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writingisbetterthandying · 3 years

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Regret - TS pt.2

Warnings: language, alcohol, drunkenness, talks of the war, dark thoughts?, christian reader again, mentions of blood

A/N: im so glad so many ppl liked part one!! we’ll see where this goes lol for now im on mobile and I’ll finish it later hehe

is this fluff? idk maybe

Posted: 3.20.21

part 1 is here! part 3 is here!

Word Count: 1.7k+

- the morning you left, the shelby clan is sitting around the table, staring at their letters silently

- tommy is fiddling with a cigarette, and finn is trying to be sneaky and catch a glimpse of what his favorite person wrote to his siblings

- a range of emotions coursing through the room, but without any words it comes off as tense, the colder weather of the morning not exactly helping

- arthur held a look of remorse

- while not surprised considering his brother’s actions, he was sad to see you go

- also worried for your safety, leaving by yourself to the big city after having never left small heath (besides the war)

- john looked scared, but smirked gently, concealing his concern

- he was lost though; on the inside he had no idea how he would manage without the additional help, as well as what he would say to his children

- they cared for you just as much as you cared for them, and now, while justifiably so, you were gone

- ada had giggled a bit while reading her letter originally, but then with others taking a silent seat, she chose to stare at tommy as menacingly as she could manage instead

- boring holes through his collar with her stares, envisioning some horrifying thing

- despite him being her blood, he pushed you away, and she felt trapped now without the loss of her best friend

- she was unable to talk to pol or her brothers about troubles with freddie, but she also couldn’t talk to freddie about her woes with her family

- the two of you would sit in the kitchen often, usually while the boys first headed off to the garrison, gossiping and laughing up a storm

- one unfortunate instance, not long after the war, the two of you were at that same table, mocking the eldest shelby brothers

- you held your index finger above your upper lip, pretending as if it were a mustache, grumbling on about boxing and whiskey, making your voice gruff and much lower than it’s normal tone

- ada had a crease in her brow, her head held obnoxiously high, maintaining an exaggerated posture, and pretending to hold a cigarette, talking about how she [as tommy] hated anything about happiness, the importance of family while simultaneously ignoring it, keeping her lips slightly pursed

- polly, upon recognizing your absences at the garrison, turned back around to find the two of you, barely keeping it together, while still maintaining your impressions

- the boys then thought something was up, and they too followed in polly’s wake

- it was quite a sight to see you and ada, both more than grown now, giggling away like school children, managing to keep up the personas of ada’s brothers quite well, barely fitting in some jabs in between fits of laugher

- the boys walked in, quite amused upon seeing you two, and polly in the corner with her arms crossed with a stern, but content face, very glad to have seen you loosen up a bit

- the half empty bottle of whiskey had nothing to do with your predicament, whatsoever

- they stood there in silence, wondering when the two of you would notice their presence, but nothing happened until tommy cleared his throat after a remark from ada about tommy’s romantic life that had you laughing uncontrollably, almost falling over in your chair

- “despite the popular opinion of me being a wooer, i am an absolute prick! not even that handsome, either! who am i but the great thomas shelby, destroyer of fun!”

- while ada doesn’t seem to notice the intrusion, you look over, eyes innocently wide, as if you were a child being softly scolded for sneaking a slice of cake, eyes caught with tommy’s

- you quickly gave thanks to god that the discussion hadn’t been about your feelings for the most serious shelby as you would have been overcome with embarrassment

- ada continues to talk, and while you can’t seem to break the gaze formed with tom, soft giggles pass through your lips every so often

- “now y/n, do you think it’s fuckin’ funny to make fun of someone’s voice in that way?” arthur teased, the corners of his lips turning up

- ada was finally made aware of her brothers at this, practically shrieking with laughter

- “she sounded just like you arthur! my god! that’s hilarious!”

- through some drunken giggles you managed to get out a small scolding with some dramatic pauses interspersed

- “ada- you mustn’t- use the lord’s name in-vain”

- “yeah sis, you mustn’t use the lord’s name in vain, aye? wouldn’t want the big man out there to find out! he’d have a right fit seeing you two right now!”

- tommy came to your rescue with a

- “shove off, john boy,” then giving you a small wink

- your face, already flush with alcohol, reddened just a bit more, as you attempted to hide this as best you could

- the boys decided to join you, and while ada let up on her impression, the boys started prodding you in between glasses, practically begging to hear “your arthur, only yours”

- at this ada would attempt to do “her arthur” but to only be received by many boos and jeers

- “not funny!”

- eventually, after an additional glass too many, you stand up quite abruptly despite your inebriation, your index finger returning to it’s previous slot from earlier in the evening

- still slightly wobbly, with drunken hiccups now interrupting your every thought, you crease your brow and puff up your chest, attempting to look as much as the eldest as you can

- “by order of the peaky- fuckin’ blinders!” you shout with the slosh of your glass, the siblings all cheering

- eventually they head up to bed, and you’re left in conversation with tom, now on the sofa in front of the fire, rather the remnants of the fire, it now being very late in the night

- “your eyes are so pretty, tom” you quietly say, a fond gaze glued to his face, as you not so silently admire him

- “thank you love,” his eyes are glued to your face, too- to your kind eyes, slightly hazy, to your soft lips, your sweet words making him blush, not that he’d ever admit it

- you both had changed after the war

- forced to grow up, forced to face horrors you weren’t ready for yet, horrid things no one should see

- lulled into a calm silence, your loss of filter prods you to ask him a question

- “tommy? do you get nightmares?”

- since coming back from france, neither of you had spoken about what you had seen, feeling shamed, feeling scared, feeling broken

- “every night love. i close my eyes and im back there- back in the tunnels, back in the darkness.” you nodded in understanding

- he didn’t know why he was being so candid, he would say it was the drinks passed around that evening, but it really would be the comfort he felt in your presence, that safety and warmth

- “that first month i cried myself to sleep almost every night, tom. tried to convince myself it was a nightmare, then a shell hit 40 meters from the tent, and i thought i had died. i felt glad tom, glad! and then i was crushed. not because i was alive, though partially so, but because i was so willing to leave everything behind, leave everyone behind.”

- he sat with you, hanging on to every word, recognizing and relating to your sadness a bit too closely

- but he let you continue, seeing the tears forming in your eyes

- “other nights, the nightmares are of you, tom. or my brother,” since the funeral, you hadn’t mentioned your brother who passed

- as you continue, the tears start to fall, picking up into sobs as you go on

- “you’re brought to my station, or maybe it’s arthur, or john, but it’s always you, tom, and you’re bleeding so much, and you’re pale, like that day in france, but there’s just so much red and the blood-your blood covers my hands and i suddenly forget all my training and i’m screaming because you’re dying and i can’t do anything and then you’re gone. you can’t leave me like that, tom. you leave and then i wake up and i’m just- i cry and red is all i see and my hands are moving as if i could help, but it’s too late, and it’s just so fucking scary tom.”

- he pulled you into his embrace, kissing your forehead, murmuring quiet reassurances as you grasp onto his shirt like a lifeline, still slightly shaken

- “you’re home now love, yeah? i’m safe too, and i’m not planning on leaving you anytime soon. you’re safe. i’m here.”

- your tears quiet down and the two of you eventually fall asleep, the exhaustion of talking of france and the drinking from earlier catching up to you both

- in the morning you wake up before him, and luckily, the rest of the family, and continue quietly sneaking out to go home and sober up before returning for work

- that night had been the brightest in a while

- the shroud of darkness lifted, with lots of memories to laugh over in the coming months, despite the new darkness slowly rolling in again with the money and success of the races

- you and tommy never addressed what was discussed in the quiet hours of the evening again

- but you so desperately wanted to reach out, to be held by him again

- he wanted nothing more to hold you, to help you through your nightmares, despite his own lack of control for his own

- but he also made the choice and kept his distance

- so he started picking fights with anything you said, the light, joking manners of your relationship crumbling in front of both of your eyes

- he also started spending more time away, with grace, with anybody but you, it seemed

- and you would just have to keep on reminding yourself how other people still did depend on you, but after that day, all the horrid things he did say, it broke you

- and so you left him without a letter, without a proper goodbye

- and he had never felt more alone than when he did, sitting at that table, his family finally discussing parts of their letters, parts of their memories, while also selfishly holding onto their own, keeping it that way

- and tommy shelby felt remorseful, even guilty, and wanted to beg and grovel at your feet for forgiveness

- but you were on the train, long on your way to london by now

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada shelby #finn shelby #polly gray #peaky blinder fanfic

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pascalscenarios · 3 years

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HOW TO LOVE (Marcus Pike x Reader)

HOW TO LOVE

Marcus Pike x Reader

Summary: After a year being broken up with your ex, you move into a studio appartment just outside of Washington D.C. for a fresh start. You best friend gets your a job at the prestigious art museum he runs, and you have an encounter with someone you recognize.

Warning: None

Words: 3471

Author's Note: Surprise!!! AHH first chapter for How To Love! I’m excited for this one! I hope you guys in enjoy it! Let me know if you want to be on the tag list for this or the on main! Also if you asked and I didn’t put you in, I’m sorry, please remind me!

- K

Chapter 1

“Alright, this was the last one in the truck,” Your father says as he sets the container on the ground next to the others. Your father had helped you pack up and move your belongings from your hometown in Virginia to an apartment complex that was just outside of Washington D.C.

“Thanks, Dad.” You were grateful for his help.

“Do you want me to stay and help you unpack?” He was looking at the large boxes and containers piled on top of each other in the middle of your small studio apartment.

“No, that’s okay. I got it.” You smile slightly.

“You gonna be alright?” He says stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You sigh, “I think so…” you turn your head to look around your small apartment. “I’m a little nervous, but I needed to do this...you know, move away from town and start fresh.”

“I know you do. If you ever need anything, your mother and I are a call away and a 45-minute drive.” He reassures you.

“Thank you, Dad. I love you.” You walk towards him, hugging him.

Your father wraps his arms around you, planting a kiss on your head. “I love you too. Call me if you need anything, yeah” He says, pulling away from you. You nod at him.

You both walk over to your front door. He opens it, stepping outside.

“Bye, Dad! Drive safe!” You call out as he walks down the steps and onto the walkway. You stand by the second-floor railing, looking down as he walks to his truck. He turns his body, looking up at you, giving you a wave. You watch him get into his truck, he honks, signaling a goodbye as he drives out of the parking lot.

You go back into your apartment shutting the door. You lean back against it, taking everything in. It was your first time truly living alone. You had spent years living with your ex in your hometown. He treated you terribly. You were constantly on-again, off-again with him. He had cheated on you a few times. You tried your hardest to make things work with him.

One day he decided that he was done with you, breaking things off and kicking you out of your shared apartment. You being a grown adult had to move back in with your parents. You spent a year in a tough place mentally, you decided you needed to get out of town and move somewhere else, have a fresh start, a clean slate. You needed more than what your hometown gave you.

Your best friend Elliot lived in D.C. working as a museum director at a prestigious art museum. He had offered you a job at the museum and even helped set you up with an apartment. You were nervous being on your own, but you knew you needed this time to grow as an individual.

You pushed yourself off the door, walking further into the open space. You stand there staring at all the boxes and containers. Your apartment was small. Only livable for two people, but it was perfect, and it was yours.

“Alright, let’s get to it.”

You had spent several hours getting things unpacked and organizing. You had managed to build your bed frame and set up your bed near the long and large windows. You placed your clothes into the narrow closet, set up your toiletries in the bathroom, and put kitchen appliances away. You needed to stock up your cabinets and fridge with food, so you decided to head to the grocery store.

You headed to the store in your pj’s. After your dad left, you had changed into something comfortable. You wore a worn-out Star Wars t-shirt, sweatpants, and your pink bunny slippers. You didn’t care if you rolled up to the grocery store like this. No one knew you and you knew one.

As you enter the grocery store and grab a shopping cart, your phone rings. You set your bag in the child seat, pulling out your phone. You looked at the caller ID, it was Elliot. You pick up the call, placing your phone against your ear, your other hand grabbing a hold of the cart’s handle.

“Hello?” you said, as you maneuver your cart around and in through the aisle.

“Hey! How’s it going? Do you make it to your apartment okay?” Elliot greets you.

“Hi, El…” you smile, “Yeah I did. My dad helped me out. We piled all my crap in the back of his truck. He drove it down, while I drove my car with the rest of my crap in it. I’m grocery shopping right now. The apartment is great by the way! Thank you for everything. Helping me get this apartment and setting me up with a job. I appreciate it. I can’t thank you enough” you say, picking up several Cup Noodles, tossing them into the cart.

“Of course! Don’t worry about it. That piece of shit put you through so much, you deserve to start fresh and to thrive! Maybe in D.C., you’ll find yourself a new guy…”

You scrunch up your face at what he said “Ehhh I don’t know about that…'' You traveled down the aisle picking up different snacks, foods, and drinks off the shelf.

He tries to encourage you, “You’ve been single for a while now. You should try to put yourself out there, meet some people.”

“I don’t know… I just don’t think I’m ready yet. He messed me up pretty bad, Elliot. I’m scared to get back into dating, you know?” you say sadly.

“And you have every right to feel that way, but not everyone is going to be like him. You’ll find the right person for you. It doesn’t hurt to try, but wherever you’re ready, I say go for it. Who knows, maybe you’ll run into someone in the grocery store.”

“Haha very funny, '' you say sarcastically, but you could help but laugh.

“Alright, I gotta run. I just wanted to check up on you. I’ll let you get back into shopping, but just a reminder, you to start work Monday, bright and early at 7:00 AM sharp.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then, love you.”

“I love you too! Bye!”

“Bye” you pull the phone away from your face, hanging up, and placing it back in your bag. You continued to shop. The majority of your cart was filled with your comfort junk foods, a few fruits and vegetables, and canned foods.

You knew the change of living in a new area and apartment was going to be different and a bit of getting used to. You wanted to have your favorite things to bring you some sense of joy and ease...and alcohol. Yes, you need to get a bottle.

You were turning the corner into an aisle with the alcohol when your cart collided with another person's cart that was leaving the aisle.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” You gasp at the man in surprise. He was a little bit taller than you. He wore a plain t-shirt, jeans, and shoes. Short brown hair, brown eyes, and he rocked a mustache and beard. You couldn’t lie, the man was handsome.

“It’s alright! I should be apologizing too, I bumped into you as well!” he chuckled. His eyes took notice of your outfit of choice.

Suddenly you felt shy and self-conscious about our outfit. You began to feel insecure that he was somewhat checking you out. I mean you wore PJs to the store, of course, you knew some people would stare and secretly judge you.

His gaze landed at your feet. He cocked his head to the side and smiled “Nice bunny slippers.”

“T-thanks..” you stuttered.

He must have noticed you were growing uncomfortable because he tried to lighten the mood. “I really should get myself a pair, they look comfy…I could see myself rocking some bunny kicks,” he joked.

You nod your head “Well make sure to wear them at home and not at the grocery store... along with your pj’s.. make sure you wear those at home as well because then you’ll end up going to the grocery store looking like a fool...” you mentally cringed. You didn’t mean to say your thoughts out loud. You were making this interaction more awkward than it needs to be. You just wanted to get your bottle of wine and leave.

You grab a hold of your cart, moving it into the space beside him to get into the aisle.

“I don’t think you look like a fool, it's a look. Matter of fact, I would kill to be in some Pj’s and bunny slippers all day. I live in work suits for my job. I hate it.”

“I say start a petition for pajama day at your work.”

He laughs. “I might just do that… I’m Mar-”

“Well, hopefully, that goes well for you. Good luck.” You gave him a small and quickly made your way down the aisle. Your heart was beating against your chest. You had to get out there. You picked up a bottle of red wine off the shelf and put it in the cart. You looked back to see the man, but he was gone.

…

You spent the rest of your weekend setting up and organizing the rest of your apartment. You had a few things left to do like setting up your tv, but other than that your apartment was done.

It was 5:00 AM, Monday morning, you woke up super early to get ready for work. You didn't want to be late. You took a shower, did your hair, and got dressed. You looked out yourself in the bathroom mirror after you finished getting ready. You were dressed professionally. You felt a little silly, but you were going to be working at a fancy art museum. You spent the past year living in pj’s, shirt and shorts. It’s been a while since you had to dress up.

Leaving your bathroom, you walk over to your kitchen grabbing your reusable tumbler cup filled with ice coffee. You head over the door, slipping on your flats, grabbing your keeps and bag off the hook, and heading out to your car.

By the time you made it into the city, it was almost 7. The traffic wasn’t too bad. You managed to find street parking, putting in a bunch of coins into the meter.

Walking up to the building you were in awe. It was a wide building with tall and long glass windows in the front. You walk up to the stairs, opening the glass door. The lobby was a large space There was an information desk a few feet off to the side of the entrance, along with stairs leading upstairs. Benches and few art sculptures on display throughout the room. Bathrooms and elevators are located on the middle far back wall. Exhibits were down the halls on the left and right side of the bathroom and elevators, and upstairs.

Workers and custodians traveled around the room, preparing to open the museum in about an hour.

You hear Elliot call after you. You look up noticing Elliot coming down the stairs.

“El!” You smiled walking towards him.

“Ah! I can’t believe you’re here!” He embraced you into a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here in D.C. with me. We"ll get to hang out all the time now."

You laugh. “I'm excited! Thanks again for getting me a job. I feel kinda bad though. Like technically I skipped the whole interview phase and got the job. Isn’t that kind of abuse to your position?”

“Seriously it’s fine and I’m the Museum Director, I call the shots around here.”

“Elliot…” You say under your breath.

