#FOUL LEGACY IS PRETTY I SAID IT IT'S TRUE

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

shy Foul Legacy. you wonder, sometimes, how Childe loves. with how smug and easygoing he is you can only assume that he loves as fiercely as ocean waves, the type of person to laugh and swing you around when asking how your day was. and in some ways, he is, since that's how he greets you everyday when you visit the Bank, a grin on his face and a rarely-seen twinkle in his eye. around you, Childe is loud, boisterous, confident- but only because he's buried how shy he feels when you're near him under the Abyss, within Foul Legacy. when you finally see his other form, all those soft, delicate feelings rise to the surface. the first time you met, Foul Legacy had been scared, scared that you'd think he was a monster. but you, in all your wonderful braveness, had walked up without a second thought. you had called him "beautiful". and before Childe knew it the room felt too warm and he was covering his face with his hands, a blushing, stuttering mess. it's so cute how he looks away when you approach, cheeks warm even with his mask on. how he whines and hides his face behind his claws when you compliment him. how he yelps when your lips brush his forehead, flustered from the way you lightly chuckle. how he ducks his head behind your shoulder when embarrassed, talons still holding your arm because he doesn't want you to go. he always apologizes afterwards, saying he “acted like a fool”. but you simply hum and run your thumb over his cheeks, because you found it sweet, and soon enough Childe finds himself coming to you in either form for soft affections and a respite from needing to act so sure of himself all the time. yes, on the day you met Foul Legacy, you found that the Eleventh Harbinger loved softly, like the lulling tide under the starlit sky.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Legacy

Tee Higgins x Ochocinco!Daughter

Description: Tee's been dating one of his idol's daughter behind his back. What happen's when the reader breaks her dad's number one rule? How will Ocho react when he finds out?

a/n: I need to start writing shorter, but I physically can't. I hope it meets your expectations ♡

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: overprotective father figures, language,

Main Masterlist

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Over the last seven months you’ve been happier than ever. You got a promotion at work, finally moved out of your dad’s house and met him. You’d never felt a love like this, he made you feel things you couldn’t have imagined. He didn’t just care about you, he cherished your love, encouraged your goals, and helped you feel safe. Tee made you feel seen in the world, in his world filled with countless others that would give anything for his attention.

Falling in love with Tee Higgins was easy, hiding it from Chad Johnson was the hard part. 

Every Memorial Day weekend your dad throws a small family kickback. At first it was his way of welcoming the summer since us kids were out of school, now that we’re older he does it so we have an excuse to spend time together. This year it’s gonna be in Miami at his new condo and of course he invited all of us, including any plus ones that we wanted to bring. Funny enough Memorial Day falls on the 7 month anniversary of you and Tee being together. The coincidence of the two dates lining up is chilling. 

Your dad was the stereotypical black father growing up, he didn’t want his daughters dating anyone until 35. While that rule was broken days after him stating it, there was one he would lay his life on the line for. 

‘No daughter of his shall ever date an athlete, but more specifically a football player.’

Real funny coming from him, the legendary NFL wide receiver. It’s also funny that your boyfriend and your dad played for the same team with the same number. Yea you’re pretty much dead if he finds out.

Thankfully there may be someone that can help you.

Calling ‘Future Rich Wine Auntie’…

“Hello?”

“I'm in a crisis.” You huff.

“Oh look it’s my poor little sister crying for my help once again, what did you do this time y/n?” She snickered.

“Jicyra, you’re two years older than me.”

“..and wiser and more stable (financially and mentally).” She mumbled that last part, not very well though.

“Hey!”

You could hear her smirk though the phone. “It’s true, I’m not in my 2nd year of residency making no where close to the current average in your field.” Well she didn’t have to rub it in.

“I know but- look we actually do have a problem.”  

“I knew it, you broke your dishwasher.” She cackles.

“Oh my god, I did not break the dishwasher. Why do you say shit like that? I’m talking about Tee and dad.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh.. wait you still haven’t told him?”

You sigh. “Not that it’s Tee, he knows I’m dating someone.” 

“ Just rip the bandaid off, no harm no foul.” 

“That’s easier said than done, Cyra.”

“Look all I’m saying is you’re making a really big deal out of nothing. Dad ain't gon do shit, plus he considers Tee a second son half the time.”

ੈ♡˳

After getting off the phone with your sister, you started to devise a plan to tell Tee about the party, but you didn’t get far when he ended up walking through the door less than 10 minutes later. “Baby, where you at?”

“In here!” You forced a smile onto your face as he engulfed you into his fresh cucumber scented body. Probably showered at the facility. “We need to talk.” You both sit.

His face dropped and he slowly released you. “What’s up?”

“It’s not bad, it’s just we need to change our 7 month plans a bit.” You kissed your teeth.

He lets out a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding in, “that’s it. Damn baby you had me thinking this was it.” 

“No, no of course not.” You lean over and plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I would never break up with you like that, or ever. Especially if you didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“I mean there was that one dream you had.” His mouth twitched up.

“I’m a very vivid dreamer, I can’t help that. And blame that bitch from the club who tried to get in your pants.” 

“Ok what’s this about then?”

“Remember those end of school parties I told you about?” He nods. “Well my dad has invited us to his next one. It’s memorial day weekend in Miami.” 

His face shifts in realization, “I guess it’s time to tell Ocho.” He surveys the way you chew on your lips and wont meet his gaze. So he grabs your hands, pulls you into his arms and kisses your head. 

“Hey, I got you. Everything’s going to be fine, knowing your dad he’ll make a joke about it, maybe threaten me then we can have good time.”

You look up at him, “you think so?”

“I know so, baby.” You smile and pulls his lips to yours.

ੈ♡˳

You arrive at Miami Dade two days before the party and without your boyfriend, due to him having an early practice the next day. The 3 hour plane ride gave you lots of time to think of a way to break your big news to your dad without him popping a blood vessel or setting anything on fire. You decided to just break the news to him as gently as possible, give him small details then let Tee speak for himself. Sure is putting all the pressure on him a bit harsh, yes. But he asked you out in the first place, so who’s fault is it really? 

A little over a year ago.

It was your first official week in Cincinnati when Danielle, a long time friend of yours, suggested that you join her at a party that the guy she was seeing was throwing. Being so new to the city, you took her up on the offer so you could meet people. When you got to the party, it was covered in orange and black jerseys and it dawned on you that this wasn’t just some party.

“Dani, did you bring me to a Bengals victory party?”

