#But very much Shay's POV

[midwestmade29]

For the Both of Us 🧡

Just a sweet story about Hangman 🥰 Not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited about this one 🤭🖤

Word Count: 1,888 Divider by: @saradika-graphics *GIF is not mine

Disclaimers: Just a couple of curse words, that's it! 🙂

This story is written from the POV of Hangman Adam Page 🤠

Fiction

Hangman has a very important question to ask Y/N's father...

Today’s the day. I’m going to ask Y/N’s father for his permission to marry her. We haven’t been together for very long, but there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s the one! I’ve met all her family, and they seem to like me just fine. Her dad is a different story. He doesn’t like my career choice; he says he doesn’t understand it. He’s been vocal about his dislike for the way I dress and my longer hair, and our opinions and views on things don’t always match up. There is one thing we do have in common though, and that’s our love we have for Y/N. 

After sitting in my truck for the last 15 minutes trying to calm my racing heart, I finally put one foot in front of the other and knocked on the front door. Y/N’s mother opened it and greeted me with a smile and a hug. I handed her the wildflowers I had picked on my way over as I crossed the threshold. 

I had called her a few days ago to let her in on my plan and she was thrilled! My ear is still ringing a little from the loud shriek she let out. “It’s good to see you, sweetie! Y/N’s dad is about to come in from the fields for lunch if you want to wait with me in the kitchen. I can fix you something to eat too, get you a beer to calm your nerves? Maybe something stronger? I’ll even have one with you!” Y/N’s mother seemed just as nervous as I was with the way she was rambling, but I still appreciated her kindness. She’s who Y/N gets her loving and caring nature from. “I’ll take you up on that beer. Thanks,” I smiled. She opened the two beers and clinked her bottle to mine before we each took a swig. 

Sitting and waiting for Y/N’s father was tortuous as the minutes ticked on. I was fidgeting on the barstool and my palms were sweaty. I kept going over what I wanted to say to him in my head while trying to maintain small talk with Y/N’s mother. She gave her best effort trying to soothe my nerves, her words of comfort were making me feel better, “Now I know Y/N’s father can be a bit of a hard ass, but I also know he just wants what’s best for his little girl. I see the way you and Y/N look at each other, how she lights up whenever you walk into a room. She’s completely smitten with you Adam! I’ve never seen her happier than she is with you,” I can’t hide my stupid grin, even when I try to by pressing my beer bottle against my lips. I’ve got it so bad for this girl.

Our casual conversation came to a halt when the back door opened and the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor echoed through the small hallway leading to the kitchen. “Somethin’ sure smells good in here,” Y/N’s father called out. The slight smile he had on his face when he looked at his wife quickly faded when he noticed me sitting at the counter. Y/N’s mother cleared her throat, breaking the silence that had suddenly fallen around the 3 of us, “Hi honey! Your lunch is ready, want me to get it for you? Adam here wanted to have a little chat with you too. He was just telling me all about this week’s wrestling show, weren’t you sweetie?” I smiled and nodded in her direction; my mouth now felt as dry as a desert. With a low groan, Y/N’s father spoke up, “Well, come on son. I don’t have all day; the fields still need tending to and I didn’t set aside much time for a lunch break. Let me wash up real quick and I’ll meet you in the living room,”

The ticking coming from the clock on the mantel was deafening while I sat and twiddled my thumbs on the couch. I practically jumped out of my skin when Y/N’s father made his presence known suddenly, “Let’s get things going, son. What’s on your mind that’s so important you felt the need to interrupt a hard-workin’ man’s lunchtime?” From his tone and the way he plopped down in his favorite recliner, I could already tell he was in no mood for small talk or beating around the bush. I swallowed my nerves and got right to it, “I know time is of the essence for you sir, so I’ll try and make this quick. I came here today to ask for your blessing. I want to ask your daughter to marry me,” My voice came out a lot shakier than I wanted it to. “Y/N is everything to me, and I want nothing more than for her to be my wife. It’s important to her, and to me to have your blessing,”

Y/N’s father seemed to be lost in thought, or possibly avoiding the topic at hand. The stillness in the room threatened to make me insane, but I wasn’t quite sure how to navigate this conversation. I said the first thing that popped in my head next, “Sir, I know you don’t like me much, but I am a good man. I can’t imagine how hard it is to give permission to someone who wants to take something that means the whole world to you away. I work hard and I’m good at what I do. I’m an honorable man and I will strive every day to be everything your daughter needs. I support her dreams, the vision she has for her future. She’s all I’ve ever wanted in a spouse, a best friend. I can’t promise that things will always be easy, but I promise to love her enough for the both of us,”

The man continued to sit in the chair, stiff as a board. I’m convinced he was enjoying making me squirm while I waited for him to show any kind of life. I was just about to excuse myself to leave, but when he eventually spoke up, his words stopped me in my tracks. “Are you sure you’re not proposin’ to me son? Them’s some romantic words you just said to me. You’re shit outta luck if you are cause’ I’ve been happily married for 40 years,” his tone and expression unreadable. “Excuse me?” I asked full of confusion. The laugh he let out came from deep in his belly and only continued to grow as he took in the dumbfounded look I had on my face. When he caught his breath, he decided to put an end to my suffering, “I’m just yanking your chain boy! You’ll have to forgive me for my piss poor joke. It’s not every day I have someone askin’ me for my daughter’s hand in marriage,” He pushed the leg rest down and stood up, still chuckling to himself as he walked over to me. I joined in, laughing nervously as I rose to my feet too. “Before you go on and say somethin’ else, I have somethin’ I want to say too,” he explained. I nodded my head, looking him in the same rich brown eyes that Y/N has and let him say his peace. “I know I give you heck whenever you’re around. It’s just the way this old stubborn farmer is I suppose. You can ask my wife, she’ll confirm just how stubborn and set in my ways I am,”

“I know that’s right!” Y/N’s mother called out from nearby. We both shared a genuine laugh at his expense before he continued, “Y/N is my baby girl, my pride and joy. We’ve had a special bond ever since she was little and sometimes it’s hard for this old man to accept that she’s not so little anymore. I know you’re a good man, son and I know she loves you just as much as you do her. I guess what I’m gettin’ at is, I’ll give you my blessing, but I have a couple of conditions,” His face went back to serious which made me swallow hard and shift on my feet a little bit, but at this point I was about to agree to whatever this man wanted as long as it meant I could marry Y/N. “Okay, sure. What are your conditions?”

“One is, you’re gonna have to explain this wrestling stuff to me again. Help me understand what exactly it is you do. Two is, you’ll talk to Y/N and her mother and convince them to let me wear my boots with whatever get up they’re gonna want me to wear to the wedding. There ain’t no way I’m cramming these size 13’s in a pair of dress shoes,” The relief I felt when he smiled a genuine smile was immediate. All tension felt like it had left the room, and it was as if a new leaf had been turned. I returned his smile, grinning from ear to ear when my brain finally registered what he just said. My words rushed out as happiness washed over me, “Yes sir! I think that can be arranged. You’ve got yourself a deal,”

I extended my hand to him, and he gripped it firmly, shaking it swiftly before pulling me in for a hug. “Well, it’s settled then. I give you my blessing to ask Y/N to marry you. Looks like there’s gonna be a wedding soon!” he sang. Y/N’s mother clapped and cheered as she entered the room, her eyes glossed over with happiness as she embraced me tightly for the second time today. “Oh honey, I’m so happy for you two! Y/N is gonna make the most beautiful bride, and you’ll be the most handsome groom! Oh! Show me the ring sweetie! Please tell me you brought the ring with you!” the excitement in her mother’s voice was contagious, it made Y/N’s father and I laugh at her very animated antics. “It’s uh, actually out in my truck but I’d be happy to go and get it,” I offered. Before she could answer, Y/N’s father spoke up for the last time of the day, “And that son is my cue to get back to the fields. I trust you’ll let us know when you’re planning on popping the question,” “Of course, sir. I’ll keep you guys in the loop,” With a pat on my shoulder and a nod, he made his way back to the kitchen and out the back door. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Y/N would be arriving since she had promised to help her mother with some of the farm chores, so I rushed out to my truck and grabbed the ring box. I opened it and the small diamond sparkled in the sun, causing me to grin at the thought of it doing the same thing once I slide it on my future bride’s finger. When I was finally able to make my leave, I smiled like an idiot the entire drive home. I started to picture Y/N in a fancy white dress walking down the aisle, right to me. I don’t know what I ever did in life to deserve an angel like her, but I’m so damn lucky she’s mine.

[kidgeygirl]

It's been many, many years since I've written anything for Voltron, but here I am. Despite many complaints, my heart has always been stuck on our favorite red and green duo. Lately, I've been back in the fandom, and now that I've matured into early adulthood, I've decided to try and find the perfect way to write them post war, but realistically (or at least, semi-realistically).

I honestly don't know how many people are still in this fandom, but I will regret not sharing my thoughts (internal storyline that has slowly been building up since forever.) so here I am. :)

Anyways, if anyone reading this is interested, here are some things to know.

I'm a slow updater, and I very much hate most of the stuff I write. So please bear with me as I navigate this story to how I envision it.

This is not my main account, this is strictly a Voltron/Kidge account, so I'm not expecting a lot of traction— however, at times this might cause a hit at my confidence, despite knowing that fact. So again, bear with me.

I'm a compliment girlie. If you read this story once it's out and like it, please let me know. It will help me in the long run and encourage me to keep this going.

I don't remember everything about Voltron as I haven't watched it fully in years, so I'm going to rewatch all of it before writing. (Don't worry, I don't have too much of a busy life right now besides babysitting.) So this story won't be right away, but I will be writing down scenes/passages while writing. I might even create a few one shots, behind the scenes stuff you won't see in the story, to give you some extra Kidge.

SOME THINGS ABOUT THE STORY—

Flames of Ubiquity ~ When Keith and the Blades, a group of elite warriors, reach out to Katie for assistance on a critical mission, they discover that their past bond is far from forgotten. As they face danger, betrayal, and the weight of the universe, their connection reignites into something even more profound. Secrets unravel, alliances shift, and the line between duty and personal loyalty blurs. Amidst the chaos of battle, Keith and Katie find themselves drawn together, their shared history woven into every decision they make.

But this isn't just about saving the universe; it's about saving each other. As they navigate treacherous terrain, they confront their own vulnerabilities, fears, and desires. Keith, haunted by his past, seeks redemption. Katie, brilliant and determined, grapples with the sacrifices she's made for her family. Together, they forge a new path—one that transcends duty and becomes a testament to resilience, trust, and love.

As the Blades' mission unfolds, Keith and Katie must confront not only external threats but also the complexities of their emotions.

After the battle is won, will they embrace this newfound connection and ignite a brilliant flame together, or will it consume them—reducing everything they’ve cherished to ashes?

————

Ages— Keith 25, Katie (Pidge) 21

————

Here, we find that Pidge goes more by 'Katie'. Only the ones closest to her call her Pidge. (Family, Paladins.)

———

Allura is alive!!

———

Ships— Kidge. Allurance. Hunk&Shay. Shiro and Curtis. Matt and V.

———

This is a slow burn!! (In a way). It's not a large storyline, as I'm not planning to be a whole book. Kind of more of a mini series. (I haven't decided how many chapters, so maybe it'll change.)

This is told in Third POV, but you can tell when it switches its focus from Katie and Keith.

———

(I will be posting a playlist.)

[streaminn]

For the streamer enid with a twin au

I don't know if you like country music but I was listening to Mercy by Brett Young and I swear that's literally just Enid's pov towards wednesday especially after getting those late night calls from her. This au is so damn heartbreaking that whenever I read all that angst I need a minute to get over it 😔 though I will never say no to some emotional pain or jealousy from Wednesday. Enid is my favorite character so I like it when she's hurting but I feel like most of the time it's her being jealous and stuff so it'd be nice to see the reverse. Only if you want to or like that idea of course I'm not trying to be pushy.

Oh there's another song called speechless by Dan + Shay and Tori Kelly that I think works pretty good for any of the aus where they're happily together.

My favorite so far is the demon baby au though. Gotta love those cute kids. That said I really enjoy all of your aus and I'm so glad that you're willing to share them and your art.

an au inside an au, is WILD

but anyways, listening to the song and im ;-; i didnt expect people to really like enid being sad asf while wednesday goes and gets married. Seriously, that is Enid's pov.

She's just "dam, this is my life now. Stuck lingering on the shadows of Wednesday Addams." i think the reason why she hasn't moved on is bc she hasnt at all confessed. She's the rock remember? the stability and Enid, even if it hurts her to admit, loves that position. She loves that despite wednesday's family being there, Wednesday goes to her. She's special to wednesday, not special enough to be married- not special enough to spend forever with but special enough to go to her and that..?

is bittersweet. Enid takes that position with clenched jaw and blurring eyes because its better than to be nothing.

honestly the only reason yall dont see wednesday jealous is bc i mostly write things from enid's pov and she's a very unreliable narrator in most of my aus. For all she knows, Wednesday could be jealous asf and longing too in song 2.

glad you enjoy my aus anon its flattering :)) demon baby au is so cute too and now that im thinking of it, devotion au has the same premise but is much darker..

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

What's your favourite part of the Hermann/Halstead Production series? Who are your favourite characters to write for? Which characters who have not interacted much do you look forward to writing interacting/want to interact? And is there anything that you wish you had added in after you'd posted it?

❤️❤️❤️❤️ love and adore this series!

Oooh, okay, this is fun!

My favourite part is writing the whole fix-it aspect of the AU and writing the relationships between everyone. I've become very attached to this little gang!

Favourite characters to write for: Bex for sure and writing scenes with her and any of her brothers. I was surprised at how much I am loving writing from Will's POV. Especially scenes with him and Connor. Beau has also caught me by surprise, lol - he's fun to write for sure.