Elliot rolled his eyes, “Come on, you know what you mean. I’m responsible for the operation of the whole place and I know you better than anyone, I trust you.”

You still couldn’t believe Elliot was in charge of this whole museum.

“Come on, I'll give you a tour of Clemonte!”

...

Elliot gave you a tour of the Museum’s exhibits and even behind the scene things that the public doesn’t get to see. The museum had such beautiful pieces of artwork. This place was amazing. You loved it. There was so much more you wanted to see, but you only had enough time to see part of it. Maybe during your free time, you’d look around to discover the rest.

“So, what do you think?”

“Wow, this place is stunning” you stay as you both make it back to the lobby.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“I’m alright. I’m a bit nervous I’m not going to lie.” You pull away.

“Nothing to be nervous about, you’ll be fine.” He reassures you.

“So do I have to call you Mr. Regan, boss man?” you giggled.

“Pff, no one calls me that. I feel so old when people call me that. Everyone just calls me Elliot.”

“So” he claps his hands together. “You’re going to be working at the Visitors Information desk.” He says pointing to the large and round information desk near the stairs.

“El, I just got here I don’t know anything!” Your eyes widen.

“You’ll be fine, and besides you’ll be working with Ms. Laurie, she’s been here for years. She’ll teach you everything you’ll need to know. And don’t worry, we have a list and maps where everything is you can refer to.’’

“Come on” his head points in the direction of the desk.

“Hi, Ms. Laurie!” He smiles brightly at the woman. She looked about to be in her late 60’s.

“Good Morning, Elliot!” she beams.

He introduces you to Laurie. “This is my friend, the one I was telling you about. She’s going to be working with you.”

“Ah yes! Hello dear! It’s lovely to meet you! I’m so glad you’re working with me!” She holds out your hand to take.

You take her hand. “It’s nice to meet you too! I’m excited.”

“Alright well, She’s yours now, Ms. Laurie, let her have it. This is for you,” Elliot hands you your ID badge.

“Where the hell did you get this photo?” You say scrunching your face at this old and outdated photo of you.

“I pulled it off your mom facebook- Also, The FBI are coming it today-”

“My mom’s Facebook- Wait, the FBI? Why what happened?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“The FBI has a specific bureau that deals with international art theft, the Art crime team or they call himself the Art Squad. Sometimes they come in here to do research, sting operations, stuff like that, so don’t worry if you see a bunch of them waltz in here. They come around a lot.”

“Oh..o-okay.”

“Alright, I gotta go, I have a ton of meetings today, but have a good day, love you, if you need anything let me know!” He shouted quickly as he speeds walked off.

“We’re going to be opening in about half an hour, I better get started with teaching you the basics” Laurie announced. “Come dear, you can put your things over here.” She pushes open the short desk door that came up to about your hips, letting your step into the desk area.

Laurie gave you a rundown on the layout of the museum and most frequently asked areas such as where the most popular art exhibits, bathrooms, and the gift shop.

“You got everything?” Laurie asked you.

“I think so. Just a lot of stuff to memorize.” “I know hun, but once you get the hang of it, it’s going to be a breeze! You’ll know it like the back of your hand!” She chuckles. “You’ll get it in no time, if you need any help, I’m here, or you can use the maps and lists we have sprawled all around here.” She motions to the piles of paper around the desk.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Laurie.” You smiled.

…

Once the museum is open, you have a bunch of people come to the visitor's information center asking you questions. Some you were able to answer, others you had to ask Laurie or use the resources you had.

It was noon. Nothing happened, a few people came to stop by, many of the families with young children were leaving, probably headed to see multiple other museums. You noticed a group of men and women walk in. They were all wearing suits. You assumed that it was the FBI agents. They all stood in the middle of the lobby, one man stood in front of the group, giving them instructions.

The group disbanded, pairs of agents headed towards different areas and wings of the museum. You went back to filling out an information form. An Elementary school had called wanting to have a field trip. You filled out the information on the form for the school, and It had to be sent up to Elliot later to get approval.

“Do you happen to know where I can get some bunny slippers?”

“Excuse m-” You quickly lift your head from the form. Standing in front of you was the guy from the grocery store, learning to gain the counter.

He smiles at you. “I see you aren’t wearing pj’s today and no bunny slippers, damn” he joked.

You chuckled slightly. “W-well I’m working. I have to dress professionally. Guess your petition for pj’s fell through, huh?”

“Yeah, no one was down for it, but I still want some bunny slippers. Where’d you get yours?”

“um...Amazon..”

“Alright, I’ll make a mental note...I saw you when I came in. I didn’t know you worked here. How come I’ve never seen you before?” He asked.

“I-I’m new, I just started today actually…” you fiddled with the pencil in your hand. You were growing nervous.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other then…”

You swallowed hard. What was he getting at? “Oh, are we now-” You looked down at his ID badge that was clipped to his outer suit pocket that had the FBI in bold letters.

“Special Agent Pike” you read his name badge.

“Marcus” he held out his hand

You don’t take it. You were nervous. You had no idea what the Marcus guy wanted with you, and you weren’t looking for anything right now. Marcus Pike may seem all cute and harmless, but the next thing you know, he’ll be breaking your heart into two. He was probably trying to play nice to get in your pants.

After everything that happened with your boyfriend, you guarded yourself, bordering your heart with thick walls. You weren’t gonna let just anyone in. You had to protect your heart from things that hurt you in the past. You didn’t want to go through that pain again so it was better to keep walls up. You didn’t want to let anyone new into your life.

He moves his hand to scratch behind his head.

“So you gonna tell me your name?”

“No”

“No?”

“Why should I tell you my name?”

“I don’t know, because that’s what you do when you meet someone you new and you know what to call them by?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Well, you’re an FBI agent. If you wanna know, use your investigation skills and figure it out.” With that picked up paper, turning around in your hair, and walking over to the fax machine.

Marcus stood there confused. You were being nice, but then switched on a dime? Was it sometimes he said? He didn’t know what happened, but if you weren’t going to tell him, he just had to figure it out.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him walk off to the elevators. You sign in relief.

“I see you were talking to Marcus Pike.” Laurie chimed in coming out from your guy's office. “He’s a really nice guy.”

“Is he really or is that just a front to get into people's pants?” You asked, continuing to stare at him.

Laurie gasped in surprise, “Marcus Pike? No! He's such a sweetheart and very well mannered, ask anyone here, they'll tell you that.”

You sigh, now you felt kinda bad, you switched and judged him too quickly. You had trust issues that you needed to work on. You sign rubbing your face. You might have screwed up.

“I know he may be a little cocky and comes off a bit strong, but he’s a great guy once you get to know him.”

He gets in the elevator turning around. You two lock eyes, but you quickly look away back down to the fax machine.

You look back up noticing the elevator doors have closed.

“We’ll see about you, Agent Pike…”

Main Tag: @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso

#the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pike #Pedro Pascal #pedro #pascal

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fanfoolishness · 3 years

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Time to yell about The Redemption! Din please don’t die ;__;

The other Mandalorians... it’s just not fair dammit

And I’m still not over Kuiil! I will never forget you, Ugnaught!

This is the same bag that Din carries him in later, isn’t it? Reduce, reuse, recycle.

AND DON’T YOU DARE HIT THE BABY

The entire scout trooper sequence is fucking hilarious

[TROOPER 1 BLOWS RASPBERRY, BEATBOXES]

yes that is the actual subtitle my friends

They’re terrible shots, that’s why they’re stuck on speeder duty

I like that this scout trooper armor maximizes pouches. So many pouches

That’s it, “oh my god” is canonical. It’s still better than “oh my force”, sometimes, you just gotta go with the classics

IG-11 ain’t nothing to fuck with

“I’m sorry, nurse” these guys are so polite when they aren’t beating my son

I love IG-11’s inherent awkwardness, the jankiness of Star Wars is the best

I hadn’t realized that Cara’s gatling blaster was a gift from Din, right? Because she didn’have any on Sorgan. Awww, friend gifts!

Decommissioned Mandalorian hunter Din Djarin has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore —

The way Din just startles and stares because who knows that name, why does he know that name —

You always think terrible things live in the dark, monsters that lurk in the shadows where you can’t see them and the mind plays tricks. But sometimes monsters are there, glaringly and awfully, out in the open, beneath a blinding sun on a warm day, and there’s no comforting darkness to hide in anymore.

IG-11 just coming in here to ruin this platoon’s entire career

Greef: spotchkaing on the fly

Grogu: delighted

IG-11: fucking shit up

Din and Greef about to start shit!

Din: master of found weapons

I always headcanon Din as having a fractured skull from the concussive WHOOMPH of the explosion, possibly some damage to the neck and throat as well... dammit inquiring minds that have a disturbing enjoyment of whump want to know the exact extent of this man’s injuries

His hands are all limp and loosely curled when Cara drags him over the threshold :( :( :(

Din’s quiet. He’s calculating. Realizing how badly he’s hurt, how he’ll slow the others down. Doesn’t speak until it’s to say “I’m not gonna make it.”

“Leave me” and the blood on her hand DON’T BREAK MY HEART DIN DJARIN / PEDRO PASCAL

His voice! His voice is killing me! Ragged and breathless and pained and determined and I’m just gonna go... be... over there...

(Crying, I’ll be crying.)

(Rewinds) (watching this whole sequence again)

“You make sure the Child is safe!” *cue me blubbering forever*

[BREATHES SHAKILY] “You tell them it’s from Din Djarin” man whoever was doing these subtitles knew WHAT WAS UP ;_;

“You tell them the foundling was in my protection” he’s so fucking determined even though he can’t hardly breathe, even though he knows he’s dying and knows it’s hopeless, still though, maybe they can get the child out —

(But I have to say the flame trooper is cool as hell)

Did Grogu know how badly hurt Din was? Did he sense it through the Force? Did he understand?

Grogu death count: 1

That meta about Cara asking IG-11 to bring his BODY just kills me

Din’s voice is trying to be all tough now that he’s faced with IG-11, his voice noticeably gets lower and harder — until it cracks into breathlessness again because again, hi, DYING

The gasping raise of the blaster, my god, you are so STUBBORN DIN!

IG-11 actually looked confused, and Din actually was with it enough to understand he needed to give an explanation of “It is forbidden”

“No living thing has seen me without my helmet since I sw— swore the Creed” he gasped brokenly and my heart just shriveled up and then exploded because Pedro’s voice is just a weapon of mass destruction right here

Din: utterly confused to have his face showing

Cara: shoves baby, grabs friend

Thank god for bacta amirite

The way he slowly turns the light on his helmet off when he sees what’s in front of him... oh man this is making me tear up. It was rough when I first watched it, but I hadn’t spent the nearly the amount of time thinking about Din’s role within the covert and what the Mandalorians meant to him and it’s just awful. It’s such a terrible pain he even considers abandoning Grogu — that’s how bad it is. “You go, take the ship. I can’t leave it this way.”

Don’t think about the Armorer in the tunnels in the dark alone among the ruin of her people, both bone and beskar fallen, nope, don’t think about it :)

The Armorer, confused as hell about Din and the kid

“I know of such things”; Din Djarin *confused headtilt*

Ohhhh Armorer why did you say he had no choice but to reunite it with its own kind, this man absolutely will take you literally ;_;

I still want to do a comic or a little fic about Din doing training sessions with the Rising Phoenix

I miss the Armorer

Wonder why Din never brings the Amban rifle to finales

The Armorer’s fight scene is still the SHIT

I forgot about the fucking monstrosity that is an R2 unit with fucking giant long skeleton legs

Awww the fire ferrets

“But you’ll be destroyed”

“I’m not... sad.” Will always kill me. He’s just lost Kuiil and the Mandalorians completely, the idea of losing another ally, even one as strange as this, it’s just too much right now, it’s too much for him, and yes, he’s sad!!!

When I think about how much Din’s head must have hurt doing that maneuver with the Rising Phoenix and Gideon’s fighter, just, OUCH

“Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters!” <3

When Grogu grabs hold of Din’s leg Din just... completely loses interest in Greef and Cara’s conversation. It’s not until Greef physically nudges him that Din remembers to look up and pay some attention. He’s too busy looking at the kid, and about to reach down for him when Greef nudges him.

Kuiil’ s cairn ;_;

“I didn’t think I’d see this again.” You know. Because I almost died. JESUS DIN STOP HURTING ME LIKE THIS

But he gives it to Grogu and I hope Grogu plays with it and looks at it all the time when he’s with Luke ;_;

Seriously though, how did 1) Gideon get the Darksaber, and 2) Din has a silver pram in S2 but Kuiil’s pram should have got blown up in the Client’s hideout, so what gives? They didn’t bring it with them through the lava river sooo?

Thank you Taika Waititi!

This art though 🤩

I’ll admit when I first saw Din’s face I was pretty disappointed. I’d grown to love him just as he was with the helmet, and underneath, he was just some regular man? With, unaccountably, a mustache??? With his hair like THAT and covered in blood and sweat? It definitely wasn’t love at first sight. I was almost disappointed they’d shown his face only 8 episodes in and thought, “oh, great, S2 is going to have him showing his face all over the place like it wasn’t a big deal at all.” And I’m so happy that they continued that conflict and deepened it so that when we got moments like in The Believer and The Rescue it really meant something incredibly huge to see his face again. So curious to see where they take S3.

#the mandalorian #Pedro pascal #din djarin #the mandalorian meta #not really haha #my mando meta

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bladesquall · 3 years

Text

Nights of Dragons and Genies: Chapter 1

Chapter 1: "Work of the Smith Dragon"

The town of Witherbrand was quite a close-knit community. Despite the numerous species that lived there--from the versatile humans to the aged and experienced elves, to the calm and passive halflings and the boisterous orcs, even the sharp gnomes and the ever-curious goblins, Witherbrand was a very blended town. It wasn't really famous for a lot, but it had representatives of almost every race on the continent of Odiosera.

The fires of the smithy burned bright, as the metal inside of the heat glowed brightly in the dark of the shop. Weapons, armor, tools, horseshoes, and all sorts of objects made from metals decorated the shop. A giant warhammer with a dragon-shaped hammerhead hung from the wall with a sign that said, “Do Not Touch”. The hill dwarf smith, wearing a black mask over his face, a brown apron over his red shirt, and brown pants with black thick boots, grabbed the piece of metal with a black glove-clad right hand and held it over an anvil. The dwarf grabbed his smithing hammer and began pounding away at the hot metal. His hand kept a firm grip on the non-heated part, allowing him to calmly shape the heated metal, turning it into a sword. Once he was satisfied with the shape of the weapon, he quickly turned to a nearby cooling tub and dunked the sword into it.

As the dwarf cooled the weapon, a red-haired human male walked in, wearing a set of fine blue and black clothing, complete with a black cape. He gave the smith an annoyed glare as he didn't look back, and raised an arm to wave.

"One second!" the dwarf called. "Gotta let that project cool." He walked over to the desk, flipped the helmet up, revealing a red-headed dwarf with a pair of thick sideburns and a short mustache that culminated with a short beard. The dwarf greeted, "Welcome to the Forgefang Hall! I'm Gunnar Fireforge. Are you interested in a particular product, or do you have a custom order in mind?"

"Seriously, Gargec?" the noble asked aloud. Gunnar's eyes widened at the name. "Fifteen years since you gave up your position as heir, you could have done anything, been anyone, ruled wherever you pleased in Odiosera, and I find you simply living amongst the lesser beings... as a common dwarf smith? 'Gunnar Fireforge' was the best alias you could come up with? You couldn't even bother creating a noble identity?"

"Stratreo," Gargec frowned. "I should question what you're doing here, but there is a tone of hypocrisy, considering you're disguised as a human, right now."

"Only because Father ordered me to not just burn the Odioseran countryside we allow these weak vermin to occupy down looking for you," Stratreo answered. "And until he either retires, dies, or I make my move to properly challenge him for leadership, his word is the law. Of course, big brother, accidents CAN happen. That is unless you obey his order to assemble." He then pulled a letter from his pocket and handed it to the dwarf.

"Father truly wants me to return?" Gargec asked opening the sealed letter. His eyes scanned the contents of the letter.

My son,

If you are reading this, then Stratreo finally tracked you down after all of this time. You certainly kept quiet when you renounced your title as my heir. You impress, Gargec with your desire for privacy.

But our people's politics have called for an end to this silence, and your exile. I am ordering all members of Tribe Raithwall--you included--to return to Raithwall territory. The fate of our people is on the line, and it's going to require ALL of us to decide this. We will begin the assembly on the first day of the Waxing Cachou Moon, and I'd like my sons to be by my side when we decide this.

Gargec, I know I'm asking a hell of a lot by calling you back, but... I feel that the fate of our people is about to be decided are going to need you to return. I'm not going to ask for you to retake your position as heir. I'm asking you to be a voice of reason in the next coming moons. We will need it, especially once Stratreo finally inherits the position. Please, son... come home.

Raithwall Tultoc

"You weren't the easiest to track down," the human replied as Gargec dropped the letter. "But yes... Clan Raithwall is being summoned together. Now, we can do this the easy way or the fun way. Your choice."

"Just let me add the finishing touch on this project, brother," Gargec said, looking at the scimitar.

"It looks complete to me," Stratreo observed. "Brother, why waste yourself on such insignificant drivel such as these lesser beings' mere cutlery they call 'weapons'?"

"The smaller races have a lot to teach us," Gargec answered, walking over to grab the sword, and held it up to Stratreo. "Tell me something, brother: what do you know about the 'smallfolk'? What trait is each of their races famous for?"

"You ask that like it matters," Stratreo scoffed. "These creatures are mere parasites on Skyeria. We only let them live because of tributes of wealth and food."