The dark skinned woman removed her coat and smiled. The number 1 printed on the white fabric made you scoff. “I knew if I told you he was a football player, you’d find an excuse not to come.”

“You’re dating Ja’Marr Chase?” The bright smile painted on her lips couldn’t be wiped off even if tried.

“Yes, it's been 3 months and I really like him, so please just stay.” So you let the woman lead you further into the party.

Let’s be clear, your dad’s dumb rule didn’t cause your destain for the football culture, it was the fact that your entire life was centered around the sport. Dad’s a legend to the team, brother played just like him and it’s all anyone ever talked about. You stayed away from sport all together, it didn’t help when you majored in Biology to be a physical therapist, but you weren’t actually watching them play.

The party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, granted you spent most of the time standing by the bar carefully nursing your drink, but the vibes were nice. You’d already met most of the players on the team through your dad and work, so you weren’t surprised when Tee came up to you.

“Dr. Y/n Johnson, I thought you said I’d never see you outside the office.” He smiled discreetly looking you up and down.

“Uno’s dating my best friend.” You said nodding towards the couple on the dancefloor. “She dragged me here without telling me it was for y'all. But I guess congratulations are in order, AFC champs.”

“Oh you know, just another thing to be thankful for, just like you in that dress.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere Higgins, but buy me another drink and maybe I'll bite.”

“Anything for a few more minutes with your fine ass.”

ੈ♡˳

Minutes at the bar turned into hours on the phone then days just to see that charming smile, so yea flattery got him the world. 

Your phone buzzes knocking you out of your daydream.

Mean Ass Bitch: I've been in the airport pickup line for 10 minutes, where you at bitch?

LOML T💜: missed you when i got home mamas, call me when you get there 

You bite your lip hiding the grin that he put on your face as you click on his contact. It rings once before you hear that deep southern drawl come through. “There goes my baby.. How was ya flight baby?” 

There isn't a moment when you don’t feel the warmness in your chest and butterflies in your stomach when it comes to this man. The charm may have gotten him in the door, but it was his goodhearted, loving nature that gave him the key.

“Hi..it was good, I managed to get a nap in so that was nice.” 

“Only the best for my baby. How you feelin? I know your nerves been goin crazy.” 

Just as you were about to answer, you spotted your sister, your very mad sister. “Hold on babe, J looks like she wants to kill me.”

“All good, we can't have that. Call me when you can, I love you.”

“I love you more Tamaurice.” You smirk as you get to her car.

“You the only one allowed to say that, wouldn't be gettin away wit that shit if you weren't so beautiful.” His tone lacks the seriousness he implied as his light chuckles come through the phone.

“Sounds good to me, byeee.” You can’t help laughing as you hang up and put your bags in Cyra’s Audi. 

“I hope you ain’t laughing at me dying in this damn heat waitin for your slow ass.” She mean mugged as you ducked into the car. 

“Nah, it’s because you're dressed like goddamn big bird in that damn sweat suit.” You teased.

“I will kick you out of this car, quit playin’ bitch.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh as she pulls out of the airport traffic. “So how’s my gorgeous real estate queen big sis doing?”

“You know what, I’m good. Charmin’ rich people outta they money for some last leg beach houses that’ve seen one too many hurricanes. I’m very excited to get on this boat with a glass of champagne and just relax.” You nod along as she turns the radio on. “How’s the Tee and dad situation going?”

You take a deep breath and sink further into the seat, “I’ve decided to just let his presence speak for itself. They already know each other, but ‘Tee the wide receiver’ is very different from ‘Tee the man that’s dating his daughter’. I’ll try and ease the idea of him before he gets here, there’s no way I’m taking all the heat from this.”

She scoffed, “you just gon’ let your man take the fall?”

“He has said he’d do anything for me, so it probably won’t be that bad.” You shrugged.

“Yea ok Y/n, I can’t wait to see this blow up in your face.” 

ੈ♡˳

Walking into your dad’s house felt like going through a time capsule, he only bought it a few months ago but the walls and shelves were filled with pictures of us as kids and football memorabilia. “Dad she’s here.” Cyra sings taking your bag down the hallway that you hope has the rooms.

You find him in the kitchen arms deep in hamburger meat. “Uh oh Docta Johnson in the house. Come here and give your old man a hug.” Shaking you head, you humor him as much as you can without touching his hands.

“How you doing old man?”

“I’m alive, I’m happy and I’m excited to meet this boyfriend of yours. Where he at, did you tell him to wait outside? Baby you know I’m good.” He smiles as wide as he possibly can.

“I’m glad to hear it, but he’s not here yet. He has work so he’ll be flying out tomorrow night.” 

He smirks. “At least he has a job.”

Your jaw drops, “that was one time and you said you wouldn't bring it up again.” He chuckles as a frown builds on your face.

“I’m just playing, but this guy already sounds ten times better than what his name.. Jackson! Yea he was a leech.” 

“Okay, that enough boy talk. Want some help there?” You ask gesturing to the mountain of meat on the marble counter.

“I would love some, you always were the better cook. But don’t tell your sisters I said that.” He nods with a hushed voice.

You chuckle walking over to the sink. “You just did.” His brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean?” Chade and Jicyra tapped his shoulders from behind him. He eyes whitened out.

“What I meant was that Y/n’s good with protein heavy meals. Cy you make a mean salad and Chae you make the best cookies.” He smiled.

“Nice try, I do be throwin’ some flour around tho.” Chade remarks.

“Whatever, we’re off to buy some supplies for the party. Bye!” Then its just the two of you, in the kitchen seasoning about 20 lbs of meat and forming it into decent sized patties.

“So is there anything else I can squeeze out of you about this fine young black man? He is black right?”

You scoff, “what if he isn’t, what’d you say?”

“None, nothing. Your hair look too good for you to be dating a white man.” Your jaw drops for the second time today.

“I can’t. I don’t know why I’m helping you.”

“Aww my poor middle child.” You shove his arm causing him to get raw meat on his shirt. 

“Ok, I deserved that.” He nods, side eying you. “Don’t even try it.”

“You no fun. Come just tell me something about the guy.” 

You bite. “Fine, yes he’s black. He’s tall, kind, smart, sweet and I guess he’s pretty athletic.”

He hums, “athletic huh. What we talkin here NBA, NHL, FIFA?”

“I ain’t giving you no more, you’ll see him tomorrow and I’ll let him speak for himself.” You finish your part then walked out of the kitchen.