I really want more with the OG Fire crew so I'm working on making that happen. There's a bit coming up in Part 19 with Bex, Shay, and Otis that I'm really excited about. I also want to bring Bex's friend group in more and flesh put those characters. Oh and more with Kevin and Sylvie, working on that too. 🥰 Plus more with the temporary, but fun ship that I hinted at.

Hmm, I think everything I've missed I've been able to shove in somehow, lol - not always as smoothly as I'd like. I have the whole series mapped out though (for up to like...Part 50 at this point, help 😅) so I haven't had TOO many instances when I had to squeeze something in. (....also, this ask is making me think I missed something 🤣🤣🤣)

Thanks for the ask! This was fun!

[treasureswordsgirl55]

My Everything

Character: Marc Spector

Pairing: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Inspired by: Lipstick - Dan & Shay

Warnings: Fluff. Mentions of bad days. Thoughts. Marc's POV. Mentions of Steven. Mentions of Layla. Post!Moon Knight. Insecurities.

Author's Note: Hello Everybody again!!!

I'm sorry about being out of Tumblr all this time, but my exams don't let me some rest. Just today I'm free and for a few days.

And I was having a writer block. I have a lot of ideas but the inspiration wasn't there. I hope you understand me.

So, sorry again. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

But, I'm here with another fic with one of my beloved Moon Boys. So I hope so so much that this fic likes you, that enjoy your reading and thanks all the likes and reblogs, and welcome to my new followers!

XOXO Noe! 😘

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

It's just another friday

staring at herself in the bathroom mirror...

I watch her get ready in our room and I can't help but laugh. She hurries through her clothes for something to wear, but she still doesn't realize that to me, she always looks amazing in whatever she's wearing: Whether she's wearing teddy bear leggings, her work uniform, or those blue bunny pajamas she wears when she is on her period.

She is always beautiful to me.

I lean against the bathroom door frame as she walks past me blowing a kiss in the air and I carefully watch her movements as if it's something I want to learn.

And in fact, I want to learn.

I want to learn to have that delicacy that she has every time she caresses my hair when I come back from one of those nights that I want to forget, making me think only that she is in front of me and nothing else exists.

In conveying emotions like those worried eyes that I know very well suffer every time she sees us leave.

In the brightness they have when she see me enter our apartment crawling towards their side, in that horrible armchair where they wait for me awake every night, reading a book, listening to the radio with their headphones on or dozing, where I know that I have my safe place dropping to my knees in front of her with my head resting on her lap as she mumbles words I catch in breaths about a hot shower, microwaved food, and a "I'm glad you're here" that just makes me thank heaven, every second I breathe, for that moment when Steven decided to use his daily ration of courage to say that simple "Hello" to her at the bus stop on his way to work.

I want to capture a little of that softness with which she slips out of my arms as she smiles at me and indicates with a mischievous, teasing gleam the bathroom, where she is now putting on her makeup as if it were a work of art that she must not ruin in front of the mirror.

She frowns as she searches through the 10 or so lipsticks she has in her little blue bag and I get close enough to grab the red lipstick that's on our bedside table and hand it to her with a smile.

If there is something that I consider my weakness is to see her with that lipstick.

Damn, if she looks hot without any makeup, that lipstick is my downfall.

I even found myself searching the internet in the middle of the night while she slept how to buy the damn company or at least patent the color so it would only be made for her.

- Marc?

She avoids looking at me as she takes the lipstick from my hands because she knows what goes through my head when I see her wearing it.

She knows very well that the only thing my primitive instinct thinks about is not letting her out of these four walls and deep inside of me, in reality I only think about excluding her from a world that I feel can and will try to take her away from me.

- Umm? - I watch her turn as she swipes her lipstick in front of my face getting my attention.

- Are you okay? - I focus on her voice as I hear Steven complain that I don't answer her question and that I sure look like an idiot staring at her.

But I can't do anything else but look at her, look at her with the hope that her image will be engraved in my head and erase the vast majority of thoughts that don't let me rest at night, like the sight of my hands covered in blood every time that I come home and try to clean up so she doesn't notice it enough to freak out, or the fact that I'd like to tell her that it was a quiet night and that I only saved people without taking anyone's life, but we both know which is not so.

It is very difficult to have a quiet night with Khonshu at our backs.

- Marc? You worry me.

I shake my head without answering her questions as if it's enough for that sad and fleeting look to disappear from her eyes, but I am distracted by them, by those rosy cheeks that make me smile every time I remember how she blushes when I whisper things to her inappropriate to the ear when passing by her.

- I'm good, baby.

- Are you serious? - She turns as she leans the same way I do on the other side of the door and our lips are inches apart. I close my eyes losing myself in that aroma of strawberries that her lipstick gives off and the notes of that Arabic perfume that she loves so much. Those little details stick in my head every time I'm away from her. When I open them again, she looks at me curiously, with a hint of mistrust at my words and a sigh trapped between her lips.

I close the distance between us and give him a short kiss before my thoughts become responsible for my actions. As always, she blushes and shakes her head, accepting that I don't want to talk about whatever is on my mind.

That's my way of saying "Not today" and she silently denies my "seductive" way of ending or avoiding a conversation that may be uncomfortable and, for sure, painful for both of us.

She gives me my space and intrudes on it when I need it most and I can't bring myself to say it out loud.

She's my light at the end of my dark road.

It was from the first day I saw her myself, standing in that bookstore, looking at the window full of copies of different colors, themes and sizes with as much admiration as if they were candy that a child is dying to devour, looking for perhaps, the next reading that would invade her thoughts or that, perhaps, would take her away from this world.

And she is not even aware that she takes me away from the torments of my world.

- Will you go like this?

Her question brings me back to the here and now, and I can't help but sigh seeing her in that beautiful red dress she bought weeks ago at Layla's encouragement and only tried on once in front of Steven, who ended up cursing several times when he should have left. to work. I never agreed with him so much on anything.

I even heard Jake's annoyed mutterings in Spanish about "Trabajo del demonio" and suggesting we stay with her.

He was so right that it didn't bother me to tell him about it.

But Steven and his dream job was something that we were forbidden to screw up. Even if Steven wanted to do it.

- You look… Wow. You look so beautiful baby.

- Thanks, Spector - She smiles at me as she walks over to the mirror and takes the little moon charm I gave her for our first anniversary and holds it out for me to put on. As I did so I touch her neck and I hear her release a sigh that does nothing but affect my little self-control - You know I love you but you didn't make me dress like that for you to go with something so simple.

- If you want, you can go only with one of my t-shirts and you will be amazing. It doesn't bother me, even that would tell whoever looks that you're only mine.

- You and your possessiveness - she turns and takes my hand while she pulls me towards the closet and I let myself go as if I wanted to fulfill each of the desires that go through her head - That one I love so much.

- Don't give me ideas.

We both laugh and as soon as she turns around, I summon the Mr. Knight suit while asking Steven not to make a big deal out of it and lend it to me just for tonight.

I know she has a soft spot for that suit, and honestly, I grew to appreciate it over time.

- Is that good for you, baby?

- I won't tell you what to wear because practically what you wear looks good on you, but you should try wearing a white shirt… - Silence. A deep silence of those you feel when someone is speechless, amazed or distracted. I lean against one of the bedposts while the woman in my thoughts is looking at me like she's some kind of candy that she wants to devour. For a moment her eyes sparkle and she bites her lip in an unconscious act that wreaks havoc on my insides. She likes what she sees, but deep down I know she likes the idea of ​​me wearing it and not Steven - Oh...

That's the answer I expected.

It is always a very good sign leave her speechless. Therefore, the velvet box that I carry in my pocket will also leave her speechless.

- Marc….

Her breathing is just as agitated as mine, but I know that if I approach responding at my name made a plea coming out of her lips, there will be no dinner, no plans, or anything that this outing implies.

God, I love her so much that I forget the most primitive thought about myself.

- We have…?

- Yes baby. We have to go to that dinner - She shakes her head as she walks over and grabs both lapels of my vest until she pushes me against the nearest wall like she has all the strength in the universe. I give her a mischievous smile as I wrap my arms around her and pull her close enough so that there isn't the slightest distance between our bodies, which are connecting in the right parts. Fucking God. I hate to do the "Good Boy thing's" - Listen to me, today I want to show you off. I want every man on this fucking planet to know that you're with me. That you are mine, that I own your laughter as well as your moans. Let them know that only I am for you and that nothing, and no one, will take me away from you. You've heard?

- It's okay. But it surprises me since you usually don't want to go out once you get deep into these topics, you know what I mean.

I let out a laugh as I turn around listening to her screams as I corner her in the place where she was before and she sees me with the only expression I hope to imitate until the day I die: Love.

- Marc?

- huh?

- I love you.

- And I love you, baby - He puts his arms around my neck and hugs me as if we hadn't seen each other in a long time. And for a moment, I hold back the urge to cry.

"Thank you Steven for talking to her that day"

"I knew I had to do it, it was the right one for her and I couldn't let her go. Go and make sure she accepts our proposal, it's the most important thing now"

- Do you want to share with me what makes you smile?

I turn my attention back to her smiling and simply nod in her direction.

- You. And Steven too.

We both laugh as I pull away enough to pick up her small bag and extend my hand to her, which she takes without hesitation, making me feel like gravity doesn't affect me and I'm tied only to her.

- We go?

- Of course. Will you at least tell me where we're going?

- No, it's a surprise.

[0ssianic]

finished Rythym of War!! many rambly thoughts below

this was def Navani and Venli's book. immediately just before this book, i also read all of oathbringer, so not having the regular Dalinar povs felt like the homer-simpson-disappearing-into-a-bush meme.

I knew navani was going to become a bondsmith too! i knew it!! it was pretty nice that all the events in urithiriu resolved without their armies needing to come back and help. and kaladin finally said the fourth ideal!! it was a long time coming

even before the end of the book when odium and dalinar finalized the contract, i knew something had to go wrong because there's still 6 books in this series left.

it's still so funny to me that we get to see 2 very different ways an encounter with hoid at a perpendicularity can go (especially if your name starts with a K). option 1, a story and a meal. option 2, get your ass beat

the adolin and maya stuff was good. i figured maya would end up doing something (even if i wasn't sure what that something was) by the end of the trial. adolin was already able to summon her faster by the end of oathbringer, so i wonder if there will be more changes to how she behaves as a "dead" shardblade

having read most of the cosmere stuff already, it was cool to make all the connections to previous books and knowing (in general) how investiture & connection work.

vasher & hoid using breaths, Nightblood and vasher sucking the color out of things, hoid's smoke storytelling (it was in oathbringer too) -> Warbreaker

the ire and their tech and the seon (as soon as it was shown faces appeared, i knew it was a seon) -> Elantris

i'm pretty sure Sazed/Harmony was writing to hoid during part 2, kelsier and the ghostbloods -> Mistborn

i read yumi & the nightmare painter before row, but design showing up in both books

odium casually namedropping Cephandrius

other random thoughts:

i hadn't really thought about it before, but Wax's coinshot powers (the lines that he can see from him to the metal) sounds a lot like how dalinar was seeing the Connection between people

i liked that the radiants powers being partially taken away means they had to get more creative with what was left, like with how kaladin was forced to practice adhesion. its a little silly, but my favorite marvel movie is iron man 3, mostly for the scene where tony uses stuff he got from the hardware store for the final fight, because he's forced to rely on his ingenuity and creativity under limited resources

i wonder when tress happens in the overall timeline. i havent seen hoid using the dor, but that doesn't he mean he doesn't have it. yumi & painter seems to be after the way of kings series (or maybe the time skip?)

the obvious timeline connections i can think of (-> = 'before'):

elantris, warbreaker, the emperor's soul, 1st mistborn trilogy -> way of kings

way of kings -> yumi & painter (bc design is present in sp3)

2nd mistborn era -> tress (bc the kandra are free to move)

emperor's soul -> 2nd mistborn era (but probably not by much, it depends on how old shai is)

i'm not sure when the 2nd mistborn era and way of kings happen in relation to each other. hoid was on scadrial for mistborn, but i don't think he had design yet

[kiruuuuu]

I really hope you make more Recruitverse fics one day, because it's honestly a CRIME to leave it on "and that 'we', once again, doesn't Include Jojo." like KIRU PLEASE HOW COULD YOU DO THIS

WELL, @noivoom, you are absolutely correct that I cannot leave my five idiots there! Your ask(s) were actually a large reason why I wrote some more recruitverse a while ago and now I'm finally getting around to posting it 😊 I hope you enjoy it 💝

It's from Shay's POV and also part of my ongoing advent calendar - this is day 5 ❄ (Rating T, chaos as usual with some emotional hurt, ~7.3k words)

.

The message comes out of absolutely nowhere.

Well, kind of. They have been exchanging texts all day, so receiving another one is hardly out of the ordinary, but it’s the content that catches Shay unaware: btw my flatmates are both gone tonite wanna come over?

And oh boy, does he ever. There’s no need for a saucy wink or an aubergine emoji, the intention is a flashing neon sign Shay plans to heed. Admittedly, Jojo’s coaching sensitised him to the topic and the simple rhyme of ‘home alone, she wants to bone’ stuck in his head so well he found himself scribbling it down in his notes absent-mindedly, earning him a stern talking-to by Thatcher of all people (and that’s a conversation he never wants to have again, ta very much), but all this doesn’t matter because it’s finally going to happen. They’re gonna do it. He’s going to get with a girl he really likes.

“I can’t believe it”, Valenti speaks up from the other corner of the locker room. Shay’s mind is so filled with everything Brittany-related that he instantly assumes everyone must be sharing his excitement and blurts out a thrilled: “I know, isn’t it amazing?!”

Three aghast faces turn in his direction, while Gian’s eyes are glued to the floor. They don’t look like they’re talking about Brit at all, oddly enough.

“Shay, shut up”, hisses Jojo – which, fine, he’s been holding a grudge over something Shay must’ve done a while ago as he genuinely can’t remember what it is, so his dismissive attitude comes as no surprise, but Ivan merely shaking his head in disapproval clues him in. Something bad has happened.

