ya back once you've calmed down."

He slammed the phone back into it's place and breathed out a hefty sigh.

"Kirby, is Damien your boyfriend?" He seemed instantaneously calm

I almost choked on air for a moment, "No! He's my manager, and he's like double my age. He's Vic," I paused for a moment, "He's my dad, as well as the other members of the D.O.D. We're not all his biological daughters though, just Vickie."

"So, he adopted you?"

"I guess you could say that." I avoided looking him in the eyes.

"Tell me the truth. Now!"

"Promise you won't tell anyone first."

"I won't tell a soul, now, why are you so, uptight, about who he is to you."

"First things first, my name isn't Kirby Lucifarian, it's actually Kirby Trevor."

"Oh, so Damien's not you're adoptive father, either?"

"No, my real parents are Heaven and Eric Trevor. Damien's Vickie's dad and only Vickie's dad."

"Are either one of your parents giants? or is it just you?"

"Just me, the closest person to me in height, family-wise was my uncle Rory. He's the reason I have the tattoo on my wrist."

I walked up to Piper and showed him the 'R' tattooed on my right wrist.

"So, he passed away?"

"Yeah. He died, eleven, no no, twelve years ago now, when I was Seventeen, My uncle Vaughn died a couple months later, he's why I have the lighter on my left arm, my uncle Vaughn was best known for being, in the nicest terms, a layabout smoker, and the smoke took him in the end."

"So, you have a lighter to remember a man who died by smoking?"

"Dark, I know, but uncle Vaughn would've laughed at it. Erik laughed at it when I explained it to him."

"Eric, your dad?"

"No, no, Erik, with a 'K', my old tag partner before I joined the D.O.D. I think you would've liked him."

"Really, now why would I like a guy I know nothing about?"

"Well, Erik's Scottish, He's from Edinburgh. He's tall-ish, then again I am a giant, so who am I to say what's tall, he's six-foot-five. He played the bagpipes when he was younger, he quit playing when he was twenty-three, same year we lost the tag titles."

"Rough," He interrupted "Continue, please."

"Uh, well. Erik's strong, very strong, he would compete in the Highland games and well, … I guess back then I thought I'd never leave him, until Damien gave me an offer I couldn't refuse and I left him. I had a whole life with him planned inside my head and I left it all behind, for what, cramped hotel rooms and breakfasts with André."

"You had breakfast with André the giant and you didn't tell me … You, You had a good Scottish man, and you left him, for," He gestured to the room, "all this?"

"Well I jus-"

"No," He held my jaw and looked me straight in the eyes, "You had a life, a man who obviously a close relationship with you, and you gave it up for breakfasts with André and shitty hotel rooms."

"I know I'm stupid."

"But you're not stupid, you saved me, I could have died in that hallway and you brought me in here, you stopped that bastard from killing me. I could kiss you."

"Please don't."

Sorry for cliff-hanger ending, but … END OF BLOODY, BEATEN, BRUISED or MAXIMUM EFFORT.

#Lucifarians #wrestling fic

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thomasstalsworth · 3 years

Text

Over the River and Through The ...

[Prior]

The second time, it was his hearing.

Moray groaned, and before he could even feel or understand that he had done so -- he heard himself. That low-belly roar of discontent that spoke to a desire to bludgeon anything nearby. And indeed, whatever was nearby seemed to have taken the hint, because he heard scuttling footsteps moving distinctly away from him.

But the scuttling had the sound of boot-heel and wood. That must mean he had not dreamt his prior awakening, and was indeed still aboard the mysterious barque. With a great strength of spite to buoy his motive, his willed his eyes open.

And saw a skeletal face staring down at him from a few paces away.

“.. Whoa! Whoa now, don’t give me that look. I’m not the one who woke up about eight-tenths too early on the voyage, alright? You’re the mealy son of a barnacle that can’t just take a nap, mate.”

Immediately, Moray rammed two fingers against his throat and swallowed -- but to no sensation. That is to say, no sensation either in swell of throat and saliva nor blood. He had felt the same many times before, doing the diligence of his post, as a First Mate should, when dredging up the drowned. Check the pulse, feel for the throat, pace the temperature and see if there’s a chance of saving.

There wasn’t any. He was dead.

The skeletal captain took another couple of paces back, hands raised in supplication. “Look, I realize this is probably not what you were hoping for after-life-wise, but I promise it gets better. Again, you really weren’t supposed to wake up yet. Generally speaking I prefer to let folks get their rest on the voyage over. Plenty of work to be done later and -- alright, probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. Again, usually you’re asleep right now. You definitely deserve the rest! Burning alive? I mean, wow. What a way for a sailor to go right? Kind of ironic if you think about it and … “

The skeleton paused in his rambling. It caused the deck of the ship to go ghostly silent. Appropriate, Moray thought in what vague sense of present mind he yet retained. Both unliving creatures stared at each other, and it was only then that Moray thought to look down at himself. Was he nothing but but bone and bare sinew as well?

… No, he was not. Although he was slightly more transparent than he remembered.

“.. You’re going through the ‘what kind of dead do I look like’ phase, right. That comes on pretty quick. Normally you’d be on a nice sandy beach, or on the pier, when those thoughts hit. But I guess you’re used to introspection on the main deck, right? Career sailor.”

Finally, Moray found it in himself to speak. The thought briefly terrified him to an extent he did not take any care for. There was a moment where he was concerned that whatever left him in this … state … would not be something he recognized.

“What the fuck is this?”

.. Ah, no. He still sounded the same as he remembered. That was something, at least.

The captain, bone and sinew and barnacle as he was, clacked his teeth together and nod.

“That seems like a fair question. I won't hold the foul language against you, mate. You’ve got kind of an awful hand stuffed in your drawers, so I’ll let a few swears slip.”

All around them still lay a perpetual fog. He took a glance around as the captain spoke, noting that it was all as he recalled from his earlier .. wakening. The vessel was true and sure, if old. A barque of some masterful make, riddled with the markings of many voyages. In truth? He found it quite comforting. If this truly was the afterlife, than he could think of few places more suitable or appropriate for him than the deck of a ship. Although it did beg many questions.

He looked back to see the captain already moving toward the helm, up the groaning stairwell of the port-side quarterdeck. Out of instinct if nothing else, he followed. The process was quite easy, he noted carefully. There was no familiar pull of muscle. Surely, some vague memory and vestigial sense of what he should be feeling was there. But while his legs part and placed as they had for decades prior, and his sea legs were still yet as keen as they’d ever been, he did not truly feel his thighs flex, or his calves press to surmount the stairs.

That would take getting used to. He only had eternity to adjust, after all.

The ship was entirely devoid of other .. ‘life’ .. for lack of better phrasing. It was only he and the skeletal captain -- what was his name again? ‘Bartlett’. He remembered that much before everything had gone black again. He resolved not to repeat that particular action. Fainting was hardly becoming of any sailor, much less one now settled to what looked like a damned afterlife.

He refused to consider the fairness, or unfairness, of where he was. Nothing to be done about it now.

At the helm, the captain turned about to face him. If a skeleton could grin sidelong, Bartlett did. His face -- what there was of a face, truly just bone and glowing sockets -- tilt underneath the boon of his tricorne and gazed at Moray. He didn’t find it as unsettling as he would have imagined. For a skeletal captain of what looked like his assigned life beyond life, the ‘man’, Bartlett, appeared quite … relaxed.

“Right. So, we’ll have to expedite the usual warm welcome. -- You are Emett Moray, son of Elizabeth and Montgomery Moray. Dedicated sailor. Naval instructor in the Wrynn military. Admiralty cadet. Chief petty officer first class under the Proudmoore expedition to Kalimdor. Aide to the construction of what became Theramore Isle, before it was destroyed. -- Sorry about that. -- And eventual employee of the Anchor Trading Company. Also your first boff was a pretty, red-haired lass named Winona. I’m sure I’m missing lots of important details, but I assume that’s enough that we can both agree that I’m not fudging the numbers here and am, indeed, the caretaker of your everlasting afterlife. -- Savvy?”

Moray could do little but stare, and give a grunt of affirmation.

Bartlett nodded once in return, and gave the ship’s wheel a ‘tap-tap!’ with his bony digits.

“Perfect, so we’re on the same page. Glad to hear that. I appreciate you saving your inevitable existential breakdown for later on, that’s honestly really helpful right now. -- I’m Bartlett, some call me by the surname ‘Blightnerve’. It’s frankly quite demeaning, but what’re you gonna do? The worlds are cruel. To be succinct, I captain this here vessel and am entrusted to grant good and fair passage to the honorable dead of the sea.”

Moray grunt again, an affirmation of acknowledgement. But in truth? He was starting to look about. There had to be more than one avenue of information available, even in the world beyond. He had done his share of training, and practice in earnest, at being held by enemy forces on sea and on land. Obey, abstain from overt action, and remain perceptive.

There was nothing but impenetrable fog beyond the vessel. He had already ascertained the make of it, although he did not yet know for certain what complement it bore beneath the main deck. This was the afterlife, it seemed. Who knew how spatial dynamics actually functioned when you were no longer constrained by such simple concepts as ‘time and matter’. He did not yet know. This could all be a test by the Tidemother to earn his proper death, after all. Perhaps if he was able to determine the trick at play and avoid damnation then the Mother herself would appear off the port-side bow and smother him to his appropriate demise in her enormous bosom.

... It was as likely as anything else at this point.

All the while, Bartlett kept on talking as he fiddled with the ship’s wheel in courtesy of some sight unseen.

“... Now normally I only take those who die at sea, but exceptions happen all the time. Now that I think about it, I really ought to stop calling them exceptions with the regularity of it … Basically, I take those who lived good lives in earnest connection to the sea. It used to be a really easy gig, honestly -- but things got a little .. uh, off lately. But hey, that’s nothing for you to worry about! We’ve got a bit of a voyage ahead because, again, you woke up early, but that’s no problem. You’re used to being on a ship, aren’t you? Simple! .. I’ve never actually had a crew aboard with me for the .. you know .. ‘sailing’ part, but we’ll figure that out. It’s not like you’ll get scurvy or anything, right? Haha! .. Because, as you’ve deduced, we’re both dead.”

Moray turned back to stare at him.

“Okay. Tough crowd, that’s alright. We can work on our interpersonal relationship later. Right now, it’s probably best if you just take awhile and get situated. Get used to your incorporeality and all that. Fog’ll be up for awhile so don’t worry about -- “

The ship jerked to one side, as if it had struck an iceberg. Even in the world beyond, unliving, Moray’s feet shift naturally to accommodate a swelling sea -- real or not. Speech was yet unfamiliar in his spectral throat, but he called out on instinct to the ‘captain’. … The captain, not his captain.

“-- What was that?!”

Bartlett dropped his bony jaw down, aghast. Somehow his brow, borne of nothing but kelp, gristle and calcium, managed to fall down in irritation. Both of his bony hands grasped the ship’s wheel with a fury.

“Are you kidding me? Of all the times!? -- I swear I had the course set AROUND the damn river!”

The barque jerked again, almost turning the main deck thirty degrees off center. Were it not for his intuition, Moray would have been hurled off the quarter and over the starboard side and into whatever unyielding abyss there was past the curtain of fog. But he did not have to wait long to learn what it was that yet lay beyond that precipice.

Bartlett howled once in a shrill tone that seemed to give the vessel to rising. Without crew or hand to trim, the barque obeyed the skeleton’s command. The unseemly fog part and revealed --

Had he any blood left in his veins, it would have ran cold.

Moray grasped at the port-side railing of the quarterdeck, staring off into the abyss beyond the ship. They were sailing over a vast nothingness, a resonance of energy that ran like ethereal water between motes of light. What phlogistic mass it was that buoyed them, he did not know. But it was clear that Bartlett did, as he cocked and crowed and howled in tremulous voice riddled with the workings of bone. The ship answered every call, rising and falling, shifting course to obey the great flow of energy beyond the deck. Moray could hardly begin to understand what he was looking at.

But then there was, as he had heard called from the crow’s nest so many times in his life, ‘land ho’.

Off the port-side of the ship, there was an enormous Tower, looming as if the end of days. It was so very far, but yet remained a presence to obscure all others in potency. Chains in the interstitial sea were clear to see as well, even by naked eye unbidden by spyglass -- and Moray did, on instinct, reach for his belt where he had kept his spyglass in life. But he found he did not need it. His senses were not the same as they once were.

Around the Tower, there were discarded landmasses. Sheer and broken rocks, held together by chains of some metalwork yet unknown to him. Between the greatest of the masses, there was some kind of .. intense river. A frothing mass of spectral sight, consumed with churning threads which felt uncomfortably familiar, even at such a distance. But the draft of the river echoed out beyond the chains and blackened shards of rock. It was a terrifying sight. A hellscape, in earnest.

And they were skirting the edge of it.

Suddenly, Bartlett was howling -- but not to the ship, he was calling to him.

“-- Hey! HEY! You’re a sailor, right? Get on the mizzen boom! Come on, come on NOW!”

There was not much choice in the matter. They were hurtling through the ephemeral space toward the edge of the great river, swollen with phantasmal masses. He skid down from the helm, and drove down the stairwell in three steps. Lightness of foot was something he could never have boast of, with his frame and Kul Tiran blood -- ‘drustblood’ as they had called it when he was a boy. But now? He was as agile as any halfskipper made of slight bone and sinew.

The blocks were empty.

“Mizzen boom, NO ROPES!”

Moray shout against the howl of the vessel’s unearthly keel, calling as he was trained.

Up above at the helm, as he feverishly held the ship’s wheel against what looked to be a great force, Bartlett rolled the luminosity in his sockets.

“Yes, congratulations on the observation, mate! We don’t need rope where we’re going! Will the thing to work! You’re not alive anymore, the rules are different -- don’t question it!”

Moray slammed his eyes to and fro, staring between Bartlett as he fought at the helm and the churning river oncoming that threatened to pull them into it’s wake and throw them down into the middle of those chains, chewing rock, and toward the Tower …

“How in the five-bottomed hells do I do that!?”

Bartlett’s bones sounded in the din of it all, grinding and chewing in a pitch that was eerily close to the sound of dogs slavering over the same scrap of femur.

“Just make it work, sailor! Don’t question it!”

Bartlett heaved his entire body to one side of the ship’s wheel, holding as hard as he could to keep the damned thing from turning the rudder -- and them -- toward the river of souls.

“Don’t QUESTION IIIIT!”

Moray stared at the block and tackle, absent of rope. He was quite an adept and capable sailor, indeed a reasonable engineer if push came to shove in nautical endeavors. But he was no wizard, no sorcerer or conveyor of shifting digits, wiggling to produce effect from ephemeral. But --

What other option was there but to try?

And so he did. Moray heaved whatever presence of spirit he possessed, incorporeal in part as his body was. It took a moment, tugging and gristling his teeth in spectral maw, but he eventually called up … something … to answer his demands.

The blocks of the mizzens’ boom came alight with threads of otherworldly energy. Like a rope, but yet so far apart. He found, in that moment, that it didn’t matter. He heaved.