“I can read in between the lines Y/n! If Ja’Marr walks in this house tomorrow, I’m beating his ass!”

If he only knew how close he really was.

ੈ♡˳

You ended going out to dinner with your sisters when they got back. It was fun it being just being them, you could gossip and chit chat all you wanted without Ochocinco lurking around. Before bed you and Tee talked all about each other’s day and all the nerves about him meeting your dad. He reassured you that there was nothing he couldn’t handle and nothing your dad could say that changed how he felt about you. It felt good going to bed knowing your boyfriend had no worries about your relationship changing at all.

The next day was pretty chill, dad was too busy with the last minute preparations for the party. So you spent most of your time at the mall with your siblings. Your brother pretty much just groaned about the heat and the amount of time you spent in stores, but you reminded him plenty of times that he could go off on his own and he chose to stay. With that said the four of you had a pretty nice time. Until the ride home, when you could not get away from the Tee questions.

“Don’t you think its weird that they shared the same number and team?” Junior spent 20 minutes just going over the similarities between them like you hadn’t already known how odd it was.

“Jr leave her alone. How’s his stamina though?” Chade was the youngest, as anyone could probably tell with her bluntness.

“No sex questions please, this is a rental and Jr’s not afraid to blow chunks.” Cyra joked.

“Yall act like I don’t have sex.”

“Ok so would like to know what Matt and I did at your New Years Party?” Chade smirked. 

He eyes just about fell out of his head. “You and Matt? Matt my best friend? YOU AND MY BEST FRIEND FUCKED AT MY PARTY?”

That was the end of the questionnaire.

ੈ♡˳

The second you pulled into the driveway you noticed two things: your dad’s SUV was still absent and there was another random car by the curb. 

“Who’s that?” Cyra shrugged in response and just motioned you to get out. Normally someone would’ve taken offense to be thrown out of a car, but then your favorite person in the world got out of the other car.

“Damn, he is tall.” Jr’s comment was deaf to your ears as you ran over to your boyfriend.

“Hey babygirl.” He smiled wrapping his arms around you.

“What are you doing here? It’s only 4 and you weren’t supposed to land until 9. You know what I don’t care.” He lifts you onto the trunk of the vehicle so you’re eye to eye and guides your lips to his. Another feeling you could never get tired of, his plump lips against your glossy ones. Your arms wrap around his neck in an instant to pull him closer into you. You love being able to relinquish all control and just let him move you how he sees fit. He pecks your tropical scented lips once more before helping you down.

“Well that is an image I’m never getting out of my head.” Jr shakes his head and takes your bags out of the car. 

“Let’s go in the house so Y/n can properly introduce us to her beau.” You stay glued to his side as you make your way into the condo. 

As Junior rounds the corner to the bedrooms he stops in his tracks and the bags drop onto the floor.

“JUNIOR MY PERFUME!” Chade shoves him and grabs her bags. “Oh shit.”

Cyra being in no mood for their nonsense, pokes her head down the hall. “What the hell is wrong with you- hi daddy.” You shoot her a panicked look. She responds with an equally panicked shrug. The situation is impossible, there’s only one way to the living room and its to pass that very hallway. 

“This is not how this was supposed to happen.” You whine at the lowest voice you could manage. Which didn’t end up being that low in the end.

“How what’s supposed to happen?” Your dad’s voice bellows out. Tee squeezes your shoulder as the man walks into your view.

“Surprise?” 

He sighs. “Damn, I owe Junior some money.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You blink. All of sudden your brother bursts out laughing and starts dancing around your father.

“I told you! He had his mind set on you bringing either Ja’Marr or Burrow ‘as a wildcard’. I’m ten thousand dollars richer people.” 

“You bet ten racks on who she was dating! Dad I thought you were smarted than this.” Cyra expresses dumbfounded like the rest of you.

“Dad what the fuck? Is that why you wanted to know if he was black or not?” You rolled your eyes before walking past the man into the living room.

“Y/n it wasn’t like that-

“I don’t care, I’m just glad you lost your money to the dumbest person here.” 

His forehead creased, “Was that her way of calling me the new dumbest person?” Both of your sisters nodded. “Got it.”

Then Tee, still standing at the doorway, clears his throat. “Ocho.”

Your dad turns back towards him and pulls him into a ‘bro-hug’. “Well if it isn't the younger taller version of myself. I should’ve known it was you, not because of that but you didn’t exactly take your eyes off of her when she came down to that practice.”

Tee chuckled. “Couldn’t help it, man. I would’ve talked to you the last time you came to practice, but I was under strict instructions not to. When the love of your life tells you something, I make it habit to listen.” Chade nudges you as your face heats up.

“Love of your life huh? Glad to know she’s in good hands, and you have no excuses not to go for my records now. You got a physical therapist on speed dial.” They laugh together.

“See, I told you you were worried for nothing.” Cyra joins you on the couch. 

“Yea I gues you were right.” You mutter bringing a smirk to her face.

“I’m sorry what was that? Did The Dr. Y/n Johnson just admit that she was wrong.”

You pressed your lips together and got up. “You heard me or do you need an audiologist? Cause I can’t help you in that area, you’re just getting old.” You walked over to Tee, quickly grabbed his hand and ducked when a pillow came flying your way.

“Im only 2 years older than you bitch.” You cackled running down the hall to your room.

“Hey, no funny business in my house!” You shut the door and laid back against it trying to calm down while Tee sat on the bed studying you.

“What?” You walk over and stand between his legs.

“I like this side of you.” He sucks in his bottom lip scooting back on the bed.

“Yea, well I know a side you like even more.” You saying climbing onto his lap.

His hands go around your hips and cup your ass. “Oh I like this Y/n very much.” You push him back and place ghost kisses on his lips.

“Woman if you don’t- You go to give him a peck but lightly bite his lip instead. “Fuck.”

He closes the distance between you, sucking in your lips and licking into your mouth. 

Yea you had nothing to worry about at all.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

a/n: reblog if you like, comment or request any scenarios you'd like for me to write for our octopus lover♥︎

[dehvours]

Buckle up gamers! I've been going a bit ham the past few days to piece together my interpretation of FL & its relation to Chi/lde, Surtalogi/the Foul, the Abyss, Monoceros Caeli, + Celestia.

This is somewhat of a theory, but the intention is that it has been crafted for my rp blog. This is not created for the wider fandom, but purely my own muse's canon.

That being said: warning for 4.7 dain quest spoilers.