"That's it?" Gargec asked in disappointment. "It seems that somebody ignored the lessons about other races in Odiosera." Pointing to the sword, Gargec began, "This blade was made with the techniques of dwarven artisans who dedicate their lives to creating the sturdiest weapons and armor. It was made with the metals found by orcs, who take pride in their combat skills and strength. The goblins' style of experimentation taught me how to fold and forge pieces like this and more, encouraged by their sheer determination through trial and error. Lupine unity taught me how it was okay to ask for help and advice when I wasn't improving during my first few weeks at smithing.

"Gnomish research allowed me to understand where I came up short, and how to improve my technique, even inventing a style that works for me the same way a gnome would. The halflings' calm, cool, and collected nature and peaceful ways taught me how to properly barter and haggle to fetch a good price for all of the components, and their luck taught me how to know what was the best deals. Kitsune wit makes one question if the material is legitimate or an illusion. Felkin wit and speed taught me how to predict when the metal is just hot enough to work on or cooled enough to pull out of the water. Featharian sharpness showed where to spot imperfections. Human creativity taught me how to think outside of the box. And elven magic... well, I learned this from elves."

He reached behind his desk counter and grabbing a small, teal and brown chest. He then placed it atop the counter and opened it to reveal the collection of glowing stones shining in the shop's dimmed light. He picked one out and placed it into the hilt of the weapon before clipping the hole he had inserted the stone in shut, causing the blade to glow with a dark green hue.

"Enchantment," Gargec smirked. "And the patience of our true race made this possible. And this is only a sample of what the races of Skyeria can teach us... imagine what we can learn from studying the smallfolk more closely."

"Has anybody tell you that you talk far too much, older brother?" Stratreo asked.

"I get excited," Gargec said. "The humanoids that are easily written off by our kind as mere fodder, when given a chance, can not only impress us with a mere fraction of their capabilities... they can offer us something legendary with the full extent. Humanoids will rule this world, one day, Stratreo, and I'm excited to see what they'll bring to it."

"You should be excited that your self-imposed exile is finally coming to an end," Stratreo scoffed. "Now, I have orders to bring you home, but Father wants it to be YOUR decision. So, I'm going to ask this one last time: are you going to come on your own, or am I destroying this little life you've built and dragging you back?"

"No need," Gargec answered his brother with a wave. "I'll pack this place up." Stratreo finally offered a smile.

"Glad you're seeing things my way," the younger of the brothers declared. He then hunched over, only for Gargec to stop him.

"Not in here," the dwarf begged.

"Fine," Stratreo scoffed. "One hour, by the gate. If you're not there... I'm not going to be held responsible for what happens." He then left, leaving Gargec to look around.

“Fifteen years, huh?” Gargec asked. “We dragons live way too long for this to feel so short.” He began packing his supplies, taking one final look around the shop. He then looked at the fire that he once used for his shop. "Here's hoping it's not the worst-case scenario." He then inhaled, causing the fires to suddenly die out as Gargec, formerly Gunnar, absorbed the magical flame that burned bright, leaving the shop in darkness save for daylight.

When someone would later come to the shop to place an order, almost an hour later, they would find a locked door with a note placed on it:

Attention, Citizens of Witherbrand:

Due to unforeseen circumstances, Forgefang Hall shall be closed until further notice. And if I do not return or write back in a month, assume I’m dead and return the shop and the land to the town... or better yet, quite possibly leave Witherbrand altogether. The dragon clans that rule the continent may be preparing for war with each other. I apologize that I cannot explain the reasons for my sudden departure beyond that. But know that I’ve grown to care about this town enough to risk everything for its safety. So I plan to name my final piece created here after the town itself, to carry a part of it with me.

Sincerely,

Gunnar Fireforge

A.K.A.,

Raithwall Gargec

On the outskirts, Gargec looked at the town of Witherbrand, a familiar warhammer hanging from his back, and a bag of things he took from his shop adorned to his side. Stratreo rolled his eyes.

“These small, weak creatures live such quick, insignificant lives,” the human scoffed. “They’re parasites on Skyeria. Without guidance, they’re barely good for food, let alone worshipping us as gods. One day, they’ll be nothing but dust, and yet, we’ll be here for millennia. Why bother with them?”

“Because eventually, you’ll figure out we’re not immortals,” Gargec reasoned. “And they, the weak, will inherit this world, outliving us as a species. If I can build them up… forge our successors… make them remember us for the good we did for them… then THAT is the definition of godhood for me.” He then hunched over, and a pair of brass-colored, leathery, scaled wings sprouted. He then was surrounded by fire, and in his place stood a massive brown and yellow dragon.

A red and yellow dragon, somewhat smaller than Gargec, stood by him. “You are incredibly lucky we’re brothers and I’ve yet to become Chief, Gargec. Any other dragon who would have suggested that would find themselves eviscerated under my rule.” With a mighty roar, Stratreo took to the skies, Gargec behind him.

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fedeipox · 3 years

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The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 2 (3/3)

The day has finally come!! I post this one and run in the leaving room where my beautiful Christmas Tree is waiting to be decorated! Am I the only one who loves Christmas so desperately?

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/636417099433164800/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-2-13

Part 2 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/636678045617537024/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-2-23

Chapter 2 (3/3) - Like King Arthur?

Words: 3,4k

The landscape was changing. Finally they had left the mountain, the ground was plainer, the grass visible under that poor snow that still persisted, too stubborn to let the sun melt it, and the path they were following was leading them from forests to open fields and then to rivers.

Emily had no idea of which time was it, but a dull rumbling of her stomach told her it was time to pull those oatcakes out to finish them. She opened the buttons of the bottle-green coat and unzipped her sweatshirt just what was necessary to put a hand inside and take the tin box she had hidden in there.

Feeling the eyes of the old man on her, she turned to look at him and showed him the box.

“You want some?” she asked.

“Nah, thank you. Never liked them” he replied shaking his hand in denial.

“Trust me, right now, they are the best thing I’ve ever had” she replied turning around.

“Hey, Jack. You want some?” she asked to the kid, who stood up to put a hand inside the box and took out one of the big round cookies.

Emily made the same gesture to the freckled woman who looked at her out of the corner of her eye in some kind of hostility.

It was true she wasn’t planning to stay with them, but that was no reason why she had to be rude, or not make amends for her behavior.

“I’m sorry for last night. I was a piece of shit. Oops… sorry Jack” she addressed the boy, who looked at her as he kept chewing his oatcake.

“It’s just… I was scared, I am scared, and… when I’m scared I have the tendency to lose my mind.”

The woman fixed her eyes on the bottom of the wagon among the boxes, carpets and bedrolls, purposefully not looking back at her.

“Peace” said Emily shaking the oatcake box in her direction.

The woman sighed and took one as a way to accept her apology.

“I’m Emily. I think you got it, by now. What’s your name?”

“Molly.”

“You’re Irish, aren’t you? Or Scottish? I’m not good with accents.”

“My family came from Ireland, yes.”

She didn’t sound like she was in the mood for conversation.

“What about you, Mister? What’s your name?” she asked to the nice grandpa.

“You can call me Uncle, dear.”

“Uncle?” Emily laughed. “Don’t you have a real name?”

“No-one knows his real name” answered Hosea, rising his voice to be heard over the noise of hooves and creaking wheels.

“And how did you call him when he was young?” Emily asked amused.

“He’s never been young” replied Hosea.

Emily laughed heartily. They could be criminals, but they were fun, and kind, and fair and everything else that did not match with the idea she had about criminals. None of them had tried to rape her, hurt her, threat her. There was that Micah of course, who she didn’t like, and Karen was a little… unpleasant, but the rest of them seemed normal. And then there was the fact that they were in 1899, but they didn’t look much different from the people of her time.

Looking at the two men on the leading place of the wagon, she exchanged a look with the man with the blue coat.

“And you?” she asked not without feeling a little embarrassed.

“What?”

“What’s your name?”

“Arthur.”

“Like King Arthur?” she said surprised.

“Like Arthur Morgan” he replied serious.

Emily laughed again, this time louder.

“Like King Arthur and Morgan le Fay? Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like a joker to you?”

Emily bursted out laughing. She couldn’t help it, she loved that irony, it was one of the things she found most entertaining and funny in the world. The pity was, she didn’t know many ironic people. When she finally could breathe again, she dried the tears from her eyes and took one of the oatcakes.

“Careful back there, we’re crossing a river” said Charles Smith from the front of the wagon.

“A river? With the wagons?” Emily asked.

Then, she looked around and noticed the path they were following was on the edge of a ravine and there was a water sound, not the calm bubbling of a flowing river, but something more powerful like…

“A waterfall!” she exclaimed turning around to look at it.

“What, you never saw a waterfall?” asked Uncle.

“Only on TV.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind, it’s a long story.”

Putting her knees on the bottom of the wagon, where she was seated a few moments before, she raised just what was necessary to look at the caravan ahead. They were crossing the river right before it bended over and crashed down the fall.

What an experience that was going to be! She had never crossed a river, and even less a waterfall, and even lesser with a wagon.

She sat again and waited patiently until she felt the wagon jolt and the tip of her shoes brushing against the water surface. She giggled watching the clear water ripple under her. In that moment she felt younger, she felt like a child, with her heart light and her mind empty from every kind of thought.

She turned her head towards the waterfall and the view that opened to her eyes took her breath away. She couldn’t believe that was America, the place she was born and grown in. Where had those places been until then?

Right there, of course, but she never had had the chance to go and see them. She had never traveled, never set a foot out of Lemoyne. School trips? Yes, the one day trips, those that didn’t cost much, those her family could afford. The old Saint Denis museums, the Civil War Memorial, Rhodes, the old Braithwaite Manor… there wasn’t much in Lemoyne after all.

They forded the river, slowly and carefully, and reached the other side of it, when…

“Get us out the stream” she heard Hosea saying.

The wagon she was in slowed down until Charles Smith made it stop completely.

“You gotta keep us moving, but calm” added Hosea as he signaled Mr. Arthur to get out of the water.

Their wagon was moving with a strange wobble and as soon as they got out of the river it bended on one side with a loud terrible noise.

“Ahh shit!” sweared Mr. Morgan.

“What happened?” asked Emily.

“Ahh I broke the goddamn wheel!” complained Mr. Morgan.

Emily looked at him as he got down the wagon and asked herself why he was so grumpy.

“Is he always this angry?” she asked to Uncle.

“Oh, you have no idea” he replied with a chuckle.

“Alright, let’s get it fixed” said Hosea with much more optimism than Arthur.

“What’s going on?” asked another voice and turning around she noticed one of the men that was following the caravan at horseback had come back to check what had happened. It was the man with the ridiculous mustache and bowler hat.

“They broke the wheel” she answered.

“You need help?” he asked.

“I reckon we can handle it” she heard Hosea saying.

Without thinking, she jumped down the wagon. Why had she done it? She was curious, about how they would have fixed the wheel and about that angry criminal with the fairytale name. Charles Smith had left the wagon too and walked past her to go help them.

“See you later” said Uncle and when she turned to look at him, the wagon had just started to move away.

She waved at him and then exchanged a look with the man on the horse who nodded to her and hit the spurs to follow the wagon which in so little time was already so far away from her.

“Alright Charles, you and me hold the thing up while you try and put the wheel back on, Arthur” said Hosea.

“Can I help?” Emily asked as she reached the back of the broken wagon.

“No” answered Arthur making the wheel roll on the ground.

“You sure you’re still strong enough to hold up a wagon, Hosea?” he asked then, lifting the wheel from the ground and placing it where she belonged.

So, that’s how they fixed wheels in 1899, placing them back. Much easier than change a car tire.

“Shut up” said Hosea.

“I’m just saying.”

“Well, say less.”

That little teasing between them made Emily chuckle.

When the wheel broke, some crates fell on the ground with an empty barrel and a carpet too, which had rolled a little bit away, so she walked in its direction to pick it up.

“See, you ain’t so useless after all” Morgan joked.

Hosea laughed before answering “not quite”.

She turned around and handed the carpet roll to Charles Smith who loaded it on the wagon. Then, she bended and took one of the crates, but when she tried to pass it to Hosea, she saw the man was looking up, his attention caught by something else.

She looked up too, bringing a hand to her forehead to cover her eyes from the direct light of the sun, and spotted three figures at horseback looking down at them, and they looked like…

“Natives?” she asked.

“What do you think?” asked Morgan.

“If they wanted trouble we wouldn’t have seen ‘em” replied Charles Smith.

“Poor bastards… we really screwed them over down here. Pardon my French, Miss” said Hosea.

Emily looked at him and smiled.

“Yeah, you should hear my French” she joked and looked again at the three Natives.

“What happened?” asked Arthur.

Emily turned to look at him in disbelief.

“What, you lived it and you have no idea of what happened?” she asked.

“You do?” he asked back.

“We better go, let’s not push our luck, we’ll talk later” said Hosea walking to the front of the wagon.

Mr. Morgan did the same, while Charles Smith climbed on the back and then turned around to reach out a hand that Emily took to lift herself on it. She and Mr. Charles sat one opposite to the other and she had been lucky enough to sit on a rolled carpet.

“Not too far now. Stay on this trail. We’ll follow the river then cut left inland” said Hosea. “So, you know what happened” he stated then turning around to look at her.

“Of course I do. Everybody does. It’s one of the bloodiest chapters in history.”

From the looks they gave her, she could tell they were expecting her to say something more.

“Anyway, they took their lands, stole everything they had, and moved them away, not to mention the massacres of the wars.”

“Thank goodness those have ended” replied Hosea.

“Nothing has ended. The abuses against the Natives will be carried on until the first half of the 21st century.”

“And how can you make such a statement?” asked Hosea narrowing his eyes to look at her carefully.

“I think I’ve made that part clear.”

Mr. Morgan scoffed.

“What, that you come from the future?” he asked skeptically.

Emily sighed as an answer. She would have never convinced them of that.

“You are a Native, right?” she asked to Charles Smith.

“By mother. My father was a colored man.”

“Wow that’s unusual. You must be proud of it” she replied with a surprised smile.

“Not really.”

“Why not? Such a rare happening, different cultures, different stories… it’s beautiful.” “Not everybody thinks the same.”

“W-what…”

She had to remember to herself where she was, when she was, to understand what he meant.

“What about your parents? Where are they?” she asked.

“I don’t know. The army came and took my mother when I was little. I left my father’s house when I was thirteen.”

“Why?”

“He was a sad man, especially after what happened to my mother, and the alcohol had a mean hold on him.”

Disappeared mother, drunk father, that man had a terrible story, and she could feel his sadness through that deep voice he had. Without thinking, she did what she thought to be the right thing and leaned forward to hug him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry” she murmured.

“W-what are you doing?” he asked.

Emily let him go and frowned at him looking at his bewildered face.

“Erm… showing my sympathy?” she answered.

“Why?” he replied defensive.

Emily kept looking at him and then moved her eyes on Hosea, who had a surprised expression just like Charles Smith. And she couldn’t say the same of Mr. Morgan, because he was driving, but she reckoned he was asking himself what the hell was she doing too.

“Because that’s what people do? Your story is terrible, you must have suffered a lot and I want you to know that I’m here if you want to talk.”

He kept looking at her like she was speaking Chinese. So it was true what they said, in the past people were truly cold and unsympathetic. Probably no-one had ever told him something like that.

“So now you’ll go around and hold people to show them your sympathy?” asked Mr. Morgan sarcastic.

Emily laughed at his provocation.

“No, not everybody. Only those who deserve it. What about you Arthur Morgan? What’s your story?”

“We found young Arthur here when he was like what… fifteen?” Hosea asked him.

“Yeah, more or less” Arthur replied.

“A wilder delinquent you never did see. But he learned fast” added Hosea.

“So you didn’t have any family?” Emily asked.

“Orphan, they both died when I was very young.”

“Oh my…” she whispered.

Was there anyone who had had a normal life? A normal childhood? A happy childhood? She asked herself as a great pity raised in her for those people. She wasn’t surprised they all became criminals, in someway they didn’t have a choice. And what about the girls? What kind of life did they have? Mary-Beth, Tilly, Abigail? What was their story? If the men had been so unfortunate, she could only imagine what it had to be for the women, because we all know for women is always worse.

“So, what now? You’re gonna hold me too?” asked Mr. Morgan with that sarcastic tone.

“No” she said and immediately looked away when he turned his head to glance at her. “Not anymore” she added.

...

Arthur laughed focusing again on the road. She was something, with that childish enthusiasm for waterfalls and that sympathy for people with sad stories and that claim of her provenience from the future. She was the strangest creature he had ever met and the same was thinking Charles, who couldn’t move his eyes from her since she had touched him. No-one had ever showed that interest for his origin, that compassion for his past, that kindness for him, and especially a white girl. He wasn’t used to that.

“What about your story, Miss Emily?” asked Hosea who wasn’t less stroke by her strange behavior.

“There’s nothing interesting to say about me, I’m afraid. I’m born in Saint Denis and there I lived my whole life with my mom and dad. I’d never thought to say that but…compared to you I feel extremely lucky. I have a family and friends and a job… well, I had a family, friends and a job.”

Charles noticed her own words had caused something inside her and her eyes suddenly lost the light. She fixed them on the distance, watching everything and nothing at the same time. Why did he have the impression that girl was telling the truth? All that story seemed absurd, but the change of her expression was genuine.

“Listen, I don’t know what to think of it” said Hosea as he understood that too.

“I know, you can’t believe me” she said brushing her tears away.