The ‘ropes’ held true, surging with some scrappling of energy that seemed to flow directly from him rather than anything else. Not the captain’s calls and whistles which buoyed the ship hither or thither; no, the ropes came alive of his own ghastly accord.

Convenient, if unsettling.

But there was no time for diatribe, discussion or philosophy. He could figure out what in the Tidemother’s left tit was going on at a later date -- if one ever came. He heaved, and heaved, and the effort finally bore fruit as he heard Bartlett scream down from the helm above. Moray had been so engrossed in trying to be the specter of the mizzenmast that he had not even seen them cresting the river of souls below.

But he felt it -- the keel of the ship bucked and quaked in argument, but held true.

Like a dark riverstone over bubbling waters, they skipped across the frothing current of the otherworld, screaming and begging souls briefly audible.

“.. For Azeroth! .. “

Some distant, keening cry was almost muffled by the river’s denizens. But they were already over it before even a piercing eye could try to look far, far down the flow to see what had brought the voice. It was deep, and powerful. In the wake of the voice, behind them, the river backflowed and roared with a seething, shadowy power.

They had crossed just in time, it seemed.

“WHOOO! What a play! What a play! We’re over the needle’s edge now, WOO! I can’t believe that worked, haha! Maybe I need to start skipping near to Gorgoa more often, that swell is gonna have us home in no time!”

The captain crowed from the helm, and seemed ajoyed of their daring flight. Moray’s mouth sauntered to side, and he could not find himself agreeing with the sudden joviality. What had just happened? What was that river -- and what Tower did it pass so near of?

The voices, all so brief, were not sounds he would soon forget.

But they were coursing strong, the sails filled with whatever phlogistic winds were surging in the otherworldly night. All around them, as the blackened stone, Tower and river behind were becoming little more than a blip in the non-existent horizon, there was darkness. A night sky of a different kind. He found it to be, oddly, not unlike the artistry and renditions he had read of in reference to the Twisting Nether. But there were no words for the colors he now saw.

Thin, stippling threads of graceful energy sunken to some dim blue, moving in helices. Bright motes which glimmered in varying hues as if trying to communicate, like some deep sea creatures innumerable. Driftwood of a different sort; hunks of stone and earth and swollen moss which were vast in their alien flora. A few even bore single specimens, an albinistic animal here or there, half-real, staring back at him before they would pass at-speed.

He had to pause, and take a step away from the edges of the ship. Back to the familiar.

But before he could really try and take stock of what had happened -- what was happening -- he heard Bartlett’s voice cry out from the helm once again. He looked back to behold the skeletal captain, and received a nod in tandem to his words, ushering him to look a-bow.

“That swell gave us a good speed. Take a look, mate, we’ve got you home ahead of schedule.”

And Moray looked where he was bidden, toward the bow of the ship -- ahead.

Through the churning sea of the afterlife, the in-between of realms made from all kinds and for all kinds, there was a single and minor port of harbour ahead of them. Truly, it was -- a breach in the darkness between ‘worlds’, swollen with the sunlight of late morning. A crescent island as any other he could have named from Azeroth, large enough to house a small, coastal township and a stalwart port with one singular, powerful dockhead.

It looked like paradise.

Bartlett rested against the ship’s wheel, the work of the voyage done as they sailed gently now toward the crescent of safe harbour before them.

“.. Welcome to Haven, mate.”

#canon #First Mate Moray #Bartlett Blightnerve

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the-cursed-prince-au · 5 years

Text

The Cursed Prince AU Novel: Chapter 3

The Cursed Prince AU Novel

Written By: Aayden (@Artistiarc)

Co-written By: Kieri (@blazian_scribbles)

Edited By: Ava(@askewdoodles), Melany (@nonsense.socialite)

Chapter 3: Smells Like a Dust Allergy

Roman hiked his way home, the idea of Patton befriending a dragon clouded his mind.

“Befriending a dragon...what a stupid idea. Doesn’t Patton know how dangerous those creatures are?” Roman sighed, frustrated with himself. He knew he was starting to fall for the dragon’s company as well. “Remember your training,” he mumbled to himself. “Don’t let your guard down and keep an eye on your target.”

“Well, how am I supposed to do that now?” Roman yelled to himself, rolling his eyes. “Maybe I should go back…” Roman bit his lip, turning around to go back to Patton. “But I can’t disobey the prince’s direct orders…” he countered, turning back around.

Roman gave a groan of frustration, pulling at his hair, feeling conflicted.

“Are you feeling adequate Princey?” A voice spoke up from nearby. Roman glanced up to see the general, leaning against a tree, a book in his hand as always.

“Oh! Logan...H-How long have you been standing there?” Roman rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Long enough,” Logan said, tucking his book between his arm. “Where’s Patton? I would have guessed you had enough time to retrieve him.” Logan raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“I-I- uh, You see, there was this village,” Roman stuttered out.

“Uh-huh?”

“A-And the village took Patton in because h-he was a prince and had gotten injured…” Roman rambled.

“Uh-huh,”

“And the village doesn’t allow outside knights or foreigners…” Roman struggled to put his sentences together.

“You’re a terrible liar Roman,” Logan said.

“What?!” Roman felt his voice rise an octave. “I’m not lying!”

Logan glared at him, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying not to knock off his glasses.

“First, you’re stuttering, you can barely put a sentence together, second, you refuse to look me in the eye.” At this Roman glanced away. “Third, you’re giving me vague information and fourth, I’ve known you long enough to know that you rub the back of your neck when you’re lying.”

“I-I...Oh, dear Joan…” The knight again rubbed the back of his neck. “Please don’t tell anyone about this Logan, I beg of you!”

“First you need to tell me what I’m not supposed to be telling anyone,” Logan said.

Roman took in a breath,

“OkaysoPattonbefriendedadragonandhedidn’tletmekillhimbecausehereallylikeshimandIdon’tknowwhattodo!”

“Roman! Calm down, speak slowly.” Logan struggled to calm him down.

Roman sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Patton made friends with a dragon…”

At this, Logan’s eyes widened, his fingers tapping on the book cover.

“Well, that was unexpected. Although with his personality, it isn’t unbelievable.” He shifted his gaze to look Roman in the eyes.

“However your behavior is more interesting. What could’ve happened to make you, a dragon slayer, defend such a creature? Your sworn enemy? That is odd and quite peculiar.”

The knight took in a huge breath.

“Well at first I saw it in the woods by a wild blackberry bush but I was busy looking for Patton so I didn’t want to get distracted, but then I saw the same dragon later in the woods with Patton so I followed it behind trees. Then it just vanished into thin air. So I wander- I mean followed its scent through the woods until I stumbl- er, found the dragon’s cave and I heard Patton screaming so I went in with my sword and tried to kill it. I got a few hits before Patton stopped me because the dragon was so scared of me,”

Roman fiddled with his cape while blabbering.

“and then the dragon tried to kill me by flying me really high up in its claws and then dropping me but then it caught me and brought me back to the cave. I made fun of its name and then it let me get close and pet it. A little after, we made a plan to keep it safe.” He felt his cheeks go red with embarrassment.

“Well now that I think about it, I don’t really have a good reason why.”

Logan stared at the knight, visually processing the information dump he had received. After a moment of Roman uncomfortably fidgeting, Logan started to walk away. The knight lunged after him in a panic.

“Oh, please General don’t tell anyone about this!” pleaded Roman, grabbing his arm.

Logan stopped walking and turned around, seeing the normally narcissistically-poised warrior in such a begging position. He tore his arm away and rubbed his temples for a moment, seemingly thinking about his decision.

“What kind of dragon did you see Roman?” He asked with a sigh.

Roman paused for a moment,

“Uh...I’m not exactly sure. He was big, with violet and black scales, and had the brightest brown eyes…” Roman thought to himself, as he described the dragon. He’d never seen a dragon with brown eyes before, usually, they’re unusual colors such as yellow or pink.

“Perhaps I have some books on the dragon you might have seen, we can study more about it in my office.” Logan turned away from Roman, walking in the opposite direction.

“B-But you’re not going to tell anyone right? You know how the villagers are! I’ll be marked as a traitor!”

“Ah, so you’re worried about your own skin and not the dragon’s?” Logan teased.

“Patton’s really fond of him…” Roman scratched behind his ear.

“I see- Very well, I won’t tell a soul. And besides, a live dragon to study, perhaps I should come with you the next time you return to see it!” Logan advised.

“Maybe…” Roman said, “He’s not a huge fan of visitors.”

Logan hummed in acknowledgment.

“Well, perhaps he’s just going to have to get used to us.”

Roman watched the army general walk away in the snow, before remembering he too needed to go back to the kingdom.

“Oh wait up!”

Logan and Roman walked back to their village, wide golden gates had marked their entrance into the town.

The kingdom was utterly astonishing. The pearl-colored buildings sparkled majestically in the sun and all around were golden leaves of some unknown plants. The residents of this unearthly village bustled around, minding their own business and politely greeting one another as they passed by.

It radiated an aura of peace and serenity as birds chirped to their families and the villagers diligently worked to gather food for a bountiful feast. The village huts smelled of damp wood and exemplify a modest lifestyle. Trees towered over the village rooftops, with their broad, green leaves providing shade from the radiant sun. Dirt pathways wound throughout the village providing passage throughout the town.

Roman and Logan greeted the villagers as they passed through the town. Roman smiled cheerfully and shook some of the villager’s hands. Roman always seemed to attract the children, who were fascinated by his armor and sword. Logan, however, remained stoic, nodding to the villagers as he walked past. They knew Logan as cold and calculated but Roman wished the villagers could see more than that. Throughout the years of their friendship, he caught glimpses of Logan’s emotions shining through. His little grin when he talked about something he was fascinated by, or his anger when Roman’s antics proved to be too much for the general/scientist. He wished the villagers could see Logan’s eyes light up when the farmers brought him fresh jam from their farm, or how he would laugh so subtly when Patton told a good joke.

There were a lot of things the villagers didn’t know about Logan and a lot of things he didn’t know himself.

The two men walked into the soldiers quarters, careful not to step on anyone’s possessions as they made their way to Logan’s office. The office was in a state of half organized clutter. His mahogany desk with three drawers on the right-hand side with papers scattered across the desktop. Candles sat unlit at the corner of the desk, their wax caught in a standstill.

Logan walked around the cluttered mess, sitting in his wooden chair as he flipped through one of his many books.

“Perhaps you saw something like this?” He turned the book towards Roman as the knight took a closer look. The dragon in the picture had purple scales and multiple horns jutting from its head. Its breath was said to gush acid.

Roman shook his head.

“No, that’s not him...” Roman said. The dragon in the photo had dark purple eyes, not like Anxiety’s brown ones.

Logan continued to show Roman photos and descriptions of dragons, to which Roman shook his head no to all of them. He sat back in his chair, re-reading the table of contents.

“How strange...I was sure it would be one of these.” His brow furrowed as the gears in his brain turned. Suddenly he slapped a hand down on his desk.

Roman jumped back in surprise.

“What?!”

Logan tried to hide the excitement in his voice. “Perhaps, you discovered a new type of dragon?”

Roman looked blankly at the general then shrugged. Logan sprung up from his desk and motioned for Roman to follow him. The two ran out of the quarters and down the streets, the knight’s armor clanking as he tried to wave at passing villagers.

“So where are we going?” Roman struggled slightly to keep up with Logan, who was not wearing armor.

“To the most important place in this kingdom!”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “We’re going to the bakery?!”

Logan managed to throw an eye roll behind his shoulder at him. “No, we’re going to the library.”

He turned the corner and stopped in front of the large wood-engraved doors.

Roman groaned. “Ugh, I haven’t been back here since last years exams.”

Logan paused right before opening the doors.

“Since last year? Then how did you complete the war strategy assignment from last week?”

Roman froze mid breath.“Oh wow look the library let’s go in.”

He rushed to the doors and pushed them open, revealing shelves upon shelves of books of every color and size. Logan walked past him, taking a deep breath in.

“Ah, smell that? What does that smell like to you?” Romans sniffed the air then coughed.

“Smells like I have a dust allergy.”

Logan sighed. “No, it smells like learn- whatever. Come over here.” He walked around to the back of the building, shushing young knights roughhousing at the tables. He led Roman to a shelf that looked different than the others. It was only three tiers high, compared to the other 12 tier bookcases. It had spiderwebs in one corner and a small flickering lamp on the floor beside it. He kneeled down to scan baren shelves. Of the fifteen or so books at eye level, Logan only took one. He looked at the spine before placing it back on the shelf- in a different place. Roman, confused, watched.

Logan felt his stare.

“It was in the wrong place. Someone reshelved it incorrectly.”

“Ah.”

Logan crouched even lower to scan the bottom shelf.

“Here it is.” He picked up a book covered in red leather. Roman peered over his shoulder and squinted at it. He thought he saw what seemed to be…

“Is that golden stitching? What is that book doing all the way down there?”

Logan turned around and pointed to the initials on the spine.

“Initials Z, Z. Alphabetical order. Really, it’s like you were sleeping through my workshops.” He stood up and motions to have Roman follow him to a table. They sat across from each other on the wooden benches. Logan rested the book down on the table and rummaged through his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the dust. Before he could, Roman leaned over putting two hands on the table and blew on the cover of the book, sending a cloud of dust into Logan’s face. The knight laughed at the general, who spat and cursed at him. Logan took the handkerchief in his hand and wiped his face.

“Real mature of you Roman.” He said with a growl. Logan opened the book and flipped through it. “This book is a full index of the rarest types of dragons. It has the locations of the dragons from the old world, a guide to history, a chart with biology and physiology, and in the limited pre-war edition, a chapter on how to train your dragon. Unfortunately, every copy with this chapter was burned or discarded by angry villagers. But,” He held up a finger and flipped to the last page. “The most important item in this book is the call number to another book containing the population levels of every dragon species in the area.” He pointed to it then shut the book, standing up to return it. Roman stood up as well, but not in Logan’s calm manner.

“Wait, we came all the way here to find a book that would take us to another book?” Logan kept walking.

“Yes.” He looked over his shoulder. “I thought you would appreciate the adventure.”

Roman followed him.

“I would hardly call this an adventure. More like the most boring scavenger hunt in the world.”

Logan reshelved the book- correctly, and walked over to one of the 12 tier bookcases. He faced Roman with his eyes closed.

“Roman, when will you learn that books can be just as thrilling as slaying monsters or bakeries.” He ran his pointer finger along the shelf, eyes still closed.

“In fact, if you came here often enough, you get a sense of the place, and can even find what you need without looking.” He smirked and stuck his pointer finger in an empty slot of the shelf. His eyes flew open and he jerked his head towards the gap.

“What?!” Logan ran back to the end of the bookshelf and checked the inscriptions. “W-Z, this should be it, I don’t understand.” He checked the gap and the books beside it, for the first time in his life, hoping it was misshelved. None of the books matched the orange leather cover he was looking for. He whispered to himself, inaudibly.

Roman put his hand to his ear, “What did you say?” Logan repeated himself, touching the empty slot.

“It’s not here.”