So. Here's what I'll be discussing:

Monoceros Caeli as his constellation & the Narwhal

The Fatui & the Tsaritsa's true purpose for him

Foul Legacy and Surtalogi/the Foul

Celestia, The Abyss, and Verdrfolnir's "prophecy" for Ch.ilde

Constellations in Teyvat are said to be one's "fate." Chi/lde's constellation, Monoceros Caeli, translates to 'celestial narwhal' and is a pretty clear reference to the All Devouring Narwhal. He inadvertently woke it when he first fell into the Abyss, and years later, he can hear it in the Primordial Sea when others cannot. He escapes prison to fight it again, for weeks on end, and, where my blog's canon is concerned, this fight brings him more in tune with Foul Legacy and his Abyssal nature.

The Narwhal itself is, as Neuvillette describes it, "a monster that has traversed the stars, weeping all the while." And Paimon says that Chi/lde "has a special connection with that whale."

So yes, his fate was to wake it up. And yes, his fate was to fight it again. But I think it is more than that.

First: translations of the Narwhal's name includes 'star swallowing whale', 'stars-devouring narwhal', and 'stellavorous (star eating) narwhal'. Star seems to be a very common theme here. You know what else has star themed name? Celestia. Specifically, it means heavenly, or of the sky. Bear with me, I'll tie those together.

Second: the game mechanic of constellations functions so that characters get stronger with each part of the constellation you unlock. I like to think of this as the character getting stronger along their journey. Story wise, this encounter with the Narwhal is, in effect, Chi/lde unlocking part of his constellation.

I think that yes, meeting the Narwhal and later fighting it is part of his fate, but I do not think that is all. The constellation represents his journey, and I think his journey is to, in essence, become a Narwhal. Not in a physical sense, per se, but that he will become a Celestial Narwhal.

The Narwhal is lonely. It travels the stars, always hungry, always in search of more. Its hunger drives it to the Primordial Sea, and it is the driving force behind the prophecy of Fontaine's destruction.

Ch/ilde is touched by the Abyss. Like the Narwhal, he is lonely, unable to understand and be understood by other humans. He is in search of battle to sate the hunger inside of him. I think his journey will drive him to Celestia, or rather, to be a driving force in its destruction. The Narwhal's theme of devouring stars, Celestia representing the heavens (the stars) and Chi/lde's constellation meaning Celestial Narwhal leads me to this: 

He will become Celestia's All Devouring Narwhal.

But right now? He is the Eleventh Harbinger. Strong, yes, but nowhere near as strong as say, Arlecch/ino, or one of the top three said to be on par with Archons. Arle even says he has a temperament ill-suited for a Harbinger. It was Pulcinella who found the young Ajax, fresh off beating the shit out of trained Fatui soldiers, Abyss tainted and hard to control. The Fatui already have plenty of strong fighters like Cap and Arle. They tend to work more in the shadows, in political scheming, which Ch.ilde is,, not a fan of, nor is he particularly suited for it. So why train him, spend all that time to make him a Harbinger, send him on all these missions?

That brings us to Surtalogi / The Foul, who keeps the Narwhal as a pet, Ski.rk's master, who was, in turn, Ch.ilde's master. Surtalogi was one of the five sinners of Khaenriah, said to wield "world shattering power." Chi.lde's Abyssal form is called "Foul Legacy" — legacy defined as "something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past". FL looks similar to the shadow within the narwhal, and it also uses similar attack moves and movement patterns.

This is why the Fa.tui have taken an interest in Ch.ilde. This is why the Tsaritsa has spent this much time and effort in 'honing' this weapon. This Foul Legacy, this Abyssal power he carries, is the key to the Tsaritsa's plans to overthrow Celestia. Why do you think she's moving now, instead of decades earlier? I believe it has something to do with Ch.ilde, and certain research (dare I say, project?) reaching a conclusion.

Taken from Ch.ilde's Boss entry:

"The pitch-black memory of stepping into uttermost darkness, shall, at last, become the strength by which you will overturn this world."

Chi.lde will be key in destroying Celestia. He will overturn the world, and the Heavenly Principles that govern it. And to do that, he will have to master his Abyssal power, and the power from Foul Legacy.

Ch.ilde will become the Monoceros Caeli.

[asoiaf-artbrdr]

Selyse Baratheon (of House Florent)

Lord Stannis scowled. "I do not beg. Of anyone. Mind you remember that, woman."

"I am pleased to hear it, my lord." Lady Selyse was as tall as her husband, thin of body and thin of face, with prominent ears, a sharp nose, and the faintest hint of a mustache on her upper lip. She plucked it daily and cursed it regularly, yet it never failed to return. Her eyes were pale, her mouth stern, her voice a whip. She cracked it now. "Lady Arryn owes you her allegiance, as do the Starks, your brother Renly, and all the rest. You are their one true king. It would not be fitting to plead and bargain with them for what is rightfully yours by the grace of god.

"God, she said, not gods. The red woman had won her, heart and soul, turning her from the gods of the Seven Kingdoms, both old and new, to worship the one they called the Lord of Light. - Clash, Prologue

.

"Your own wife begs as well, lord husband." Queen Selyse went down on both knees before the king, hands clasped as if in prayer. "Robert and Delena defiled our bed and laid a curse upon our union. This boy is the foul fruit of their fornications. Lift his shadow from my womb and I will bear you many trueborn sons, I know it." She threw her arms around his legs. "He is only one boy, born of your brother's lust and my cousin's shame."

"He is mine own blood. Stop clutching me, woman." King Stannis put a hand on her shoulder, awkwardly untangling himself from her grasp. "Perhaps Robert did curse our marriage bed. He swore to me that he never meant to shame me, that he was drunk and never knew which bedchamber he entered that night. But does it matter? The boy was not at fault, whatever the truth." - Storm, Davos V

Shireen Baratheon

"It's me and Patches, Maester." Guileless blue eyes blinked at him. Hers was not a pretty face, alas. The child had her lord father's square jut of jaw and her mother's unfortunate ears, along with a disfigurement all her own, the legacy of the bout of greyscale that had almost claimed her in the crib. Across half one cheek and well down her neck, her flesh was stiff and dead, the skin cracked and flaking, mottled black and grey and stony to the touch. "Pylos said we might see the white raven."

"Indeed you may," Cressen answered. As if he would ever deny her. She had been denied too often in her time. Her name was Shireen. She would be ten on her next name day, and she was the saddest child that Maester Cressen had ever known. Her sadness is my shame, the old man thought, another mark of my failure. - Clash, Prologue

.