“And I don’t expect you to. I just don’t know what to do. Even if I went to Saint Denis, there would be nothing for me there. I have no place, I have no-one, I have nothing”

“Yes, you do. You have us” replied Hosea.

She looked at him with those big dark eyes that shined in the sun like they produced their own light.

“We’ll take care of you, like we’ve been taking care of each other in the last twenty years.”

“But… but you are…”

“Outlaws? Yes. Bad people? Also probably yes. But we are also a family.”

The girl smiled and dried the last tears from her eyes, which all of a sudden had recovered that light that made her look younger and innocent and pure, a purity of spirit Hosea hadn’t seen in many people, and it needed protection from that cruel world they lived in.

...

Her own words had crushed inside her like an airplane, but the more Hosea talked to her the better she felt. That man had a way of talking that could calm a ferocious bear, and she just couldn’t believe he was a criminal. He was so sweet, kind, and he was caring about her, when no-one did. Maybe she didn’t have to leave them, maybe she could stay with them just what was necessary to understand what she wanted to do with her forced new life.

“You know you’re gonna have to teach me how to do everything, right? I come from a time when we have a lot of things which you have not” she said.

“Like what?” asked Charles Smith.

She looked around her trying to think about something.

“Like, erm, I don’t know, like cars. Wagons without horses” she said.

“We have them. People already posses them in the East” replied Hosea.

“Really? What about, erm, phones?”

“You mean telephones? You can find it at the Sheriff’s office, they let you use it if you ask.”

Emily widened her eyes in surprise, wishing she had a better knowledge of inventions of the 1800’s.

“And showers?” she asked.

It came to her mind and for a moment she wished they had showers too, so she could have one as soon as they got to Valentine.

“Showers?” asked Hosea.

“Yes, when the water comes from above, from the shower head” she explained.

“Like the rain?” asked Charles.

“No, I-I… l-like…”

She had no idea how to make them understand.

“How do you wash?” she asked. Maybe starting from their point of view, it would have been easier.

“In the bathtub?” said Mr. Morgan.

“Okay, a bathtub, great, now think about water, okay? Coming from a pipe which falls from above, and you wash under it, and then the water flaws inside the bathtub and in the pipes again.”

She felt like an idiot, with her arm stretched up in the air making the water-that-comes-from-the-shower sign.

“Why should water come from above if you can fill the bathtub?” asked Arthur.

“Because this way is cleaner. When you have a bath you basically swim in your own filth, is unhygienic” Emily explained.

The three of them chuckled and snorted. Emily did the same, shaking her head and thinking it was for the best if they didn’t talk about modern inventions anymore.

“You know, I’m almost tempted to believe you really come from the future, I don’t think you can make up something like showers” said Mr. Arthur.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll patent it, so I’ll become rich” she joked.

A movement from her left made her jerk around, and what she saw made her heart jump and a rush of excitement ran in her veins.

“A deer!” she yelled.

“Look, look, a deer!” she said pointing at the animal jumping up and down until it reached the river.

Hearing that shrieking, the deer stopped to look at her with its ears stretched up.

“And if you don’t stop yelling that’s the first and last you’ll ever see” Morgan said annoyed.

Emily pouted at his reproach.

“Sorry, I’ve never seen one” she murmured looking down.

“Never saw a waterfall, never saw a deer. You are a real city girl” said Arthur with some sort of mocking in his voice.

“Yes, I am, And I’m proud of it.”

Mr. Morgan scoffed.

“What? I am. Cities are great, always alive, always full of people, opportunities…”

“Overwhelming chaos” said Hosea.

“Arrogant sons of bitches” added Arthur.

“Filthy air” ended Charles Smith.

“Yeah, well… it has its flaws” she admitted in the end.

A glimpse of the sun light reflected on the water of the flat river and caught her attention on the spectacular landscape. She inhaled deeply and the smell of grass and trees and flowers entered in her nostrils, having a sort of lulling effect on her mind.

“Yeah, cities are great. But I think I prefer the country.”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female oc #hosea matthews #Charles Smith #javier escuella

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thepeanutbutterwizard · 4 years

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Ninjago/Avatar au Pt6

The second half of Book 2 (hopefully)

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

So Garm finally reads the letter from Wu. It starts off as a normal pseudo-journal entry, but after it mentions finding the Garms old armor, but no body, it turns into more of a normal letter. Wu says that he’s missed his brother since he was banished, and that he hopes that they’ll be able to see eachother again soon if Garm is alive, and ends with Wu saying that he normally burns the letters he writes to Garm, so that no-one else finds them, but that he feels hopeful that this one could actually get to him. It’s touching stuff.

Lloyd picks up earthbending almost immediately, unlike Aang. The element Lloyd is going to struggle to learn is fire (if you don’t count his airbending being self-taught. He picked up airbending really, really fast, but bc he’s been making stuff up and trying to do what Maya did with her waterbending [Maya’s had decades to hone her style tho, not just three-ish years, but he’s like someone learning ballet only from YouTube, for only a couple of months] since there are no more airbenders [or so they think, bc none of them saw Morro airbend at the North Pole]), and I’ll get into why that is when it comes up. They haven’t had Garm start to teach Lloyd any firebending bc they’re trying to go in the order as much as they can, but Garm has finally convinced Kai to learn more than just the basics, and he picks it up really quickly.

Meanwhile, Morro is taking care of an injured Wu (and accidentally making him suffer through poorly-made tea). Now, Morro is onboard with Wu wanting to leave the Fire Nation behind; unlike Zuko, Morro isn’t trying to win back the favor of some distant parent, the only family he’s ever known is Wu, and he’s not about to abandon Wu for a bunch of people who would probably kill him as soon as they could no matter what he did for them, and Harumi made it clear that no-one in the Fire Nation is going to be extending them any mercy.

Once Wu wakes up, Morro does yell at him for doing something as stupid as taking a hit from a well-trained firebender to protect a stranger (Wu hadn’t gotten around to telling Morro ‘hey, you know that guy with the big burn scar who’s traveling with the Avatar? That’s my dead-but-not-really-dead older brother. Pls stop trying to stab him’, and Morro wasn’t there when Garm revealed his identity in the North Pole), until Wu tells him that Garm is his brother. This leads to Morro yelling out ‘You mean to tell me that the Avatar is my cousin?!?!’ And that how Wu learns that Lloyd is Garms son (’wait, what?’ ‘Have you really gone this long without noticing that the Avatar calls your brother his dad?’ ‘I’ve had a lot on my mind, give me a break!’), and now he thinks that Garm and Maya are married with three kids, one of whom is the Avatar.

They make their way to Ba Sing Se, with the help of the White Lotus. Wu isn’t the leader of them (he isn’t super old in this au, imagine what he looked like in S9, with the mustache), but he is a fairly respected member. I still haven’t come up with a Jet character who would work, and I am open to suggestions. If I do find a good character, they will definitely throw hands with Morro (mb Shade? Just cut out the romance subplot in S1 and pick a couple of EM’s to be the other freedom fighters?). And yes, Wu does get his tea shop in the upper ring (Steep Wisdom), and Morro tries to be happy and supportive, but even though he is fine leaving the Fire Nation with Wu, it does still feel like he wasted years of his life, both in chasing the Avatar and just trying to prove himself to everyone back in the Palace, so he’s pretty grumpy.

Now back to Team Avatar: at Maya and Garms insistence the kids have been picking out their little mini-vacations. They know that they only have a limited amount of time before the comet arrives, but Garm and Maya want these kids to be able to be, y’know, kids, at least a little bit, in spite of the fact that they’re growing up in a war-torn world. Kai want’s to check out that glacier-spring place by the desert, it’s kinda underwhelming, but they get fruity drinks out of it. This whole time Kai and Cole have been getting closer to each other. Kai feels a little guilty, like he’s betraying Zane’s memory, but talking to Maya and Garm about it does help him start to feel better, and it helps his over-protectiveness start to abate a little.

Jay wants to pick a really cool mini-vacation to impress Nya, and he asks the people who are in the glacier place if there’s any place around those parts, and ends up learning that about a year ago some lady showed up saying something about a huge spirit library in the desert that she was looking for. They never saw her again after that, and figure that she must have died out in the desert. When pressed (and payed) one of the artistically inclined staff members roughly recreated the sketch of the library, and vaguely remembered the area on the map she said she was going to search, and with that Jay has his mini-vacation picked out.

They set off and find the library. Cole chooses to stay outside with Ultra (who can’t fit inside) bc he thinks they’ll be safer if the only earthbender stays outside incase something goes wrong, and if they need to get out of there fast he’d only slow them down with his legs. Everybody else heads into the library and meet Wan Chi Tong (did I spell that right? I’m too lazy to check), who agrees to let them use the library if they 1) don’t intend to use the contents of the library against anyone else and 2) contribute something to his library.

Lloyd and Nya both use their wanted posters (they both thought they were awesome [Lloyd bc he’s 13 and Nya bc you can’t convince me that Nya wouldn’t be thrilled to have a wanted poster bc she’s been fucking with a tyrannical regime] and incredibly accurate considering the art had to have been done by someone using other people’s descriptions, and they totally intend on framing and hanging at least a few of their posters up in their rooms when all this is over), Kai has a copy of a poem that Zane wrote for him, Garm has his brothers letter (he doesn’t want to give it up, but he has nothing else), Jay has a blueprint from one of his inventions, and Maya has a copy of a story in a series that Koko had brought back to the South Pole over the years. Wan Chi Tong comments that about a year ago a researcher had arrived and had offered him another part of the the same series. He mentions that they should be careful, as she never left, and has been primarily researching the Avatar.

Everyone has an idea of who this mysterious researcher could be (except Jay), but they decide to be cautious all the same, just incase she isn’t who they think she is. They all start discreetly searching for anything that could be used to help them fight the Fire Nation, and they end up finding and empty placard saying something about ‘the Darkest Day in Fire Nation History’, but when they go to check part of the section on Fire Nation (that library was enormous, y’all cannot tell me that Zhao was able to destroy absolutely everything that the library had on the Fire Nation. It could only have been the last few decades/mb centuries of Fire Nation history), as well as a campsite that was full of scrolls having to do with the Avatar and different bending techniques (and a few misc scrolls about random things like cooking, engineering, etc). As they’re poking around the campsite, who else comes around the corner but Koko!

She has her nose buried in a scroll as she’s walking, so she doesn’t notice them all until Lloyd happily calls out ‘Mom!’, and goes in for a hug. Koko drops the scroll and has a happy reunion with her son and husband, as well as with Maya, Kai, and Nya, and she and Jay are introduced to each other. Koko explains that she’s been able to stay in the library so long was bc she managed to get the fox assistants to like her enough to start bringing her food and water. She also explains that she’s been doing nonstop research into the Avatar State, the Air Nomads and airbending, and the Fire Nation (though she’s really quiet about that part so they don’t catch Wan Chi Tongs attention and ire) and shows them that planetarium thing and that she discovered the eclipse. (How did she make it out to the library without a flying companion or something? SHe’s just that much of a badass.)

Koko had been saving up supplies and charting a course out of the desert, and planning to leave the library as soon as she could, but now that they’ve showed up with Ultra she can just grab her things and go. Someone, probably Jay, gets a little too vocal about how they have a chance to beat the Fire Nation, and cue Wan Chi Tong sinking the library and trying to add them to his ‘collection of specimen’. Garm and Koko are a dynamic duo, with Garm distraction the angry spirit while Koko gathers all of her scrolls and supplies together while Maya gets the kids to the exit.

Meanwhile, Cole is holding up the library, and trying to help Ultra fend off the sandbenders that showed up to capture and sell the dragon. Cole is able to put up a bit more of a fight than Toph was (meaning that he was able to get one or two good hits in) bc being in the desert doesn’t impair his vision (the sand does tank his mobility just as much as it would anyone with prosthetic legs tho), but he isn’t able to stop them or even hold them off long enough for everyone else to get out. Cole, despite being initially afraid of the large dragon, had quickly grown to be one of Ultras favorite people in their group (like, third favorite. Kai will never admit that he’s jealous), and is pretty upset that he wasn’t able to save him. More on Ultra later.

So Lloyd is really upset about losing his companion, just as much as Aang was. He doesn’t act out (for lack of a better word) as intensely as Aang, since Ultra wasn’t the last thing he had left of his people like Appa was for Aang, but Lloyd is still rightfully pissed off. He takes off shakily on his glider, leaving everyone behind before trying to search for Ultra and the sandbenders, ignoring his families protests. Koko starts working on getting them out of the desert using the route she had plotted out (using the sun and shadows to orient them and get started in the right direction), and starts planing out how long her food and water (she had the good sense to bring those from the library) will last between all of them. The answer is: not long enough.

Kai (and mb Jay too) is the one who has the bright idea to drink the cactus juice, bc while Kai, like Sokka, (and Jay tbh) is smart enough to know that drinking a strange liquid out of an unfamiliar plant is a bad idea,but the fact that it is a stupid idea doesn’t stop him. Wait, y’know what? Jay definitely tries the cactus juice, but instead of acting as out-of-it and inebriated as Kai does, he acts like he does in S9, weirdly chill and disconnected from reality. He’s still tripping balls, but he’s reacting to it differently from Kai. Cole just ends up carrying Kai piggy-back, even though the sand makes it harder for him to move (he’s crushing, and he’s the only one [adults included] whose physically strong enough to carry him for long periods of time) (also Kai awkwardly and drunkenly flirts with him. Everyone pretends not to notice for Coles sake) and everyone else takes turns holding onto Jays wrist and leading him through the desert or else he would have wandered off and died.

Lloyd gets back to them, landing hard in the sand, holding back tears bc even though he’s upset and could use a good cry he knows that they need to conserve as much water as they can. He’s got his family there to comfort him (even if Kai and Jay are kinda incapacitated atm), which does help him a bit, but he’s still rightfully upset. They find the abandoned sandbender skipper thing, find the vulturewasp hive, and come across the sandbenders. Cole is able to pinpoint the sandbender (no idea who this guy would be, Ninjago character wise) who lead the others to take Ultra via his voice bc Cole a) was trained in a myriad of performing arts thanks to his father, primarily singing b) has perfect pitch and c) never forgets a voice bc of that.

Lloyd goes full Avatar State, but is comforted and calmed down by his parents while everyone else books it. The sandbenders tell them that they sold Ultra to some guys who were going to take him to Ba Sing Se, and then they take them out of the desert (with the sandbenders getting the Death Glare from all of Team Avatar the whole way. Koko totally punches the sandbender who lead the others to steal Ultra once they’re out of the desert.)

They make their way to Ba Sing Se on foot, with Lloyd trying to get a handle on his emotions (and worrying everyone in the process), and they run into a family with an expecting mother/wife (I am also taking suggestions for who these characters could be. I’m pretty tired while typing this so I can’t think of anyone) and try and get on a ferry to Ba Sing Se. Cole, whose father is well known and wealthy, uses that fact, his double amputee status (he ‘accidentally’ slips out of one of his prosthetics. Kai catches him before he hits the ground), and his acting skills to get them tickets without passports.

And we get best girl Pixal back! She helps Team Avatar help the pregnant family go through the Serpents Pass, and it goes pretty similar to cannon, except instead of a situation where Sokka is overprotective of Suki, Jay picks up on how much Pixal likes Nya, and sees that Nya, his crush, reciprocates those feelings, and gets a bit passive-aggressive w/everyone, but Pixal especially. It doesn’t last long, bc Jay is a hormonal teenager who realizes he’s being a dick fairly quickly, but it does help fizzle his crush on Nya a bit (sorry again to any hardcore Jaya shippers who were hoping for that in this au, but it’s really not my cup of tea).

They also help deliver the couples baby, but Maya and Koko are the ones helping take care of that. Team Avatar get to the outer wall, just to see a huge Fire Nation drill heading closer and closer to the wall, ready to start tearing through it...

#ninjago #ninjago au #ninjago avatar au

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blackaquokat · 4 years

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The Song You Might Have Been (Chapter 2)

Link to Chapter 1

A/N: Fun fact, Legal Eagle used to be slang for “lawyer,” hence the DA’s nickname.

You will also notice, this chapter, that I am taking blatant inspiration for a subplot from Shawshank Redemption. Because it is absolutely something my DA would do. And also, there is a scene here that I once wrote in response to a prompt.

Anyway, thanks for the feedback so far, everyone! I appreciate it so much!

Enjoy!

Apparently Yancy has set up a guard rotation for you at mealtimes in collaboration with his nightly watch.

Today, instead of Jimmy the Pickle, a slim bearded man who introduces himself as Sparkles McGee (you’re curious about the story behind that nickname) joins you at your table. He’s a little more chatty than Jimmy was, constantly going on about the local prison gossip. Who is sleeping with who, which jobs are preferable, upcoming birthdays of inmates and guards. He doesn’t seem to expect any kind of response from you, which works out just fine, because you have nothing to contribute. This might be handy information to have in the future anyway.

When it’s yard time again, however, Sparkles splits off to his group of inmates at the corner. Just as you’re about to go spend another hour lost in thought or maybe doing some exercises, Sparkles comes back and drags you to his posse.

He introduces them one by one: a young woman who looks simultaneously bored and ready to kill, “Tiny”; a younger man with a hisp of a goatee and mustache, “Bam-Bam”; a pale, lanky man with gears tattooed to his temple, “Heap-Ass”; and a larger bald man, “Shithole Hank.” The last one is apparently the man to go to for hooch wine, and every time you’re offered a sip, you make a hard pass. Your excuse is a preference for whiskey or lime and gin. In reality, you just haven’t gotten desperate enough for alcohol to drink it out of a toilet.