Hopefully not so bad that it cockblocks him. He quickly taps an enthusiastic reply before joining the others with an appropriately grim expression. “Can we do anything about it?”, he wants to know, because he’s first and foremost interested in a solution. A solution means he can leave early, and leaving early means he’ll get to see Brit sooner, and seeing her sooner means -

“You don’t know what is problem”, Ivan states, and of course he’s right.

The only one who takes pity on him is Gian, even paler than usual: “Through a series of unfortunate events, Jagriwo came into possession of my notebook.”

“Who?”

“You’ve really lived under a fucking rock this past month, haven’t you”, Jojo snipes at him again with more vitriol than Shay is used to, “I’ve been barred from saying ‘Jacob Griffin-Worthington’ all the time, so we’re calling him Jagriwo now. A name just as unintelligible as the asshole himself.”

“Ah, alright”, Shay nods, since it makes perfect sense, and only then does it hit him with the full force of a lorry: their self-declared nemesis somehow stole the very book holding all of Gian’s most intimate thoughts – or so Shay assumes. He’s never actually read a single line from it as he supposes it’s like a diary, personal and private. Valenti once reported accidentally skimming over a page and not understanding a thing, so it might be written in code, who knows. In any case, this is bad news. “This is bad news”, he states for everyone else’s benefit.

“We’re past the stage of shock and impotent rage already”, Valenti waves him aside, “it’s time for a plan. How do we get it back? Ideally before the prick reads it?”

“It is possible he remains unaware of the confused bags”, Gian replies with vague hope, “he and I carry the same make. Has he not yet unpacked his, we might -”

Just then, an eerie sing-song reaches their ears in the distance, uttered by an uncomfortably familiar voice: “Hey mo-rons! Come look what I ha-ave!”

They grimace in unison. There’s little better at uniting them than a common enemy, and the annoying wanker facilitates it immensely. “Guess that answers the question”, Valenti speaks what they all think. “Let’s go see what he wants.”

.

“Aren’t you guys a sight for sore eyes, thank you for turning up so obediently”, Jacob Griffin-Worthington drawls in an overdone posh accent, probably thinking it makes him sound cool. Their two groups are opposite each other in the already cramped changing room now, Jacob’s posse having joined them after Jojo willingly communicated their location – there’s four other henchpeople flanking Jacob left and right, two of which Shay knows a little. He wonders whether Jacob chose to make four friends in total to match them, just in case they’d ever have a dramatic one-on-one fight involving personal vendettas and experts in the same field clashing against each other.

“As I understand, I have a little something you would like back”, their fellow recruit continues and waves the familiar object in front of him, the small leather-bound book they’ve all seen a million times whenever Gian jotted down random thoughts or the events of the day or possibly tomorrow’s weather. It remains a mystery to Shay. “And I’m very interested in hearing what you’re willing to offer me in return.”

“So you’re blackmailing us”, Valenti summarises succinctly.

“Let’s not put it in those terms, this is merely a friendly … exchange, I would say, after all -”

“Are you doing this because you’re jealous that we’re actual friends?”, Shay blurts out and experiences a satisfying touch of vindication when their collective nemesis falters.

“Uh, no, I’m just -” And before he can regain his composure, Ivan Ivanovic has stepped forward and snatched the notebook out of his hand.

The ten of them stare at each other for a long moment. Ivan hands the book to Gian, who immediately shoves it into his pocket. Jojo performs a very rude gesture with both hands, reciprocating Shay’s grin once he notices it.

“Don’t think I didn’t take any photos!”, Jacob threatens with the pathos of a small child.

“Break his phone, too, Ivanko.”

“I do not like to destroy private property.”

“Oh, since when do you Reds care about that?”

Jagriwo’s comment earns him a dark look. “I do not extend same courtesy to noses.”

“What do you even want?”, Gian tries to move the conversation along. “What do we possess that you desire?”

This time, the others shift and exchange quick glances, the lone girl speaking up in Jacob’s stead: “You got into South Carolina. We want it.”

Oh.

Yeah, fair enough, Shay gets it – there’s a limited amount of spaces for the special training course in SC and Thatcher asked them to apply for it in groups, which explains why Jacob suddenly surrounded himself with these cronies to form a team of five. Until just now, they didn’t even know their nemesis wasn’t selected. No wonder his mood is this rotten. “You can have it, honestly”, Shay replies easily, shrugging; he’s not keen on the camp anyway, it sounds like way too much work.

Instantly, Valenti fixes him with a disbelieving stare. “No he can’t!”

“Didn’t you say it was a kindergarten trip for dummies who haven’t passed Rainbow boot camp yet?”

“But that was before I knew they didn’t get in!”

“I’ll gladly give up our spot”, Jojo agrees. “If they wanna crawl around in the mud for three weeks, let them.”

“They don’t even deserve it. If they weren’t chosen, they shouldn’t go.”

“Excuse me?!”, Jagriwo interjects, incensed, “You guys have been licking Thatcher’s and Sledge’s boots, which is the only reason you got accepted and we didn’t!”

“Allow me to correct”, Gian joins in as well now, “we lost a wager and involuntarily tended to their every need as a result. It was far from an attempt to ingratiate ourselves.”

“We betted that Valenti could go week without arguing during training”, Ivan adds with a side glance towards the very same.

“Hey, I tried to let it go, but that simply wasn’t how boules is played, you don’t try to hit your opponent in the head with -”

“This is why we lost bet”, Ivan interrupts the angry Frenchman, indicating him in his entirety. Which only fuels his anger.

“You know, this isn’t the time, but let me educate you on the sports of my people. It’s a long-standing tradition and I’ve played it with my sisters on every single one of our -”

“Just take our spot and we’re even”, Jojo addresses the slightly lost-looking recruits opposite them and Shay is all for it – the faster they get this resolved, the earlier he can ditch everyone.

“They don’t deserve it!”

“Do we not?” Jacob is genuinely miffed now. “How about a competition, huh? We’ll figure out which group is better at their jobs, and the winner gets to go to SC. If you win, I’ll delete the photos. If we win, we’ll get to do what we want with Giovanni’s notebook. And trust me, I’ve found things in there some of you would prefer to remain secret.”

Oh no. He hit Valenti right in the competitiveness, there’s no way he’ll let this go. They exchange a few glances, the upset Frenchman predictably determined, Ivan curious and Gian fatalistic. That’s two in favour already, and Jojo suddenly seems to have changed his mind and doesn’t look willing to concede anything anymore either. Odd. Normally, Shay would be on his side and ready to fight these tossers in a heartbeat, but today…

“I’m kinda busy”, he mutters apologetically, sparking an outraged expression on at least two of his friends’ faces.

“This is our chance to outdo these self-important wankers!”, Valenti hisses.

“You know we can still hear you, right?”

“Fine. Let’s do competition”, Ivan agrees on their behalf and with that, their fate is sealed.

.

“This is all my fault”, Gian sighs into their midst as they’re huddled together for warmth next to the running track. Winter is in full swing and while they’re not blessed with any more snow, the icy temperatures make for a poor substitute.

“Doesn’t matter, we need to talk strategy now”, Valenti shoots back. “What do we know about them?”

They’ve decided on five disciplines embodying skills all operators are expected to excel in, though Jacob invented a few extra rules: the teams can choose each other’s champion and nobody can be picked twice. Shay very much suspects that each team is secretly relieved about that last rule as they both have a weakest link.

… though he’s not entirely sure which one is theirs. Ivan Ivanovic surpasses them in nearly everything, Valenti comes very very close, Jojo is a skilled shooter, fighter and amazing with electronics, and Gian is just a jack of all trades, really. So Shay can’t really pick who’s worst.

“I don’t even know who the fuck they are.” Jojo is eyeing their opponents critically. “I know Jagriwo, but the rest?”

“The thin bloke with the full beard is Whip”, Shay offers his limited knowledge. “We got accepted at the same time and he’s alright unless you’re up against him, then he’s scary. I wouldn’t go with him for this.”

“How about the Asian? She is tiny”, Ivan suggests to which Gian shakes his head emphatically.

“I have had the misfortune of sparring with her in the past and though her physique is not the most imposing, she makes up for it in ferocity. I would only wish her on my worst enemy.”

“Jagriwo is a beast and that one dude is way too tall”, Valenti decides, “so it’ll have to be the Spanish guy. What’s his name again?”

“Maradona.” Since Shay has loosely hung out with most of the other recruits, he remembers some names here and there. “He’s Spanish, called Diego and a football fanatic, they had to give him that nickname.”

“Maradona it is then.” They shrug, unsure of what to expect, and turn to their adversaries to announce their choice.

“Your funeral”, Jacob Griffin-Worthington grins. “We’ll nominate Rogers.”

“Looks like they haven’t seen me fight”, Shay comments as Gian sighs and prepares to actually throw hands for his diary – Shay fancies himself the worst hand-to-hand combatant in all of the SAS and wears that title with pride. It’s not easy to stand out in their organisation.

“Darling, everyone has seen you fight. Mostly because you make the weirdest noises when trying to punch someone, so you draw a lot of attention.”

Jojo and he exchange a quick smile that warms his heart despite the biting air invading their lungs. The whole situation has an absurd aura, he’s pretty sure Jagriwo cares about this way too much and will probably harp on about their defeat forever (in case they lose, which doesn’t seem that unlikely), but for the first time in months, if not years, Shay is too disconnected from their shenanigans to bring himself to get into it. His thoughts are with Brit as are his priorities, and so he hopes all this will be over soon.

That said, Gian and his opponent have only just entered the ring they drew in the half-frozen mud, getting into position. The first challenge is about strength as much as it is about technique: leave the ring or fall to the ground, you’re out. A clever grip could mean victory just like a hard shove would, and the champions are of similar build and height, granting no obvious advantage. Gian blocks the kick aimed at his thigh and is, in turn, hindered himself before the two circle each other, cheered on by their respective teams. When next they lock arms, Shay realises this could take a while.

“Did you forget to get rid of your venomous snake?”, Shay asks when he spots Dante’s head poking out of Gian’s sleeve, likely wondering what the fuss is about and being confronted with a close-up of Maradona’s face.

The Spaniard no doubt catches sight of the snake and lets out an unmanly shriek followed by a defensive jump backwards – right outside the assigned ring.

Total silence for a few seconds. Nobody seems sure how to react, Jagriwo’s expression is utterly dumbfounded and his team isn’t faring any better.

“Let’s get a move on then, lads.” And before anyone can even think about complaining, Shay turns and strides away. He’s got places to be.

.

“Alright. The second challenge is all about technology. We may use it every day, but do you actually understand the devices you’re using?” Jacob Griffin-Worthington is probably going for a tension-building game show host of some sort though it’s obvious he’s shaken up by Gian’s near-instant victory half an hour ago. His group is falling apart, the only woman not even listening to him anymore and instead texting incessantly, Maradona and Whip still arguing quietly in the background – only the Swiss recruit whose name still eludes Shay is reticent as always, staring them down with a scowl surpassing even Valenti’s on a bad day.

“Just tell us what to do”, sighs the very same, visibly done with Jagriwo’s theatrics.

“No time for a little pizazz, hm?”

“Not when you’re basically blackmailing us into this, no.”

“Whatever.” Like a professional bully, the Englishman ignores the accusations and sets a laptop onto the table between them. They’ve relocated to the canteen, accepting the risk of getting spotted – not that they’re doing anything illicit, but if they ran across Thatcher he’d surely find a way of making them do work regardless of what it is they’re currently up to. “This belongs to Blitz. Don’t ask how I got it, I have my ways.” He wiggles his eyebrows and absolutely nobody is impressed. Everyone knows Blitz forgets his stuff everywhere all the time. “Whoever is chosen as champion has to crack the password and access the laptop under Blitz’ own account.”

“Why would we need to know how to do that?”, Valenti complains, not noticing how Jagriwo’s brows rise at the indignation in his voice.

“Guess we’ve already found our champion.”

Shay is just happy he doesn’t have to do this or else he’d probably end up disappointing Jojo even more. There’s something going on with him, their interactions don’t come as natural as they used to and Shay is convinced it’s his own fault. Because he can’t imagine Jojo doing anything wrong.

“Who should we elect?”, Gian mutters after they’ve withdrawn into their private circle. He’s livelier now, owed most likely to the fact that he won his round. “Jagriwo himself seems too knowledgeable and besides, I presume his real weaknesses lie elsewhere. I can only assume Whip acquired his soubriquet from the idiom ‘sharp as a whip’, therefore I would rule him out also.”

“How about woman now? She might be physically gifted, but electronics?”

As if on cue, they all turn around to stare at the Asian-American who looks thoroughly done with the incessantly whining and gesticulating Maradona. She seemed to have made the mistake of advising him to drop the subject, which he took personally and is now chewing her ear off while she stares at her phone screen even more pointedly. When Whip nudges her, she glances up, realises her opponents are looking at her, and the slight panic in her expression gives her away.

“I’m in favour”, Jojo mutters. “If only to get her away from that annoying blabbermouth. Nobody deserves that.”

“We’re choosing her”, Valenti announces, to which the short woman grimaces. “Okay, so how do we do this?”

“You each get increments of half an hour during which you can do whatever you want with the laptop. If you don’t manage to get into it, it’ll be passed over to the other person. Only your time counts: whoever does it fastest by their own time wins.”

“Are we allowed to talk?”, Jojo wants to know innocently.

“Sure, whatever. You can go first if you want.”

Shay’s best friend nods at Valenti. “Go for it. I’ll talk you through it.” And before Jacob Griffin-Worthington can object, Jojo has already pulled up the instructions on his phone and started guiding Valenti on what to do.