"You? They said you were young, but …" Queen Selyse's face was pinched and pale. She wore a crown of red gold with points in the shape of flames, a twin to that worn by Stannis. "… you may rise, Lord Snow. This is my daughter, Shireen."

"Princess." Jon inclined his head. Shireen was a homely child, made even uglier by the greyscale that had left her neck and part of her cheek stiff and grey and cracked. "My brothers and I are at your service," he told the girl.

Shireen reddened. "Thank you, my lord." - Dance, Jon IX

.

A two for one! Unfortunately I cannot make greyscale in artbreeder - at least, not as of yet. I have managed to represent Sandor’s scarring to some degree but with artbreeder, as you adjust the morph in one direction, it messes with everything else! It seemed more important to focus on the family resemblance in this portrait. I hope to edit greyscale in at a later point to this portrait, or perhaps paint her with that addition.

[cryoqi]

all i wanted — paramore ━━━━━━with childe.

songs that make us want to fall in love. 

in 1.3k words.

tags angst to fluff, mentions of physical contact, gn! reader, reader is not traveler.

Several years ago, he met a golden-haired traveler accompanied by a small, pixie-like girl who berated him for how silly his love letter sounded. He didn’t mean for them to read it, but he wanted them to hold on to the letter as he fought off several Treasure Hoarders that came across their pathway onto Liyue Harbor, where he was to send the letter off into your hands. By the time he returned to the two, the letter remained unscathed just as he was, only being short of breath for just a few seconds. 

“We read your love letter,” the pixie stated, almost like it was a taunt. The traveler beside her didn’t say much except that it was written nicely, that to whomever it was being written would understand him completely, to feel as he felt. Childe gave his warmest thanks. 

“Hey!” she exclaimed, hands on her hips, “I thought it was pretty cheesy. I mean, it started out like…

“To the one I love, 

Know that I am constantly looking forward to the day I return home, the one I have always claimed as my home alone—in your arms, where the both of us are safe and sound. Know that I am here in Liyue Harbor, always thinking of you, wondering if you’re thinking of me too.

I wish I could bring you here with me. There’s so many things to see, and to do, and neither of us would ever get bored. If your parents ever let you travel outside of Snezhnaya, I know a great place for us to sit down at night and look up at the stars. I know you’d always dreamed of looking up at a clear sky, where no clouds could hinder your view of the world above us, and trust me—it’s absolutely beautiful. 

I heard the famed Lantern Rite Festival of Liyue is dawning upon us. Only the archons know if I’ll be able to attend. After all, duty calls. Though, if I do get to write my wish on a lantern, there’s one thing I’m wishing for, and no, I can’t tell you or else it won’t come true. 

I’ve got to leave for now. I’ll be sure to see you again soon. 

Say hello to my family for me.

I love you,

Ajax”

He always ended his letters like that. 

It’s been several years since you received a letter from him, and you decided to read the last one he’d sent while cleaning your bedroom. All of the letters he sent were kept in a box he found while on one of his journeys, given to you as a souvenir. 

You hadn’t realized the grin on your face that was clearly evident to anyone passing by your open room, one of which being Tonia, Ajax’s younger sister. She’d grown so much since the last time you saw her, and while your smile was one written by nostalgia, hers was of excitement. She gently held onto the doorframe, peering into your room. 

“Tonia! I didn’t expect to see you here,” you said. Pushing the letters aside, you stood up to welcome her into your room, but she stayed put by the door. 

“Your father let us in,” she commented. “Everyone’s in the living room, and there’s someone waiting for you.” 

Someone… You didn’t want to admit that you really hoped it was Ajax. After all, you hadn’t heard from him in years, and at that point it was safe to presume he was dead from whatever violent work he involved himself with, the kind he chose to disclose with you the day he left. With every passing day after you saw the door close in front of you, you couldn’t tell if your love for him grew stronger or weaker. 

With love, there was no way of telling, but one day, everything went mute, that you knew for sure. All those memories you had of you and Ajax played in your mind like static; nothing was there. Maybe it was like a final thread had snapped, causing everything to fall apart, but to you it was akin to a wearing away of a rock, where little by little, time and time again, everything you felt for him slowly diminished. 

However, when you walked into the living room and saw him sitting in the chair that you always sat in, talking with your family like a day hasn’t passed since he left, you almost wanted to drop to your knees. Blood rushed to your cheeks and feelings rushed into your heart, and all that you could manage to say was, “You’re back.”

He turned to you, wearing that same charming smile you first fell in love with. 

“I’m home.”

—

The fireplace was warm outside, and the blankets over you and him did much to preserve the heat, but you wished that you could bring him back into your bedroom, holding him in your arms. Though, you knew there was a distance between the two of you and after all those years you couldn’t just simply bring him into close quarters. Thus, the two of you were left outside to catch up on all that time lost. 

It was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. 

“Did you receive my letters?” 

You nodded. “Yes, I did.” 

Ajax chuckled. “Ah, so you must remember about the time I met that traveler, right? Two of ‘em, the traveler and a little… fairy girl. Challenged them both to a fight, but the traveler was awfully strong. Impressed me a lot, and I had to use my Foul Legacy Transformation.” 

“I never read anything about that.” You hadn’t received any letters concerning a traveler and a fairy, but you knew the kind of toll that transformation had on his body. You looked up from your lap, where your hands lay fiddling their fingers, and at him. In that instance, the exhaustion written on his face was so evident and you knew just how much he’d been through. 

You moved closer to him, though with caution, but when your hand came to rest upon his shoulder in attempts to comfort him, he winced at your touch. Then, you knew just exactly how much he had been hurting— physically, at least. Childe knew you would never come to understand the yearning he had gone through in the time he was away from you. Time and time again, being seduced by his unruly subordinates, he pushed them all away, only keeping you in his heart. You’re all he could ever want. 

He was so vulnerable under your fingertips, and it reminded you of all the times he was able to shed a single tear in your arms, to let you run your fingers through his hair, everything. You thought you wanted to cry with how fragile he seems to be. So, you pressed a kiss down on his shoulder. It’s light, and it’s airy, and it resembled the fluttering of your heart. 

Again, you looked up at him. He had a dark gaze, but he’s always had that kind of stare, but you could tell that in the depth of those blue eyes he was quietly pleading for you to heal him, even if just by means of those light, peppered kisses. You brought his hand to your lips, pressing them against each of their knuckles. They were no longer kisses. Rather, they were the press of your lips against his skin, the physical touch being all that you could muster in yourself to tell him, “I missed you very much.”