Once the introductions are made, you once again just sit back and listen as the crew converses amongst one another. With the amount of gossip you catch during that time, you manage to construct imaginary cases in your head where this evidence is used in support of various litigation lawsuits.

It’s a real eye-opener for you, how little of a life you had outside of work that this is the most you can come up with to occupy yourself outside of reading a book.

Speaking of…

“Is there a library here?” you ask during a short lull in the conversation.

The group blinks at you in sync.

“Um.” Bam-Bam shakes his head. “There’s a book cart with a small selection, and a room about the size of a closet, but that’s about it.”

Your brow furrows. “Is this another case of Warden Murder-Slaughter’s ‘rehabilitation over punishment’ slogan falling flat on its face?”

Tiny snorts. Sparkles shrugs. An idea forms in your mind.

“Um…” Shithole Hank leans towards Sparkles. “Should we be worried about that look in their eye?”

“Only if it gets us in trouble.”

You decide to ignore that exchange. “Would you guys like to have a proper library?”

This draws some intrigue from your companions. Tiny in particular looks interested in this proposal.

“How the hell would you manage that?” Sparkles demands.

You cross your arms and try for a confident smile. “You don’t go through years of law school without learning how to figure out contracts and loopholes. If I can talk with the warden, I’d like to at least see what I can do.”

You cut off when you see the group staring behind you with wide eyes. You turn heel to see one of the guards looking you up and down. Rex, your mind supplies. This is Rex.

“If you want the Warden,” Rex growls, “I can take you to him. But you gotta do something for me first.”

Shit.

----

“What do you mean youse done talked with the Warden?” Yancy demands when you stroll into the cell that evening.

“I wanted to ask him what steps I needed to take to get a bigger library implemented here,” you respond with absolutely no shame whatsoever.

The meeting went surprisingly well. You’ve got a rough idea of how to go about this, now that you know what the problems are. Even better, you actually did find a copy of Murder on the Orient Express on the cart, so a double-win for the day. You crawl on top of the bedsheets and crack the novel open.

Yancy leaps down from the bunk and glares down at you. “And youse didn’t think to inform me of this plan of youse’s?”

You lift your brow without looking away from the book. “I didn’t think you’d be opposed to the idea of making your home a little more homey by having a more updated collection of books.”

“Of course not--”

“Then what’s the problem?”

There’s a huff and a growl before Yancy climbs back into his bunk and falls into it more aggressively than necessary. You think that’s the end of it until his head pops down. “What makes you think youse can just waltz into here and demand youse’s luxuries?!”

Ah. Okay, you see where he’s coming from.

You shut your book and set it down. “Look, I know I’m a prosecution lawyer, but I’m not completely heartless. Yes, I would like a larger collection of books, but don’t the rest of you want more to read too? You look like you’ve been here long enough to read all of those three times. I mean, Rex brought me to the warden in the first place just because he wants a better poetry collection to pick from. He asked for specific authors and poets.”

Yancy does not deny this.

You continue, “Besides, just because you’re in prison doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to expand your horizons, literature-wise that is. I know books helped me growing up, imagine what they’ll mean to everyone in here.”

Yancy continues to stare at you, utterly baffled. “Youse quite the enigma, Eagle.”

“For...what? Caring?”

He shrugs. A weird sight to watch from someone who’s upside down. “Not for caring, per se. But more...the ‘doing’ part.” He disappears into his bunk again. “Here’s hopin’ it won’t be for nothin’.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think youse the first person to ask for more books, Eagle? There’s a reason that collection hasna been updated since the war. Nobody’s seen it through to the end. They gets discouraged.”

You purse your lips, fingers tapping against your book. “I would think you’d have realized from my reputation. I don’t quit.”

There’s a chuckle above you. A genuine one. “That’s what I’m countin’ on, Eagle.”

---

Yancy is right. There’s a reason the collection has barely grown since the prison opened up.

No one on the outside wants to fund the damn thing.

That doesn’t stop you. You start writing letter after letter after letter to the state legislature asking (demanding and borderline threatening, really) for the funds needed to make a bigger library. Thanks to your work in the government, and after a quick phone call to Damien to confirm (while he also updates you on the progress on your case), you know exactly who to contact. It gives you something to do. Something really meaningful. It helps to pass the time and helps to keep from feeling helpless about your own situation.

It also gets you a whole different kind of attention from the inmates.

After Week Two of your letter campaign, Tiny speaks up. You’ve started sitting with Yancy’s posse since they adopted you into their group outside of protection detail. “You really think you can get a library here?”

Seeing as Tiny has barely made a sound in your presence before, this takes you completely by surprise. As well as the rest of the table. You recover quickly. “That’s...what I’m hoping for.”

Tiny’s head ducks, her fingers tapping against one another. “Um...if you do…”

“Yeah?”

“Can we make requests?” she eventually blurts out. “For books we’d like? I mean, do you think we could get children’s books?”

You put down your fork and offer her your full attention. “Did you have a specific one in mind?”

“The Velveteen Rabbit.” Tiny tugs at her braid. “My grandmother used to read it to me.”

You’re overwhelmed with the sudden urge to protect Tiny with your life. Even if you’re pretty sure Tiny has killed at least three people since she was imprisoned and could absolutely kill you if she wanted to. “If that book isn’t included in any delivery we’re given, I will annoy the legislature until they do. Sound good?”

Tiny smiles at you. A small, genuine one. It renews your motivation and you end up writing two letters that evening, in preparation for the next time mail comes along. Next thing you know, other inmates (and even a few guards aside from Rex, much to your surprise) have requests for books they would like available.

Oddly enough, it’s the letter writing and the book requests that finally drive you to ask Yancy how you go about ordering contraband.

“What the hell do youse need contraband for?” He’s sitting cross-legged in the top bunk while you’re trying to draft your next letter on the slab sticking out from the opposite wall.

You hold up the golf pencil you’re using with frustration. “Because these are driving me up the wall. They are terrible. And the quality of the paper here is a nightmare too, it smudges way too easily.”

“So what? Youse want pen and paper?”

Your brow lifts. “That not a lethal enough order?”

Yancy’s smile is borderline feral in its delight. “Youse a lot more interesting than I thought you’d be, Eagle. The guy to go to is Heap-Ass. He’ll get you anything you want. For a price.”

You really don’t like that tone of his. “And? What’s the price?”

“Depends.”

“I don’t do sex favors. Or assassinations.”

“Nah, he’s not that twisted. It’ll either be a chore switch or cigarette packs, somethings in that nature, you know?”

You twirl your terrible pencil between your fingers, feeling a little more hopeful. “That I can definitely handle.”

---

You’ve always known, on an intellectual, common sense level, that prison brutality is absolutely a problem. It’s something you learned in law school from the professors who cared about teaching the kind of scenes law students would actually have to address in their lines of work.

It’s an entirely other experience to watch a rookie guard get too into his job and beat the shit out of a prisoner whose only crime was walking a little too close to the bastard.

Your gut instinct is to run forward and help, somehow. A stupid instinct that would have gotten you killed or at least tossed into the infirmary on a permanent basis had Yancy not grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Hold up there, Eagle.” He pulls you back, a glare fixed on the brutal scene before you. “No need for two of ours to ends up with broken wings, youse hear me?”

You swallow back your righteous anger and force yourself to calm down. It’s not right, it’s not right, and the justice lawyer inside of you is itching to make it right somehow–-

Yancy must see your conflict and anger. He puts a hand on your shoulder and mutters into your ear, “No worries. Me and the others ain’t gonna let this stand. We’ve got our own system in place here.”

That night, you pretend to be asleep when you hear that rookie guard scream for help. You don’t look to see what happens, who does it, or how, and the next day, when the warden summons you to ask if you know anything to explain why the guard’s body was found in the laundry room, you tell him as much.

When you see Yancy later, he seems almost impressed at your lackadaisical reaction to what took place. “Thought you were all about the law, Eagle?”

You lean on the wall next to him and look out across the yard, watching the other inmates mingle together. “In the absence of the law, I’ll take what justice I can get.”

You can almost feel Yancy’s approval. “I can appreciate that.”

Link to Chapter 3 here!

Thank you for reading! Please relbog/comment! If you want to be tagged/untagged for the rest of this series or this pairing, please leave a message in my inbox!

@starcrossedforever87 , @dontworryaboutanything , @beereblogsstuff , @falseroar , @intemperantiae , @memetoyoko , @soul-wolf , @marki-dumb , @withjust-a-bite , @raimeyl , @scribbeetle , @its-dari , @neverisadork , @silver-owl413 , @sassy-in-glasses , @chelseareferenced , @sketchy-scribs-n-doods , @axolittle-boi , @wildfandom , @shrinkthisviolet , @purple-anxiety-blog , @conceitedink , @skidspace

#kat writes #prison attorney #ahwm yancy #ahwm #y/n district attorney #a heist with markiplier #wkm #who killed markiplier

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saintheartwing · 3 years

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Undertales of Friendship: Derp-TEMMIE-Nation

Temmie was crying in the rainy streets of Ponyville. What had just happened was absolutely horrible. The laughter, the teasing, the harsh words, it was too much for one Temmie to bear. Worse, her super deluxe ultra rare super delicious Temmie Flakes were now mushy in the mud, the catlike monster crying and shivering.

"Hey... you okay?" A kind voice said behind her. Temmie turned, and saw a sight that made her go wide eyed with uber cute happiness. The grey pegasus before her was about average size, gently flapping her wings, with seven bubbles for her flank tatoo, as Temmie called it. But the cuteness came from those eyes, one looking up, the other down, making her look so huggabale combined with thta Frisky Fun smile.

She called it that because it reminded her of Uber cute and snuggly hoooooooooooooman Frisk, such a CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE!

But, she remembered what happened, and sobbed again. "Tem.... sad, so 1 lik Teme, cuz Teme tak werd."

The pony sat beside Temmie, offering her an umbrella, making the Temmie blink happily. "I know what you mean. Ponies pick on me all the time because of my derpiness. They even call me Derpy. My full name is actually Dizty Do Derpy Hooves."

Temmie smiled widely from ear to ear. Literally. "Derp e? Such a cuuuuute nam! I'm Temmie!" Temmie hopped closer. "Derp not allergic to Tem, r u?"

Derpy smiled, hugging Temmie. "Nah, Just clumsy. Ask Twilight. I once dropped a piano on her." She tilted her head a bit. "Followed by a hay cart. Followed by an anvil."

Tem went wide eyed, anime style. "OWWWWWWOWOWOW! Dat mus hut!"

"It did. But she forgave me. And now I even can fly pretty good thanks to Rainbow Dash teaching me to adapt how I fly to my vision." She pointed a hoof at her crossed eyes. "For a long time ponies thought I was retarded.... but these were just messing up my vision, making me clumsy. Some ponies still tease me about it, and I am not as bright as many others...but..."

Before she said another word, a rather annoying, nasaly voice was heard. "Oh isn't THIS rich! Looks like the Temfem found a fweeeeend." The two groaned as they saw a monster shaped like a ufo, with two eyes on the sides, a big ugly nose, and a small, mocking smile under an M shaped mustache.

Jerry.

And with him were several of the local bullies, a group of ponies who basically caused trouble for everyone. During the date bidding not long ago, they made a point of making obscene cat calls to Rainbow Dash, and shortly after the monsters came they were some of the first to rail against Muffet, saying she wanted to turn everyone into flies with her evil pastries, and eat them.

Admittedly that was partially true, but she only did that to parasprites because they were both delicious and cuddly.

"Wow, retards really DO attract."

"Man, you see her eyes?"

"I bet she can't even see us!"

"And I heard yesterday she tried to deliver the princesses's mail to Big Macintosh!"

"Big Mac? I heard she almost started a war by delivering a sex note to Queen Chrysalis!"

Temmie growled, and with one paw that got VERY long, successfully slapping every last one of them, only too late realizing her mistake.

"OOOOOOOOOO... I've been temmied! Now I am gonna have... Hoives!"

Temmie began to sob, bolting. Derpy snorted and growled at the laughing bullies. "You all oughta be ashamed of yourselves!"

Jerry snickered. "You oughta be ashamed of those eyes! I mean, are you looking up or down? Oh wait, it's BOTH!"

Derpy gritted her teeth. With a mighty whinney, she charged Jerry, knocking him down. The two were brawling as Twilight and several guards, including Papyrus, broke it up.

The look on the faces of the guards meant there would be a lot of trouble.

***

"And after what Jerry said, I didn't know what else to do hon! WHat kind of monster is that monster? He is such a.....a....."

"Monster?" Doctor Whooves said, working on his steam powered inventions while he and Derpy talked. The two had married some time before, despite obvious differences (Or perhaps because of them). Now they lived in a quaint cottage in Ponyville, where Derpy spent a lot of time baking muffins to go with the money she maid as a professional mailmare, while the Doctor worked as both a medical practitioner and a fringe scientist.

"Yeah, monster." Derpy whimpered some. "I hate Jerry."

The Doctor peeked out from under his latest work, the Steamy Dreamy 3000, meant to use a gentle steaming mist to help ponies sleep when it is too cold. "Dear, that is still no reason for assult and battery. And Jerry wound up with those bits with you paying out the nose because he had his gang as witnesses. He played you like he tried to play Temmie."

"Ohmygosh! Temmie! I forgot all about her... poor thing, she is so cute and kiind, and those creeps had no right to-"

"Dear." The Doc came over to her and nuzzled. "Think about this logically. Temmie is a very unlogical creature. Now if I were her, where would be the last place I would wanna go after being insulted?"

Derpy pondered, thinking mostly of muffins. Sweet, delicious muffins, with fresh raisins in them, and that home grown oatmeal from Sweet Apple Acres...

"Ummm.... the bakery?"

The Doc hmmmed. "Unlikely.... out of the way....very unusual..... yes, I do believe you are right love!"

Derpy blushed. "Well... I'l be honest, I was kinda asking if we could go there, all this made me kinda hungry." She made a little shy blush, the Doctor chuckling.

"Why not. I need a break and you need a pick me up. Then we can figure out what to do about Temmie."

Derpy hmmmed. "Maybe she is like me? Maybe she just needs to find what she is good at. Something that is just her?"

The two nodded, waking out of the home, humming a gentle tune (Ironically to the music of Temmie Village)

What talent does a Temmie have? What skill, does a temmie show? What job, can a Temmie do? I admit, I really just don't know. Can they sing? Dance? Love? Romance? Run? Play? Sleep all day? Do they cook? Cuddle? Solve puzzles? Do they laugh? Sing? Do anything? Sew? Sell? Ask? Tell? Kiss? Hug? Comfort? Bug? I'll tell you... It's all of the above! What power, does a Tem possess? What things, does a Temmie need? What hope, does a Temmie have? What is, their eternal creed. Can they sing? Dance? Love? Romance? Run? Play? Sleep all day? Do they cook? Cuddle? Solve puzzles? Do they laugh? Sing? Do anything? Sew? Sell? Ask? Tell? Kiss? Hug? Comfort? Bug? I'll tell you... It's all of the above! That's what a temmie does! Just like me and you! That's who and what a temmie is! And I assure you, it is all true! Tem...Tem Tem... Tem Tem...Tem Tem... "TEM!"Derpy said in shock as she walked in. As she had guessed, unintentionally, there was Temmie, trying to hide in Muffet's Spider Batter, several spiders tryng not to laugh at the cuteness. Muffet herself had her four arms crossed.

"Look, I have no orders for a Temmie Cake...yet." Muffet added under her breath. "And I highly doubt the Cakes, speaking of which, will approve of you hiding in my cake batter."

"Tem not lik even az foob. Tem worth 0."

Derpy approached. "That's not true! You're just different is all, and different means you have different ways, like me."

Muffet nodded. "Derpy is right. You remember what I was like when I first came here, how I was ridiculed because I used spiders in my pastries?"

Nearby, a pair of changeling girls were being tickled inside and out by said spiders. "Yeah, then you found out what we think of them, you doll!" One said, the other smiling and nodding.

"Or Huey! The monster kid with no arms? No one is making fun of him now!"

At the school, Diamond Tiara smiled as the high jumping Huey retrieved her crown from a tree after a crow took it, earning a kiss from the formerly snotty pony and cheers from the other kids.

"Or TWILIGHT?!" Muffet pointed out.

Temmie blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

Derpy nodded. "Yeah, before she became a princess a lot of people made fun of her bookworm nature. But now? Now she is the princess!"

Tem huddle din the batter. "But.... tem knot lik dat...."

Muffet petted the battered Temie with sprinkles. "Yes you are. You're friendly and kind, and everyone who needs a hug can count on you for one. You're the best friend anyone could ask for, and you make everyone laugh!"

Derpy nodded.

Temmie smiled a little. "But.... wha bot Jerr?"

Muffet growled. "JERRY. Now he is someone who IS worthless. No wonder all the good monsters ditch him. He not only has no friends, he does his best to alienate them."

Derpy was confused somewhat. "But why?"

Muffet sighed. "Bullies are often self hating. But if you ask me, Jerry is a rare breed, deary. He bullies just because that is who he is. He hates friendship and hates others, he'd rather be alone yet loves to annoy others, it is like my spider doughnuts are to those changelings in his mind."

Derpy growled. "Man, even Discord has friends, how can Jerry go out of his way to ruin friendship and be happy about it?"

Muffet leaned close to the two. "Because he is... well... JERRY."

***

As the duo of Derpy and Temmie left the bakery, they saw Jerry waiting there, bulies beside him. He snickered some as he watched the two walk out.

"Well well, the cross eyed mule and the low eyed pike return! I wonder if they have any.... derptemmination?! *Snicker*

Ok, that's it. Buck this, I'm done.