Well. Looks like they have it covered. Gian and Ivanko seem intent on listening and learning, but Shay has no mental capacity for a proper lecture today, so he wanders a little until Whip joins him and the two of them catch up on what’s been happening in their lives recently. Idly, they watch as Maradona throws another tantrum about how what Jojo is doing is cheating while Jagriwo tries unsuccessfully to argue with Ivan Ivanovic that Maradona is right (and he might as well have started a discussion with a brick wall, there’s no reasoning with the Russian if he does not want to be reasoned with).

Eventually, the opposing champion takes a seat next to Shay and eyes him curiously. “What’s your name again?”

“I’m Shay, howya. What’s yours?”

“Anna.” She looks up briefly to frown in the direction of the very loud, very oblivious group of fellow recruits. “This whole thing is stupid, isn’t it.”

“Yep.” Shay catches a glimpse of the brightly-coloured screen in her hands and adds: “Oh, I have that game. Wanna play a round together?”

“Yeah, alright. Whip, wanna join?”

And so the three of them spend about twenty-six minutes peacefully murdering waves of zombies while Valenti nearly starts crying from the pressure. Shay would feel bad for him, but really, it’s his own fault. Ultimately.

“Think it’s my turn”, Anna sighs when her leader barks her name in disbelief, immediately berating her when she joins their bubble again about ‘consorting with the enemy’ and ‘failing to prepare’ as well as ‘sabotaging the only people who care about her’ or something similarly ludicrous, to which she simply replies: “Shut up. I got this.” And with that, she marches right out of the canteen. Leaving behind a dumbstruck Jagriwo, a still expressionless Swiss bloke and a furious Spaniard.

“She’s nice”, Shay comments, to which Whip nods.

“Yeah. No idea why she hangs around with us.”

Jojo and Valenti are still celebrating when Shay joins up with them again, both of them looking like they just ran a marathon. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever done”, Valenti beams, “and I never wanna do it again. But Shay, did you see, I was like a hacker in the films, all focused and cool and -”

“Is she… coming back?”, Gian wonders quietly as Valenti continues bubbling over in excitement.

About five minutes later, Anna does indeed come back. She makes a beeline for the laptop, types something in, presses enter and presents a now unlocked laptop to everyone.

Suddenly, Valenti and Jojo look like they’re going to lose their minds.

“I asked Jäger”, she shrugs. “Told him Blitz forgot his password again and sent me to get it. No lie, the IT security in here stinks.”

For a moment, it seems like Jacob Griffin-Worthington is about to propose to her, until Ivanko decides to poke the bear again and asks: “Is that cheating?”

Maradona bitches the entire way to the shooting range and Shay admires him for his lung capacity.

.

The following challenge passes by quickly and rather uneventfully: sharpshooting is the required skill, so Shay advises them to pick Whip for this as he knows the Welshman is notoriously bad at it. Their adversaries choose Jojo, not that it matters much as the only one of their group who’s miles ahead would be Valenti while the rest is somewhere close in skill. And though Jojo wins, the two of them end up almost evenly matched, to Shay’s surprise. It might have something to do with the few sentences Jagriwo mutters at Jojo in a voice so low nobody else hears, but when Shay asks about it afterwards, his best friend assures him that it had nothing to do with his bad performance – he claims he was still exhausted from the mental exercise during the previous challenge.

Odd yet again, but Shay doesn’t pry. He does notice Jojo’s hands shaking, however, which happens when he’s under a lot of emotional stress. He wishes he knew what was going on so he could help in any way. The only thing he can do is compliment Jojo’s hair to which the German looks at him like he just sprouted an additional head.

Well. He tried.

.

As soon as it’s obvious where they’re headed, Valenti falls back and surrounds himself with his own group. “Obstacle course”, he speaks what they’re all thinking. “There’s no doubt they’ll pick you, Shay, they have no choice, Ivan holds the record among us recruits. That means if we win this next one, it’s three out of five for us – it’ll be over. Now, I happen to know that Jagriwo’s best time is worse than yours, Shay, so we have a real shot at ending it right here, right now.”

“Of course you would know everybody’s times”, Ivanko comments with a grin, letting out an uncharacteristic chuckle when Valenti jabs him in the side with an elbow. “Do not worry. Even if you do not win, Shay, I will.”

Despite his assurance, Valenti’s words resonate with Shay: he could actually put an end to this madness. That means visiting Brittany sooner, which means -

“Don’t listen to him, darling, you got this. Make me proud.” Jojo’s voice is strained and still he manages a slight smile which is even more motivation. Yeah, Shay will do his best. He’ll win this round and therefore the whole silly game, he’ll get to do the do with his girlfriend, and he’ll make his best friend proud. A win-win-win situation, his favourite.

It’s much too fast from there: as expected, Shay is chosen while they pick Jacob in turn, the two of them get changed and warm up and suddenly, they’re next to each other at the starting line, Shay’s heart pounding in his chest as he considers the consequences of failing. Despite not caring much about the overall contest, now it’s his own skills on the line which doesn’t leave him cold; he relishes competition, or else he never would’ve made it here. A healthy nervousness has taken hold of him, a heightened state of mind, he’s alert and keenly aware of his entire body the way he is when on a mission.

He’s ready.

“If you lose, I’ll tell you a secret”, Jacob Griffin-Worthington says out of the corner of his mouth, making Shay frown in confusion.

“I don’t wanna know any of your secrets”, he responds, and then someone yells GO and his body moves of its own accord, springing into action with practised ease. He can’t count the times he’s run this course, to various degrees of success: when he was brand new and still bouncing between groups in Rainbow, he remembers how daunting he found this exercise, shivering even at the mention of it. It’s brutal, a demanding mix of precision and pure speed, horizontal and vertical movement, arm- and legwork. Most of his muscles used to burn for days after an intensive training unit here, and now he could probably do it in his sleep.

He’s off to a head start, his long legs a big advantage on the early sprints as well as shorter jumps, but as soon as climbing starts being involved, Jagriwo makes up ground. Shay concentrates on his breathing, the placement of hands and feet, the icy air in his lungs. Vaguely, he can hear his teammates cheering him on, and though he pays next to no attention to it, he somehow notices Jojo’s voice missing in the chorus. Odd. But Shay doesn’t have the luxury of worrying about it.

By the half-point, he’s still ahead and plans to stay there, Jacob not too far behind but audibly struggling where Shay has good reserves to fall back on. The ground is an active obstacle, an unpredictable mixture of mud and frozen bits, making Shay regret a few times not cushioning a fall more. Regardless, he’s doing great and getting closer to the goal by the second, keeping his panting to a minimum, instead opting for a steady pace, and then he slips on an ice patch.

It’s a mean one, he can tell instantly, the moment his foot just whooshes out from under him instead of providing support he knows he’s well and truly fucked. He manages an undignified squawk somewhere on the way down and instinctively brings his arms up, but even they can’t stop his head from smacking right onto the frozen soil. The loss of balance feels like a drop out of a fourth floor window, only much faster, and so he’s much too disoriented to get up and try to keep running, instead opting to blearily stare at crystal-covered blades of grass right next to his nose and contemplate existence.

Looks like he won’t make Jojo proud after all. Especially not with this splitting headache.

There’s cheering going on somewhere, exacerbating the pounding in his temples, and he understands right away that Jagriwo made it, that he was beaten. Someone pats his back with more force than necessary.

“Can you get up?”

He blinks up at two Ivans and stretches out his hand, getting pulled up with next to no input from himself and swaying unsteadily while holding on to the Russian. “My head hurts”, he mumbles, trying to correct his blurry vision. “I’m sorry. I didn’t make it.”

“You were at record pace, too. You had chance to beat my time.” Ivan Ivanovic inspects him for a moment, eventually deciding that he’s fine, so Shay stops worrying. If he’d been bleeding badly or anything like it, Ivanko would tell him.

It’s only then that he realises Ivan is the only one who came to his aid: Jojo, Gian and Valenti seem to be talking insistently among each other, with Jojo looking pale and shaking his head a lot. This isn’t right. “Ivanko, what’s going on with Jojo?”

A small pause. The Russian pats his back again. “Better get changed. You will catch cold.”

Shay doesn’t think thicker clothes will help with the vague frost settling in his insides. He doesn’t know what’s wrong. He’s not sure he wants to.

.

Though it’s getting late, the sun nonetheless shines down on their stupid little contest. By now, most of them are grumpy for various reasons, several pairs have formed and emit unintelligible grumbling as they complain about this or that, and despite Jacob Griffin-Worthington’s steadfast refusal to admit this whole thing was pretty pointless, even he seems to be losing the spring in his step. Regardless, he trudges on, leading them to the canal for some reason.

“Last challenge”, he proclaims loudly, ignoring a few passers-by giving them odd looks. “This is the one who decides the winner! It’s as gruelling as it is straightforward: submerge yourself up to your neck in the icy water. The one who stays in there the longest wins.”

Suddenly, Shay is extremely glad he was chosen for the obstacle course, even if he doesn’t appreciate the pulsing headache. Below them, the river seems deceptively pleasant, the water calm and clear – but it couldn’t be any warmer than just above 0°C. This is a daunting task for pretty much everyone.

“We don’t really have a choice who to pick”, Valenti shrugs, equally eager to be done as most of them are. “Go for it, Swiss dude.”

“My name is Köbi”, comes a quiet reply from the taciturn recruit, prompting Jojo of all people to reply: “Yeah well nobody can pronounce that.”

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Jagriwo has noticed Ivan Ivanovic unzipping his jacket in preparation of the challenge. “It’s not your turn, mate, you’ve already gone. We choose – wait, who do we choose?”

His group exchanges confused glances until Whip speaks up: “He’s the only one left.”

Their leader turns away from their adversaries to hiss a very audible: “But then we lose. Ivan can’t be allowed to do this.”

“Try and stop me.” Ivanko keeps piling clothes onto a helpless Valenti as if all of this was just another Tuesday, unlacing his boots with practised ease.

It is now that Jagriwo seems to realise what everyone else has understood before they walked all the way to the river: he’s lost. With Ivan left as their last champion, there’s nothing he could throw his way that would tip the scales in his favour. Valenti’s triumphant grin from behind Ivanko’s folded-up trousers conveys as much.

“I, uh, wasn’t finished explaining the rules of this challenge”, he tries to delay the inevitable, floundering, “you also have to, um -”

“Let us go in.” Ivanko, clad only in his underwear, nods in the direction of the ladder leading from the promenade right into the water. Köbi seems hesitant but probably assumes Jagriwo’s wrath would be immeasurable if he chickened out now, so he quickly undresses as well and immediately starts shivering. This doesn’t bode well for him. Ivan Ivanovic even goes in first, opting to quickly glide into the icy river instead of dipping his toes, followed by his Swiss opponent.

Who curses heartily in what Shay can only assume to be a thick accent as soon as he touches the surface, and the cursing quickly morphs into barely-suppressed wails and moans. He sounds like he’ll start crying every second now.

Jacob Griffin-Worthington is livid.

“You don’t deserve this win!”, he rages. “You’re just a bunch of arse-kissing wankers who scrape by doing the absolute minimum.”

“What does that make you then?”, Jojo responds, words dripping with vitriol. “You lost to us. You don’t even belong in Rainbow.”

“And you do? I don’t know about the others, but I know how you got in. Did some favours to get your résumé looked at, didn’t you?”

Fucking hell. Shay frowns, notices his expression mirrored on both Whip’s and Anna’s faces (though he takes note of their silence), and asks: “Why are you such a sore loser?”

Gian’s muttered ‘this is hardly productive’ gets lost in Jacob Griffin-Worthington’s following fury. “You arseholes are really pissing me off! The only reason you won this is because you have one, one semi-competent fucker among you who keeps you afloat, the rest of you are worthless. You wanna know what your so-called friend wrote in his diary? You wanna hear some excerpts? Because I’ve got a small collection of quotes here, just stumbled over these, they’re everywhere.”

“Not really”, Valenti objects. “If he’d wanted us to hear them, he would’ve told us.”

Undeterred, Jagriwo pulls out his phone and begins reading off the screen. “Valenti, he calls you petty, ‘hindered by delusions of grandeur’, ‘desperate to belong’ – mate, he thinks you’re insufferable, that’s what I’m getting out of this.”

The author of the quotes looks pained, uncomfortable, avoiding their gazes. Shay has never seen Gian this ashamed, their gentle, thoughtful, caring Gian this distressed. He opens his mouth, likely to address the accusation, possibly explain himself, but Valenti is faster: “Well he’d be correct, wouldn’t he?”

Their nemesis blanks for a second. “Pardon?”

“I mean, I am those things. He’s not wrong. But I’d bet my life that’s not all he said about me. Right? You’re just picking things out of context and trying to upset us, it’s not gonna work.”

But instead of being defeated yet again, Jagriwo’s eyes move to a new target. And Shay suddenly pieces it all together.

Everything falls into place: their weird reaction when he implied that Gian’s diary being stolen wasn’t that big of a deal – everyone else seemed to know something he didn’t yet nobody clued him in. He wasn’t supposed to know, he realises belatedly. They all knew something he didn’t, which also explains why Jojo has been so withdrawn lately, why he kept talking with the others instead of Shay, why he suddenly wanted to win this competition so badly.

Jojo has some sort of secret involving Shay and absolutely everybody knows except for Shay himself. He assumes this is what Jacob meant when he offered to let him in on a secret at the beginning of the obstacle course. Gian had written about this hidden fact in his little book and Jagriwo is about to reveal it.

But what could it be? The only explanation Shay can fathom is him doing something unspeakable to Jojo, something unforgivable, something that would taint their friendship forever if he were aware of it. If he’d done something like that to Jojo, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself, that much is true, he’d always feel like he’d owe him – and this, possibly, is the scenario they’ve worked to hard to avoid. Because it’d hang over the two of them like a sword of Damocles, no doubt.

And now that Shay knows this… is he ready to hear the truth?

“Don’t”, mutters Jojo, his voice a warning. His eyes are locked with Jagriwo’s.