Maybe if rocks can be eroded down into pebbles, those same pebbles can be made into a statue built over time. Even if a tiny one at that, you think that with every day Ajax has returned home, you could rebuild your love for him. 

[shadowtongued]

long headcanon about the duality of love and the mahjarrat condition pertaining to it from his point of view. if you read all this babble i swear to god, i love you, i hope you have a good day. cw: sex addiction, child neglect, unhealthy coping, unrequited pains. reason for writing: hi i want to die bc of angst.

i think we all know even without playing medieval xp grind lore game, runescape, that sliske is old. very old. he tells us in endgame there's not much he hasn’t done with his life over thousands of years, even traveling to other planets and realms to just see what was out there and how far he could get. i’ve always projected his age as somewhere between more than 8,000 or even more than 10,000. we’re never given a timeline to how long the children of mah have lived. sliske has done a lot with his time; he’s killed a god, had quite a few elder relics in his grasp, SPOKEN to a elder god and managed not to die, mastered shadow magicks, has an excellent grasp on the shadow realm. he’s good with biology, chemistry, has a fair understanding of soul magic which is kind of a rare brand of knowledge, he’s tricked probably thousands into bad contracts to become wights in his army, understands the psychology and bad morals of people. he was a playwright, a high ranking officer, a spymaster. dude is just a determined polymath. you know what he hasn’t done? love. he’s never got to play with love.

mahjarrat are explained as having emotions, but dulled ones. they feel rage and pride apparently better than others. kharshai said after years of really believing he was a human, that when he came back to his true form he states “i  feel raw power coursing through my veins. i don't feel pain like i used to, and i'm sure my intellect has increased. but somehow there is something missing. a capacity for emotion that i can't quite put my finger on.” they aren’t equipped for the same range of positive emotions as others are. they feel it, but they don’t understand it fully, it has been said by developers. this whole bit is sadly funny considering in canon, sliske catches feelings. he doesn’t realize he’s attracted to the player character. it’s stated many times, in his journals, in dialogue, etc. he believes their fates are tangled no matter what. and the saddest bit is he probably doesn’t understand these feelings and it confuses him to the point of anger.  “ love! a mahjarrat in love? ... i almost wish that were true. it would certainly make the universe a more interesting place. ” “ so perhaps i have loved you. but that doesn’t mean i have to like you.”  sliske’s main goal started off as to take the players immortal, unable to be crushed by the divine, soul and give it to himself so he could live forever, as mahjarrats do not have afterlives, once they die they are done, evaporated into energy. but in endgame we learn something from him hidden in masks that refutes that;

“I love you for more than your soul.”

you STUPID fucker, you’re in love.

the remainder of this is a lot of NON-CANON, personal headcanon interpretation that pretty much only works on this blog. as a rough summary: sliske’s ol’ mum was not fond of her kids, half-brother wahisietel or sliske since she did not see them as powerful as herself and was disappointed that's what her legacy came out to. a short, beefy, average at magic son, she had another go and was still disappointed with this spidery, scrawny, gifted but absolutely annoying stick underweight child. his father, saw him once or twice in his life and that was it. dyeosuthua wanted nothing more than to make them disappear and try again until she got offspring she didn’t want to throw into a lava pit in secrecy, infanticide was against tribal law due to population issues. sliske’s mother’s neglect was so severe, ( by the absolute boundless joys of rp development and mutual heacanons ♥ ) that wahi and nabor had an attempt at raising him and keeping him from freezing to death. why is all this jargon important? because while all mahjarrats are raised by tough love, sliske’s attention deprivation from his mother was so severe, he grew up and still has a slew of reactive attachment, psychological, and social issues he still carries as an adult. several times she threatened to kill him and almost made good on it more than twice. when wahisietel had proven he was a survivor of the first ritual of rejuvenation, sliske became dyeosuthua’s  main target for abuse despite his gift for magic at a young age. nothing he did could impress her enough. and it left him constantly seeking approval and validation to an insecure mind.

the more he grew, the more confident he became mainly out of spite and to get attention. he’s loud, charming, makes you the only person in the room when he talks to you. he has an innate silver-tongued ability that persuades people to do just about anything. it was a front for his insecurities that he kept very very closed up. in the second age/senntisten capital, sliske had a pretty severe sex addiction as it was one of the few ways he felt validated and was able to get affection in a way he could digest. people with reactive attachment disorders often have sex addictions to fill the space of acceptance without having to commit.. easy, feel good intimacy without having to open up and let someone learn about your vulnerabilities and commit. it was pretty severe, considering mahjarrats find any kind of breeding or intimacies outside their ‘superior species’ as downright foul. sliske had always been the black sheep of the tribe and with his status as praefectus praetorio; head of secret police, really nothing put a damper on him trying to fill the void for affection he had. there wasn’t a species or individual he wouldn’t bed. he would easily take up propositions even for people who just wanted to fuck a mahjarrat because it was ‘exotic’ or because of his status as an officer, he now looks back on this and it bruises his insecurities even more that he allowed himself to do that. not out of pride for his species. but himself, being just a thing to be had because of rarity. azzanadra and his brother, wahisietel found out about it and while disgusted, partially understood what he was doing to negatively self soothe. at one point sliske and azzanadra, the champion of their god and head of the church, as well of one of the strongest living of their kin, had a lasting tryst for a few years and for awhile it made sliske feel very much self important in a way and alleviated his need to be needed so badly, this did not end well when sliske grew tired of their empire and wanted freedom. once childhood best friends and lovers had become absolute enemies once sliske became too unstable and azzanadra became too zealous. 

sliske gave up his sexcapades for a long time, thousands of years, his libido dropped when he became interested in other projects and self healing when he was hit with the idea that he hasd essentially allowed himself to be an exotic fling and still burned over becoming his god, zaros, scapegoat after all he had done for him. love was a weird concept to him and still is. despite being adamant love doesn’t exist for his kind, and his belief that he is flawed, unstable, and embraced the idea of ‘you want a monster? fine! i’ll be the monster!’. he expects no pity, not be forgiven to things he has done and even in game when you sycophantically try to cozy to him, he straight up calls out your text choice was awful considering some of the shitty things he might have done to you. to sliske, all attention to him is attention, whether you’re praising or insulting him. he’s on your mind, he exists, that’s all he wants.