#General Logan #logan sanders #ts logan #Knight Roman #roman sanders #ts roman #sander sides #sanders sides #thomas sanders #Chapter 3 #The cursed prince AU novel #Cursed Prince AU Novel

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makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 240: PLIFF

Previously on BnHA: Shigaraki “Thanos” Tomura gleefully reduced an entire city to dust while laughing maniacally. You know, villain things. He almost turned Re-Destro to dust as well, but Re-Destro got around that by chopping off his own legs. Like it was no big. I still haven’t quite managed to process that yet. Anyway, so everyone was real impressed by Tomura at this point, because how could you not be, and to sum things up, Re-Destro basically accepted him as his lord and savior and handed the Meta Liberation Army over to him. So now Shigaraki Tomura, noted crazy person and heir to All for One’s empire, who has just upgraded his quirk so as to be able to destroy basically anything within an unknown range without even having to touch the thing directly, and who has also pledged to destroy the entire world, has an army. And he also has Gigantomachia, who was watching him all hearts-in-eyes while he did his thing. So all in all this has been a very productive arc for the League of Villains. And meanwhile, the League of Everyone Else may want to think about changing their name to “League of People About To Be Incredibly Fucking Screwed.”

Today on BnHA: The League of Villains, in what is clearly the best rebranding move since New Coke, renames itself the “Paranormal Liberation Front”, a.k.a. PLF, a.k.a. PLIFF because that’s what it instantly became in my head and you can’t stop me. Among PLIFF’s Finest is newly initiated member Hawks, whose mystery bag is finally confirmed to have contained exactly what we all thought it was going to contain. I don’t even want to talk about that. I’m still in denial. But also weirdly thrilled. I’m terrible. Anyway, so Hawks is all “:) we’re fucked,” agreeing with the consensus the general fandom has come to over the past week, and palling around with his new best friend Dabi as he frantically tries to come up with some kind of plan. Maybe the heroes can try rebranding themselves as “the Supernatural Emancipation Cavalry.” That wouldn’t really solve anything, but it’d be funny to watch the villains come to realize they’re being mocked. Sorry but y’all brought this on yourselves.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

so I received an ask from a very kind anon warning me to be careful of spoilers for this chapter. thank you, anon! rest assured that I have been very cautious, and am pleased to inform everyone that I’m diving in spoiler-free this week. so bring on your Kacchan hero names, your Best Jeanist heads, your new Deku quirks, and whatever other twists you want to toss my way, manga. but especially that first one. this arc has been fantastic, but now that it’s wrapping up, I miss my kids and I would like to check in with them soon. they grow up so fast and time is precious

so apparently the title for this chapter is “Power”, which could mean lots of things, but I imagine it’s not something that bodes well for our heroes. honestly does anything bode well for them at this point. they’re not having much luck on the boding front

oh cool, a time jump! so this is apparently now one week after “the deadly battle.” wow, way to sum everything up in the blandest terms possible while still being accurate. like, yeah, that is what it was, but somehow it doesn’t quite communicate the full magnitude of what actually went down, you know?

anyway so the town basically looks like it got hit by a fucking meteor

new crack theory that a time-traveling Shigaraki Tomura is what actually killed the dinosaurs

wow would you fucking look at this

I guess this is the BnHA version of “an unfortunate training exercise”

also I like how they didn’t think it would be believable that one sleepy boi could cause all of this destruction, so they amped it up to twenty fucking guys instead. sob. why did they even bother giving Tomura an army. he is an army

lol the bullshit continues

“reporting to you live from Deika City, an innocent and wholesome country town in no way affiliated with an extreme right-wing quirk supremacist movement, where citizens recently found themselves victims of an entirely unprovoked attack by no fewer than twenty, and definitely more than six, villains. the brave citizens proceeded to fight them off, and definitely killed them all and didn’t surrender to them and elect their leader as their new god. also the president of Detnerat just happened to be there. just coincidentally. he definitely was not the one who instigated the entire thing. when asked for comment, Mr. Yotsubashi responded, quote, ‘nonsense, I’m no hero. would you call a man a hero just because he fought off an army of villains alone and selflessly sacrificed his own legs to ensure that justice prevailed? would you call that heroic? poppycosh. that’s just the kind of man I am. I wouldn’t call myself brave. ‘humble,’ maybe. ‘handsome’, perhaps. but a hero? no. I’m just an everyday, all-around good type of person, that’s all.’ so there you have it. truly a courageous figure. a gallant example of truly stellar fortitude and virtue. we need more Yotsubashi Rikiyas in these trying times. back to you, Jeff”

anyway, so the media in BnHA. fairly gullible, huh?

so now the report is concluding with a statement that the investigation is still ongoing. uh huh. damn they really got away scot-free with all this, huh

and we’re cutting to a close-up of sushi! oh my god. Compress have your dreams finally come true at last

yesssss oh my god. I’m so happy for him

(ETA: on my second read-through I paid attention to try to see whether or not Compress had finally gotten a new robot arm, but it’s impossible to tell. he’s only using his right hand here, and later on when he goes on stage with the rest of them he’s wearing his usual trenchcoat and gloves. I’m just gonna assume he finally got the upgrade he wanted, though. nice to see you so content, Mister I-Ran-Around-A-Lot.)

excuse me, what, Dabi? he didn’t even do anything?? as opposed to you, who basically just set yourself on fire and glared at Frogurt for half a dozen chapters?? don’t hurt yourself climbing back down from that high horse you punk

lol what

I don’t even have to scroll down to the rest of this page to immediately know this is some bullshit. she’s not dead. out of everyone in the League she’s probably third most important after Tomura and Mr. You-Didn’t-Even-Do-Anything above. her quirk is too plot-critical for her to actually be dead. you’re not gonna kill off the ONLY GIRL IN THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS, either. Horikoshi who do you even think you’re fooling

ah, yep

Togaaaaaaaaa omg. I’d hug you but you’d stab me. but I’m so happy to see you my precious baby girl

and it actually makes sense for Twice to be mourning the clone, though, and I’m glad they showed it. because he of all people understands that the clone is the person to at least some degree. like, it’s nice that he doesn’t just view them as disposable and he respects them. he’s so nice omfg

anyway so it looks like he’s back to being crazy though

oh well, it was nice while it lasted. at least he doesn’t appear traumatized anymore. and he has a boyfriend now too. where is Giran anyway

now fucking Skeptic is walking in like he’s on the set of a fucking sitcom

[canned audience laughter]

nice touch on the following page with Hanabata starting to refer to Re-Destro as “The Supreme...” before catching himself and amending it to just “Re-Destro”

oh wow

damn, LoV, y’all went from poverty straight to the .01%. talk about an upgrade

oh my god there’s a secret passage

oh my god it leads to a secret basement

trying not to think about the last time we were in a secret villain basement. this isn’t like that. relax. that arc is over now. deep breaths

holy shit

this is like the fucking Mines of Moria. complete with a Balrog. jesus christ

omg look who got himself a BRAND NEW SUIT AND TIE ENSEMBLE oh shiiit

is that a fucking fur-lined coat. Shigaraki Tomura has officially upgraded to KHR Villain status. what a little shit. I adore you, you son of a bitch

and I thought he destroyed all the hands?? come on dude, I know it’s like your signature look, but I was hoping we were going in a different direction from here on out. ah well

wow, Horikoshi

just once. just once I would like this man to leave a plothole unaddressed for more than one page. god I love this manga

anyway so they’re fully lampshading the fact that this one hand somehow miraculously survived, and they’re all “I guess it’s his trademark, huh?” yep, that’s right. his lewk. now be quiet, you two. which of us is doing the recap here

so now RD is up on stage showing off the weirdest fucking wheelchair I’ve ever seen, and singing Tomura’s praises

it’s remarkable how quickly his ego adapted to his brand new role as head of Tomura’s PR. he almost seems to be enjoying this more than when he was the leader

oh shit??

A NEW NAME?? oh my god. edge of my seat. can’t wait. take it away boys

LOOOOOOOL what

sob this makes it sound like they do ghost investigations. is there a League of Villains Buzzfeed Unsolved AU. this is what happens when you put the otaku in charge of the name

just. why paranormal. they thought it sounded cool?? and am I really supposed to type out PLF and not pronounce it like “pliff” in my head moving forward?? yeah, that’s not happening. you guys are now PLIFF. congratulations

thank god they’ve still got Tomura to lend legitimacy to this whole ridiculous operation. god, there’s something I never thought I’d say. Tomura why are you now the part of the League -- excuse me, PLIFF -- that I actually take the most seriously. god

y’all heard the man. whatever we want. this is happening. just remember kid, you gave me permission

holy shit you guys is that motherfucking Carvel!?!? I was staring at the panel all “WHO IS THIS” and wondering if they’d somehow brought Kizuki back to life, oh my god. I’m fucking dying send help. he looks like Galaxy Express 999. my brain is short-circuiting

anyway so everyone is all HOORAY WE LOVE THIS and they’re all cheering

HOMBGLKDF

DSLFKSHDLGK HEY BOY, HOW ARE YOU LIKING BEING A MEMBER OF THIS NEW HERE VILLAIN CULT. WHERE’S THE FUCKING BAG, HAWKS

SDFKSJDLFKSDLKFH A FLASHBACK AHHHHHH

I CAN’T TURN THE PAGE OH GOD NO SOMEBODY ELSE DO IT

OH MOTHERFUCKING SHIT

my jaw just. fucking. -- -----------

okay Hawks. fucking explain. how did you do it. is it a fake?? surely it’s not the real deal?? oh god, the memes have now become terribly real. I have no choice but to embrace this with even more stupid jokes and memes as a coping mechanism or I’m gonna lose it

but for real, they didn’t seriously do my boy Jeanist like that. Paramount Optimal Jeanist did not survive a point-blank attack from motherfucking All For One just to get shanked by Hawks so that he could get good with PLIFF, only to be, and I quote, “too late...!”

(ETA: and on readthrough #2, Dabi does indeed bring up the fact that this might not actually be Jeanist’s corpse. “setting aside the issue of whether he is who you say he is...” so even he acknowledges that shenanigans could be afoot.

but he seems convinced it’s a real body at the very least. though did it never occur to you that he could have just picked it up from the morgue, dude? that’s gonna be my go-to theory for now at any rate.)

is now a good time for me to bring up something I’ve been wondering about for a while, which is how Bakugou is going to take this? yes, Bakugou. “okay makeste, I know he’s your favorite and I know you miss him, but what kind of mental cartwheels are you doing in order to make this situation with Hawks and PLIFF somehow relate to Bakugou Katsuki, whom we last saw twenty fucking chapters ago, and who has absolutely nothing to do with this?”

well I’m glad you asked, and you see, it’s because (a) the internship, and (b) because we already know Katsuki blames himself for at least one hero’s downfall as a result of what happened in Kamino, and I could easily see him having a similar response to Best Jeanist’s injury and subsequent disappearance. like, we already know this shit is all over the news. and Bakugou knows Jeanist personally. and so now what with him being missing, I can’t help but wonder if he’ll blame himself again for being the reason Jeanist was there at Kamino, and lost a lung, and so forth

and I realize this tangent is coming sort of out of left field, but seeing as this arc is finally wrapping up, and we can expect to cut back to the U.A. kids again soon, I just figured I’d bring it up now, because we’ll see if I’m right or not shortly

anyway. so let’s get back on topic. best dead Jeanist. oh god

but it seems like it did, at least, finally convince Dabi of Hawks’s sincere villainous intentions. so we have that one minor win, I guess. congratulations Hawks, now you know about the secret villain basement and their new rebranding. was it worth it you bastard

oh shit. actually, maybe it was. because now he understands just how incredibly screwed they are sob

so he doesn’t know for sure about the Noumu yet. so Tomura still has that little ace up his sleeve. fucking great

but him knowing about the Detnerat thing is big, though. so now the heroes know not to trust any of their equipment, or any of their lackeys like fucking Slidin’ Go. that’s something, at least

and you gotta love the whole “equal to, if not greater than” bit, sob. never in my life have I ever seen something so egregiously understated. “Shigaraki might be more powerful than the heroes at this point” yeah, you think!? god

holy shit Re-Destro calm the fuck down

Tomura’s telling him to get lost, and he’s immediately making himself scarce lol. good riddance

and Tomura is now kneeling dramatically and pounding his fist on the floor. okay

hey

I take offense, sir. “League of Villains” had a timeless air about it. and more importantly, you couldn’t abbreviate it to the sound that someone makes when they plop down tiredly onto a couch

oh shit!!!!

THIS LAST PAGE HAD BETTER BE A TERRIFYING PANEL OF THE HIGH END NOUMUS, OMG. I’M HOLDING MY BREATH

GODDAMMIT IT’S JUST ANOTHER SEXY CLOSEUP OF TOMURA’S FACE

I mean, can you actually call it that at this point? can you actually “grant” something to someone if they already have more of it than they know what to do with?

but I mean, we know what he really means though, so fair enough

oh ffs now he’s saying “but first there’s something I’d like you to do for me” oh my god enough with these side quests!

he wants him to transport something, apparently. ARE YOU HATCHING SOME NEW SCHEME oh gosh

oh my god and meanwhile Hotwings is becoming canon right before our eyes holy shit

of course!! he’s fucking thrilled!! everything is just!! so great!! right now!! :)!!!!!

oh my god Hawks

“Endeavor, and everyone” I see what you did there kid

(ETA: and as far as I recall, Endeavor doesn’t even know about his undercover mission yet. I wonder how he’s going to react when he finds out. your adopted son is now best friends with your presumed-dead son! and in mortal danger omg.)

wow. wow. and that’s the end of the chapter. fucking shit

so! lots to process! Hawks really did it! the absolute madman!! and Dabi fucking loves him now, which is great, if you like things that inevitably end in tragedy. then that’s great for you. but otherwise I guess it’s not so great

so I wonder if our next arc will be the Undercover Hawks Antics arc, or if we’ll be getting back to Deku and the gang. I’m guessing the latter because it’s been a while, but it’s definitely exciting to see this particular plotline finally advancing and becoming more intricate

so basically I have no idea what to expect next week. which is amazing. I’m so fucking excited. now if Horikoshi could just leave us all a little pity disclaimer clarifying that no Jeanists were actually harmed in the making of this chapter and that it was all CGI or some shit, that would be great :/

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 240 #best jeanist #hawks #shigaraki tomura #league of villains #excuse me -- pliff #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #so. hawks #like do you ever just straight up refuse to believe a guy is capable of murder #just because he's so handsome and charming #hawks: 'so anyway here's a bag with the remains of the man I killed inside'#me: 'nah you didn't kill anyone'#hawks: 'literally you saw me corner him in his apartment and draw a weapon and now I'm presenting you with a body and saying I did it'#me: 'nope. clearly there's some other explanation'#I'm joking but I'm also deadly serious lol #he's too soft. he pretends like he's not but he is!#mofo is out here feigning being all hardcore #but dammit we know the truth #anyways #rip to whoever's corpse that actually is #jeanist you punk I hope you're enjoying yourself wherever you are

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little-mad · 5 years

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First Hunt

“Of all the days for this to happen.” Tara thought to herself grimly as she trudged through the giant foliage.