"Huh?"

Everyone... let's ditch this guy. He is so annoying and wrong and even I as the writer am sick of him.

Temmie smiled. "Dat goooooo idee! Tem flakes any 1?"

Derpy smiled. "Maybe we can try some Temmie Flake muffins?"

Temmie was so excited she literrally lept 100 feet in the air with her paws still on the ground... and stayed at that height. "OOOOOO! Nomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom! Lezzgo!" She said, wlaking with her new long l-

"HELLLLOOOOOOOO?! I wasn't done insulting them!"

*The entire story ditches Jerry. The world is better for it. After all, who likes a bully?*

...

...Back at Derpy's house, Derpy and Temmie worked on the TemMuffins, Temmie unintenionally believing that SHE was supposed to go in one and not the flakes, resulting in a couple dozen little fruity smelling Tem Muffins, and one giant one with Temmie in the middle, breathing out actual balls of happiness that smiled as they floated by.

"Tem lik muffen. Muffen so warm!"

Derpy smiled, playfully nomming a bite. "And tasty too!"

Everyone laughed, especialy Temmie, because she was with friends who loved her, and when you had that, then who cared what anyone else thought?"

"Cuz afta all.... Tem happy is best Tem!"

TEMMIEND!

...

...JERRY: Where did everyone go? Oh come on guys! Where is everyone! Hello? Hellllllllllllllooooooooooo? *Snort* Fine,. this story is dumb anyway*

Jerry walked away. Thank goodness.

Classic Jerry.

#Undertale #MLP #MLP:FiM #friendship is magic #My Little Pony #Crossovers #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years

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It’s Complicated Chapter 8: Reorientation

Source: @yunafire

Chapters 1-5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Read on AO3

It was late when Mike Dodds showed up at Forlini’s. By then, Fin and Carisi had already left and Amanda was getting ready to head home herself, but she stayed to have a last drink, not wanting to leave just as Dodds arrived. He worked too hard, and he had a thing about not getting too social with the detectives, trying to maintain an appropriate distance since he was their Sergeant. Amanda thought that was crap; Olivia socialized with them, after all, so she bought him a shot of tequila to go with his beer.

The conversation was typical Friday night, several-drinks-in fare, and it was exactly what Dodds needed to clear work from his head. Especially with these women, who flirted tipsily with him and were primed to laugh at his jokes. Amanda did excuse herself after she finished her last drink, though, leaving Frankie and Mike at the table.

“You want another one?”

“I don’t know, Mike, I’m kinda lit already.” Frankie made a face.

“C’mon. I just got here.”

“Oh, what the hell. I’ll just switch to beer. I’m buying.”

When she returned with their drinks, she looked just a bit too long out the window. Dodds was not only a trained detective, he was also naturally intuitive. The look on her face didn’t escape him.

“What was that?” He asked, clinking his beer glass with hers.

“What was what?”

“That look. You see someone out on the street?”

“Mike. Clock out already. You are done Sergeant-ing for the day.”

Dodds laughed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrogate you. But I actually have been meaning to check in with you. About Canady, and everything that happened. How you doin’ with all that?”

Frankie’s eyes took on a speculative look. “I think I’m OK. My life is back to normal, and I haven’t had a prison dream in a while. And I didn’t realize until he was dead how often I was worrying about Alan finding me. So, you know… I think I’m good.”

“Glad to hear it. Sorry I had to be the one to arrest you.”

“Stop apologizing for that. It was your job, and you couldn’t have been nicer about it. Anyway, I’m pretty sure there are women who dream about you handcuffing them, Sergeant.”

Dodds’ face twisted into a wry grin of sorts. “Well, I’m afraid they’re gonna have to go on dreaming.”

Frankie tried to keep her face impassive. “Oh? Rather handcuff men, would you?”

“Not into handcuffing at all, to tell you the truth, but yeah. If there’s handcuffing to be done, I’d prefer it be male.”

Frankie smiled and clinked her glass with his. “Gotcha.”

“You surprised?”

She shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it. OK, that’s a lie, I noticed you’re pretty, um…” she waved her hand up and down to indicate him. “What’s the professional way to say ‘sexy’? So I might be just a little disappointed. But I can’t say I blame you. I like dick, too.”

Dodds almost spit out his beer at that.

“Oh, shit. I must be drunker than I thought. Sorry about that, Mike. Sometimes my mouth tries to kill me.”

He swallowed and laughed. “No, don’t be sorry, that may be the best response I’ve ever gotten after coming out to a woman.”

“So, obvious next question. Are you dating anyone?”

“Not currently, no. Which explains why I’m sitting here with you at ten O’clock on a Friday night.”

“Wow. That hurt.”

“No – that came out wrong. I just meant-“

Frankie laughed and put a hand on Mike’s arm. “I’m just giving you shit. I’m the wrong flavor. I get it.”

“But you are Barba’s flavor, and I gotta ask about that. I thought the two of you had a thing going.”

“For a grand total of one minute.”

“Bullshit. I see the way you look at eachother. And don’t even try to tell me all that yelling isn’t foreplay.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Sergeant. I mean, yeah, he’s attractive enough, but we have a fundamental… difference of… opinion…”

Frankie’s voice trailed off and she gazed, eyes unfocused, at the tablecloth.

“About?”

Her mind had suddenly been pulled back to Rafe’s hand injury. She wasn’t going to share her suspicion with Dodds, but she was just drunk enough to take the opportunity to unburden herself a bit. “Well, it’s…” She looked up at him and leaned in. “Can I talk to you about something sort of personal? Confidentially?”

“The doctor is in. Did you want to lie down on the couch, or…?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Everybody’s a comedian. So the thing is, Barba thinks I did something to get Juwon Jefferson – you remember, the tweaker kid? Barba thinks I got him to say Alan was the Pattern 20 rapist and that he killed himself.”

“What, Barba thinks you killed Canady?”

“No, he says he believes me about that, but he thinks it’s awfully convenient that Jefferson suddenly started cooperating.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, ‘And”? Barba thinks I tampered with a witness.”

“He thinks Jefferson lied?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But he thinks whatever he said, I put him up to it.”

“Did you?”

“No!”

“Then who gives a fuck what Barba thinks?”

“I do. That’s the problem. I… Mike, I could really care for him. In fact, in vino veritas, I do really care for him. But I can’t have him thinking I did something like that.”

“Something like what? Frankie, seriously, let’s say you did – I don’t know – bribe Jefferson, or threaten him with something if he didn’t come clean. Hell, let’s even say you got him to lie. As long as you didn’t kill Canady – and you didn’t - so what?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Dead serious.”

“It would be OK with you if I bribed a witness to lie for me.”

“In this case? Yes.”

Frankie gaped at him, incredulous.

“Oh, grow the hell up, Doc. I might not even be all that upset if you were the one who offed the guy. You’re from Texas, right? What is it they say, ‘He needed killin’?”

“You are honestly telling me…”

“Look, I don’t know, all right? I’m feeling that tequila, maybe in the cold light of day I would have a problem with you actually killing the guy. It would depend on the circumstances. But as it stands, he did himself to frame you, and if Jefferson hadn’t backed you, it would’ve worked. That, I definitely would have a problem with.”

“Shit, Dodds. That’s basically what Barba said.”

“Then Barba’s right.”

“Listen, you gotta keep this between us, OK? Don’t say anything about… how I feel about Barba.”

“I won’t.”

“In fact, you gotta give me some collateral. Tell me something you don’t want anyone in the squad to know so I can blackmail you.”

“What was that phrase from the Cold War? ‘Mutually assured destruction?’”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t think I’ve had that much to drink.”

“Then let me tell you something about you that you don’t want anyone in the squad to know. I’ve been sitting here multitasking, assimilating the idea of you being gay. Suddenly your reluctance to socialize with us makes a little more sense.”

“Oh, shit.”

“It’s Carisi, isn’t it?”

“Fuck, Frankie, you could destroy me with that.”

“Of course I couldn’t. Number one, I’m assuming you’ve never said or done anything about it.”

“Of course not! He’s my subordinate and he’s straight as an arrow.”

“And number two, I’d never say a word. Unless…” She gave him a wildly overdone evil leer with a mustache twirl.

“You’re diabolical.”

“I’m not, actually, but please don’t say anything to Barba.”

“I won’t, but you should. He’s into you.”

“A lot you know. Right this minute, he’s ‘into’ the Chinese restaurant across the street with a blonde.”

“I knew you were looking at something out there!”

“Yeah, bully for me. Next, I’ll be driving by his house at night, just hoping to get a glimpse of him, like a bad country song.”

“You could do that. Or just fucking talk to the man. I’m telling you, Frankie, you are the one making problems for the two of you. You need to lighten up and see the world for what it is.”

“Shit, you’re practically quoting him.”

“Then maybe you should listen. Because I know he’s waiting for you to make a move.”

“He’s waiting with a blonde, Mike.”

“So? You’re here with me.”

“I think the blonde shares our preferences.”

“Again, so?”

“So I’m assuming he will be sharing leftovers with her in the morning.”

“Jeez, Frankie, how old are you? So he fucks her. So what?”

“So I’m the jealous type. That would be a problem for me.”

“Oh, come on. Say I take you back to my place and fuck you stupid. All weekend, even. Is that going to change the way you feel about Barba?”

“Depends. Are there handcuffs?”

Mike laughed loudly. “I think in your profession, they call that ‘deflecting.’ Which means I win. It’s the twenty-first century and we’re grown-ass adults, Frankie. Let the blonde handcuff Barba all she wants. That isn’t gonna change the way he feels about you, and you shouldn’t let it change the way you feel about him.”

Frankie leaned back and shook her head. “I’ll think about it,” she said, frowning.

“Do that.”

She brought her eyes back to Dodds and leaned in again. “And you think about Carisi being straight. You may find he’s straight as a rainbow.”

“Shut up.”

“Yep. I’ve seen some things. And I can even find out for you, if you want.”

“He’d still be my subordinate.”

“I don’t want to know the details, Dodds,” Frankie winked.

“I meant that I’m his Sergeant.”

“I know what you meant,” she laughed. “And I’m going to find out how he rolls. Carefully, discreetly, and without even a hint of your name. I’ll let you know.”

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

“Hey, Snot-rocket!”

“You’re the snot-rocket, Snot-rocket. How’s it going?”

“It’s good. Got a bit of a squall comin’ through right now, which is messin’ with my plans for today, but life on a ranch, right?”

“Right. So… how’s the hand?” Frankie waited to see what Rafe would do with that question.

As expected, his response was, “What hand?”

“I heard you had a couple of broken fingers, or sprained, or something. Twisted them working on a fence?”

“Oh, that. That was a while ago, and it was nothin’. They’re fine.”

“What happened, exactly?”

“Like you said, I twisted ‘em. Workin’ on a fence.”

“We have different definitions of the word, ‘exactly,’ Rafe.”

“What are you, interrogatin’ me? Am I under arrest?”

“Hmmmm. Defensive reaction.”

“Frankie, what are you gettin’ at? I hurt my fingers. BFD.”

“Well, it is a big fucking deal if you’re lying to me because you hurt them beating up Juwon Jefferson to get him to talk to the cops.”

There was a silence on the other end of the line.

“Amanda tell you that?”

“No, you just did. What the fuck, Rafe? That’s witness tampering. It’s illegal. Stone could use it to re-file the charges!”

“He ain’t gonna do nothin’ if you don’t tell him. Drop it, Frankie. I mean it. It’s over. You coulda been convicted of murder, and I wasn’t gonna let that sumbitch do you like that. That’s all I got to say about that.”

“Rafe…”

“That’s all I got to say. How’s Amanda doin’?”

Nothing Frankie could say would get any more information out of her stubborn brother.

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

Olivia was very surprised to see Frankie at her apartment door on a Saturday afternoon, but Porter wasn’t. They’d been texting, and he hadn’t been able to put Frankie off. The most she would agree to was to wait until Noah’s naptime before coming over. She was clearly upset.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“Thanks, Liv, I’d love some.”

Porter sat down on a chair across from the couch where Frankie sat. “All right, so what’s the emergency?”

“You avoided me after I got out of Riker’s. I thought it was weird that I couldn’t get you to agree to a time to get together and talk about what happened with Alan, after all we’d been through.”

“And the fact that I was busy means I was avoiding you?”

“You were waiting for the bruises to heal.”

Olivia handed Frankie a mug of coffee and sat next to her, an expectant look on her face as she looked at Porter.

“You knew.”

Olivia sighed. “I knew Dean was in a fight the night Jefferson was brought in, and that he asked me not to mention it to anyone at NYPD. But that’s all I knew.”

“Because you purposely didn’t ask any questions.”

“Best I could do. And, if you want my advice, I’d recommend you don’t ask any questions, either.”

“So it’s true. You-“

“Don’t say anything else, Frankie.” Porter advised, leaning forward toward her. “Just drop it, have some coffee. We can talk all you want about Canady. Let’s just not worry about Jefferson.”

Frankie drank deeply and thoughtfully. Barba’s coffee was infinitely better than Liv’s.

“Am I that much of a child?” She asked.

Liv took that one. “Frankie, you know me. You know how I do things. Would you call me a child?”

“Of course not.”

“Then neither are you. Now. Would you call me… oh, I don’t know. Crooked? A rogue cop?”

“Of course not. You’re one of the most righteous cops I know.”

“Then listen to me. I was one of the arresting officers in your case. It was bad. It was very bad. Based on everything I’ve seen, I was scared for you. So when I got the call about Jefferson, and he started to talk, I was relieved as hell. And when Dean showed up with bruises that night, I didn’t ask any questions. He’s an FBI agent. He gets beat up. I have no idea what happened to him, and neither do you.”

“What if Stone finds out?”

“Finds out what? Finds out Dean’s an FBI agent who sometimes gets in fights on the job? He already knows.”

“You know what I mean, Liv.”

“I know you’re drawing conclusions. I know you have no idea what did or didn’t happen while you were in Riker’s. And I know you should be grateful as all hell you’re not there now, and you should never think about it again. That’s what I know.”

Frankie sighed and took another long drink of dreadful coffee.

“You want to talk about something else?” Porter asked. “Because we have some news.”

Benson and Porter’s engagement was the only topic of conversation for the rest of Frankie’s visit.

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

“Hey, Sonny, I need to ask your opinion on something.”

“Shoot, Doc.”

Sonny was sitting at his desk, searching online for a site on the dark web that had just turned up in a case. Frankie sat on the edge of the desk nearby. No one else happened to be in the squad room at the moment.

“I have this cop friend. He’s gay and he’s thinking about coming out to his team. He wants to know what I think, and I haven’t been part of the NYPD for long enough to have a good sense of how that would go. You’ve been around NYPD for a while, worked in some different houses, what would you tell him?”

“Depends on his unit.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Like, if he works Gangs, he should move to the back of the closet and hide behind the winter coats. But some units are friendlier than that. Where’s he work?”

“Until he comes out, I’d prefer not to say. I trust you, I just don’t have his permission, you know?”

“Got it. Well, since you’re that discreet, let me tell you somethin’.” Sonny looked around to ensure their privacy. “SVU’s about the most LGBTQ-friendly unit there is in the NYPD, right? And even here, I publicly only date girls.”

“So you’re saying you’re bi, but you wouldn’t come out, even here.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’.”

“Well, thanks for the insight. And the confidence. It’s not misplaced.”

“I know. And I’m out to Amanda, too, just so you know.”

“OK.” Frankie said, then pretended to be struck by a thought. “So listen, that being the case… I heard something. I need to thread the needle a little bit here, but… Someone, a guy, told me that they’re interested in you, and he wanted to know if you were straight. But he’s not out here, either.”

“Someone in SVU? A guy? Is interested in me?”

“I didn’t say he was in SVU,” Frankie said, noticing that Carisi’s eyes instantly went to Dodds’ desk. “But he’s… around, and you know him. I told him I didn’t know where you stood, but I’d find out. I don’t know how to do this… I wouldn’t out you to him, even with your permission. It’s a rule I have. But could I tell him he could trust you not to shoot him if he made his interest known? Would that be OK?”

Sonny’s brow furrowed. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course. And if you never mention it again, neither will I.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Sonny worked for a while longer. “Hey, this guy… What’s he like?”

“Tens across the board.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

“OK. You can tell him I won’t shoot him. The rest is up to him.”

“Consider it done.”

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

Frankie needed advice. Well, that wasn’t exactly accurate. She’d received quite a bit of advice on how to view what Porter and Rafe had done, all of it decidedly uniform. But she was having a tough time accepting it. She needed to talk to someone about it, and she didn’t know who to turn to. She respected and trusted the opinions she’d heard; it wasn’t that. The problem was, she needed to talk to someone whom she knew had unimpeachable principles of right and wrong. Actually, she would have loved to hear Peter Stone’s thoughts, but she would always be scared shitless of him. Also, she preferred to stay out of prison. Nikki? No, she knew Nikki would say what everyone else said.

And then she thought of George Huang.

“Frankie! What a nice surprise! Or is it? You’re not calling to curse me for letting you get involved with SVU, are you?”

Frankie laughed. She loved George. Even the relaxing sound of his voice made her feel better. “I’m not, but you could’ve warned me about Barba.”

“Ooh. Sorry about that. I guess I should’ve seen a little potential conflict there. You remind me of each other. Then again, maybe he’s good for you. He’s the only person I can think of who could say ‘no’ to you and make it stick. I’m guessing you find that as attractive as you do annoying.”

“Get out of my head, Professor. I’m not your student anymore.”

“Listen, I was very sorry to hear about what you went through. With Canady.”