“Or what?” He really savours the moment, ignoring all of Jojo’s body language (and he looks like a cornered animal, wild, hopeless) as he turns to Shay with a wide, shark-like smile. It feels like everyone’s holding their breath. Then he simply says: “Did you know your best friend wants to fuck you?”

The very first thought that enters Shay’s mind is one he remains convinced of for a solid second: that can’t be it. He believes it steadfastly until he turns his head and catches sight of the pure, unbridled horror on Jojo’s face, shame even more pronounced than on Gian’s a few moments earlier. No words are necessary, his expression shouts it louder than Jacob could – it’s true. It has to be, or else why would Jojo look like this, but… why is that such a big deal?

Jacob Griffin-Worthington is not satisfied yet. “He’s actually been in love with you for a while.”

Oh. Okay, well, that’s slightly different, yet Shay experiences nothing but all-encompassing relief: he didn’t do anything to Jojo. They’re still good. They can keep being friends, provided Jojo wants to, and, uh, well, this might be a problem, he realises much too late. Maybe Jojo doesn’t want to. Maybe he wants some space. And Shay has a girlfriend, he almost forgot about her, that’s complicating things even further, but -

All of a sudden, he notices everyone is staring at him. Everyone but the one who counts. “Right”, he says, still trying to process the consequences of this revelation, and then Jojo turns on his heel and walks away.

Gian is the one who stops him from following immediately, a steady hand on his arm and a slight shake of the head keeping him in place. “Allow him time to compose.”

Next to them, Valenti simply drops Ivanko’s clothes onto the promenade and tries to punch Jagriwo in the face, yet the lad saw it coming and blocked, and while a very one-sided fight breaks out (because of course, the others jump in to help Jacob) Shay only has eyes for the lone figure wandering by the canal, back turned and hands repeatedly coming up to probably wipe tears away, and all of this is wrong.

Being friends with Jojo has never been easy, he’d never call it an easy friendship like he would with someone like Whip maybe – it was never two mates hanging out, it was something more, and that something required effort. Shay had worked for Jojo’s friendship and still does his best to maintain it, he learnt how to apologise, how to compromise, how to listen. Jojo allowed him to grow by pointing out areas in which to improve, managed to do so without putting him on the spot and by taking him seriously. In return, he’d provided undying loyalty, an open ear with no judgement.

This isn’t something from which either of them can walk away. They need to work this out. And the longer his eyes are glued to the man he’s so incredibly lucky to know, the man walking much too close to the edge of the promenade, the one suddenly slipping on an icy patch and -

Shay’s fuck comes almost simultaneously to the large splash. He starts sprinting without wasting a single thought on it, clawing off his jacket mid-run, tossing his phone on it, dropping his shirt together with his wallet and keys, and next go the shoes (bloody hell the ground is frigid) – he doesn’t bother with the socks but the trousers need to go, and then he dives into what turns out to be much, much colder water than he’d anticipated.

He manages to keep his disbelieving gasp in until he’s breached the surface again, blinking against the cool air and trying to keep his body from locking up due to the shock. Next to him, Jojo lets out a litany of curses, half of which directed at him.

“- the fuck are you doing, you moron, there’s no fucking ladder, what did you think you’re gonna do?!”

Huh. The closest ladder is indeed a bit away and he’s already losing all feeling in his limbs. “I’m saving you”, he blurts out, stupidly, to which his best friend lets out an unamused-sounding laugh. Jesus fuck it’s cold, his feet are freezing and he’s having trouble staying above water.

“This”, Jojo pants, lips blue and eyes red, shivering just as violently as Shay is himself, “might be one of the dumbest things you’ve ever done, Shay, what did you think was going to happen? You give me a lift so I can climb the two metres back up?”

“We should probably move, we can’t get out here.”

“Oh really? I can’t swim, I can barely keep myself up, so what do you reckon -”

He’s interrupted by yet another splash next to them, icy water washing over them. The reproachful face appearing belongs to none other than Ivan Ivanovic, and Shay has never been gladder to see the Russian. “Hold on to me”, he tells them and they oblige without a single word of protest as he starts swimming to the nearest ladder, dragging two dead weights with him.

.

~*~

.

It’s only fitting that the day ends with them in front of Sledge’s office, as so many days prior. Shay, wrapped in a thick blanket and trying to will the frost out of his bones, listens to the muffled bollocking going on inside, and wonders whether they’ll get their share after the others are done. Köbi, Jojo and he were sent to Doc first while the rest of their groups had to explain to their superior what they’ve been up to all day, and now they don’t want to interrupt anything, so they’ve sat down on the bench outside. Except for Köbi, the winner of the last challenge, who was checked in with mild frostbite. There’s no doubt Ivanko would’ve won, but he came to Jojo’s and Shay’s rescue, opting to climb out and lose the challenge rather than wasting valuable seconds by swimming towards them instead of running.

So not only did Shay mess up his own contribution to the competition, he made them lose it all.

He barely dares to ask. “Jojo?”

“Hm?” His best friend has avoided any eye contact since their brief stint in the river, having chosen to treat Shay with nothing but silence. Now that they’re alone and perched next to each other, he seems more willing to exchange words though.

“I’m sorry we lost because of me. Did you actually want to win?”

This earns him an almost disgusted expression. “Of course not. Any minute I spend in Jagriwo’s presence is fucking wasted, he can fuck a cactus for all I care. His stupid little ego trip doesn’t matter.”

Oh. So he just really didn’t want Shay to find out. Find out… that he’s in love with him. The sentiment leaves him slightly giddy, as if someone Shay liked a lot told him that they like Shay back, only he can’t discern whether he feels flattered or confused or something else entirely. It’s a fluttery thing, similar to the beginning when he was flirting with Brittany (or trying to, at least) and couldn’t think about anything else.

Jojo fancies him. It’s… nice. It feels nice, knowing Jojo finds him attractive. That he likes him so much that he wants them to be more than friends.

And Shay -

He looks at Jojo who reminds him of a drowned rat, the usually styled hair wet and sticking to his skull, complexion blotchy, the corners of his mouth turned downwards. Their shoulders are touching. Shay just can’t imagine a life without him.

“I’ll break up with Brittany”, he hears himself speak before the words have fully formed in his mind – as so often he does.

Jojo’s brows draw together. “What?”

“I can break up with her. It’s okay. Then we can -”

“Shay, what in the world are you saying?”

“I like you too.” Instantly, he’s self-conscious, scratching the back of his head, trying his hardest not to backpedal. “That’s… what I’m saying. I like you, Jojo. I’d rather be together with you.”

His best friend is staring at him, mouth open, eyes wide. “You’d just – you’d drop her. Right away. Right now.”

“Yeah. If you want.” Shay nods. He’s already cancelled for the evening, it’d be simple to end their relationship as well.

For a few heartbeats, Jojo doesn’t seem to know how to react and what he eventually does isn’t something Shay would’ve expected. He gets up, blanket still wrapped around him, and tells Shay: “Just don’t talk to me. Don’t.”

And once again, he leaves. Leaves Shay behind on the bench outside of Sledge’s office, wondering whether he’s done something wrong this time.

It’s not even a relief when Sledge shoos him away later instead of admonishing him, because Valenti won’t look at him and Gian carries himself like a close relative just died. Even Ivan Ivanovic just motions for him to walk.

Of everyone filing out of Sledge’s office, it’s only Anna who throws him a sympathetic glance.

[furrbbyx]

Monster March d.7: rut-struck

A 24 yr old werewolf is suddenly stuck by their first breeding urge but it's in the middle of the library on campus late at night. POV of the werewolf. The werewolf sweats and frets over what to do to relieve the strongest of their feelings until they can get back to the pack. Their parents are going to be so proud. Thinking no one is in the graduate study section this late at night he rushes up to the secluded level and begins to relieve themselves in the weak moonlight behind the stacks. The moonlight is weak but still helps them shift slightly because they aren't in a lot of control since they're being controlled by base biological functions. A curious monster friendly human catches them with their pants down. Sex scene in a library.

She offers to to help with their rut cycle, by inviting them to their home for the next week until they calm down.

MC: Bayani "Ray" POV

Love interest: Pam, or Jackie, or Shay idk

Initially I tried to keep it gender neutral but I guess I succumbed. This was fun but it was kind of regular, that's how I feel about all werewolf stories. So I got bored writing and this remains unfinished. Anyway suspend your disbelief and enjoy this pov.

approx 1100 words

reader has a peen, maybe they/he pronouns

Fuck no, not now! Suddenly tremors are shaking through you when just moments ago you had control of yourself. Your thoughts are foggy, your skin is hot and feels too tight, you compulsively swallow the extra saliva pooling in your mouth.

Studying your psychology research at the campus library is usually pretty mundane. You've been focusing on the arguments laid out by the really boring author of the article you're reading without a problem. Out of nowhere now your body is betraying you.

Since your first change you've been pretty much in control of the transformation that turns you from a normal human Filipino-american into a sleek sable colored predator from mythical legend. Yet there's one more milestone in a young were-pup's life that signals the true beginning of their maturity. Their rut.

A werewolf's first rut is just as overwhelming as their first change under the full moon. Most of the time there are signals that let the shifter know when this might be an issue so they can get back to their pack and experience the new, powerful, sexual urges in a controlled safe, and supportive environment.

In the past week you admit your body has been a little unpredictable, but nothing really has alerted you to this...Well, your lips twist in a wry self depreciating smirk.

Lately there have been times you've been overwhelmed by fantasies of stalking prey. When you went out to the bar with friends this weekend you couldn't help being more aggressive and flirtatious with them even though you'd never felt any urge like that before. You've been sleeping more, and having a hard time waking up to your alarms which is making you late for class and your teaching duties. And if you're being honest you've been having the strange urge to howl and pant when you pass by a particularly attractive person. Very unexpected.

Maybe you shouldn't have dismissed those red flag so quickly because there were very obviously signs of your changing body.

It's hard going through two puberties.

You swipe a hand over your face and look around the library wondering what to do. Maybe you have a little time before this gets bad. You look at your phone and think about calling your dad or one of your older brothers. Even if Marcellus or Pop could get here it would take hours for them to make the drive. Not a good option.

A cramp hits your lower belly and you exhale with a groan feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Maybe I'm not really rutting, you think, trying to rationalize your way out of this.

You know, from obsessives tracking the phases of the moon, that it's not time for your shift. The moon only has a weak power over you right now in it's waning phase

Fuuuuuuuuuck. You groan again. You watch your skin breakout in goosebumps. You are definitely sweating. Thankfully this section of the library is pretty deserted at 1am. Graduate students can usually be found here slumped over dissertations or capstones and combing the stacks for arcane academic knowledge, but since it's far from the end of the semester so it's empty. You look around making sure you don't sense anyone.

There's a light switch near the door though.

Better hide my shame you think, giddily.

Your idea to cut the lights it stalled when you stand. Your head is swimming, and your vision is so blurred you have to grab the table for a few moments while you adjust. Bent over the table, hot and panting like this you're still thinking you might have the flu or...

Another cramp rolls over you, this time with an overbearing wave of arousal that you have never experienced. Your hot skin tingles with sensations. The movement of your shirt and you breath heavily is causing it to brush against your chest, your hard nipples and stomach. The athletic shorts you're wearing had already been tight around your muscled thighs but now the pressure of the fabric makes your mind go blank. And worst of all your cock, which had basically been functional to this point is raging between your legs. Thick and insistent, threatening to mushroom out the waistband of your shorts like a lurid fleshy fruit.

Throwing your head back you let out a growl with the next cramp that wracks your body. And without meaning to that growl turns into a keening howl.

That briefly shakes you into control of your brain. With unnatural speed you get the lights off casting the study room into darkness, then slip deeper into the rows of bookshelves, before another wave of mind melting horniness grips your body.

Panting so hard you can hear it you lean against the hard spines of the books and suffer the sensations being forced on your body.

So he's going to pull down his shorts around his thighs and notice weeping werewolf meat. Then get the idea to try and take the edge off, bc that might give him time to get home or call a pack member. He take off his shirt planning to use it to catch the inevitable spunk when the clouds part and the weak moonlight shafts directly on him like a precisely shot arrow.

This causes a slight transform which is ecstatic. Now he's mindless.

As he begins to stroke the turgid pulsing length he notices a scent int he air. A girl, and his instincts take over even more. his feral brain has mostly taken over and he can't stop stroking with that scent in his nose.

is someone there? So maybe I can do this from a narrator pov. Like blah blah blah the life of a young wolf. And here we have...who's in for a long night. Kind of wonder years? Or like those old school sex ed films.

[akiwitch]

Wip wednesday: Who's your favorite OC to write and why? Tell me about them!

For POV it is 100% Shay from Ghost Punch forever and ever. She’s funny, she has an existential crises or two over old abandoned places, and I get to make bad puns. She’s just such a blast to get in her head and go (and her supporting cast is my favorite). Also so much crazy stuff can happen to her. And she has a ghost friend! Who doesn’t want that?

For non-POV it’s a tie! The first is a character coming up VERY soon in Last Light (chapter 23!!) I adore him. He’s the best boy. He’s pathetic and sopping wet. He committed war crimes. He thinks he’s the main character (he’s not). I’m just so excited for everyone to meet him~

Second is Max from GP for being the best friend ever and going along with Shay’s terrible plans and shenanigans.

(Honorable mention to Blythe, Lexa, and Finnias. Blythe for being the coolest, Lexa for having the sense of humor, and Finnias for being a ghost straight man to Shay’s antics)

Thank you so much for the ask!

[its-kelsier-again]

Chapter 46-56

Well, I lost all my thoughts from chapters 41 to 45 after restarting my phone. Somehow, despite saving it and not touching it for hours before I did the restart.

Some of the thoughts I managed to remember and from the next section of the book are under the cut.

Uh, really I was loving Steris in chapter 43 (and pretty much everywhere she appears in) and speculating that she may have a connection to Autonomy due to showing boldness in her PoV chapters. Also, I was worried we wouldn't see her again after Wax leaves to help Marasi and Wayne, but I'm so we did.