backstory aside the real part of this headcanon is that sliske actually wants love. it’s the only thing aside from an immortal soul he hasn’t had. sliske actually has an attraction to humans because they are empathetic, curious, passionate, and determined. he has an easier time assimilating and being around them since he has ALWAYS had a better sense of humor, socializing, and happiness than his kin. he feels emotions a lot stronger than his fellow mahjarrats. it allows him to talk to and connect to humans and humanlike species better. others of his kind have told him there’s “something wrong” with him for that. he’s actually a romantic, even if he’s just mimicking romance stories, movies, and actions from others. he thinks the idea of settling with one person and loving them is both mortifying and interesting. opening yourself up to someone and giving them the hammer to smash your cherry-red painted porcelain heart and seeing if they do, to him might be the ultimate form of trust and biggest gamble of russian roulette. the stakes are so heavy he’s high on the idea. but it’s also horrifying. mahjarrat are prolific for not opening up, not allowing others in, vulnerability out in the open is a death sentence. they live in a kratocracy/meritocracy where they kill off the weakest link. it’s not pretty. being soft is a useless, unnecessary, weak gene to them. it dampers survival. 

but yet sliske keeps reading romance novels, writing his own confused poetry, and getting into unrequited one sided loves but practicing a backstabbing betrayal when one gets too close. i have to hurt them before they hurt me, betray and cut them down before they can do it to me. i think he wants to be loved. i think he kinda wants to be taught to love, for the emotions and the sake of knowledge. ( brb james newton howard’s ‘true love’s kiss’ from maleficent just came on spotify and i think i’m going to die bc i did not ask for background music thanks!!! ) he wouldn’t be the best at it, maybe a little too possessive with you, codependent, but very nurturing and fun loving. will sepnd a whole week spooning you.. people who hurt you past, present, and future may end up dead in mysterious ways or turned into a wight for you to beat the shit out of. but he’d try. he’s still got a broken child sitting behind his third rib. i think he would snarl the first few times someone genuinely got close to him, it would terrify him, being known on such a skinned, raw level. having gentle touches that are real and not a come hither to the bedroom. being known for something other than the confident, ego he has is death. he could be taught to be gentle for a crumb of consistent attention. might even cut down the murders and god killing down by 15%. love is not going to fix him, it’s not going to forgive the actual shitty things he’s done. it should never do that. but it will turn the lights on in a dark house.

love could really break him. i think so. i’d type more but this has gone on too long and i feel sad-happies. 

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chp. 19

"When I first saw you You had a sparkle in your eye Like the stars at night High in the sky

How I wish That you were mine 'Cause to me You're one of a kind

When I look at you It seems so untrue How someone like you Can make me feel the way you do"

Cameo—"Sparkle"

"Erik, you here with us, man?"

Walter's keen dark eyes took in Erik's solemn face as they sat in a popular and busy diner on Pico and La Brea eating pancakes and thick cuts of Canadian bacon. Maria and his Aunt Shavonne shared nail care tips to prevent chipping as his Uncle Bakari cut up his food and ate with a contented face.

Erik pushed circles in the maple syrup on his plate and checked the thin cell phone near his half-empty cup of coffee. Devika still wouldn't return the ten or so texts he sent her.

"My mind is scattered, sorry."

Devika ignoring him, and Tony being cryptic had him on edge. He deleted messages from Giselle and Athena wanting another Ménage a Trois encore and looked Walter in the face.

"You still trippin' about earlier?" Walter asked.

"Nah. I'm over that. It's just…I was foul with that and I hurt my girl."

"Your girl? Which one?" Walter joked.

"Shut up," Erik said giving his friend a grin.

Walter's braided hair was pulled up into a palm tree bun.

"My dude, you've always been messy. Nothing's changed. You've leveled up though."

"Leveled up? I ain't never been with any questionable…"

He almost said hoes, but his Uncle was listening.

Walter leaned in closer and whispered.

"You did them both at the same time?"

Erik gave a subtle nod.

"Man…"

Walter chuckled and ate more bacon on his plate.

Erik glanced at his cell again.

"Expecting a call?" Bakari asked.

"Nah. Just checking for work messages. Sometimes Stark sends mass alerts. Gotta keep on top of stuff there. Even on the weekends."

"You look good. We're proud that you stuck with it," Bakari said.

"It turned out better than I thought," Erik said.

His stomach got tight and Maria glanced over at him. He caught her eyes sliding over to Walter.

"How's school man? We spent all this time talking about my internship, what's poppin' back home?" Erik asked.

"I quit."

Walter popped his last piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Walter!" Shavonne scolded.

"Why?" Erik asked.

"It's not for me. School was always your forte man, and I know my parents wanted me to be like you, but my talents are in fashion…textiles."

"Are you a designer?" Maria asked.

"Yeah, I am," Walter said holding her gaze, "I dropped out of SFSU and enrolled in the Fashion Institute. Going to start my own brand of sportswear. Merge tech and clothing together."

"Dope," Erik said giving Walter a pound.

"Call my parents and tell them that," Walter said.

"When we were in grade school, this fool designed bullet-proof clothing for elementary kids," Erik said pushing back his plate.

"A lot of shootings were going down, and I wanted to stay safe."

"That's, wow…that's kind of sad," Maria said.

"That's how it be in the East Bay sometimes," Walter said.

"Everywhere," Shavonne chimed in.

"I start in the fall and I have already lined up my own internship with Trekfit. They're new, hungry, and I can parlay my talents into maybe getting my own stuff out in three or four years."

Erik and Walter shared a joke in Korean and Maria watched them both.

"You speak Korean?" Maria asked Erik.

"Passable—"

"Barely," Walter said.

"Good luck with the educational changes," Bakari said. He stared at his watch, "Are we all ready to hang out at the pier?"

Bakari drove them all in a rental car, and Erik found himself sitting in the middle of a conversation between Walter and Maria. They had only been together for two hours but they already acted like an old married couple. Divisive opinions on anime, gaming, and sticky rice flew across his lap since he sat in between them in the back seat.

The weather was almost perfect, a little too hot as the temperature raised above eighty degrees, but Erik enjoyed strolling on the pier and talking with his Aunt and Uncle. Maria and Walter had paired off to ride the carousel and Erik kept checking his phone.

"Just call her," Bakari said.

His Uncle snacked on chocolate and vanilla soft serve ice cream as his Aunt Shavonne tried to shoot fake ducks for prizes with water guns.