Every human knew crossing into giant territory alone was a bad mistake, and Tara was no exception. However she had been convinced that it would be a quick trip. She had just needed to gather an herb that could only be found across the border. The plant was such a short ways into giant territory, it seemed silly to make a big fuss out of the affair.

Unfortunately Tara hadn’t been expecting the appearance of a giant wolf. The monstrous creature had chased Tara deeper into the immense forest. By the time she finally lost the damn thing, she had found herself horrifically lost in the dense woods.

Worse than being lost and alone in giant territory, was being lost and alone on this day. It was a day humans knew well, a day all were warned to keep away from the border.

Every year giant youths took part in a ritualistic event to represent their passage into adulthood. The youthful giants would scour the woods in search of human trespassers. The giants called it the First Hunt. The rumor was that any human caught was to be eaten on sight, though no one could confirm or deny it, as none who had been captured during the First Hunt had ever returned to tell the tale.

Just as these haunting thoughts began to fill Tara’s mind, a deep, thunderous thud shook the earth beneath her feet. The first thud was followed by another, and another. “Footsteps.” Tara breathed, her voice shaky.

With the gigantic footsteps approaching nearer and nearer, Tara’s innate instincts began to take over. Desperately she sprinted towards a vast shrub, shoving past the sharp branches to bury herself deeply among the leaves.

Tara’s heart hammered wildly in her chest as a massive shadow suddenly fell over her hiding place. “That smell…” She heard a young man’s voice wonder aloud. Tara’s blood ran cold as realization hit. She had always thought the rumor that giants could sniff out humans was nothing more than an old wives’ tale, told to children to discourage any curious adventures into giant territory. Now it seemed the myth held a terrible truth to it.

The shadow above Tara shifted and she heard a loud rustling of fabric. The next thing she knew an unimaginably massive hand had effortlessly shoved its way through the shrubbery, reaching blindly for its prize.

The hand inched closer and closer to where Tara cowered at the center of the bush, she knew it was only a matter of time before it reached her. The giant showed no signs of stopping, clearly determined on finding the source of the smell he had caught wind of.

Tara backed as far from the intruding hand as possible while remaining in cover. She peered through the leaves in search of an alternate hiding place. Her eyes desperately scanned the terrain until they landed on a tree several feet away. There was a small crevice at the base of the tree that appeared just big enough for her to be able to squeeze into.

Not one to remain a sitting duck, Tara darted out from her hiding spot and into the open. Adrenaline flooded her system as she tore full speed through the massive blades of grass. She heard a shout of surprise from behind her but she didn’t slow, her entire focus devoted to reaching that tree.

Tara was a mere foot away when she was stopped by enormous fingers wrapping around her body from behind. A sharp shriek flew from her mouth as she was effortlessly whisked into the air. Before she could properly process what was happening, Tara found herself being held in front of her giant captor’s face.

As expected the giant was a young man, surely no older than nineteen years old. He had a mess of light brown hair and a pair of deep green eyes that bore into Tara.

“Wow.” The giant breathed, the air breezing Tara’s hair around her face. “I’m actually holding a human right now.” He remarked, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Tara’s heart climbed into her throat at the sight of the massive teeth.

To Tara’s dread, the giant brought her closer to his face, eyes drinking her in as though they couldn’t get enough. “You...you’re even smaller than I imagined.” He said, voice filled with wonder.

Tara felt as though she wanted to say something, to plead for her life, but her mouth seemed incapable of forming words. She was frozen in fear inside this predator’s fist.

The giant’s expression shifted into something unreadable as he seemed to remember something. He looked away from Tara for a moment. The fingers surrounding her twitched uncomfortably, and when he had turned back to her he wore a look of uncertainty on his face. “I-um...I-uh guess I have to eat you now…” Tara’s heartbeat stuttered, any remaining color draining from her face. It seemed that rumor had proven true as well. It was too bad she wouldn’t live to tell everyone back home about it.

Suddenly the grip around Tara’s body was shifting. Rather than holding her in a fist, the giant now had his index finger and thumb pinching Tara’s waist. He lifted her higher into the air, stopping only once she was positioned directly above his now wide open mouth.

Tara’s stomach churned at the sight of the dark, gaping abyss below her. She pulled her legs up as high as possible, desperate to distance herself. “Please don’t!” She finally managed to cry out, tears beginning to prick at the corners of her eyes.

The fingers holding Tara stiffened. A moment passed and then to her relief the giant closed his mouth. An undignified squeak escaped Tara as the enormous fingers once again shifted around her, moving to hold her in a fist once again.

“H-hey come on, don’t sound so scared.” The giant stammered awkwardly.

A spark of sudden rage and courage ignited in Tara. “You’re going to eat me, what do you expect?!” She demanded, struggling fruitlessly against the firm grip surrounding her body.

To Tara’s surprise, the giant’s face turned a vibrant shade of red. With his free hand he rubbed at the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I...I suppose that’s fair.” He mumbled, then paused for a moment. “I just don’t think I’m really cut out for this whole eating humans thing.” He finally admitted.

Tara’s eyes went wide. From everything she had heard about giants, none of it pointed to them having any sort of moral compass. They were supposed to be monsters, pure and simple.

The giant let out a long sigh that blew the hair back from Tara’s face. “You don’t have to worry anymore, I’m not going to eat you.” He promised, a soft smile forming on his face.

Before Tara could wonder whether or not this was some kind of trick, the sound of approaching giant footsteps filled the air.

Suddenly Tara found herself being dropped back onto the ground, the giant’s face looming above her. “I’ll lead them away, stay hidden.” He told her hurriedly before rising up to his full height and walking in the opposite direction.

Tara hesitated only a moment before squeezing herself into the crevice hidden at the base of the tree’s immense trunk. A few seconds later she heard the giant’s voice in the distance. “I already combed this area, there’s nothing here.”

A/N

So this is my first real attempt at a one-shot. I’m usually more of a novel writer, but I decided to give it a try. I got hit with something that inspired me to come up with this idea and just had to write about it!

Hope y’all enjoy it, feedback is always welcome!

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t writing #my writing

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chubbyooo · 5 years

Text

Blurred Lines chapter 16 - A Doubtful Retreat

we’re here with chapter 16 and we join Terri like 3 seconds after the end of the last chapter

Terri runs to alert her compatriots of trouble on top of the temple

Terri was quickly running out of breath as she frantically rushed through the halls of the temple. She had to alert Lusari and the Lady of the danger as quick as possible, but why was the alliance commander here this seemed rather above her station. She had just been fighting one of the most accomplished sith in the galaxy, she was lucky to be alive, but all the mercenaries were dead what was she going to do? Were they doing something wrong? no the commander was a sith she was probably just trying to stop their plan, that made sense right?

Her mind continued to race as she stumbled through the halls eventually making it to the main chamber. “Lusari, Lusari Lusari w-we uh gotta uh bad uh p- people uh” Terri began to fumble over her words as she tried to explain the situation.

Dammit she was incredibly tired and out of breath, Lusari quickly stood up turning to Terri “Terri slow down what’s going on?” her face was full of concern as she tried to calm Terri down.

“B-Bad guys o-outside uh we we gotta go right now” Terri was so glad she managed to get that established her head was pounding she felt like she had just run a marathon, she wasn’t very physically fit admittedly.

“well i’m sure we can take them how bad they could be?” Lusi looked very overconfident Terri had to make this situation clear

“no no v-very bad idea we absolutely cannot take them it’s the Alliance commander” Terri began to take some deep breaths this was a really hard way to explain. Lusari looked shocked and confused but before she could open her mouth the echoed voice of the Lady emanated from around the room

“She’s correct I can sense her presence we need to go right now” with that Lusi quickly picked up the holocron and grabbed Terri’s hand

“come on lets go” Terri nodded and Lusi pulled her out the back of the chamber by the arm. As they were about to turn the corner at the end of the passage way Terri felt a sudden blast of energy fly over her head with a resounding crack against the wall. As they turned the corner she caught a glimpse of the commander sprinting across the chamber. Oh no oh no oh no she was still after them what was she going to do, she felt herself being pull round corner after corner by Lusari each time the glimpse of the commander got a little longer. She had to do something soon she was going to catch them at this rate.

“come on Terri we’re almost to the speeders” Lusi shouted over her shoulder. Cmon Terri think think think what will slow her down as she pondered this question the sudden blinding bright light of the outside hit her eyes, OUTSIDE YES outside has obstacles barricades things to block the entrance. She focussed her mind reaching out with her remaining hand and letting go of her movement solely focussing on the area around her, she pinpointed every good obstacle she could find and focussed all her energy to move it in front of the entrance. As she opened her eyes she saw that the entrance was covered in rocks, branches and an assortment of plants, wow that really worked she didn’t really know how she did it. She stood there astounded suddenly feeling a lurch from her collar

“come on Terri we gotta go” right yes escaping that’s probably more important, she turned around and began to run by the side of Lusari. The speeders were just over the ridge they might make it

“I think I slowed them down we can make it” Terri said with a smile, Lusari smiled back as they reached their speeder bikes and quickly piloted them away from the temple

Later...

Terri’s head was spinning as she sat against the wall of the cave, rain pattering against the floor just a few meters in front of her. After they had escaped the temple they had found an inconspicuous cave to rest up for the night, Lusari was taking stock of what they had left and making sure the lady was comfortable. Terri had only just really comprehended everything that happened in there, it seemed crazy now like some sort of story she barely felt like she’d been there. That was the alliance commander, the outlander, Darth Nox probably the most high profile person they possibly could’ve ran into but why was she there? It had to be a coincidence right? they probably wouldn’t follow it up they had better things to do. But that wasn’t what bothered her, the commander wasn’t exactly evil so what did that make them? Terri just wanted to get away from the sith academy, this was all too much.

“hey Ter you ok?” Terri hadn’t noticed but Lusari had been standing over her for almost a minute, ok uh gotta look together and sure of yourself

“uh yeaaaaah i’m all ok Lusi just a little surprised” was that convincing? it didn’t feel convincing it felt stupid

“yeah i’m not surprised it’s not every day you go toe to toe with the alliance commander” Terri felt her cheeks grow warm suddenly

“I uh I didn’t go toe to toe with her I uh kinda got my arse kicked” Terri looked away from Lusari

“hey you’re still here I consider that toe to toe” Lusari sat down next to her as she talked “you’re a real cool force user now maybe too cool for me who knows maybe you’re the chosen one”

Terri giggled “shut up stop being silly you’re twice as cool as me miss ritual performer if anything you’re the chosen one” they both giggled as they poked fun, Lusi was pretty good at cheering her up maybe things weren’t so bad

As they chuckled to each other they heard the familiar echoed voice “ The alliance commander being here is a bad sign we may need to get the rituals done with less precautions” that didn’t sound good maybe it wasn’t a coincidence

“do you think she will follow us” Lusari looked worried but determined Terri wished she could get rid of her doubts

“hard to say at this point, i believe our encounter was somewhat a coincidence but backup isn’t going to help us here we need to avoid her so speed is key” Terri felt relived at that maybe it was just a coincidence, wrong temple wrong time and all that.

The lady seemed to know a lot about the commander? as she pondered Lusari spoke up “you seem to know a lot about the the commander my Lady, do you have a history?”

“I’m afraid so, i knew her a long time ago, she is surprisingly persistent but if we proceed as planned it won’t be a problem soon enough” phew soon enough they wouldn’t have to do so much work, it was exhausting.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Terri spoke up again “Lusari?”

“yeah Terri whats up”

“are we doing the right thing?” Terri had been wondering this for a while now but had been too scared to ask

“what do you mean” Lusari seemed confused, Terri knew Lusari was much more sure of herself than her but she hoped Lusi had considered that idea

“I dunno it’s just like everything after escaping the academy has felt kinda... sketchy” Lusari frowned a bit “I dunno there’s just so many blurred lines in what we’re doing” Terri looked down to the ground

“hey come on” Lusari lifted Terri’s face to her gaze “I know it may feel weird skulking around and keeping secrets but we’re doing it to not be found out by the bad guys. Unfortunately avoiding site from the bad guys normally means getting a little morally grey ourselves and yeah that does feel kinda shitty but we gotta do it if we wanna make things better for people like us” she always knew what to say that made so much sense “hey, soon enough we’ll be able to escape all this and we can start a new life as long as we do this one thing” Terri couldn’t wait

“yeah ok thanks” Terri smiled at her

“awesome see you in the morning” Lusari leaned in and kissed her on the forehead before turning over to go to sleep. what jus happened Terri felt extremely tense and she had no idea why. She was suddenly very awake, she felt an incredible tightness in her stomach while her brain tried to process what happened

“uh ah uh night” she said resting her head against Lusari...

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rxcusant · 5 years

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wow hey more peopled liked my hoshimeguri sora sketch than i thought so

Hey, who wants some context!!! and further rambling of the au!!! its all about traveling the stars and theres a dragon and everyone has beautiful designs and my faceclaim is an assassin in it

[its a little long tho because of the Lore (TM) so uh. fair warning]

Hoshimeguri, or Star Tour Observer, was an original event and storyline in IDOLiSH7 like 4 months ago? I think? anyway if you wanna get a little glimpse over everyone and the stars you can go right here but otherwise im gonna quick run thru everything cause i rly love hoshimegu (the PV is gonna pop up first you can either watch it and rock out to Hoshikuzu Magic or click out and skim thru everything)

the prologue for hoshimeguri is, as roughly translated,

in the beginning a myriad of stars crystallized into a form known as the ‘Star Gem’. The gem contained the power to grant any wish. People prayed to the Star Gem for blessings and obtained joy and fulfillment in their lives. People prayed to the Star Gem for evil purposes and brought about calamities. People grew covetous of the star Gem, breeding hate and resentment. The Star Gem that had granted millions of blessings had instead become a vessel for millions of curses. the Guardian of the Star Gem prayed for the Star Gem to be sealed away. The wish was granted the Guardian fell into eternal slumber. The Star Gem could no longer hold its form and split into six pieces. A single massive planet split into six with it. On the verge of sleep the Guardian created a being to oversee the worlds in his place. To journey across the stars, watching. the ‘Observer of the Stars’ bore witness to countless moments, countless stars, and countless lives.

so.. in less fancy speak, there was a Star Gem that granted wishes but people misused it’s power for Bad Stuff. the Gem’s Guardian sealed it away and the Star Gem split into six little gems-- and created the six worlds i’m about to explain-- and the Guardian pulled a ventus and fell asleep, but the last thing he did was make a cool dragon to observe and watch over life.

so this brings us to the six planets/worlds/stars one thousand years later!

First off-- Eterno! aka where I shoved Sora and Riku, ill expand on them later

Eterno is a desert star, covered in sand and sunlight. the planet Alba once waged war with Eterno to steal their sunlight a dozen years ago and drained the planet of its resources in the process. During the war the royal family disappeared so Eterno doesn’t have any ruler or security. Being a wasteland Eterno is considered a worthless star so nobody bothers or troubles it beyond some trading at the port.