I'm a bit curious if Wax and Marasi have their own "clones" from the Set. If Wayne does, I think Wax certainly does, though I don't know if Marasi's important enough to them to create someone to match her.

I was also suspicious of the Set's motivations and goals after chapter 44 and 45. Like, are they really going to blow up Elendel or do they have other things they're trying to accomplish? Things aren't as simple as they seem, I think

Chapter 46 I wonder if the tunnel connects with the one Marasi and her group is in.

Unless that's supposed to lead us into a false sense of security

Oh my god, Wayne set a house on fire. That's kinda hilarious. And it's not even the first building he's set on fire. Of course not

Oh that's interesting. Telsin and the Set faked evidence to make taking over easier. That actually sounds like a good idea. Implicate the people the Basian already hates and take power immediately under the guise of the reluctant greater good or whatever.

Chapter 47 Connection between aether and sand mastery?

Is Shai watching Hoid? I kinda love that. I also wonder why she can't go home. Is it because of the events in The Emperor's Soul?

It seems the Set may know about Awakening due to talk about a Command. Oh and they know about a broken Spirit Web. Cool. It seems they're very Cosmere aware in general.

As if we didn't need it to be super obvious that Gave was a villain.

The Scadrial Ghostbloos are VERY different from the Roshar Ghostbloods. Not just in how they treat each other, but I couldn't see Mraize and his people saving the prisoners.

Chapter 48 I think is some set up for Era 3 with Daal taking the drained Bands of Mourning.

Varlance doesn't have much of a backbone, but at least he's doing his job.

Chapter 49 I change my mind. While I think Wayne (and maybe Marasi) is the most likely to die, I don't think so now because Wax found Wayne "blessedly alive" in chapter 46 and he was just shot and survived.

Okay, but during the fight with the clones, it keeps focusing on how the metal mines are draining quickly. Hm.

That was a really good chapter. I loved that fight, it was so good.

Chapter 51 I wonder if Shai can go to and from Shadesmar using her stamps.

Chapter 52 I'm getting worried about Wayne again...

Chapter 53 Great, are those horrifying things from Shadows of Self back? And yes, appearently it is. These things sound terrifying and I wonder if we'll see them in Era 3.

I'm very curious to see what this soulstamp does.

Chapter 54 Did Shai just become an Elantrian?! Yup. She did.

Chapter 55 And Autonomy appears, appearently!

Not Wax buying alcohol from a shop he just help destroy.

Chapter 56 Well this is weird. Who are these people, and are they friend or foe?

Oh. These people think the outside world is destroyed. Is that why the Set has those set and film?

Wow. So that was an interesting chapter.

[redylan]

WIP INTRO - Experiment Stargaze

“Sometimes," she looked on.  "I feel like we were just meant to stargaze."

GENRE: Science Fiction, New Adult 

STATUS: First draft complete (67k words), starting revision

POV: Third Person

STORY:

Miles Porter just graduated from high school.  Now, he has the rest of his life ahead of him, and it’s too much.  His friends are moving away, and he has no idea what he wants to do in college, or in life.

After talking with his best friend, Shay convinces Miles to work with him at his dad’s accounting firm.  It would be their last hurrah before college started.

That was before Miles discovered a portal to an alternate universe.

Now with an annoying, alternate version of Shay, Miles decides to explore as many new worlds as he can, hoping to find his calling.  Watch as he goes on an interdimensional journey full of drama, emotions, life and death.

CHARACTERS:

MILES PORTER - wannabe poet, ex-planetarium employee, now accounting intern.  He lives with a single father that he doesn’t have the best relationship with.  Miles keeps a journal full of poetry he’s written throughout the story.  He has used it as his main source of venting since he was a child.  He is creative, sensitive, thoughtful, playful, and often lives in his own world.

SHAY BLACKBURN - Miles’ best friend since middle school.  His dad is an accountant and Shay seems to follow in his footsteps.  He has an older brother going to college in California, which is where he will go in the fall.  He complements Miles nicely, with his sense of humor and quick rebuttals.  He is quick-witted, focused, funny, and always charming.

ELAINA VERITY - Miles’ childhood friend.  Even though Shay's his best friend, Elaina is really his confidant, the one he shares his passions with.  She loves fashion, and wants to start a business selling her handmade clothes.  She and Miles have a safe haven, Calment Hill, where they went to as kids to watch the stars and talk.  She is kind, caring, courageous, and loves bringing people up.

CYRAN BLACKBURN -   mysterious, arrogant, cocky and kind of wacko.  He is an alternate version of Shay, but with none of his personality (except some charm), and none of his connection with Miles.  He seems eager to start interdimensional trips with him, especially since Miles Porter is dead in his universe.  Is he up to something?

WILL - Shay’s friend from school, and accounting intern alongside Miles and Shay.  He's an extrovert who loves to party, while making sure everyone else is involved and having fun, as well.  He is also very trustworthy, courteous, occasionally distracted, and patient with those he cares about.

CAROL - an otherworldly girl, literally!  Miles’ friend from another dimension, a second year psychology student, and soon-to-be RA who wants to stay on top of her studies and wants Miles to be confident with his writing.  She is ambitious, smart, curious, and wants to understand people the way she may never understand herself.

Character Reference

Story Playlist

Please let me know if you want to be on a taglist for this project!  Really excited to get this put out, thank you all for reading.

[faeriefics]

The Last of the Light Fae - First Chapter.

Pairing: Fili x Female Faerie OC Shaeleign (Shay-lean)

Word Count: Approximately 3.2k.

Warnings: Mentions of troll filth, blood, the threat of violence, swearing.

Masterlist

Next Part

A/N: This is the first instalment of I don't know how many - I'm planning to have the second part feature Shae's perspective, and elaborate much more on her character, but I wanted to start from Fili's POV to allow for some context! I've made so many edits and touch-ups that at this point I need to post it before I chicken out! Any feedback or encouragement would be really appreciated!! If anyone would like to follow my posts for this series, let me know and I'd be very happy to open a taglist!

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

“What smells worse, brother-mine, those flea-ridden sacks the trolls wrapped us in, or this hole in which they used to live?” Kili was in such good-humours that anyone would have been none-the-wiser to know they had narrowly avoided being spit-roasted or eaten alive. Whether it was courage or something resembling stupidity, Fili would not comment - admittedly, he was shaken enough to feel confident in his will to live, but not so disturbed as to be deterred from their quest. His brother had been kicking a rock against the cave’s entrance for a minute or so now, distracted, no doubt doing as he was; filling his lungs with as much fresh, unpolluted air as possible, bracing for the stench he could already smell leaking from the entrance.

“This cave stinks worse than that dreadful stew Uncle attempted last winter solstice - if he’d added hound shit and rotten flesh I imagine it’d be close to the smell down there.” Fili instantly regretted speaking so much, his next soft intake of breath having him forget he was facing that rotten, dark hole; leaving him near-gagging at the stench, much to Kili’s apparent amusement. The dark-haired dwarf laughed, as loud and glee-filled as one could only be when giggling at another’s expense, and in truth Fili nearly laughed when his brother made the same mistake as he, his laughing turning to spluttering gags.

“Plug yer noses, breathe through yer mouths, and quit yer fretting! Bloody spoilt wee princesses, not known a day of true hard work-” Gloin’s head came poking through the darkness, red-hair briefly illuminated in the pale yellow light of the morning. Fili felt a clever retort clinging to his tongue, one weighing whether looting a cave previously occupied by mountain trolls qualified as ‘hard work’ - he for one did not see the point. Perhaps he was more easily convinced away from such endeavours by the rumbling of his belly and the soreness of his eyes from a missed night’s sleep - but on the other hand, his pride reared its head at the description of ‘spoilt’ - he was certainly not coddled. Had Gloin ever met his mother? If he and Kili had been playful and carefree thus far, it was merely because they had needn’t fear their mother’s temper and her will of iron on this journey. As much as he cared for (and, admittedly between himself and Kee, missed) their mother, she, at times, seemed scarier than the tall tales of orcs, goblins and trolls told in their youth to keep young dwarflings quaking in their bedsheets.

As though to prove precisely how unspoilt he was, his feet marched ahead - fearlessly, he imagined. Though the image of him pinching his nose and breathing through his mouth was perhaps less regal to those outside himself. “Come, brother, unless you’re too fearful.” His voice honked, nasally from his pinched nostrils, before he chose to remove his fingers and attempt to adjust to the stench - noticing how Kili came bounding into the cave, eager to prove his courage - or, again, stupidity - Fili thought with a slight smirk.

The cave was remarkably unextraordinary in appearance. Great congealed mounds of hideous brown and maroon - piled high enough to make Fili idly wonder how the trolls physically managed to get their crap to touch the ceiling. The reek was terrible enough to make the air in the cave feel balmy, like a sweaty summer’s day, as opposed to the typical damp cold stone walls such as these held. The flies which buzzed and crawled along the walls, floors and rugged ceiling of the hole did nothing to dispel the feeling of heat, and decay, and death. Bones of various humanoid creatures and animals littered the floors, picked clean apart from the odd dangling piece of skin. Much to his disgust, the blonde-haired prince trod on what he could only assume, given the long hair and flabby pink skin, was a piece of human scalp - that was enough to turn even his steel-clad stomach. “Apparently there is a creature who keeps their quarters messier than even you, Kili. I shall have to inform our mother.” Fili jabbed, watching with mirth as his brother’s face turned into light-hearted offence.

Before Kili could retort, Thorin spoke up. “A troll cave is no laughing matter - think on what your fate could have been if luck had not been on our side.” With that, Fili’s mirth shrank, and a more serious eye upon the bones and waste and junk filling the space made him realise that they could just as easily have joined the ranks of these lost souls. Only Fili would not call it luck so much - rather a quick-thinking hobbit and a conveniently timed wizard - still, he felt it best not to correct his uncle if his current mood was any indication of how well that would be appreciated. Instead, the dwarven prince moved closer to their leader, watching with a keen eye as Thorin pulled a wrapped weapon covered in a sticky, thick layer of cobwebs, followed by another, from within what might have been a weapons display rack in another life. Now, it looked like metal so rusted that a touch might have disintegrated it, mangled and curled almost to beyond recognition.

On the other side of the cave, Bofur, Gloin and Nori were setting about burying a small chest of shimmering golden coins for safekeeping - “We’re makin’ a long-term deposit!” Gloin exclaimed, no doubt as a response to Dwalin’s stoic, almost unreadable expression. Fili would say his look was one bordering on exasperation, but one never could tell with Dwalin. Fili was far more interested in the blades - while Gandalf said they were Elven, a fact which had his uncle perturbed and hesitant, Fili could not help but admire the craftsmanship of one dagger in particular. Wiping it free of cobwebs with the back of his sleeve, admiring the silver curve of the hilt, he pulled the wrappings away and almost felt his eyes gleam at the sharp edge of the blade, the slight curve to it which promised a beautiful cut. At that moment, he decided he didn’t mind much if it was forged by elves. Surely, it would serve better tucked away for him to use; than left to rot in some stinking cave. It wasn’t like he lacked blades, mind - but what was one more? He still had plenty of hiding places in mind.

Thorin turned to leave, unsatisfied with staying for much longer, and truly, Fili did not fancy loitering about for much longer. But something, right in the very corner of his peripheral vision, glinted in the light his uncle’s torch cast when he moved. It was a split second, but that second was enough to fill him with curiosity. “Wait, just a moment - what is that?” Even he could hear the perplexed tone to his voice, his outstretched finger pointing into the darkness at the very back of the cave. Watching where he stepped, Fili relied on the torch of Thorin, hot on his heels, to guide his way. Right behind another tower of steaming substances, the very edge of the… thing, must have glinted in the light. But what was it, he wondered.

It was not unlike a crystal - but one so massive, so much larger than any he had ever seen, that surely it could not be possible. Large enough that their hobbit could have laid flat on his back and stretched his arms as far behind his head as possible, and only then would that have made the length of it. The width was equally as impressive, if Fili had to guess, it was about as wide as both of his arms if he attempted to wrap himself around it. It was a strange colour, too. He had never seen a crystal of light turquoise before, and to see the puzzled, awed expressions on the faces of the elder dwarves who were crowding around the corner (who, quite frankly, were far more knowledgeable on such matters than he) told him he wasn’t far wrong.

“I have never- not in all my years, not even in great Erebor, seen a gem of such magnitude… Such a thing can't come from the earth!” Balin stumbled over his words, more than taken aback, and though Fili felt… Frightened? To touch it, his legs moved forward as though he was bewitched. It was a feeling like jumping into a lake when one was unable to swim, knowing he could sink beneath the water like a rock, but desiring to feel the cold and the wet upon his skin all the same. Perhaps he was more shaken up from the troll incident than he thought, for perhaps he’d gone mad, but the prince swore the crystalised walls of the gem pulsed with energy? It radiated something. His hand fell upon it, and he shouldn’t have been surprised that nothing happened, but he was all the same. Slightly warm to the touch, his hand felt thick with dirt, dust and cobwebs upon the surface. Sweeping his hand across, casting a streak which revealed the gem was a thousand shades of blue, green and white. Fili stood, utterly transfixed, dumbstruck - and about to lean in closer to get a better look-

“Come away! Get back!” Suddenly, there was Gandalf, and his large arm was pushing against his chest and shoving him back - and had he not been half as strong as he was, he would have fallen right on his arse from the force of it, but thankfully he managed to catch himself before he fell - or crashed into the tower of solidified troll shit. The wizard touched the gem, before retracting his hand and muttering something even he could not hear, and he was closest. “-It cannot be… It is not possible.” Fili eventually caught some of Gandalf's quiet mumbles, the words then sending his eyes searching the equally confused glances of the company.