”Thanks, George. And thanks for your emails. I appreciate it.”

“How are you doing now?”

“Surprisingly well, actually. It will probably turn out to be good for me, professionally, to have had that experience. You know, maybe in ten, twenty years.”

Huang laughed softly. “I’m glad to hear you’re OK. I was worried.”

“Well, when I say I’m OK, that’s a bit relative. There is something I need to work through.”

“That’s what you said in your text. Your fifty minutes starts now. I’m expensive, make them count.”

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

Carmen had been here before. Janice Edwards was not the first woman who “just happened to stop by hoping to catch Mr. Barba” when he was in court, and ended up pumping Carmen for information about him. She was, however, the first one who came bearing expensive coffee not for Mr. Barba, but for Carmen. Carmen hoped Ms. Edwards was a bit less obvious with judges. Ms. Edwards was perfectly aware that Mr. Barba had a hearing this afternoon; Carmen had heard him tell her about it not two hours before. Consummate professional that she was, Carmen sipped her coffee and smiled, despite the fact that she really wished Ms. Edwards was sitting in the chair next to her desk, rather than on her desk, leaning in as though they were the closest of friends.

“I happened to see he had lunch with Bess Quinn yesterday. Do they have a case together?”

“Not currently, no.”

“Oh? What was the lunch about, then?”

This was not Carmen’s debut performance on this particular stage. “I’m not sure. This suit is just beautiful.”

“Really? When did she call to schedule it?”

“I’m not sure who scheduled it. He just asked me to put it on his calendar. Is this Alexander McQueen?”

Carmen thought she’d successfully answered all Ms. Edwards questions without actually saying anything when she started to talk about her suit. Five minutes later, however, she found herself fielding more questions, this time about what Mr. Barba had done this past weekend. That was interesting, given that Carmen had made reservations for him and Ms. Edwards at Xiāngliào on Friday night. But since Carmen knew nothing about what Mr. Barba had done over the weekend, she simply said so.

“You know, between us girls, I think he’s seeing someone. Is he seeing someone?”

“Not that I’m aware, Ms. Edwards.”

“Oh, you know you can call me Janice. And you can tell me. He’s not back with Bess Quinn, is he?”

“I couldn’t say.” She also wouldn’t say that Mr. Barba – well, Carmen on Mr. Barba’s behalf - had sent Ms. Quinn flowers after their lunch, or that he had tickets to see an opera in French with Adrien St. George the next night. Carmen could understand Ms. Edwards’ curiosity. Even for Mr. Barba, that was a lot of… socializing.

Carmen had to keep doing her job, even with Joyce Edwards in residence on her desk. Excusing herself, she answered Mr. Barba’s private line and was annoyed – but undetectably so – to see Ms. Edwards leaning in to try to hear.

“I’ll give him the message,” Carmen said, purposely not using the caller’s name or writing anything down for Ms. Edwards to read. She wouldn’t forget to tell Mr. Barba that Dr. Rojas wanted to speak to him. In fact, she’d been watching the two of them, and Carmen had some theories of her own about Mr. Barba’s social schedule.

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

Frankie and Mike Dodds found themselves on the courthouse elevator together the following day.

“Hey, Mike, that thing we talked about last Friday?”

“What thing?”

“I said I was going to get some information for you about that detective we talked about.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah. I made a discreet inquiry.”

“And?”

“I am authorized to tell you that they will not shoot you if you make yourself known to them.”

“I have no idea what the hell that means.”

“It means you should pursue that line of investigation.”

“No shit.”

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #rafael barba #raul esparza #mike dodds #sonny carisi #amanda rollins #law & order SVU Agent Dean Porter #olivia benson #george huang

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stony-ao3-feed · 4 years

Text

When I Was New

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2trpPSa

by isozyme

On screen, Kang’s standing on top of a bus in the center of a wrecked intersection. He’s holding a dark-haired, gangly teenager, clearly using the kid as a bargaining chip. At this point, Kang is clearly losing the fight and is looking for an escape route.

Steve winces as Kang hurls his human shield in the direction of the camera and bolts. The poor teen bounces on the pavement, bangs his head, then skids to a rest close enough to make out his face in the video.

Steve almost drops the tablet. The kid is Tony. He’s at least fifteen years younger, mustache barely grown in, and bleeding from his forehead, but -- still Tony.

Words: 5010, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel 616, Avengers (Comics)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Kang the Conqueror

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Additional Tags: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Time Travel, multiple Tonys, Angst With A Bittersweet Ending, Commander Rogers is an Angry Douchebag, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Civil War fallout, Remix

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2trpPSa

#stony #fanfiction #ao3feed #superhusbands #stevetony

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lonely-canadian-shrimp-universe · 5 years

Text

Good Omens:A First Foray

The First Impressions of a Viewer with No Context

I knew a good chunk of the plot because at first I honestly wasn't going to watch it, so I didn't really shield myself from any spoilers on tumblr.

That being said, I was hooked right from episode 1. I went into it thinking I was gonna be all over Crowley (given my other favourite characters in most other franchises) but the first time Aziraphale smiled I M E L T E D. SO PURE AND SWEET Also when "Aziraphale" was said I had a moment of 'oh. that's how you say that' Also the earth and my mom share a birthday. When Nanny Ashtoreth showed up I KNEW I was gonna need more content of her. Wife 100%

The fact that, try as they may, Zira and Crowley are completely incompetent and really only matter in the last like 16 minutes before the end of the world is really great. It's like watching a show that's about the really interesting side characters you get to see for 2 minutes and WISH you got 6 hrs of. Thank you, Neil.

Ep 2 we get to meet Newt and Anathema and omg I love them. I need Anathemas wardrobe ugh. And newt??? disaster Newton Pulsifer??? he's a mood. Not totally sure how I feel about their relationship but I love the contrast of "hey we just met like an hour ago and we're dating now thnks" to "we've known each other for 6000 years but there's no way he likes me the same way? side note, isn't it funny how the world is always emitting a low buzz of love my dear?" "ngk"

Agnes is amazing and I love how sassy she is. 10/10. I love how Aziraphale is not at ALL concerned about being shoved against a wall by Crowley. Like not one bit. He's like "oh finally, it's only taken you 6 millenia" honestly same

Ep 3 gives us the 30 minute cold open who's only purpose is to show how these two kept coming back to each other for 6 millenia, no matter how the last meeting may have gone. Here are a few thoughts:

Crowley has very pretty hair. Also I could 100% see by this point how these two have been gay for each other since day 1. Er rather day 7? Golgotha Crowley is v pretty and learning later that those are traditionally female garments was a treat. That scene was otherwise hard to watch, and they definitely thought so as well. The globe theatre was really fun to watch, I love Shakespeare. Sadly, Hamlet reminds me of my awful 10th grade English teacher. she ADORES that play. So thanks, Aziraphale.

Bastille= PEAK GAY LOOK

I'd seen the church scene and "you go too fast for for me in MANY a gift, but hearing them was OOF. Michael Sheen didn't have to go so hard on that line but OH BOY DID HE EVER. I may have cried.

I honestly didn't realize that the intro didn't play until the middle of the episode until I rewatched it?? like that completely flew over my head.

THE BANDSTAND. THE E M O T I O N. AZIRAPHALE WAS SO HURT. he was so torn because so much of him still wanted to believe in the good of heaven, but his heart (or the angelic equivalent) had long ago sided with Crowley. When Crowley came back and asked him to run away to Alpha Centuri??? UGH. that dude instantly assuming they're gay? same. same random dude. same. And omg Crowley praying??? to God??? he cares about humanity and it SHOWS. By this point I was REALLY relating to Aziraphale. His reluctance to stray from what he knows and was told reminds me so much of myself. that A n x i e t y.

the end of episode 4 and into episode 5 HURT. the bookshop? "I lost my best friend"? The fact that Crowley was ready to give up and wallow drunkenly through the Apocalypse because continuing on or running away held no meaning if he didn't have Aziraphale by his side. I cried. On the other hand, defiant Aziraphale? "Angels can't posses people" "Demons can..." YES BBY STOP BLINDLY FOLLOWING ORDERS!!! FREE THOUGHT BABEY!!! Now: Shadwell and Tracy. Shadwell is hilarious and I love him, end of story. He's just so... out there. crazy dude. Madame Tracy on the other hand? AMAZING. her actress (I can't think of her name and I have a REALLY ONE TRACK MIND) absolutely KILLED it. AMAZING. The seance? That dude who WAS JUST LOVING EVERY SECOND? Loved that so much. still cracks me up. When they first get to the airbase and Crowley compliments his dress and Aziraphales like OwO like fellas they gay.

1970s crowley... the mustache... "Can I hear a Wahoo?" Hastur... love him... "What's a computer" part of me wants to think he's just fucking with Crowley because who wouldn't but also he's so deadpan and yo I can't read expression AT ALL.

Love the fact that Crowley was ready to yeet off to a far off star system light-years away, but at the same times like "you expect me... to go to TADFIELD? In this weather??? Maybe I should drive but I mean, have you SEEN the TRAFFIC Angel? And now the M-25s on fire. Great."

Hastur going from on top of everything and tearing Crowley down to panicking because YOU'RE DRIVING TOWARDS A WALL OF FIRE.

snek eyes :3c

"Young man your CAR is on F I R E"

ALSO the horse people getting lost is peak entertainment. Honestly the horsepeople are great. War? Gorgeous. Famine? Love him. He's got style Pollution??? They're amazing, and also THEY THEM PRONOUNS BABEY. that made me v happy bc I just got used to usin em myself uwu. D E A T H. He knows his aesthetic yall. love it.

suppose nows a good a time as any: THE THEM.

I didn't really like Adam at first, he seemed a bit snobby. he's grown on me now but... ngk. Wenslydale was an instant fave. he's adorable. love him. Brian? total mess. super genuine. Great kid. PEPPER. she's great. she's sassy. she's gonna go far in life. all together, they're a tight knit group and I love them and they're all my children now thabks. and the parallels to the horsepeople? p e r f e c t

Alrighty Episode 6!!!

The beginning terrified me. All this time I was rooting for Zira and Crowley to finally get their happily ever after and yknow how most media is nowadays. There's a reason Fix-it Fics are so popular. So the beginning of the episode scared me. Also Beelzebub 💖

I love the Them vs The Horsepeople. "I believe in Peace, bitch."

I didn't even realize til later that that was Aziraphales sword. didn't even catch that line.

When Beez and Gabriel showed up? THAT DUMB SMILE OF GABES? I really hated Gabriel. The way he treated Aziraphale REALLY rubbed me the wrong way and I just did not like him one bit.

W I N G S. PRETTY WINGS. also didn't even realize that what Crowley did was STOP TIME. LIKE WHSOHDOEBE WHaT? ??

"it burned down... remember?" uuggghhh kill me with how soft and gentle he's being!!! he knows that bookshop MEANT something to Zira hdoehekdn

T H E B O D Y S W A P

the caught me COMPLETELY off guard... at first. I was completely unaware right up until "crowley" was attacked. I caught that little "Tickety boo" and I paused screaming like CROWLEY WOULD NOT SAY THAT IN THAT SCENARIO NO WAY THAT IS N O T ANTHONY J CROWLEY W H A T

The heaven scene solidified my then hatred for Gabriel. I like him now but oof that scene he's still VERY punchable.

Crowley: Nearly threw hands with the Archangel Gabriel

The Hell trial. So Extra. Asking for a rubber duck? iconic! "Michael, dude!" oh mood.

when they switch back and it's all revealed? G l o r i o u s. They played each other so well!!! honestly props to Michael and David, their acting was PHENOMENAL.

The ending. A happy ending. The amount of love with which Zira says "to the world" killed me. I'm dead now thanks to that. I'm typing this from the grave, that's how powerful that line is. Honestly, knowing next to nothing going in was kind of wild and my crazy reblogging spree actually got some of my mutuals to watch the show which is pretty neat. Going back through 3 more times now, Aziraphale definitely resonates with me the most. I actually have a small blurb I wrote on the positive effects he's had on my perception of myself in terms of stimming.

All in All this show hit me in a way I did NOT expect it to, and I'm glad I found it when I did. I was at a point where I was kinda feeling like I'd never really have a fulfilling relationship because of my asexuality, and then I found good omens. I def read the characters as ace while watching it and it was amazing seeing two characters who can love each other fully, without the need for anything explicit. The show was an instant fav and I'm trying to find a physical copy of the book (that I can afford) so I can read the original text. This is a story that's going to stay important to me for a very long time, I can feel it.

#was asked in a discord server about my first impressions #having only seen the show #this got WAY too long and i got scared to share it there cuz its a wall of text #so im putting it here #good omens #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #good omens tv #good omens prime

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

Note

Romance asks for all your OCs because I love them all: 1, 5, 11, 16, 20, 24, 25

@liveinthehills Thanks so much for all the asks, lovely! And thank you for your patience in waiting for me to fill this while I was at the convention this weekend :)

From the Romance Asks list. CW for childhood abuse, mentions of BDSM

1. What drew your character to their LI and vice versa?

Sarya loved Cullen's warm eyes. She was definitely a bit wary of him, but she couldn't help being drawn to someone who looked on her so kindly. Cullen was drawn to Sarya from the time he first saw her, when she was brought to Haven unconscious from the Breach. Despite his background, he was unconvinced that such a kind looking person could be responsible for all the death that had happened, at least not on purpose (a bit naive, he knows). Seeing Sarya work so hard to help people immediately after waking just solidified that for him.

Frederick's not going to lie, he loves Dorian's mustache. How often do you see a man looking so well put together with facial hair like that in Ferelden? But he also loves Dorian's unique outlook on life, and how critical he can be of Frederick to keep him grounded. Dorian enjoys Frederick's tenacity. Frederick was able to see past his hesitations and just push through Dorian's barriers to get close to him, and Dorian will forever be thankful for that.

Lana was drawn to Alistair's humor, and his wanting to look after her. She won't admit it, but she craves companionship, and he was one of the first people to really show a want for that with her without being afraid of her. Alistair thought Lana was the cutest, tiniest elf he'd ever seen and was instantly thankful that Duncan had conscripted her. More than superficial, though, he was drawn to her timidness that quickly turns to fire in battle or when someone she's grown close to needs to be verbally defended.

5. How do they comfort each other when they are sad?

Cullen doesn't show it very often, so when Sarya catches him like that it's usually after a bout of his nightmares. After those she holds him, runs her fingers through his hair and hums to calm him until he falls back asleep. Sarya wears her emotions a bit closer to the surface despite how hard she tries to push them down, and Cullen learns quickly how to read her. He knows sweets are the way to her heart, so he'll surprise her with little treats, and on one particularly rough occasion (when she was in need of a new steed anyway) a hart.

Frederick gives Dorian all the affection when he's down. He has a lot of love to give, and he's happy to bring a smile back to Dorian's face with cuddles and kisses. Dorian shows his love with little gifts, and he often presents them when Frederick needs a pick-me-up. Sometimes it's a book he knows Frederick will like, and once he brought a cloth of berries and offered to let Frederick feed them to him (an instant favorite for Frederick).

Alistair's more apt to slip into bouts of sadness when they're travelling and there's not much for his mind to focus on, so in those instances Lana comforts him by holding his hand, giving little squeezes, occasionally running her nail down his palm to tickle it and make him laugh as he pulls it back to scratch it with a wide smile. Lana has regular nightmares that wake her, and she often wakes to Alistair pulling her tight against him. He'll essentially smother her with love until she feels better, or else try to make her laugh.

11. Do they have any inside jokes?

Cullen and Sarya have been known to mock the Orlesians at the Winter Palace behind closed doors whenever their time at Celene’s ball comes up. Sarya made a snide comment in an Orlesian accent at the War Table once and earned a scolding from Josephine, so they make sure they're alone now when they do it (although, Leliana seemed to find some amusement in it as well).

Frederick was convinced, because his Uncle had told him so, that mages in Tevinter actually drink the blood of demons while conducting blood magic. Dorian’s never let him live it down and brings it up rather regularly. “You want me to use magic to take out that demon over there? Wait one moment, Amatus. It’s quite large, I had better get out my drinking vial.”

It’s not so much an inside joke, but Alistair regularly teases Lana about her aversion to bugs. To outsiders looking in, they probably wouldn’t notice at first the issue of alistair lightly running a feather against the back of her neck while they’re sitting in a tavern until the shrieking starts.

16. Jealous at all?

Sarya isn’t very jealous, but then again Cullen gives her no reason to be. She definitely wouldn’t feel very secure in their relationship if he was regularly flirting with another woman, but she also has no feelings of jealousy if he’s talking to other women. Cullen is probably more jealous than she is, although he’d never admit it.

Frederick is flirtatious, although he dials it back a bit once he and Dorian become a couple. Dorian notices the effort so he doesn’t think too much on it when Frederick is being friendly with other men. Frederick can be a little jealous at times, and he won’t hesitate to tell Dorian as much. Dorian finds the jealousy a bit endearing, though, and has lightly poked at it from time to time.

Lana is fairly insecure, so it’s easy for her to fall into a hole of jealousy. She’s not vocal about it, however, so jealousy from her looks like caving inward, becoming quiet, sometimes leaving a situation alone and not expecting Alistair to follow her. Alistair has been known to get a bit jealous as well, although more from men giving a lot of attention to Lana since she’s so timid that she never reciprocates that attention. There have definitely been a few times he’s had to step in between with a big mention of, “Yes, well, my GIRLFRIEND and I need to leave, unfortunately. So. Goodbye!”