Secondly we have Bestia!

Bestia is covered in dense forests and jungle, inhabited by several types of animals. The people of Bestia have beast blood and animal parts like ears and tails so this is basically the furry planet. the people of Bestia are looked down upon for this though. Bestia is home to a large trading port and many from starts all over come to trade in Bestian goods.

Next is Alba!

Alba is a star covered in darkness as the other planets block the sun’s ray from reaching them. Alba's main specialty is minerals and so bright crystals are their symbol. the former king invaded Eterno to steal their sunlight however the current king, Carnelian, regrets that war and would like to set things right between the stars.

Then we have Lama, the star of steel! i love Lama, two of my favorites are from this star!!!!!

Lama is a star with strong military power, easily overcoming the other stars in terms of strength. Lama is currently recovering from a long civil war between the former king and the people. The former king treasured military might and soldiers above all else-- in particular, those that could provide weapons for warfare. Anyone who couldn’t was subject to a life of poverty and servitude. Eventually the people rebelled an the civil war raged on for years. the prince at the time, Orion, with the help of an assassin, Erin, faked an assassination of the king (instead locking him up) and when the news reaches the rebel forces they called off their forces. The rebels had no issue with Orion becoming king since he carried out the assassin order and thus Orions peaceful reign as King began, working to rebuild relations between the people of Lama and the royal family.

next up is Sirenia! this is where i put Kairi, ill expand on that later.

Sirenia is blessed with water and canals everywhere. Every year they hold a festival to celebrate the rainy season. The people of Sirenia are relaxed and laid back because their star hasn’t been attacked or invaded in many years (with the former king using most of his power to essentially cut off Sirenia from the other stars with a magic wall, and trading was regulated). The residents love the arts and music and living life freely and creatively. The residents also practice in hydromancy, using water to predict the future and learning tarot cards and fortune telling.

Lastly is Mistero which i admittedly remember the least about

Mistero is a mysterious star but faith in the Star Gem is strong. There exists a large temple on the star however divine energy prevents people from entering. Mistero was the original planet before the planet and Star Gem split into six pieces. Its on this world that the Guardian, Vega, still sleeps. His attendant, Capella, still waits for him to wake.

aaaaaaand those are the stars! oh my god that took an hour to type. WELL SINCE THIS IS ALREADY REALLY LONG WINDED I’LL TRY TO KEEP THE AU WITH SORA AND RIKU AND KAIRI BRIEF EVEN THO IM SURE THATS WHAT YOU’D BE HERE FOR INSTEAD OF IDOL JUNK djfgnks

i dont have anything concrete but my current concepts are-

Sora and Riku grew up on Eterno together. Having known about the existence of other stars but always being too young to travel themselves the two decided one day to leave and explore them all together. Eventually the day came where the two of them snuck onto a ship, not entirely sure where it was headed. Once the ship docked on Sirenia Sora and Riku made a break for it, not wanting to be discovered as stowaways.

Kairi lives a carefree life on Sirenia with her friend Namine and instructor Aqua. Aqua teaches the girls hydromancy altho Namine holds more of an interest in drawing and painting. Kairi however is extremely skilled in hydromancy and one day receives a sign about dual forces about to enter her life. She doesnt know what to make of the vague message tho and puts it to the back of her mind for a week maybe.

And then came the day she ran into Sora and Riku. the two of them stuck out like a sore thumb in their Eterno attire. Kairi warned them about how trade and visitors are carefully regulated and any intruders aren’t to be taken lightly. the boys apologize and explain they just wanted to explore some new worlds. Its with that Kairi agreed to help them out but only if they let her come with them, since life in Sirenia while carefree can get dreadfully dull doing the same thing over and over again. Kairi arranges passage under the guise of aiding other stars with her fortune telling and sneaks Sora and Riku onto her ship.

And thats how the three of them began their own Star Tours ha cha cha

also side note i bet Vanitas and Ventus are brothers from Lama raised by xehanort to be soldiers in Lama’s military but neither of them are really Cool with this idea and probably just take off one day jdfhgkjf dont ask me what terra or xion and roxas and axel are doing because i have NO IDEA what star to put them on

yeah. thats the hoshimeguri au right now. //jazz hands; if you made it this far thank you for indulging me i owe you my life

#outofxiii #this is kinda long and rambley under the cut but if you were Slightly interested then Yeah heres come info #i love hoshimeguri tho.........its been 4 months and it remains my favorite i7 event #if only because its a COMPLETELY ORIGINAL STORY with its own world building and lore like what!!!#all this for a freaking mobile rhythm game??? nice nice nice nice

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uminoisthebest · 6 years

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Journey to the Future: Battle of the Space-Time Corridor

Season 2; Episode 82

Before we even hit play, I’m just going to say that's a mouthful of an episode title.

Note: This episode moves FAST! If there’s less jokes, it’s because this episode has little time for the jokes. It’s getting shit done. As such, this might be more episode recap than me making half-baked lame jokes.

Gotta admit, I like this opening credits song. It’s no Attack on Titans Season 1 opening but it’s catchy.

Okay. I made a joke about green hair last episode, and so this episode thinks I won’t make the same joke. It’s wrong. Usagi has snot colored hair for some reason.

We are barely 2 minutes in (including the opening credits) and stuff is blowing up.

Okay, After everyone came back to life in Season 1, I’m not as concerned with this as probably I should be.

Chibiusa spotted. Minus 49 quality points.

Oh that’s crap! It was Chibiusa’s nightmare. Nice try show! You’re not getting me to care about her!

Chibiusa and TM meet. Chibiusa is afraid for the team, TM spouts typical TM stuff. She’s convinced with his reasoning because she’s a child and her frontal lobe is not developed enough to process arguments.

Sailor Guardians are meeting and they’re concerned about Chibiusa. This seems to be the wrong way to deal with this. Shouldn’t they be partying?

UH?!? What?! Can we talk about why TM was hiding a small child inside his cape? Like that’s not acceptable AT ALL.

Chibiusa doing magic. And Chronos? Nice Greek shout-out.

Episode is moving F'in fast.

Time travel happens! (I assume?) Sailor Moon is separated from the group.

Why have a door if no one is supposed to go through it? Wouldn’t it be more efficient to destroy the door than anyone who approaches it?

Also...Chibiusa is useful. I won’t repeat that.

Sailor Pluto! I'd complain about Pluto not being a planet, but neither is the moon, so whatever.

All the rest of the Sailor guardians appeared without a sound?!

And everyone said “AMEN!”

So in this place (more on this in a second) Bubbles unlock doors. Maybe that's Ami's true calling. Back to “this place.” Where is the door of space and time? Cause it’s gotta be in a place, and it’s gotta be at a specific point in time.

Look. I’m a literal guy. When someone says “Never” that means any time for any reason. If Sailor Moon never lets go of Chibiusa’s hand, this show just got a million times worse. Also, I had to hold my mom’s hand when I crossed the street when I was a kid. I kinda feel like there should be a bit more of a uh...security feature(?) for time travel.

Yea, I’m going to let that slide without comment. But my eyes are are saying a whole lot while they roll.

Wow...Luna is the worst secret keeper ever!

So the Space-time Corridor is located on a planet?!? Is this a bad translation? I could’ve been content with “realm” or “passage” but PLANET?!

From hence forth, Wiseman will be known as Darth Sidious. And he makes his appearance. Once again, not upset about the decision to make a cross-over with this and Star Wars.

This ain’t creepy at all.

It ain’t getting any less creepy!

Bad guys can’t be trusted! Here’s my shocked face -_-

I made a comment about how Esmeraulde annoys me. @uglygreenjacket said she was about to die soon. She spoils things like no one else.

This episode is going really quick! Already at commercial break.

"Doofusdangle" was just said out loud during the viewing.

Esmeraulde made them lose each other! They're all dead.

Time travel paradox! If SM young dies, does SM old have to die?!

Rei being the best! This should have been Ami, but as I’ve vented about before, the writers don’t actually think Ami is smart.

If everyone dies in the TM group, does anyone care? No?

Oh Yea, Luna is Admiral Ackbar. OMG I JUST REALIZED THAT CHIBIUSA IS JAR JAR BINKS!!!

Whenever threatened - just stand still and cry.

Really? Slingshot? Not flaming swords? Shotgun?

Anyone know what time polarity is? Cause Wikipedia got nothing.

Rei’s attack looks so cool.

Ami is finally being legit! Nerds FTW!

Sailor Planet attack?!? It sounds cool, looks less impressive.

Every congratulates each other for defeating a monster...not like they do that every episode.

Crystal Tokyo is torn up.

The Adventures of Umino and Naru: During this episode, Umino and Naru built a spaceship that takes them to the space-time corridor planet. There, they use a teleport that takes them to the Harry Potter Universe. Umino is sorted in to Ravenclaw (Represent!) and Naru is sorted into Hufflepuff (she’s a severally underdeveloped character, sorry!). Umino and Hermione become friends (because duh) and instead of making her cry in her first year for correcting him on a pronunciation of spells, Umino graciously thanks her for helping him learn something new. So instead of crying in the bathroom during Halloween, she, Umino, and Naru make it through the trap door and find the Philosopher’s Stone. Now Herminone is ready to take down Voldemort...and the Patriarchy.

#Season 2 #Plot Heavy

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faejilly · 6 years

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i am for you

this is entirely @janoda‘s fault. her and her tag essays. ANYWAYS. I have a weakness for epistolary fic, and also Alec & Magnus being adorkable, so here. Have some self-indulgent fluff. Part 1/? (AO3) (series tag)

One misdirected email leads to bonding over bookstores & bad fiction, sleep-deprivation, the introduction of the Lightwood-Garroway Family Hedge, and Magnus and Alec falling in love.

From: [email protected] [M. Bane] To: [email protected] [R. Fell] subj: forgive me

Hello, you old stick in the mud.

Yes that is a perfectly acceptable way to open a letter, do shush.

And yes, email counts as a letter, just because you study ancient dead people more than living ones does not mean you should not admit to the existence of modern innovation.

Also yes, obviously, I have bad news, you know me so well, however have we borne each other's company for so long?

Especially when you have such an appalling lack of sense as to allow me to borrow your copy of Marlowe's treatise on the White Book.

Oops?

It will not be wending its way back to you along with the references on the Grey and the Red. I know, it's not the same when it's not a whole set, I will make it up to you.

Somehow.

I promise.

And you know I keep my word.

From: [email protected] [Alec L.] To: [email protected] [M. Bane] subj: this is awkward

I want to apologize. I'm not whoever it was you were trying to write to, but there are way too many people I know who would start an email with a "forgive me" so I was about half-way through before I realized you weren't actually one of them.

So, uh. Sorry? I mean. Sorry, really, and you should probably double check your friend's email.

But. Not to be too creepy or intrusive, barging in on someone's accidentally public conversation, but I know a bookstore on Isaacs Dr, behind the campus liquor store, (the one with the red roof, not the one with the blue roof), that had a copy of the book you mentioned. If you wanted to find a replacement. It's called Fray & Garroway, and if you tell them it's for Alec they'll give you a 10% discount.

Assuming you're even in Alicante, which may be a bit of a jump, but you did send your note via a UIA email address.

From: [email protected] [M. Bane] To: [email protected] [Alec L] subj: Charming, not awkward

I feel, my darling Alec, (if I may?), that it must have been Providence that sent my email astray. Do you believe in fate? I think I do, as of today.

There cannot be many people in Alicante who have even heard of Marlowe's delightfully obscure infatuation with the occult, much less know where to find a copy of a reprint of one of his books. Or be familiar enough to know a discount on that price-tag is not a trivial thing.

Not that I wouldn't have paid full price to redeem myself in my long-suffering (as he says) compatriot's eyes, but it is rather delightful to know that I did not have to, purely thanks to the kindness of a stranger.

Thank you.

You didn't have to reply at all, much less go out of your way to offer assistance. It's unusual to bump into such a giving soul these days. You have quite restored my faith in humanity.

-- M

From: [email protected] [Alec L.] To: [email protected] [M. Bane] subj: you do have a way with words, don't you

M, is it? Are we embarking on a mystery correspondence? I feel I may have fallen into a bad spy movie, or perhaps a pulp detective novel. (I am certainly no 007 to have fallen into a good spy movie, after all.)

Do you have contacts scattered across Idris running secret errands for you? Clandestine meetings and secret back-alley exchanges?

(Please don't tell me if you don't, imagining a secret society dealing in strange matters of the occult is the most interesting thing to have happened to me all week, and the only interesting thing in at least a month that wasn't bordering on a disaster, and is quite probably the only thing that's going to keep me awake for the next two hours of my shift.)

You're welcome, but you don't have to thank me. I just answered an email. Definitely not worth the weight of the entire human race settling in-between us.

From: [email protected] [M. Bane] To: [email protected] [Alec L] subj: but your words were so much more interesting than mine

There are a myriad number of people whose job it is to reply to my emails and yet they never manage it. You are exceptional, and I refuse to let you avoid my gratitude. I am thanking you, and you are just going to have to accept that that is the state of things.

Also I may have laughed out loud and scared my best friend when I read your email, so now you have to keep responding so I can prove you're a real person and we're having a real conversation and she doesn't think I'm crazy.

Well. Crazier than usual.

You are a real person aren't you? Who likes spy movies and old pulp paperbacks? (Can you recommend some of those detective stories? I really loved your bookstore, it was very welcoming. Sunlit and dusty and well-organized shelves but piles in the corners just waiting to be explored and the most gorgeous tiny pieces of artwork hiding in all the small bits of wall where shelves wouldn't fit. Quite my new favorite place, I think I shall be back, especially if I have a shopping list as an excuse?)

Don't answer that real person question, I don't want to know if it's a no, anymore than you want to know that there are no covert societies, encoded messages, or secret passages anywhere in my life.

Though wait, of course you must be real, that lovely young redhead at the bookstore was positively delighted at the idea that Alec sent me, her whole face lit up with a smile.

Are you sure you're not already living the life of a secret agent? I feel I may have unwittingly been involved in some of your clandestine courier work already.

Though I suppose secret agents do not generally have shift work.

From: [email protected] [Alec L.] To: [email protected] [M. Bane] subj: not nearly as interesting as you are attach: ruleswip.docx attach: pulpfiction.docx

Oh hell, Clary was working? Were there charcoal stains on her fingers and a sketchbook on the counter? Was it an evil smile?

It was, wasn't it. I'm doomed, I'm going to have to avoid family dinner for at least a month.

I could distract her with your compliments, perhaps? Most of the artwork is hers. Some of it was her mother's. Either way she actually almost looks shy whenever someone says something nice about it.

Or I could ask her all about you.

I feel like that would be uncalled for, but I'm not sure why. Are we playing a game? Are there rules? Would that be cheating?

Unless you asked her about me, in which case it would be entirely fair, and also that was definitely an evil smile and oh my gosh I'm rambling in an email. I'm typing myself rambling, clearly the sleep-deprivation has reached epic proportions, I am so sorry.

And yet I'm going to send this as is, because I think perhaps that might be one of the rules.