“Gandalf? What is this folly, what is that? A gem?” His uncle broke the silence after a near minute passed off only the wizard’s whispers. To which Gandalf the Grey, cryptically, placed his hand upon the streak his own had cleared moments ago. “This is no gem, Thorin Oakenshield, something far more... Exceptional. A fossil, undoubtedly, a creature long dead. But the casing is not natural. It has power to it - magic, magic beyond the likes I have seen.” Gandalf’s words struck a chord, erupting a chorus of muttering among the dwarves. When Fili thought of fossils, his mind was cast to shells and the tiny bones of extinct creatures embedded in rock. Or perhaps to the perfectly preserved giant dragonfly in amber, which he recalled the inn closest to his childhood home displayed above the bar. The crystal before them did not resemble either of those things, not to him. Those things had felt dead, so dead that they became objects of fascination - curiosities for one to ogle at. Whether it was magic, as Gandalf said, or something else, he felt his palm tingle at the memory of the warmth that surface had held.

Against his better senses, Fili removed his overcoat of furs - brandished it before him, and wiped it up and down the ‘fossil’ to clear it of debris, bracing a hand along the edge near the top as he removed the now filthy furs, taking a look within before Gandalf could even think to stop him. And what he saw beggared belief. It was female - that much was abundantly obvious by the ornate gown that may have been silver, white, or a light blue. It was hard to say for sure with the crystal being coloured cold; turning all to a wispy blob - bigger in some refractions and smaller in others, she appeared to float among her frozen world. But what she was, he could not say. Fili has never seen anything like her.

His first instinct would have been to call her elven with her lithe frame and light hair. But that hair, long and coiled, appeared even lighter than the white-blonde of some elves, even in the blue-light - he imagined it would look like unspoilt, crisp snow, like moonlight’s glow, free from her prison. That, and she was far shorter than the typical elf - taller than Bilbo, but shorter still than Balin. Her ears stretched into a finer, thinner tip than elves from what he could see; like a honey-toned short dagger. In truth, her complexion was so warm - like honey in a jar, or the sun-kissed maidens said to reside south where the light was warm and bronzing. Truly, she may have been the most beautiful maiden he had ever set eyes upon. He could well have mistaken her for Varda Elentari, the Queen of the Valar and Lady of the Stars - whom the elves were said to worship as a Goddess. Such was his surprise that the hand he had used upon the top of her diamond coffin to brace himself slipped, the sharp edge catching and slashing his palm clean open.

His blood dripped in fat, heavy droplets down the surface of light blue, his palm stung hot and angry and throbbing as he stumbled back. Assessing the damage, he turned his head towards the others; all of whom were staring, not at him, but at the mass before them. And looking himself, he felt his own eyes turn to the size of dinner plates. Mahal above. A crack, about the size of his hand, had bloomed from where he cut his hand - and down it went, breaking and splintering along the trail of his blood. It was as though it was not solid crystalised amber after all, but ice cracking under the heat of fresh blood. His pupils followed the crack with such anticipation when it reached the floor, creating the tiniest of drops against the floor, that he nearly flew out of his skin when the entire thing shattered. A million aquamarine diamonds crashed to the floor, clattering and bouncing, as the figure they had held within equally collapsed into a heap.

It was stupid - truly and utterly thick-skulled of him - to have shot forward to grab the dead maiden as he did. As if she could have been alive and felt pain from crashing to the floor - but, touching her, scooping her away from the crystal which crunched beneath his feet like broken glass, light as she was it was like lifting a sack of flour… it dawned him too late that her body was limp, flaccid - she had ought to have been stiff as a board, rigid and dead and forever frozen in the preserved pose she had held for who knew how many years. He should have dropped her then and there, he saw his uncle surge forward from where he and the company had been… Frozen? Perhaps too shocked to move, or unable to? And when he looked back down at the woman, her eyelids were not closed with those darker eyelashes curling off the top of her cheeks, but open. And they were gold, a mixture of yellow topaz and golden coins, and there was something cold, hard and sharp pressed against the thin skin at his neck.

She… Pulled the elven dagger from where it had sat at the side of his breeches and had pressed it right against his neck. What was wrong with him, that he was more impressed than concerned that after, what, a few thousand years? The first instinct of this woman was to steal his weapon and hold him hostage with it. “Càit a bheil mi? Cò th 'annad? Bruidhinn - no gearraidh mi thu fosgailte!” Fili did not understand a word she said, she spoke in a language likely far forgotten - but her voice, while aggressive and provoked, was akin to the twinkling of a harp; musical, light and accented, it was unlike any spoken word he had ever heard, and he was dumbstruck. Even more so when the members of his company surged forward, only to be stopped, as though an invisible barrier stood between them - with a glance down, he saw her free palm outstretched toward them.

“I- I cannot understand-” The others could not proceed, but all the same Gandalf called out, stunted and clumsy - attempting to converse with the woman - though even he, with his knowledge, seemed to struggle with speaking what was likely an ancient language. “A bheil thu a ’bruidhinn an teanga cumanta?” The woman cast a look towards the wizard, not relenting in her pressure upon his throat, before turning her fiery gaze back towards him.

“Where… Is this? What time? Who…” Her voice trailed into a whisper. Initially, Fili thought her grasp on the common tongue was poor, and she was unable to express what she meant to say, but then he saw it. The outstretched arm was trembling - which hardly astonished Fili. How anything could even be alive, let alone up and attempting to fight, moved far beyond anything he knew to be real. Whatever she was, she had to be weak - she had to be using everything she had to prevent the company from reaching him. Taking advantage of the weakness he had only speculated, he very suddenly dropped his arms, and from the shock that crossed her face, perhaps she had been too focused on offence and answers to think of what or who was keeping her aloft. Though the knife was now away from his throat, and her hand had fallen; the dwarf could not help wondering if he had done a wicked thing. The creature had collapsed, a single streak of red blood running from her left nostril - her mouth drowned of colour such that he wondered if she were dead.

Even as Kili ran towards him, likely seeing if his throat had been nicked by the dagger, he could only watch Gandalf swoop in on the woman. The wizard lifted her chest upwards, ear pressed to the top of her chest to listen for a heartbeat, as Thorin brandished his recently acquired weapon, no doubt as a precaution. “What is it?” His uncle spoke deep, as Gandalf turned his head, breathing out in what, without words, truly sounded like disbelief. “A faerie, and believe me, never did I think I would meet one in the flesh. They were wiped out in the First Age - ripped apart, or worse, enslaved, by dark forces - orcs and far worse. I have no doubt that she is the last of her kind - that she is even alive is a miracle.” Gandalf spoke reverently, even as he lifted the limp, apparent faerie, into his arms. “And what do you suggest we do with it? Whatever it may be, it threatened my kin, and you cannot suggest we allow it to accompany us.” Thorin sounded resolute, but Gandalf appeared even more so. “If the legends of her kind are to be trusted, you would not be wise to make a fae your foe - I suggest we wait. I can not, in good conscience, leave her to die. And should she attempt an attack of that kind again, well, she shall find me far more prepared.”

[nicolewoo]

Cub Part 5

Pairing: Roman Reigns X Reader

Synopsis: Roman, Seth and Dean are a pack of werewolfs. Protecting their city from the scumbags of the world ends up with a surprise when a victim left for dead imprints on Roman Reigns.

Y/N’s POV

Shay arrived like a hurricane with multiple rings of the doorbell and lots of orders for the guys.

Roman chuckled, “It’s Shay.”

Roman was here. Still on the floor. The thought comforted me, but I didn’t have time to think about it before Shay entered the room with 2 giant frappes. “How’s my favorite patient?” She handed me the drink. It might have been the best frappe ever or was that just because I hadn’t had one in… this was the 2nd day here…. So it wasn’t that long.

“Thank you. How can I be your favorite patient if you haven’t met me yet?” I asked.

She grabbed the notebook and started reading through the pages as she said, “I met you on the phone last night,” she peeked around the notebook “didn’t I?”

I smiled at her. “Yeah.”

She focused on the chart again, asking questions of Roman who was still trying to wake up. “Give me a second, lady” He joked.

“I started the coffee pot. It’s probably ready by now.”

He stood now, and I was breathless as I realized he didn’t have a shirt on. He was stunning. His toned muscles, his tanned skin……

“Thank you Shay.” He said before kissing her on the cheek and going to get a cup.

Shay stopped reading when he left. “Seriously, are you ok? Are they taking good care of you?”

I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about just how great Roman’s back looked as he left. “Yeah, they’ve been very attentive.”

“Good. How is your pain?” The same question I kept hearing yesterday.

I sighed. “I’m fine. Please no more morphine.”

Shay went to her bag, pulling out three pill bottles. “I got you honey. I brought a couple different pain relievers that won’t knock you out so bad.” I must have looked relieved because she smiled.

Shay removed the bandages and started checking my wounds. A bit of what she did hurt, but not as much as it should. The smell of bacon wafted into the room, and my stomach growled in protest.

“Don’t get excited. You’re on clear liquids while your stomach heals,” Seth said as he entered the room with a cup of coffee.

I was starving and they were going to deny me food? Of course, there were a ton of stitches in my digestive track. I decided not to argue, but to take another route. “Shay?” She looked at me. “They’re denying me food and torturing me with the scent of bacon.”

Shay laughed. “He’s right though. We’ve gotta be careful until we know you’re healing inside.” At my frown, she smiled. “I brought you some broth from my favorite restaurant, and if that goes well, you might be able to have a little bit of scrambled egg. Ok?” She winked at me conspiratorially.

After having my wounds checked, I drank two cups of broth quickly. We tested my ability to stand, and I did with no problems.

Roman’s pov

When Shay asked if Y/N was ready for a bath, Y/N lit up. I knew she felt grubby. Who wouldn’t? Given the situation though, me being her mate (which she didn’t know yet) and Seth and Dean basically being her brothers, we had hoped Shay would help with bathing. I expected her to give a sponge bath, but seeing how well Y/N was healing, Shay decided to do a full bath.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I offered.

Shay shot me a look. “I’m going to need some towels. After that, I’m going to need you boys to go out for a while.” Shay thought I wanted to see my mate naked…. To touch her….. but I just wanted to be of assistance. It was probably good though. Even laying here recovering, still covered in the dirt and blood from her attack, I was drawn to our Cub. I couldn’t keep my mind off mating with her. The imprinting bond was always yelling in the back of my mind to claim her.

I reluctantly followed orders and went out for a run in the woods with my pack, giving Shay an hour to clean and pamper my girl. As we morphed into wolf form for the run, I could hear my mate trying to persuade Shay that she could shower herself. Shay told her to raise her arms like she was washing her hair and hold them there for 1 minute. Y/N wasn’t able to, and Shay won the battle, filling the tub and helping Y/N in after covering her stomach to protect the stitches from the water.

When we got back, we found Y/N sitting in bed, hair wet and the smell of soaps mixing with her natural scent. It was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.

“There she is!” Seth said coming in the room. “Feel better?” He was all smiles seeing his packmate improving.

She sighed as she smiled. “MUCH better.”

Without even thinking, I sat in the chair next to the bed. Y/N was quick to put her hand out for me to hold. I caught a knowing look from Shay.

It was time to tell Y/N. I could feel Shay mentally prepare herself for it. The pack knew too. Dean came in with 2 chairs for he and Seth to sit in. I moved to allow Shay to sit, and I sat on the other side of the bed, happily taking Y/N’s hand when she offered it again.

Shay took Y/N’s other hand. “Ok Baby. I know you’ve got questions, and I’m here to answer them.” How the hell does someone tell someone else that I turned her into a werewolf? None of us had ever had to. The only person I could think of who had delivered that news to someone was Shay. I expected Shay to ease into the conversation. Instead, she just came right out and said it. “You’ve been turned into a werewolf.

Silence filled the room like a heavy cloud. Y/N looking at each of us slack jawed for a minute before smiling. “You’re kidding. What’s the truth?”

Shay placed her other hand over Y/N’s before directly telling her again. “Baby, when you were attacked the other night, you were bitten. You are a werewolf now.  More precisely, you are turning into a werewolf.”

Y/N looked at us again, her smile turning to anger because she thought we were joking with her.

“Dean, baby, will you please show her?” Shay asked. Dean grunted his yes before leaving the room and showing up outside the window wearing nothing but his underwear. He waived at Y/N with his big goofy grin before turning away and morphing into a wolf.

Y/N gasped. Her eyes sought out Seth then Shay then me. “I…….. werewolf?”

“Yes baby.” I answered as my thumb caressed the back of her hand.

“I’m a werewolf?” she started checking her neck for bite marks, finding the mostly healed proof of my bite and looking at me. I nodded.

“Ok Dean.” Shay said. Dean easily hearing her from outside the window morphed back. “Yes baby. You’re going to be able to do that too.”

Y/N turned to me, pleading in her eyes. I pulled her into my arms and held her. “It’s ok. It’s going to be ok.”

“Hey, this is a good thing… not a bad thing.” Dean chirped up as he came back into the room, putting on his shirt.

It was obvious Shay didn’t like the interruption at first, but she realized Dean said the right thing. “He’s right, Y/N. Being a werewolf is amazing.”

I felt my mate relax a bit. “For instance, you heal faster.” Seth added and looked at Y/N. “You wanted to know why you were healing so fast…. This is why.”

“And we live 5 times longer than a human.” Dean added.

Shay seeing a trend added, “We’re stronger than the average human…. I mean a LOT stronger, and we have heightened senses.”

“That’s why I could hear Seth brushing his hair in another room?” Cub asked me.

I nodded yes, “I bet you haven’t missed your glasses either.” We’d found her glasses crushed next to her body when we rescued her. There was no saving those.

She reached up to her face, as if just realizing she wasn’t wearing them. “I can see!”

“Better than 20/20.” Dean added.

I felt her chest expand as she breathed in my scent, peeking up at me with those beautiful eyes, and I immediately smelled a bit of arousal. “Yes. Smelling too. All 5 senses,” I agreed.