20. Did either person change at all, to be with their partner?

As a blanket response, none of them changed in order to be with their partner, however they all have changed as a result of the relationship itself. Sarya and Cullen both learned to not hide their emotions from each other and to learn to lean on someone else. Frederick becomes more level headed because of Dorian, thinking things through and seeing things as a larger world picture rather than just Ferelden, whereas Dorian gains feelings of belonging and learns to put his total trust in Frederick. It takes a very long time, but Lana learns to accept the love that Alistair gives her and to not push people away. Alistair gains a sense of worth, that he can choose his own path in life rather than letting others choose it for him. He also becomes more assertive for her, because she’s not great at sticking up for herself.

24. Is their any moment that happens between them that you know happens and just makes you melt?

Late nights with Sarya and Cullen, when most of Skyhold has gone to sleep and they won’t be disturbed. They pull pillows and blankets down by the fire, go over reports with one another, and ultimately end up falling asleep in each other's arms.

After meeting with Dorian’s father in Redcliffe, Frederick makes a really big point to show Dorian how wanted and loved he is, as he is. Frederick changes things around in his own chambers to make it inviting to Dorian, such as replacing many of his own books in his bookcase with ones Dorian would enjoy, and tells Dorian he never has to sleep anywhere else if he doesn’t want to. Dorian’s his family as much as his blood, and he makes sure that Dorian knows that.

Alistair tying a bandage on Lana's hand for her, before they're together, that results in him holding her hand for longer than needed. I'm a sucker for romantic tropes, and there are a lot of them in their story.

25. Share any headcanons about their relationship.

Cullen has no idea, but Sarya writes to Cullen’s sister, Mia, monthly. Mia became tired of waiting to hear anything from Cullen, so she now also writes directly to Sarya.

Although he can’t always stay for long periods of time, Frederick goes to Tevinter quite regularly after the events of DAI. He can’t manage to stay away from Dorian for too long, and prefers to be there for him with everything that Dorian has to come home to.

I’ve learned recently that a lot of people headcanon Alistair as more of a sub partner, but because of the dynamic of his relationship with Lana and her life he becomes (in a sense, without Alistair having any real knowledge of it) a bit of a dom for her, in order to help her heal from a lot of her trauma. Zevran picks up on this dynamic of theirs after a while and, with a large smirk, makes Alistair turn red as a radish with suggestions of good knots to use and such. “You see how red her wrists are? That rope will not do, my friend. Have you tried this? It is made in Antiva, so, a little more expensive, but worth it, is it not?”

#liveinthehills #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age origins #surana #lavellan #trevelyan #lana surana #sarya lavellan #frederick trevelyan #my ocs #oc asks

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silverineontherun · 5 years

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What is this?! This is a gift for twitter users @etangerine_1 and @uccello8059, fellow latines and hardcore corason shippers like me jsjs. Inspired by this edit by Eve Eleidan! Here we go!

Coran x Iverson || 1.7k || G rated || Post canon (kinda)

In all his years, Commander Iverson has met all types of people. Until not long ago, he considered he had seen everything, being on the second half of his life already, and with first row seats to the Galra invasion and the Coalition contact.

Until he met Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, that is.

The Altean was a true force of nature. He has to admit that his first impression of him was that he was a very noisy, slightly irritating person, and he even considered that if all aliens shared his eccentric personality, it could become a problem for him, used to military discipline and not... whatever Team Voltron – his kids once, now heroes of the galaxy— had going.

But with so many changes happening around them, with so many creatures to work with and so many threats over them, he got used to it very quickly. In fact, dealing with the Altean soon stopped being a chore.

Especially once he realized that Coran is a real hard worker, a quality he appreciates in humans and aliens alike. Watching his role at the Atlas crew, and later as the nexus between the Garrison and New Altea, they started having direct contact and that allowed Iverson to also discover that the Altean is smart, loyal and kind. Well, he knew already about his golden heart, because he had to see it be broken at the Princess’ departure years ago, but his way of healing was very telling itself. Never one to be bitter, Coran always strived to be better, and if that wasn’t endearing…

So, at some point among their exchanges, Iverson’s perception of Coran changed. He started smiling at his long ramblings and offer to accompany him on his visits. He started waiting for his calls and wishing for more meetings to be summoned.

Soon, he could identify his feelings as something he hasn’t felt in a good while. His rocky heart – dedicated for so long exclusively to his students and the Garrison— seems to be throwing one last tantrum before it completely dries.

He likes to think this change is only due to the growth of their relationship through mutual respect, and not at all pushed by that time he saw Coran get rid of his jacket showing off two strong arms, crawling under his own ship to fix a sudden leakage with amazing ease.

But anyway, the old dog still has a beating heart and, as embarrassing as it may be, today he finds himself visiting Colleen’s botanical garden and watching the pink flowers he knows are Altean in their origin. The famous juniberries.

So, on a scale of 1 to utter buffoon, how stupid is to ask Colleen to give him enough of these for a bouquet?

“Commander Iverson?” suddenly says a male voice behind him, making him flinch and turn around violently.

Lance McClain steps back, startled by his reaction. Iverson, blushing, takes a hand to his chest.

“Lieutenant McClain… Uh, sorry. Did you need something from here, or…?”

He stops, staring at the ex-paladin’s face. His Altean marks shine in a soft blue, and he swallows. Right. It’s been quite a few years already, but he still can’t get used to the marks on his ex-student face. How does one get some of these?

Lance looks relieved at the change in his tone but also, to his disgrace, curious. His blue eyes travel from the flowers to the instructor in a way that doesn’t augur anything good.

“Nope. I was just asked to come to get Colleen for a meeting and was going to ask you if you’ve seen her,” he replies, his tone excessively casual.

“No. Sorry, uh, no,” answers Iverson, clearing his throat. After doubting for a moment, he makes a military salute and tries to leave, but Lance stops him.

“Wait, sir! Err, may I—Can I ask you something?”

‘I’d rather NOT’, wants to answer Iverson, feeling his jaw taut. Instead, he answers:

“Sure thing, Lieutenant.”

Lance gives a step forward and crosses his arms in front of the flowers, looking at them with fond eyes, before dropping the bomb.

“Sir… could you be in need of, you know… Altean courting advice?”

Goddammit, he should have run away when he could. Instead, Iverson feels his face burning and, trying to swallow, he chokes. As if he wasn’t ashamed enough.

“M—McClain!” he wheezes.

“Sorry sir, it just looked that way!” apologizes Lance, patting his back to help him breathe.

Still coughing, he glares at his scared ex-student. The lanky boy he knew is now a strong, grown-up man who survived an entire war, but at least he still fidgets under his gaze. He is about to use the last remnants of dignity that he has left when he suddenly realizes.

His now colleague does know about Altean customs and such, after all. Prime source. Also, he trusts him. Maybe…?

Who is he kidding, he needs the help. Besides, when will he get another opportunity to ask about it without even having to explain what’s going on?

Thinking it thoroughly, God bless Lance McClain.

“Let’s suppose…” mumbles Iverson, narrowing his eyes. “In the hypothetical case I did… would you happen to know where to get it?”

Lance opens his eyes wide, and then the corners of his mouth twitch.

“I mean, I know where… Which is right here, because I was trained by a certain Altean himself, but still, there are some uh, quirks—”

“Spill,” grumbles Iverson, and he understands he will have to swallow his pride and tolerate that smug look on Lance’s face if he is to get the information he needs.

“I’ll try my best sir, but you have to promise you won’t attempt anything against me after it,” says Lance.

“What does that mean?”

“Just promise it and we’ll be set.”

It can’t be that terrible, right? After a moment of consideration, Iverson extends a reluctant hand that Lance shakes with a smirk.

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

“McClain, you are DEAD.”

“Sir, the promise!”

“Is this payback? Do you resent me that much?” asks Iverson, staring at his reflection in Lance’s mirror with horror. He looks like a kid improvising a costume in his mama’s kitchen, pot in the head included. Except he is a grown-ass man, close to retirement and currently wishing for a quick death.

“I swear on my husband’s life this is what Coran made me wear that time,” answers Lance, giving a cautious step back. “In fact, he’s my witness, we can call him—”

“Enough! This is absurd! You’re just mocking me, and I won’t stand for—”

They hear the door suddenly open and Iverson feels his heart stop.

“Oh dear. What is this?” asks a loud voice, and Iverson turns his head so quick the pot over it threatens to fall. Coran is at the door, looking at the scene with round eyes.

“Coran! Y-you’re early,” stutters Lance.

“You told Merla I had to come as soon as the meeting was over so I hurried, but… What is this?” he repeats, and if Iverson’s tired good eye isn’t failing him, the Altean’s ears are turning pink.

“Right! Yeah! But now I that remember I uh, I gotta go! Paperwork, what a drag, right? So, Commander Iverson, I leave it to you, then!” Lance blabbers, and bolts to the door before Iverson can extend one hand and grab him by the collar of his uniform.

How the hell did this ridiculous man get himself a husband with this attitude is a mystery to his teacher, who stares daggers at him as he leaves.

However, just when the door is closing, Lance suddenly turns and points eagerly to his left side. Out of the corner of his eye, Iverson sees something that makes his stomach drop: three juniberries lie in the table by his side, pretty and aromatic and absolutely out of place.

It really couldn’t get any worse.

There is a moment of silence between the two men before Coran loudly clears his throat and nervously tugs at his own mustache.

“Commander Iverson,” he greets him, clearly trying to sound cheerful.

“Mr. Wimbleton,” answers Iverson, feeling his mouth dry at the way Coran looks up and down his attire. Doubtful, the Altean says:

“Excuse me, but I can’t help but notice the… garments.”

“I— I can explain,” retorts Iverson, even though he actually can’t. But Coran peers at him in silence again and then, after a pause, he lowers his eyes.

“You should have asked me. The royal family is no more, and… Well, there are other ways to court an Altean lady,” he states.

“What?” asks Iverson, dumbfounded. Coran crosses his arms and walks around him now, appreciative.

“A valiant effort, nonetheless. The lady is so lucky! She will be pleased to know you are so eager to prove your worth!”

“No, wait—”

“Of course, Lance never was one to understand the subtleties of Altean courtship, but at least he tried this time…”

“But—”

“However, with Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe assisting you, success is guaranteed! We just have to—”

He can’t keep talking, because Iverson puts a hand over his mouth in the most impulsive move he has ever made in his entire life. And it hasn’t been a short life.

“Mr. Coran. Y-you misunderstood. I don’t intend— I’m not into— Urgh!!”

He just picks one of the juniberries from the table by his side and offers it to Coran, who looks down at it, mouth still covered. Iverson slowly lowers the offender hand, watching how the Altean’s gorgeous eyes look at the flower, wide open. And then, the way he raises them to his own face.

He knows he is sweating bullets, dressed as a clown and flushed to the top of his head, which isn’t a good look. How long would Admiral Shirogane take to accept his early retirement application if he submitted it right now?

But then Coran takes the flower and smiles at it. Loud, eccentric and flamboyant as he is, Coran can still show such a shy smile, and Iverson simply feels his rocky heart melt. He gulps when Coran tucks the flower behind one of his pointy ears and looks at him.

God, they are mature men, but now? Iverson feels like a simple teenager in love.

“How does it look?” asks Coran, the corners of his eyes crinkling playfully. Iverson takes a sharp breath.

“Gorgeous,” he answers, unable to hide his endeared tone.

Coran smirks now, his expression shifting to mischief.

“See? Success guaranteed,” he says, and he steps closer, giving Commander Iverson the sensation that his lifespan has been extended at least a thousand years.

Retirement would have to wait a few more centuries then, it seems.

#corason #iveran #coran #iverson #vld #silv writes #I have no self-control lmao

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thetakenpokemon · 5 years

Text

Act 1 - HQ

[PoV: Torrent]

After following the hidden path, I eventually arrive at the disguised entrance. Walking to one of the rocks jutting out of the stone wall I pull it, revealing a hidden scanner. A blue beam of light shoots out and quickly washes over my body, after only a few seconds the beam vanishes and the hidden doorway slides open.

Placing the cover back I quickly walk inside before the door slides closed.

Our base of operations is hidden in the Green Peaks, a mountain range located on the northern area of the border. As their namesake these mountains are covered in trees, and they’re located right next to the Divided Forest.

Walking down the metal halls I keep my gaze fixed ahead, not bothering to acknowledge the occasional security camera looking at me.

Eventually the hall opens into the Main Hanger, the place where all preparations are made.

The HQ has numerous entrances, several of them connected to the Main Hanger. The openings located in the Main hanger are designed to release vehicles into hidden paths, such as the armored land vehicles and the airship. We also have several entrances for personnel use, all appropriately hidden along the mountain.

Dead ahead of me I see several Humans unloading their equipment from the ship.

Ah, so they’ve returned already.

Me, the doctor, the other cyborgs, and this team of Humans are the only ones that inhabit this incredibly spacious place.

I’ve never quite bothered to learn the name of this Human’s group, but I do know that they’re incredibly skilled mercenaries hired by the Doctor.

“Yo! Hey there Blue Boy!” One of them shouts at me, waving their hand.

My eyes narrow slightly at the nickname, but I simply acknowledge him with a nod anyways.

The one who spoke to me is Chris. He and his brother Scott go by the names of Whisky and Tango while out during their operations.

They’re both twin brothers, sharing many similar features such as their light skin, bright orange hair, green eyes, and freckles on their face. Some differences are that Scott has short straight hair while Chris has curly hair, that and Chris has a mustache. The two are still in their combat suits, the forest camouflage pattern sticking out like a sore thumb in the gray metal interior of the building.

In the group they follow the role of standard assault soldiers.

Scott walks over to his twin brother and rests an arm on his shoulder, looking at me with a playful grin that I’ve grown accustomed to. “It’s not often that you come to greet us. Did we do something to deserve this special treatment?”

Rolling my eyes slightly I turn my attention to the other members of the crew.

Stepping off the ramp of the ship is the pilot, Sangria - also known as Harrier.

She’s a woman with long bright-red hair - dyed from what I’ve been told, brown eyes, and light skin. Her attire is relatively simple, consisting of a tan tank-top and cargo pants as well as black boots. Resting around her neck is a pair of dog-tags, and on her arm is a tattoo of a red, white, and blue ring - related to some sort of airforce from what she told me.

Walking past the twin brothers she gives them a shove, nearly knocking the two off balance. “Special treatment? Please, the only thing you two really deserve is a smack at the back of the head.” She says to them before turning to me. Immediately her exasperated look is gone, replaced with a grin. “Good to see you by the way, Torrent.”

My expression softens somewhat upon seeing her. “Likewise.” I answer back.

She chuckles at my short response, clearly used to it. She turns and makes her way to the other side of her ship, most likely to survey it for any possible damage.

Off to the side I see Kiana, who’s currently looking at her datapad while standing over several large dark-gray metal cubes.

Kiana is also known as Katt, and she’s the technician of the group. She has bright blue eyes as well as black skin and hair. Half of her head is shaved, while the other half consists of long braids - the style referred to has ‘dreadlocks’ supposedly. Sticking out of the dark braids is a bright streak of blue, also dyed. Her suit is very similar in design to the twins, although sharing the forest camouflage it’s outfitted with different utilities due to her different role.

She glances at me for a moment before giving me a friendly nod, only to go back to looking over her datapad.

A loud clang rings the air, drawing my attention away from Kiana. The source of this is from Ricardo, having set down a giant metal crate. Looking up from the crate he smiles widely, opening his arms wide.

“Ahh, so the ‘Cyborg of few words’ has arrived!” He laughs, shaking his head before his expression turns to a more relaxed smile. “I kid, I kid. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Torrent.”

Although everyone in the team is very fit and well-built, Ricardo - also referred to as Savant - is a man that’s definitely more than that. His body has far larger muscles than the rest of his companions, that combined with his rather large height. He has short black hair, dark skin, and blue-gray eyes. His attire consists of a dark gray tank-top, rural camouflage cargo pants, and gray metal armor wrapped around his left arm.

Ricardo is the heavy munitions specialist of the group, operating and wielding all sorts of powerful weaponry the group has at their disposal.

I give him a nod as well, in which he gives me a thumbs up before returning to the ship to unload the remaining crates.

There’s one last member of the team I haven’t seen yet. It took me only a few moments to locate her, and as expected she’s far off from the group.

Akemi is different compared to the rest of the group. The first five are ex-soldiers, however Akemi is merely a civilian who had to take up a gun due to a war in her country. From what I’ve been told she is the most skilled sniper that their team has ever seen, and from what I’ve witnessed during a few missions I’ve quickly come to believe it.

Although covered by her hoodie, Akemi - called Onryo or sometimes even Ghost - has brown hair and lighter brown eyes. Her skin is light and I could just barely make out the indifferent expression on her face.

Further cementing the fact that she’s not a soldier, her attire differs drastically than the rest of the group. She’s wearing a black hoodie, jeans, and boots. Resting around her neck is a black bandanna, and in her hands is the bag that’s currently holding her disassembled sniper rifle.

She doesn’t acknowledge my presence, in which I’m fine with.

Not forgetting the reason why I returned, I quickly walk past the group and head deeper into HQ. I have one path in mind, and it’s the one that will take me to the doctor.

He needs to know of the change of activity in the Divided Forest.

“Hey, nice talk!” Chris shouts at me as I leave the hanger. “We should do this again sometime!”

Just as I enter the other hallway, I hear a smack followed by a chastising tone from Kiana. Only rolling my eyes, I don’t make any comment.

That group is always...’interesting’...

#torrentgallade #chrisdallas #scottdallas #kianahudson #sangriajenkins #akemikito #ricardosantiago #???#plot #act 1-3

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