Maybe I should make a list? Would that be weird? This entire email is weird, have I apologized already?

See attached: two lists. Feel free to delete them. Or edit and send them back. I feel I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, I may need some direction.

That's wow. I'm kind of pushy tonight, sorry.

This is what happens when you work second shift at the student support center. Which is usually about as difficult as did you try turning your laptop off and on again and let me unjam the printer with the occasional yes I do know how to format a bibliography, that's why I'm here. I am definitely as far from a secret agent man as it is humanly possible to be, and my brain has mostly leaked out my ears from boredom by the time I'm done.

(That was an attractive description, wasn't it. I'm sorry.)

But second shift was quiet enough when I was an undergrad I could manage to do extra studying, and now they're stuck with me, I guess. Or I'm stuck with them? I'm not entirely sure anymore. At least this is the last year.

But now I'm wondering, if you're not part of some secret coven of the occult, why The Book of the White?

Which is assuredly none of my business, feel free to ignore me.

If you've made it this far and still respond, I think I might start believing in miracles.

From: [email protected] [M. Bane] To: [email protected] [Alec L] subj: still with the incredibly charming attach: ruleswip2.docx attach: pulpscripts.docx

I don't believe anyone has ever compared me to a miracle before, I am quite over-wrought.

That sentence came out even more melodramatically than I intended, but that does not mean it isn't sincere. We haven't met, but I find I am quite pleased to think I have earned your good opinion, and your curiosity.

I have indeed taken a look at your rules, and marked it up with my virtual purple pen. (Not red, because it did not need correction so much as expansion. You have a very economical way with words once you switch to informational.) Also I counter your collection of ridiculously titled fiction (all of which I am looking forward to devouring) with some ridiculously styled plays. We did start this with Marlowe, after all.

I feel like it will be a great disappointment to tell you that I am doing regular boring class-related research; I do not think that crosses the bonds of this strange pseudo-anonymity we have, as you recognized the UIA email address, and thus know what an 05 extension means. (Though I still have no idea how my first email got routed to you. I am distressingly good at clicking the wrong thing, but that is a bit dramatic even for me. The servers must have had an aneurysm or something, the original recipient's an 08, on top of the entirely different set of initials.)

And no, I did not ask the redhead anything about you, I was oddly terrified that somehow she'd learn my entire life-story in the process. There was a very steely glint in her eyes when she rung me up.

But family dinner! I am entirely intrigued. Are you also a redhead, my mysterious benefactor? Cousin, brother, uncle?

I typed boyfriend in that list and erased it and typed it about three more times and then I looked up at our rules and realized you're right. I'm not sure if we've reached a coherent set of directions yet, but I don't wish to cheat either. I typed it, it stays.

From: [email protected] [Alec L.] To: [email protected] [M. Bane] subj: I may start blushing at any moment attach: ruleswip3.docx attach: bmovietime.docx

Oh fuck no, definitely not her boyfriend, I am very gay and also she's kind of my sister?

And wow, that's a way to come out to one's secret pen pal. I really have to stop responding to your emails at 2 in the morning, I am always vaguely horrified when I remember what I said the next day, and this is clearly not going to be the exception.

Though, since you keep responding anyways, clearly I should only respond at 2 in the morning? I may have to consider that one.

And no again, I am not a redhead, and the family dinner is a little complicated, (see the kind-of above) but I suppose I would be her step-brother once removed? That sounds entirely implausible doesn't it, it's quite obvious I just made that up.

Her step-dad married my mom.

That was much less complicated than I thought it was going to be, hmm. Clearly I have been over-thinking the family history every other time someone asked. Perhaps it's a lifetime of being over-sensitive. One of my brothers is adopted and we got a lot of oh dear you look nothing alike comments when we were little.

But now I realize how very one-sided our conversation has become, you know my name and that I have a family hedge rather than a tree, that you can find some of us at a bookstore, and that I have a rainbow flag sitting in the cup of pens and highlighters on my desk.

Also that I am much more familiar with b-movies than b-plays, so I feel I must switch media in our disaster lists of duelling recommendations yet again. I did manage to find that set by Bernhardt to read, however, and they were joyfully terrible, I hope someday I can see them on stage.

My sister is staring at me in shock from across town, I always rolled my eyes when she was in her musical theatre stage in middle school. (Different sister, not the redhead.)

Then again I rolled my eyes at everything at that point, it's difficult being nice when you're so far in the closet you can't even see the door. And look at me, over-sharing again. I don't.

This isn't something I do? But since that email you sent back thanking me, I have felt like I've known you forever, and can tell you anything. Is it because I don't have a face to put to the words, so I'm not worrying about what I look like to you? Is it just that such sincere and honest gratitude isn't something I've really seen before? Maybe you don't think people can just help just because, but I'm not sure I've ever seen someone just say thank you without a single caveat. You answered me with such grace, it made my heart ache.

I don't know. And here I am getting all philosophical, the joys of 2am confessions. I can't say I'm sorry though, because that wouldn't be true.

But I know next to nothing about you. And you did just compliment my curiosity, it's in the email chain, I could copy-paste it and prove my point, if I had to. (Never leave a paper trail if you don't want it to be used against you.)

Though I can make an educated guess, at the very least, that your long-suffering compatriot is Professor Fell? I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier, I knew he had a bunch of Marlowe in his collection. And his old email got routed to mine over the summer when I did a work-study with him and he didn't want to deal with any more of Dean Aldertree's questions.

Everyone else switched to his new extension when he got tenure. Except you. Providence does seem to be the answer here. I'm glad.

From: [email protected] [M. Bane] To: [email protected] [Alec L] subj: the very thought makes me breathless attach: ruleswip4.docx attach: ChairmanMeowFavorites.docx

I am honored you trusted me, Alec. Is that short for Alexander, perhaps? Would you mind if I called you that? It seems to fit the poetic nature of this correspondence.

Ragnor and I have been friends for a very long time, even before we both ended up on opposite ends of campus. It is terribly tempting to go ask him for a description of his interns last summer, except for the fact that I'd be lucky if he remembered the color of your hair. He could probably recognize your writing style within three words, but asking someone else is not how this goes, is it?

You are giving me clandestine operation vibes again, darling. Paper trails. Who says things like that? Spies. In delightfully bad movies.

Oh, oh! Do you have a tuxedo with exploding cufflinks? I have always wanted to see such a thing.

And yes, I am avoiding your questions, and no, I am not entirely sure why.

Or I am, and it's vaguely embarrassing. I think I am afraid that as soon as you know my real name this will stop being some unexpected fairy tale I have landed in, and something will go wrong, and I'll never get another email from you, and that thought is more upsetting than it has any right to be. I trust you too, dramatically, inexplicably, and completely.

I have never wanted to delete anything as much as I want to delete that paragraph. But you sent me all your sincere 2am ramblings, so I must do the same.

You make me brave, my mysterious Alexander.

Our rules list is not so much rules as elaborate flirtation at this point, wouldn't you say? And we've made our way through books and plays and movies, so now have a list of the music I never admit to people I listen to when I'm home alone and dancing for the cat.

My name is Magnus, and I have no real family to speak of, so I am not at all sure what one means by a hedge but I must admit that I want to find out.

And also that I especially wish to see a tuxedo on you, which I am sure is entirely too forward of me and I am quite sure I have just scared you away and I have never been so nervous about clicking that damn send icon in my life.

From: [email protected] [Alec L.] To: [email protected] [M. Bane] subj: forget breathless, I think I've forgotten how to breathe entirely attach: music.docx

I don't think I have successfully flirted with anyone before in my entire life. I feel suspiciously like I might be having an attack of the vapors like the characters from an old romance novel.

Don't tell my sister I read old romance novels. Or that there are showtunes on my music list. She will never let me hear the end of it. And look at me, assuming you want to meet my sister. Did I mention breathing is not really a thing at the moment?

Your cat's name is Chairman Meow? That is the second-best thing I've heard in my life.

First is that this unexpected correspondence means as much to you as it does to me. Or maybe first is the idea of you calling me Alexander. No one does, never have, though I've had to repeatedly correct a few teachers over the years to keep it that way, but I like the idea of it coming from you. I like that very much.

To answer your sort-of question before I get to my actual question, because I am nervous enough I have started this email about five times already, law students talk about paper trails. Especially in their last year when they're trying desperately not to think too much about everything that could go wrong before graduation and how easy it is to fail the Bar.

And here we go. If you were brave I cannot be any less, can I?

It's not a tuxedo, but if you do want to meet the hedge (and me, hopefully more so) Clary's best friend Simon is a musician, and he has a gig this weekend at The Hunter's Moon, if you would like to come and find out...

I don't know, find out if this is a real off the computer screen as it is inside it, somewhere public where it'll be easy enough to make a strategic retreat if necessary.

Or, I think we're past easy retreats, but at least it'll be possible.

I hope we don't have to.

It will be an awful lot of the hedge though, if that's too much? We could try coffee or something first.

I mean, there's my brother and sister and step-sister and Simon and his girlfriend (who also works at the bookstore, we're a tangled disaster) and sometimes my friend Lydia because if I don't drag her out occasionally she's even more of a workaholic than I am. And it would be even worse if our cousin Aline was here, but she's visiting her girlfriend abroad.

They frequently are too much. Because they will, assuredly, every single one of them, make a comment on me inviting someone. Except maybe Lydia. She'll give you a look though. She's very good at those. So. Just. A warning? Hell, that paragraph looks terrifying and I know all of them already. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore, and if I had to talk instead of type I'm pretty sure I'd be stuttering. I kind of am, even here, aren't I?

I am 102% convinced I have just scared you away, but it's better to warn you than drop you in the middle of that. No one deserves that, and especially not someone I am very much looking forward to meeting.

And I really better hit send now or I'm going to give myself a heart-attack.

From: [email protected] [M. Bane] To: [email protected] [Alec L] subj: breathing is overrated

I have, my entire life, always been the one who is too much for someone else. I think it only fair, at our first acquaintance, that you have the opportunity to be too much as well. I would be delighted to dive into the deep-end of whatever this is and start out by meeting your family. We've done everything else out of order, haven't we?

With the caveat that perhaps we meet outside rather than in the middle of your hedge? (Do they know you call them that? Can I call them that? That sounds delightful.) Just in case, as you said.

And to share note by note, and also so you can answer your delightful hedge's presumably nosy questions about who the dashing man you've invited along even is, I am finishing up the second year of my very first real professor job in the drama department.

Not that that is likely to be a surprise, considering Marlowe and Bernhardt.

Also the eyeliner tends to add to that conclusion for most people who have met me in person. I am so very much looking forward to adding you to that list. (Also I'm terrified. Is it alright to be terrified? Should I admit that? Probably not. Too late now!) What's your favorite color, Alexander? I think I shall need the fortitude of getting my nails done before I arrive.

From: [email protected] [Alec L.] To: [email protected] [M. Bane] subj: but I need to survive until Saturday

There's a bus-stop around the corner, on 5th? We can meet there at 8 on Saturday, and then decide if you're willing to come inside with me or not. (I have not ever called the family a hedge before I attempted to explain them to you, and most definitely not to their faces. I highly encourage you to do so, so that I can watch. Is that mean? That might be a little mean of me, I do apologize. Sort of.)

I don't think anyone's asked me my favorite color since I outgrew my moody teenage years and the only possible answer was black, with perhaps the occasional detour into grey. Would it be terribly out of line of me to admit that meeting you makes me think of the sunrise, and thus I am, at the moment, most especially fond of pink and gold?

From: [email protected] [M. Bane] To: [email protected] [Alec L] subj: if you keep saying things like that, I'm not going to survive either

I never knew heart-attacks were contagious, but oh I think you shared yours with me with that last line. You are painfully romantic, Alexander, I am in awe.

But now I desperately need a change of conversational topic or I will fidget myself into a disaster by Saturday night, that's two whole days.

Why law school, if I may be both bold and boring and ask the obvious and impertinent?

I shall answer your return question, why the theatre? before you even have to ask. Or the short version, anyways. It gave me a world better than the one I was living in when I was young, and then it was just so very pretty that I never wanted to leave. Especially when I realized how many other people need that escape as well, and I could help them find it.

That got a bit more serious than I intended. That does keep happening to me, as soon as I start a message to you. I have never failed so entirely at being a light and sparkling and charming personality before. You're remarkable.

From: [email protected] [Alec L.] To: [email protected] [M. Bane] subj: you have rendered me almost entirely speechless

I am not at all remarkable but the fact that you think so has kept me smiling all day. At least three people asked if I was all right, Lydia asked what his name is, whoever he is, (I have not told her yet, but I did re-invite her to Simon's gig, and I think she's definitely decided to come now), and I didn't even mind having to fix the same printer error four times tonight.

And you are easily the most captivating person I have ever (almost?) met.

Most of the time when people ask why law school it's easy enough to fob them off with a shrug, to mention that my father's a lawyer and my mother's a forensic accountant so I sort of just grew into it. Lightwood family tradition. Or something.

But my father's really the reason I almost didn't go to law school at all, and I don't want to give you the wrong impression. It's also a bit of a long story and may quite well ruin the conversation and if I scared you off now I think I might not recover any time soon.

Which is my way of saying hello there terror, nice you're visiting me, too.

I suppose the short version would be that, after Jace (the adopted brother) and my parents' truly disastrous divorce, I'd seen too many cases of terrible situations where no one had a real advocate. So I'm going into family law.

Hopefully. Assuming I don't have a panic attack and fail the Bar. Which is honestly what every other law student I know thinks is going to happen and clearly we can't all be that disastrous, but it's hard to keep that in mind some days.

Most days.

I can tell you the long story, if you'd like, but I have to admit I rather desperately want to kiss you before I say something too depressing and you no longer want to kiss me back. (And don't think I didn't notice you doing the exact same thing with your long story.)

And the 2am inability to think before I type is back. I did not miss you.

I am going to hit send now before I chicken out or die of mortification.

From: [email protected] [M. Bane] To: [email protected] [Alec L] subj: asdfjklgh (how's that for speechless?)

I may have just lost a half-an-hour staring blankly at my screen imagining Alexander kisses so. Priorites agreed upon! Until tonight it is.

#malec #malec fic #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #epistolary #modern email epistolary even #jilly writes #my sh fic #modern au #college au #i am for you

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three-drink-amy · 6 years

Text

For As Long As I Remember We’ve Been Told We’d Someday Wed

Chapter 2

Amy felt more nervous than anything else as she and Jake strode back inside the castle. It had been three years since someone else found out her secret. At first she was terrified that Jake discovered it. But his reaction proved that maybe Terry had been right the night before. Maybe Jake had changed in the last few years. Amy shook her thoughts from her head as she walked toward the dining room.

Terry found her quickly as she walked through the door. “Listen, Jake is here.”

Jake walked through the door right behind Amy. “Yeah, she knows.”

Amy nodded. She stepped closer to Terry so the people setting the table wouldn’t hear. “Also, he knows.” Terry looked confused. “He knows.”