“But do werewolves kill people?” she furrowed her brow.

“No way, Cub.” Dean answered. “We could eat wild animals, but personally, I prefer to eat as a human. More flavor that way.”

A knowing look passed her face. “Cub…… I get it now. The guy you killed…. Was he the one who bit me?” She looked up to me. I couldn’t answer. I’d been dreading this since I bit her. I’d have to admit that I was the one who changed her. She’d probably want nothing to do with me after I told her.

“No, Cub.” Shay took Y/N’s hand again. “Have you seen Twilight?” She asked. When Y/N nodded Shay continued. “They actually got one thing right about werewolves. Do you remember them talking about imprinting?”

“Yeah, of course, but I thought real life imprinting was mostly between parents and their cubs.” Cub said.

We were all shocked that she knew that much about wolf imprinting. “Yes, that’s true for the most part, but not always. About 1% of werewolves can imprint romantically. You, young lady, are in that 1%.”

“I am?” even as she asked, she looked up at me, curled around her now, comforting her as best I could. “You imprinted on me?”

I smiled down at her, “No. YOU imprinted on ME.” I said before screwing up the courage to finally admit, “I’m the one who turned you.”

At my words, she stiffened and pulled out of my arms. “You?” She was pissed.

Shay quickly explained. “He didn’t have a choice. When these guys found you, you were dying.”

“Even if we’d gotten you to the hospital, we couldn’t have saved you.” Seth added.

“Roman didn’t have a choice” Shay continued. “You imprinted on him, and because of that, he couldn’t let you die. The only choice he had was to turn you.”

Y/N calmed a bit, and I took her hand again as I looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. I couldn’t let you die.” She nodded once. Did that mean she forgave me? I took comfort in the fact that she hadn’t pulled her hand away from mine.

Shay’s comforting nurse voice broke the silence that hung in the room like a cloud. “We have a lot to talk about now.  You two can talk later.”

What? There was nothing more important than my relationship with our cub. What could be more important that that?

Shay said, “You’re going to finish turning 3 nights from now; when the full moon arrives. Now, all these positive things we’ve been telling you about being a wolf….. Well, there’s a bad part too. When you morph into wolf form, it’s going to be excruciating pain.”

My eyes shot to Shay. This was the first time I’d heard of this. “Pain?” I noticed my brothers tensing up at the news.

Shay nodded slowly. “You boys grew up as wolves. Your bodies have never known anything else. Y/N’s body isn’t used to it. As you turn, your bones and muscles and ligaments and… well everything will be moving in ways they’ve never moved before.”

I cringed at the thought. Dean let out a huff of frustration; while Seth hung his head.

“The good news,” Shay continued, “is that once you turn, your wolf will heal your body, so the worst of the pain will only last a few minutes, but you’ll be  very miserable for about 5-10 minutes the first time.” Shay reached out and took my mate’s hand. “But each time you morph, your body gets used to the changes. In a week, it won’t hurt anymore.”

I could sense my pack’s dread at what cub would go through. “I’m so sorry.” I told our little cub.

Y/N looked up at me, wide eyed. She took a deep breath and said, “Ok. Well, 5-10 minutes isn’t too bad.”

Shay continued “I know you’ve said you don’t want any more pain meds, but I highly recommend having something available for when you turn. I’ve watched 2 people morph for the first time. One without pain meds and one with. Trust me when I say you’re going to want pain meds.”

Our cub nodded her head as she steeled her resolve. “Ok.”

Seth asked, “Wait. That means one of us has to stay human long enough to give her the shot if she wants it.” Shay agreed.

“I’ll do it.” I said.

Shay started shaking her head no. “Ro, she’s going to need you in wolf form to comfort her. It can’t be you.”

“I got it.” Dean interjected. “I’ll stay in human form until I’m sure she’s ok.” Dean looked at us. “Just remember not to eat me.” He joked, and my mate smiled back at him.

“I’ll do my best.” Y/N said.

Cub said, “How is he gonna know if I need the pain meds or not?”

“Because the second you start turning, you’re going to trigger the pack bond, and you’ll all be mentally connected. They’ll be able to feel your emotions and your pain.” Shay paused a second before adding. “Which brings me to the next point. You two” She pointed at my brothers “need to practice thinking of nothing. She’s going to be in a lot of pain. At the same time, she’s going to get inundated with all three of your minds. If you can keep your minds clear, it will help her. Can you do that?”

Dean leaned back in his chair. “Yeah! I do that all the time.”

Seth and I both chucked, and I noticed Cub did too.

“What happens when she changes back? Is that painful too?” I asked, pulling Cub closer to me.

Shay nodded. “It won’t be near as bad as the first time, but yes, she’s going to be sore and achy for a week or so as her body adjusts to turning.”

I was crestfallen. What had I done? I’d doomed my mate to a week of torture.

“I want you all to be aware that when Y/N turns, she will probably go into heat within the first week.” I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. Seeing that, Shay continued. “Calm down Ro. Seth, Dean, you guys will probably want to be far away when that happens.”

Cub chirped up now, “Can we talk about this in private?”

Seth and Dean both chuckled. “We’re going to know the second you go into heat. We’re going to be linked by then. No reason to talk about it in private.” Dean said.

Shay laid a reassuring hand on Y/N’s. “Baby, going into heat isn’t anything to be embarrassed about.”

Seth added “In wolf culture, females are revered, especially when they go into heat or are pregnant.”

Cub cocked her head to the side inquisitively. “Really?”

Shay sat a little straighter, a little prouder. “Absolutely baby! Women are treated like queens in wolf culture. We are protected and honored and worshiped. Creating life is the most noble thing a wolf can do. Going into heat is thought of as honoring your mate. If we were in Samoa, the tribe would throw you a party after successful coupling.”

Cub’s mouth opened like she was going to say something, but nothing came out.

Shay patted Y/N’s hand. “Because changing a human into a werewolf is so painful, our tribe decided decades ago that we would not turn humans to wolves. We rely solely on wolf mating to continue our line, so when a wolf goes into heat, gets pregnant or gives birth, it’s celebrated by the entire tribe. This whole idea of hiding your body’s natural processes is a human thing.”

“Wait…. So she’s going to go into heat while she’s in pain?” I asked. “Can we….” Suddenly the idea of talking about mating made me shy. I’d never felt that way before, and I realized I was reading Cub’s emotions. Cub was the one shy about this.

Shay finished my thought. “Mate? That will be up to her. She’s going to have to determine if she feels good enough for mating.” She looked at my mate now. “Just so you know, werewolf mating is much more intense than human. Be positive you can handle it.”

I inhaled deeply, which only made me smell my mate. I had to suppress my desire to growl in frustration. “Ok.”

We talked for about two hours teaching Cub all we could about being a werewolf. I took comfort in the fact that Y/N didn’t pull away from me anymore. She stayed wrapped in my arms as we talked. Surely that was proof that she’d accept me as her mate. Wasn’t it?

@mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole @wickedsunfire

[wyndlerunner]

My Ranking of the Cosmere Novellas/Short Stories

(Going to try to avoid major spoilers for these works in case you haven’t gotten to them yet, but proceed at your own risk)

1) The Emperor’s Soul - An absolute 10/10.  Beautiful in every way.  A piece of art to rival Shai’s own work.  One of Branderson’s most unique protagonists.  Commentary about art and its relationship to its creator.  The dynamic between Shai and Gaotona *chef’s kiss*.  One of the few Sanderson works that acknowledges that good people in government does not benefit the people unless they’re willing to make systemic changes and pursue justice for everyone in their society.  Not surprised that this is the piece that finally got Branderson his Hugo award

2) Mistborn: Secret History - 9/10.  An automatic second place because of how critical it is to the greater Cosmere.  An in-text reference to Adonalsium? Check.  Confirmed worldhoppers from Threnody, Taldain, and Sel, with the bonus appearance of a fabrial? Check.  Kelsier’s tenderness towards Vin? Anime fight between Hoid and Kelsier?  Closure for some of our favs from Era 1?  Check, check, and check.  Not as beautifully crafted as the Emperor’s Soul, which is why I’m not giving it a 10, but a must-read for the Cosmere

3)  Dawnshard - 9/10.  Refreshingly different from the other Stormlight books. Representation of disabilities and bilingualism/experiences of immigrants.  Automatic two-stars for cat/larken mom, Rysn. Lopen’s little arc was also a punch in the gut, and so different from other character arcs in Sanderson’s books.  The Lore implications in this book are arguably almost as important as Secret History’s, but I’m placing it third because Sanderson kind of cheated with this novel-length “novella”.

4) Shadows for Silence in the Forests of Hell - 8/10.  A wild ride that I absolutely enjoyed.  Silence Montane is one of my favorite Cosmere women.  A mother willing to do anything for her children?  Down for murder?  Savvy, clever, and subtle in her craft?  This woman is everything to me.  Very different compared to the rest of the Cosmere, but not as unique when compared to the greater genre.  If someone chose this as their first Sanderson read, they wouldn’t get a good idea of his style or world building, but the implications to the Cosmere endgame are wild.  Ripe for fan theories

5) Sixth of the Dusk - 7/10.  I would die on Patji.  Actually, I wouldn’t even get to shore.  But I loved it still.  The recurring symbolism with the feather and individual arrogance?  The secret behind the Aviar? The relationship between the trappers and their love for their Aviar above all else?  The ending theme about how unchecked capitalism leads to exploitation?  A solid Sanderson read

6) Edgedancer - 6.5/10.  I like Lift as a character, but 50k words of her POV narration is a little tiring.  A full star for grumpy Wyndle and his usefulness in giving us good Lore. I liked getting to see parts of Roshar we hadn’t encountered yet, and seeing parts that often get left out of the royal POVs that make up the main series. A solid read but not particularly outstanding amongst Sanderson’s other short works

7) The Eleventh Metal  - 5/10.  Good backstory for Kelsier but didn’t have a ton of substance and wasn’t particularly memorable.  Didn’t dislike it, but wouldn’t go back to reread, whereas  the other works above add value with each reread

8) The Hope of Elantris - 4/10.  An underwhelming read that was alright, and just short enough that I didn’t get too annoyed with it.   It gets a star because Dashe is a legitimately good father and we know that the Cosmere could use every one of those that it can get.  An extra star because of the author’s note at the end of it and the kindness that compelled Branderson to even write this little piece.  If 13-year-old me knew that my favorite author made me the main character in one of his stories, I would have wept.  I’m sure real life Matisse was similarly moved

9) Allomancer Jak and the Pits of Eltania - 1/10  I know he was writing this to feel like an old-timey western story but I couldn’t stand it.  A few paragraphs from the newspaper clippings in Era 2 were fun and refreshing, but a whole short story made me want to bang my head on the wall.  I skimmed through this purely for the Lore, and I really only got some information about how the Koloss are made, but not much more than you can glean yourself from reading the Mistborn novels and other shorts. Not really worth reading except for the street-cred of claiming you’ve read every Cosmere work

[nolabballgirl]

Writing, directing, acting, originality and cinematography. In your opinion which if the above area/s does each remake that you watch excel in?

Hi, Anon! Thanks so much for your ask - it really made me think! Caveat - I’ve only watched S4 of Skam Italia, so it’s excluded from this list, but I’ve watched the OG and all the other remakes. Anyway, here we go:

Originality

Skam OG - i can’t make this list without paying homage to the version that started it all. of course the OG has it’s fair share of problems, but it introduced me to the girl squad, evak, and sana bakkoush, and the whole concept of tackling important topics in real time through the POV of a high schooler.

Skam España - okay, season 4 debacle aside, i loved all the changes that Eskam did from the original. fixed a lot of what i disliked about the OG and kept the focus solidly on the girl squad. i thought giving cris the isak storyline was genius. nora grace leaving miquel! and the only remake to give us las labass! (ugh, i really hate how s4 leaves a bitter taste in my mouth given how much i loved s1-3)

Druck - loved the changes made for the matteo/david season. and hands down the best new gen adaptations (nora and fatou). i think druck excels where it is allowed to be original and can move away from the source material.

*Special Mention* Skam Austin - oh, we barely knew you! but i loved how ethnodiverse you were and where you were going with shay and zoya. bittersweet that we weren’t able to continue these journeys. oh, and poonam!  

Writing/Directing

Skam España - again, season 4 aside where i felt and still feel deeply betrayed by begoña, i think she and her writing team did a bang up job with seasons 1-3. the dialogues felt natural and real, and i think she brought out some great performances out of her young actors. the pacing of seasons 2 and 3 wasn’t the best, but i still really enjoyed them overall.

Skam OG - yes, julie andem can be polarizing, but she put together a solid, well-directed four seasons. i have the most issues with the writing in seasons 2 and 4, but otherwise, an iconic and memorable blueprint.

*Special Mention* Druck (new gen) - i’ve really enjoyed the writing and storylines included in druck’s nora and fatou seasons. i think the showrunners really internalized all the feedback and criticism from the old gen seasons and improved upon the writing in a major, major way. also i love the inclusion of mental illness, learning disabilities, and racism/microaggressions as major storylines.

Acting

Skam OG - the acting just feels very raw and real to me. i thought lisa set the bar high with her debut as eva and the rest of the cast continued that trend.

Skam España - my favorite chemistry with the girl and boy squads. for individual performances, in particular, loved irene, celia, and hajar! *chef’s kiss* 

Druck - michi/lukas! mazzouk too! tua and hassan’s chemistry leapt off the screen. fairly solid casting and i’m digging the acting of the new gen too.

And then i think there are good individual performances with the others (e.g. lula/assa/flavie from skam france; veerle from wtfock; suus in skam nl, etc.)

Cinematography

Skam NL -  the colors, the outfits, the aesthetics. very fun and stylistically cool and quirky.

Skam France - say what you want about skam france, but it’s aesthetically very polished and pleasing. although the least “raw” if that makes sense. it doesn’t hurt that paris makes such a beautiful backdrop!