When Terry still looked puzzled, Jake clarified it for him. “I know about council.” Amy looked back at him, shocked at his ability to be discreet.

Terry’s eyes went wide. “What? I thought you were sleeping.” He looked over at Amy panickedly. “I didn’t tell him. I promise.”

Amy reached out her arms to comfort Terry. “Don’t worry, I know you didn’t tell him. No one told him. He...saw it happen.”

Terry glared at Jake. “You were supposed to be in your room!”

Jake held his hands up in defense. “Whoa. Sorry, I woke up and I was bored. And I’ve always loved the grounds here and so I went for a walk. I didn’t realize I was about to stumble upon some huge secret. I just wanted to stretch my legs!”

Amy could tell Terry was about to launch into a longer rant so she stepped in. “Look, I’m actually okay that Jake knows.”

“You are?” They said in unison.

Amy chuckled to herself. “I really am. It makes me feel motivated again.” She looked back and forth between the guys. “We need to break this. Once and for all. I can’t keep living like this. I mean this isn’t living.”

Terry nodded solemnly. “You’re right. We let this go on too long.”

“I mean we’ve tried to figure it out several different times and just kept hitting walls,” Amy reasoned. “But this time, we have to think it through.”

“Maybe it’ll help to have some fresh perspective,” Jake offered.

Amy smiled at him. “That’s a good attitude,” she joked. Amy walked over to the table and sat down in her seat. “I’m going to eat and then I’m going to hit the library,” she said confidently.

“So it’ll be a regular evening for you?” Jake asked as he sat down next to her.

Amy smirked. “Admittedly, yes. But the reading materials will be a bit different.” Jake nodded, already tucking into the food in front of him.

So that night, after they finished their dinners, Amy, Jake, and Terry wandered up to the library and pulled out any books about curses they could find. Granted, the reserve on that subject was incredibly small. They sat there, reading out passages, theorizing, and then going back to the books.

And that started being their regular habit. They’d eat dinner and then retreat to the library. Slowly, Jake and Terry became nocturnal (like Amy had basically already been for three years). They’d spend their nights trying to find out as much as they could about curses in hopes that they could find the trick to breaking the specific one on Amy.

As they sat in the library, a few weeks into their new pattern, Amy slammed her book shut angrily. Jake looked up, his shock clear on his face. “I cannot believe you would treat a book that way,” he joked.

Amy flashed him a ghost of a smile. She was mad. They’d been working diligently for almost a month to figure out how to break the curse and they were as close to breaking it as they were three years ago when it was cast. “I’m just mad.”

“You’re completely allowed to be,” Jake replied. He shut his book delicately. “I really can’t imagine what it’s like.” Amy shrugged. He cleared his throat. “I mean, uh, what is it like?”

Amy stared at him. “What? To be a swan?” Jake nodded hesitantly. “Um, it’s kinda hard to explain. I mean, I can still think and process things as a swan. But it’s not like I can talk. Usually I just tuck into a specific tree and sleep through as much of the day as I can.”

Jake nodded, seemingly unsure of how to reply. He looked over at Terry where he stood by the bookshelves against the far wall. Terry was trying to search for a specific book.

“He feels guilty,” Amy stated. Jake turned and looked back at her, a confused expression on his face. “He’d never say so, but I know he does.”

“Why? Because he’s your head of security?”

“Basically,” Amy confirmed. “It happened the night before I was supposed to leave for Brooklynne so Terry had gone home already. He didn’t used to stay all through the night like he does now. And he always got the summers off when I would go to Brooklynne. So he’d gone home to start his three month long vacation. And my dad was killed and I was kidnapped and cursed. He came back here and has barely left since.”

Jake looked sad. “Terry’s such a sweet guy. I could totally believe that he feels guilty about it all.”

“He was the first person I found after I came back,” Amy told him. Jake looked confused. “I don’t remember anything after seeing the man standing over my dad’s body. He somehow knocked me out and kidnapped me. I stumbled back in the castle, unsure of where I’d been or even how much later it was. I found Terry first to tell him that I thought something happened to my dad.”

Amy sighed as she recalled the events of three years ago. She looked up at Jake to see him listening raptly. “Terry dragged me up to my room and told me that my dad had died. I told him immediately that someone had killed him. And somehow, Terry believed me. We still had no idea that I was cursed at that point. And then the next morning, I was a swan. Terry was the only person I trusted to tell. And for a few days, we were the only people who knew. But then Mrs. Smith wondered why I wasn’t taking meals during the day, so Terry swore her to secrecy. I don’t know what lie she told the rest of the kitchen staff, but none of them even seem like it’s weird anymore. Then of course, we informed Percy, our head proclamater. Well, that’s what he likes to be called. Anyway, he needed to be told so he could have the right story to tell when people wondered why the princess didn’t do anything except at night. And those people, aside from you, are the only people who know this whole thing.”

“Wow,” Jake sighed. “I’d be touched if I hadn’t found out by accident,” Jake said with a laugh.

Amy chuckled as she reached out and laid her hand on Jake’s arm. “I may not have chosen to tell you, but it has been nice having your help.”

Jake gasped. “My goodness, is that an honest to God compliment?” Amy glared at him. “Sorry, but we both know those weren’t very common in the last 16 years.”

“Well maybe you weren’t proving to be useful in the last 16 years,” Amy retorted.

“Fair point.” Jake blew out a breath. “Only problem is, I don’t feel like I’m being very helpful now.”

“It helps to have a new perspective,” Amy offered.

“Except I’m doing nothing with it,” Jake said, wallowing. Suddenly, he jumped up, pacing back and forth behind his chair. “Okay, so we’ve been thinking about how to break the curse. And that’s basically it. We need to go about this from another direction.”

“Like what?”

“Like who did it,” Jake said, stopping and looking at Amy. “I mean we both know that there are only so many books in this library on curses. So why don’t we also look into who could be the person behind this all?”

It was an interesting point. Amy had only ever thought of him in terms of killing her father. She really didn’t know who it could be. That was why they’d never pursued that trail before. But maybe that was also why they’d never broken the curse. She nodded thoughtfully. “That might not be a bad idea.” She looked down at the books in front of her on the table. “But I still want to look into breaking the curse too. Because I think the best option would be trying to break it on our own and not involving whoever cursed me.”

Jake nodded in agreement. “That’s a good plan.” He sat back down, opening his book back up. With a grin on his face, he looked back up at Amy. “You know, I think this might be the most we’ve ever gotten along. You should have gotten cursed a long time ago.”

Amy reared back, anger filling her as she was ready to go off on him. He fixed her with a knowing look. “Amy, it was a joke.”

She sat back in her chair, nodding slowly. “I know.” Jake stared at her with a pointed expression. “Okay, I didn’t know for sure. But I get it. It isn’t terrible getting along.”

Jake woke up and rather than jumping up to get dressed and leave, he just laid there for a while. He certainly had a lot on his mind. It had been a month since he’d arrived back in Ninenne and they weren’t making any headway on helping Amy. Jake had no idea why he felt guilty about it. It wasn’t like he cursed Amy. But as he turned his head and looked out the window, he couldn’t help but realize that as he laid there, Amy was somewhere as a swan.

Jake laid there, trying to think about their problem. He felt like he was missing something. They’d covered so many different types of curses but he felt like there was one that they hadn’t seen yet. He had no idea what it would be, but something was tugging at his mind. They’d talked about potions, verbal spells, wands, cloaks, and many other types of curses.

Suddenly, he sat up quickly in his bed. “Amulets!” he yelled to the empty room around him. Jake jumped out of bed, throwing on his clothes and running from the room to go find Terry. He found him sitting at the table in the dining room, Mrs. Smith pouring him a glass of juice.

“Jacob,” she greeted sweetly. “Why don’t you sit down and eat with Terrance?”

Jake nodded, sitting down next to Terry. “Sure, who am I to turn down some of your amazing food?” he replied kindly. She smiled fondly and walked toward the kitchen to get another plate. Apparently not long into Amy’s curse, they’d stopped keeping the kitchen staff around during the day since they weren’t needed. Mrs. Smith had promised she could handle whatever meals needed to be handled during the day on her own. It also cut down on less people finding out about the curse.

“Terry, I had an idea,” Jake informed as he waited for his food. Terry looked up curiously. “It’s been bugging me. I kept feeling like there was some kind of magic we hadn’t found yet but that I knew existed. And then it hit me. It’s amulets.”

“You think that’s what they’re using?” Terry asked. “You think Amy has to wear one? Why wouldn’t she just take it off?”

“No that’s not what I mean,” Jake clarified. “Maybe that’s how they use their magic.” Terry looked at him curiously. “I know there’s a lot more to find out. And I think I know where to get it.”

Jake waited until sundown to reveal his plan. Amy stared at him curiously as he mentioned amulets. “Amy, remember when you used to read in the library at my castle and I used to go in there and annoy you?”

Amy looked at him with an annoyed expression. “Yes, I definitely remember that.”

“When we were like 14, I read some book to you about amulets,” he recalled to her. “I don’t know how I thought of it, but I remember exactly what that book looked like. It’s somewhere in the library back home.”

“You really think this would be helpful?” Amy asked, a weird tone to her voice.

Jake nodded assuredly. “Absolutely.”

“Sounds good,” Terry agreed, excusing himself to go talk to Percy in another room.

Amy was biting her lip nervously when Jake turned back to her. “What do you think is wrong with me going to get this book? It’ll be like a one day trip. I’ll go get it and leave immediately.”

She sighed. “I don’t know, Jake.”

Jake stared at her critically, wondering what she was concerned about. He’d made the trip between Brooklynne and Ninenne plenty of times in his life. Amy was looking down at her feet when Jake realized what could be troubling her. “You think I won’t come back,” he stated.

Amy looked up at him, a vulnerable look on her face. “What?”

“Amy, is that what you think? Do you really think I’d leave and not come back?” Jake questioned.

She shrugged as she crossed her arms defensively. “I don’t know.” He kept staring at her, daring her to voice her concerns. “Okay, fine, yeah. I’m worried you won’t come back. I mean this is a lot, Jake. And you didn’t ask for this pressure of freeing me from whatever this is. You just jumped in without thinking about it fully. So maybe you saw this out and you want to take it.”

Jake’s mouth hung open as he listened to Amy. He stepped closer to her, reaching out and grabbing her by the shoulders. She looked up at him. “Amy, I promise I’ll come back. Look, I know that we’ve never been the best of friends, but...honestly I feel closer to you now than I ever have before. And I may not want to marry you,” he added with a laugh, “but that doesn’t mean I want you to live like this. I told you I would help you break this curse and I intend to keep that promise.”

Amy stared at Jake as tears swam in her eyes. She threw herself forward, her arms wrapping around Jake. He leaned into the hug, wrapping his arms around her. “Thank you, Jake,” she breathed into his shoulder.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back comfortingly. “What are friends for?”

Amy pulled back and looked at him. There was a lot she looked like she wanted to say but didn’t. She opened her mouth and closed it again. “Well, have safe travels.” Jake nodded. “And you know, that’s your home. If you don’t want to rush in and back out, I wouldn’t blame you. What’s a few more days?”

Jake shook his head at her with a grin. “I’ll see you either tomorrow or the next day. All depends on how long it takes me to find the book and get back on my horse.”

Amy smiled, nodding her head. “Do you want to take the Camila? It’s the fastest ship in our fleet.”

Jake smirked. “I always forget that your dad had a ship named after your mom,” he said thoughtfully. He looked back at Amy. “I’ll be good with McClane. It’ll be good to get him out and stretch his legs.”

Amy nodded nervously. “Well, just be safe, okay?”

Jake drew an x over his heart. “Cross my heart,” he replied. Amy bowed herself out to go to dinner as Jake headed toward the stables. Terry found Jake before he made it to the stables.

“Hey, Man,” Terry called. Jake turned around and looked at him. “Percy was running late so I was wandering back to the dining room when I overheard a pretty heavy conversation between you and Amy.” Jake rolled his eyes. “That was some very sweet things you said to Amy.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jake deadpanned.

“However, I think it was a lie,” Terry continued.

“What?”

“Oh, I believe that you want to help Amy, I do. But I don’t believe what you said about not wanting to marry her,” Terry informed him with a grin.

“Excuse me?” Jake said, gaping at Terry. “Why is that?”

“What was the first thing you did when Amy turned you down? You came all the way here...to her.”

Jake scoffed. “Please, that wasn’t because I wanted to marry her. I just...wanted to know...why.”

Terry smiled smugly. “And you haven’t left her side since you got here.”

“I promised to help her,” Jake reminded him.

“I can’t imagine how 15 year old Jake would react to learning that you were willingly spending time with Amy,” Terry mused.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jake called as he walked for the stables.

“Or I’m just saying the things you haven’t let yourself admit yet!” Terry called back.

Jake shook his head as he walked to get McClane and head back to Brooklynne. But a fascinating thing happened as he rode back to his kingdom; he couldn’t get his mind off Amy. He kept wondering what she was doing. Other times he’d wonder how they’d break the curse. Sometimes his mind went too far and wondered what they would do once the curse was broken. Halfway through his journey, Jake stopped McClane and shook his head. He talked himself down. These thoughts were only in his head because Terry put them there.

Or were they there for another reason?

Jake spent the rest of the trip back to his home fighting with himself about Amy. By the time he was approaching the castle, the sun was on the rise. Amy will be turning back into a swan right about now. Jake groaned as Amy popped into his head for the millionth time on that trip.

After leaving McClane in the stables, Jake didn’t stop to see anyone else before he headed for the library. He was between the third and fourth floor when he heard his name being called. Jake turned around only to see his best friend Charles racing after him.

“Jake! Where the hell have you been?” Charles called as he ran at Jake, hugging him tightly.

Jake patted him on the back. “Sorry to just disappear, bud. I’ve been in Ninenne.”

“Ninenne?” Charles asked. Jake nodded. “With Amy?”

Jake sunk a little. “Yes, but I know where you’re going with this, Charles and it’s not-”

“You’ve been with Amy for the past month?” Charles asked again, waggling his eyebrows this time.

Jake recoiled. “Yes, but it hasn’t meant anything. I’ve just been helping...her with some...trouble in the kingdom. Strictly platonic. I mean, you know I find Amy gross and disgusting.”

Charles nodded with a grin, looking like he didn’t believe Jake. Jake wondered if he even believed himself anymore.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Look, I need something from the library. You’re welcome to help me if you want.” Charles nodded, falling in line with him.

As they reached the fourth floor, Charles went the wrong way. “Hey, I’ll meet you there!” Jake nodded and rushed off to the library. There was no time to worry about what Charles could be up to.

Jake was rushing through the library, trying desperately to find the book he’d read seven years before. There was a voice in his head telling him that he was grasping at straws. But Jake thought back to that summer. It had been very hot that year, hotter than usual. So more than ever before, Jake and Amy had tried to stay inside. That of course meant that Amy tried to shake Jake and went to the library. Jake, however, got great pleasure from annoying the hell out of Amy. He remembered he’d found Amy near one of the windows. So he’d grabbed a book off one of the shelves nearby and sat down right in front of her, reading loudly about magical amulets and the magic they can grant to the wearer.

Jake wound around to those shelves near the windows and looked slowly through each shelf. He felt like he had to be getting close when he heard Charles call his name again. “Back here,” he yelled.

“Well hello, Jacob.” Jake looked over to see his mother looking at him crossly.

“Hey, Mom!” he replied, drawing out both words nervously. “What’s going on?”

“A question I’d like to ask too,” his mother retorted. “Where the hell have you been for the last month, Jacob? You just disappeared!”

“Look, Jake, I know it hurt when Amy rejected you, but-” Charles attempted.

“Shut up, Charles,” Jake sighed. “Look, I’ve been perfectly safe in Ninenne. And I’m headed back there once I find what I’m looking for here.”

“What have you been doing there?” Karen questioned.

“I’ve been helping Amy,” Jake answered vaguely. Karen stared at him, demanding more explanation with just an expression. “They’re having some problems over there and I’m trying to help her.”

“Why did you even go there after they left?” Charles asked. “I feel like there’s a reason.”

“It doesn’t matter why I went there,” Jake groaned.

“No, it doesn’t,” Karen agreed.

Jake looked at her with a surprised expression. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Oh, don’t for a second think I’m not still mad at you. But I want to know what these troubles are in Ninenne.”

Jake sucked in a breath. “Yeah, that’s the thing. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. I can’t tell you guys.”

“Why not?” Karen demanded. “I’m the Queen of Brooklynne. Surely she’d want my help. That’s why we’re allies.”

“Well, the Prince of Brooklynne is enough to help out,” Jake assured. Karen and Charles fixed him with curious stares. “Look, I wish I could tell you, but I promised her that I wouldn’t. Please don’t make me break that promise.”

Karen looked at him critically before nodding her head in agreement. “Well, I guess I can’t stop you. But you better let me know if you need me,” she said, pointing her finger at him.

Jake nodded with a smile. “I promise, Mom. And I’ll do you one better. I’ll promise to be safe.”

She smirked, reaching out her hand and patting him on the face. “Good boy.” She turned to leave the library. “Let me know when you’re leaving, please.”

“Will do!” he called as he turned back to his search.

“So what are we looking for?” Charles asked.

Jake described the book to him, remembering loosely what it was even called. Naturally in the seven years since he’d last read it, the book had been moved. A few years back, the entire library had been reshuffled and reorganized. It took a few hours, but with Charles’s help, he finally found it. Jake dramatically kissed the book as he found it. “Really wish I hadn’t just done that,” he muttered to himself. Jake turned to Charles, hugging him. “Thanks, Man. I promise I’ll try not to flake on you.”

Charles nodded understandingly. “Eh, you’re with Amy. You’ll be doing more important things.”

Jake shook his head. “Really?” He rolled his eyes and walked from the library.

It was only a couple hours until sunrise when Jake made it back to Ninenne. He walked through the castle, trying to find Terry and Amy. As he passed the hall with the large fireplace, he found Terry asleep in a chair. Deciding not to wake him, Jake started to leave the room. “Amy?” Terry muttered, waking up.

“Nope,” Jake replied. “Just Jake.”

“Oh, gotcha. How long have you been back? Have you seen Amy?” Terry asked.

“I just got back. Wait, did you lose Amy?” Jake questioned.

“No, she’s somewhere in here. She didn’t feel like being around people, so she hid herself,” Terry explained. “She did that a lot as a kid too.”

“She hid herself?”

“Yeah, she seemed off when you were gone. Sadder.”

“Hmm,” Jake replied. He didn’t know what to make of that. Quickly, Jake left to go find Amy. She wasn’t in her room, so Jake set off for the library. At first glance, he didn’t see her there either. He started to leave the library when he heard a book hit the floor. Turning around, he started scanning the room to see where Amy could be hiding. Suddenly he remembered where Amy used to hide in the library in her castle.

Walking over to the mobile bookcase, Jake pulled the shelf back, revealing the closet-like room where Amy was sitting.

“Jake!” she called. “How did you find me?”

He walked in and sat down next to her chair. The room was tiny. It only fit one arm chair and a table next to it with a lantern. “I wouldn’t have even remembered about this place if I hadn’t heard you drop a book. I couldn’t see you anywhere but I knew you were here. Then I remembered all the times you hid from me.”

“Yeah, until you hid in the stacks and watched me come in so you could figure out where I was going,” Amy recalled fondly.

Jake laughed. “What can I say? I was a smart kid.”

“Sure. You could also add annoying,” Amy teased.

“Well no one ever said I wasn’t,” Jake offered. They laughed together.

“So how was your trip?” Amy asked casually.

Jake dug through his satchel still hanging off his shoulder. He pulled out the book, handing it to Amy. “You tell me.” She smiled as she started rifling through the pages. “Although I did get in trouble with my mom and Charles for bailing for a month.”

Amy looked over at him. “I told you that you could stay.”

Jake fixed her with a blank stare. “I told you I didn’t want to. If I’d have wanted to say, I would have. They understood when I told them why I was there.” Amy’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t tell them. I just said I was helping you with some problems in the kingdom. They have no idea the real reason.”

Amy breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thank you.” Jake nodded. “So let’s see what’s in here.”

It took them a few days to fully get through the book Jake had brought back. Amy wasn’t sure it was any more helpful than any of the other books they’d already read. While it was interesting, it didn’t really give any ideas on how to break her curse. They’d tried so hard to figure out all they could about different types of magic and ways to break those curses or spells, but unless they knew which type was on Amy, it was all pointless.

Amy sighed, looking up from the book in her lap. Jake was asleep against the book he had been reading. Even for being basically nocturnal, they did get kind of sleepy during the nights. Amy couldn’t begrudge Terry or Jake for the times they fell asleep. She couldn’t help but watch Jake as he slept. He wasn’t even in a comfortable position, but he still looked so peaceful. She shook her head as she thought about all the differences in their relationship now versus the last time she’d spent a summer with him.

She looked back on that summer almost fondly. For one, it was the last summer she’d had with her dad. But also, she and Jake had actually had some good times together. From the night in the pub where he’d tried to outdrink her, they’d shared an understanding. Somehow they became friendlier with each other. Jake spent more time trying to make her laugh than trying to annoy her. Granted, he’d always tried to make her laugh over the years, but that year, he’d actually accomplished it more often.

The next summer, Amy still didn’t want to go to Brooklynne, but she didn’t dread it as much as she’d expect it to. With school wrapping up, she wouldn’t let herself evaluate why she might be looking forward to seeing Jake. But then her dad was killed and she was cursed and she didn’t see Jake again for three years. If Amy hadn’t been on a mission to get in, break off the betrothal, and leave as quickly as possible, she might have taken the time to really notice how handsome Jake had become. Or how tall he’d gotten. If she hadn’t left so quickly, she could have spent more time with him and realized that he’d grown kinder in the years that had passed. Or she could have realized how much he’d matured into a caring and thoughtful person.

But she’d fled from Brooklynne that night. As Amy watched Jake sleep, she mentally noted that she was thankful that Jake chased after her. Aside from his help, she was thankful that she got to see all these new sides of him. Jake was a much better man than she’d initially thought he was when he blurted out “Jacktractive” and awkwardly asked if they should get married.

Amy looked back at her book quickly as Jake started stirring. He yawned and picked his head up, looking over at her. “Sorry I dozed off.”

Amy shrugged. “No worries. You probably needed it.” Jake smiled and nodded thoughtfully. “Besides, I love reading and this stuff has trouble keeping even my attention.”

Jake chuckled. “Well I’m glad I’m not alone.” He closed the book he’d formerly been using as his pillow. “If it’s okay, I think I’m going to change directions.” Amy furrowed her brow, unsure of what he meant. “There’s no use in finding out how to break all these different curses unless we know which one he put on you.” Amy nodded in agreement. “So I want to do what I said before and look into who did this.”

“You think we’ll be able to figure it out all this time later?” Amy asked, worried of his answer.

“Of course,” he said confidently. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I think if we went about it the right way, we can do it.”

“And what’s the right way?”

“You don’t think it could be someone who worked in the castle, do you?” Jake asked.

“No, of course not,” Amy replied.

“How can you be so sure?”

Amy sat back in her chair, thinking back on her father. “Because after my mom died, my dad was even more protective than usual. He was always very careful who entered the castle. The people who were hired to work here were extremely checked out. He once told me that after he lost my mom, he wanted to make sure that anyone who was around me wouldn’t be dangerous. He was incredibly cautious.”

Jake stood up, pacing in front of the table. He had started doing this a lot when he had something he was thinking about intensely. “Okay, so we look elsewhere. Could there be a person that was close in line for the throne and thought it would be fun to get your dad and you out of the way?”

Amy thought about that. “I don’t think so. I met with all those people not long after my dad died. I don’t see them making a play for the throne. They were all very supportive of me taking over little by little. I think they were happy to be in line but not actually have to take over the throne.”

“So you definitely think this is someone trying to take over the throne?” Jake asked. Amy nodded. “They must be playing the long game.”

“Maybe they’re waiting long enough for it to not be suspicious if I eat it,” Amy reasoned. Jake scrunched up his face at her suggestion.

“Maybe rather than finding him, we draw him out,” Jake offered.

“How so?”

“He would probably panic if you made it look like you were actually taking over the throne. So we make it look like you’re making preparations to do just that,” Jake explained, a devious grin on his face.

“And how would I do that?” Amy asked.

Jake sat down, deep in thought. Suddenly, he slapped the table, looking at Amy excitedly. “Oh I’ve got it.” Amy nodded for him to continue. “You throw a ball. You call it a coronation ball. Make it a very public thing, and I bet it’ll draw this guy out.”

Amy stared at Jake, thinking about his suggestion. It certainly seemed like a promising idea. “That’s actually a really good idea.”

Terry walked back over sleepily. “What’s a good idea?” he asked through a yawn. Jake and Amy took Terry through their conversations and ideas on how to draw out the perpetrator. Terry nodded approvingly. “That does sound like a good idea. Especially to gain you favor with the kingdom.” He smirked as he looked at Amy. “Plus, you could invite Teddy.”

Amy closed her eyes in embarrassment. “Teddy?” Jake asked. “That guy from the tavern?”

She was close to just trying to drop the conversation when Terry replied. “Yeah. Amy thinks he’s her true love.”

Amy grimaced, trying to gauge Jake’s reaction. She didn’t know why his reaction mattered to her. But she couldn’t deny that at first, shock seemed to cross his face. And there seemed to be a flash of hurt on his face before his poker face was up and he plastered on a grin. As Amy watched Jake’s reaction, it occurred to her that it had been a really long time since she’d thought of Teddy. She’d only mentioned him to Terry right after she was cursed.

“Well, if you think this Teddy is your true love,” Jake began, “why didn’t you invite him over for a makeout session years ago to see if it broke the curse?”

Amy shook her head disgustedly. She didn’t like the way Jake phrased his comment. But more than that, she seemed opposed to Jake discussing Teddy. “He joined the army. He’s been on the other side of the kingdom for a few years now. The tavern was the last time I saw him.”

“Well I happen to know that he’s returned to the village,” Terry said excitedly.

“How?” Amy asked.

“I saw him when I was at the market with Mrs. Smith the other day,” he explained.

“Well great,” Jake replied, seemingly strained. “Hopefully we can throw this ball together in time for him to still be here.”

“Oh he’ll be here for five months,” Terry answered, still with an excited tone.

Jake looked close to rolling his eyes. “You talked to him?” Amy asked.

“He recognized me so we chatted a bit.”

Jake stood back up, walking over by one of the windows. “I still think it’s worth coming up with other ways to find this guy.”

“Teddy?” Amy asked.

“No,” Jake scoffed. “Apparently Terry knows just where to find him.” Amy chuckled. “I mean the evil villain.” He leaned against the wall and looked back at them. “Maybe we need to go looking for him.”

Amy wondered why Jake had so suddenly turned on his idea of a ball. He was so sure that it would draw out the man who’d cursed her. But now he was looking for other ways to do that. Amy tried her best not to evaluate what that could mean. He’d been on board until Teddy was mentioned. “So where do we look?” Amy asked.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Jake challenged. “I mean, you know your kingdom. I’m betting it’s somewhere close. Maybe in one of the nearby villages so he could monitor you.” Amy and Terry nodded, encouraging him to continue. “I’d be willing to bet it’s somewhere you wouldn’t go. So is there some place that even if you haven’t been there, you’re just scared of it? A place that you just avoid?”

Terry was suggesting shadier places throughout the kingdom but Amy was focused on something else. It was a feeling that had been plaguing her for years. She’d never realized what it meant until this moment. It was like continually having a dream and never remembering it in the morning but keeping the feeling of dread. She stood over and walked over by Jake. She wasn’t looking at him, but out the window to a faraway place. Amy’d never thought of this in her human form. The fears she had as a swan rarely carried over once she transformed back. “I know where he is,” she whispered as she stared out the window.

She felt Jake approach her side. He looked out the window with her, as if she saw him. “Where?” he asked gently. “And how?”

“It was what you said,” she told, turning to look at him. “It was brilliant. A place where I’m scared to go.”

“Well where is that?” Terry asked.

“He’s at the Winter Castle,” Amy stated confidently. She felt it in her bones that he had to be there. Nothing else made sense.

“Why do you think that?” Jake asked. Before Amy could answer, he continued. “Also, you have a Winter Castle? How come I’ve never been there?”

“Well you always came during the summer,” Amy reasoned. Jake looked confused. “It’s up in the mountains.”

“Wait, so you go there when it’s winter? That doesn’t make sense,” Jake wondered aloud.

“The real reason we didn’t ever go was because my dad stopped going there. It was basically shut down after my mom died. That was her favorite place and my dad couldn’t face going there without her,” Amy explained.

“So why are you so confident that he’s in the Winter Castle?” Terry asked getting them back on track.

“Because when I’m a swan, I have the freedom to fly wherever I want, right? I mean, I don’t, but I could. For some reason when I’m a swan, I’m always scared to go anywhere near the Winter Castle. It’s just this lingering fear I always have when I’m in that form. And I never thought of it until Jake said that,” Amy said, looking back out the window.

“So you think he’s camped out there?” Jake questioned. Amy looked back at him, nodding. “Then I guess we need to check it out. How far a journey is it?”

“Wait, you think we need to go there?” Amy asked, starting to feel nervous.

“I think that’s a good way to know who we’re up against,” Jake offered. “We could go in disguises so he wouldn’t know it’s us. Ooh, we could say we’re on a mission from the future Queen because she’s planning to take back the castle.”

“Jake, I don’t think we want to piss him off,” Terry replied, a concerned look on his face.

“We have to draw him out somehow,” Jake countered.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Amy said just above a whisper. “But, we’d have really good disguises.”

“We will,” Jake promised with a smile.

“Why do you look so happy?” Amy questioned.

Jake shrugged. “This feels like the first lead we’ve had. That makes me happy.”

The rest of the chapter is on AO3!

#my writing #swan princess au #b99 fanfiction #b99 #jake x amy #peraltiago #brooklyn 99

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