"I saw how she looked at you when she stood at the door. I damn near had a flashback to your Pappy back in school. You actually had the same look on your face. What's her name?"

"Devika."

"You sure do like 'em grown," Bakari said winking at Erik.

"Everyone is older than me there, so I don't really have control over that."

"Walter is right too, those were some boss looking babes. The legacy continues."

"It is what it is Unc. But I didn't mean for that to happen. I was supposed to go see her last night and I just…messed up."

"Protecting yourself?"

"Always."

"Respecting them?"

"Yeah."

"But this Devika?"

"I got caught up and forgot to communicate with her. I wasn't expecting her to show up like that. I'm actually not supposed to be seeing her."

"Why not?"

"She's um…she's Stark's secretary."

"Erik…boy, I tell ya…"

Bakari ate his ice cream and Erik watched his Uncle's face.

The man was heavier in the face and body, and he was happy with Shavonne because it shone all over his face when he looked at her. His uncle treated his wife the way Erik's father treated his mother. Like they were one of a kind. And that was true. He learned how to treat women from his Dad and Bakari. His uncle raised him for six years a couple of years after Erik's parents died. Bakari gave Erik a foundation to rebuild his life when he floundered in the streets and foster care. His uncle begged his Grandpop to give him guardianship so Erik could leave Oakland and be somewhere that wouldn't remind him of the pain he suffered. It worked.

His aunt and uncle made sure Erik stayed connected to Walter and even his friend Shawn whom he met in juvenile hall. Flew them both out every summer and made sure they traveled to Martha's Vineyard for vacations and also allowed him to go to Brazil yearly to visit his cousin Marisol. They gave him life again, and he was eternally grateful. They also made sure to remind him of the special bond his parents had, and if Erik had the same romantic tendencies of his father, Bakari constantly reflected on honest communication.

Devika was beginning to feel special to him, and he couldn't understand how he could be so careless with her. All he had to do was call her and say he was spending some time with the other women and…

He had no real excuse or reason for his behavior. He did want to see her. Craved her even, especially with Tony Stark telling him what he couldn't have. But pitchers of Margaritas and pretty faces hemmed him up. The sex was everything, but now he regretted it.

"I like her Unc. She's been good to me the entire time I was here. She's fine. Smart. I don't know why I fucked up. Sorry for cussing."

"Young people make mistakes."

Erik put his phone away. He wanted to focus on his family.

The rest of his weekend was pleasant and he spent much-needed quality time with Bakari and Shavonne.

Walter spent quality time with Maria.

It was all good.

###

Erik picked out his best new blue suit to wear to Stark's office. Whatever was going down would happen with him looking his best.

He had a fresh line up and brand-new cologne. Eyes tracked him in the lobby of the Stark building and even Valentina did a double-take when she saw him walk past her on his way to the private elevator.

His confidence faded once he reached Stark's floor and he saw Devika through the glass office walls.

Damn that woman beautiful.

She wore thick wash and go curls all over her head, and her make-up was smoky and smooth like her skin. Erik took a deep breath and walked into the room.

"I'm here for Stark's eight—"

"Go in, he's expecting you."

She cut him off without looking at him. He stepped closer to her desk.

"Devika—"

"He's waiting for you."

"I don't have a good excuse. I'm sorry."

Her eyes finally took his in.

"Don't worry about it. We're good."

"It doesn't feel good. You wouldn't even talk to me this weekend."

"You were with family, remember?"

He chewed on his lip trying to keep himself from saying something smart ass to dig at her. He was shocked at how much he wanted her forgiveness. Anyone else he would be tossing to the side like, "Oh well", and then be on to his next conquest, but Devika snuck up on him emotionally. While he had been busy chasing after Giselle and falling in easily with Athena, Devika was just…there. Always there.

All the little things she did for him, the corny jokes they shared each time he was called up to see Stark…reminders to eat or drink water. The donuts to keep his blood sugar up when he worked late…she was a constant source of calm for him during the entire internship. He would be crushed if she iced him for the rest of his time there.

"Just tell me this, is Boss Man about to kick me out?"

"What are you talking about?"

"He called me after you left my apartment and told me my time in the internship was over."

Devika's nose crinkled up and her eyes were full of confusion.

"I haven't heard any talk about putting you out."

That made Erik breathe easier. Devika was the pulse of Stark. Right after Pepper, Devika knew the man better than he knew himself.

"Devika, have you heard from Stevens yet?"

Stark's voice came through on the desk intercom.

"He's walking in now."

She pushed him toward the door.

Entering, Erik was surprised to see Janine and two other upper-level suits sitting in the room.

"Take a seat," Stark said pointing to the only available chair in front of his desk.

Erik unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down with his legs wide apart. Stark fussed with a small touchpad and then finally stared Erik.

"How do you think you've done here, Stevens?" he asked.

Erik's eyes flitted to the other three people next to him and their eyes didn't shy away from his. No one looked down or fidgeted with their hands. Good sign thus far.

"Excellent." Erik shot back at him.

"Excellent? You sure?"

"Yeah. My last eval was stellar. Janine can tell you that. She wrote it up."

A smirk went across Janine's face.

"Do you want to add any addendums to that, Janine?"

Stark folded his hands in his lap and leaned back in his chair.

"No, Sir. The eval speaks for itself."

"Good. Stevens, I'm pulling you from the internship and placing you in the Stark Fellowship starting today. The Fellowship runs for a year and at the end of that year you will be offered a position with Stark Enterprises—"

"Wait, I start M.I.T. next month."

"M.I.T. is willing to defer your entry for next year. You are still a full-ride scholar."

"I would take what he is offering, Erik," Janine said. For once her eyes looked gentle.

Erik sat back in his chair.

Stark's eyes regarded him with amusement.

"Every intern in this entire building would give me their first-born child for the offer I just gave you. And yet you sit here like a lump."

"I appreciate the offer. I just want some time to think about it."

"Think about it?"

One of the suits glared at him.

"Unbelievable," the haughty suit grumbled.

"There's a paid salary, so you'd have to get your own place. No more Oakwood. You'd work directly with me and there will be a lot of travel, covered by the company of course. You have been a stellar young man. The last person to have this opportunity now runs one of my satellite offices in Hong Kong. It's a great opportunity and I want you to have it."

"How much is the salary?"

Tony pushed a blue and silver folder across his desk. Erik picked it up.

"That much, huh? With benefits…health/dental. Paid gym membership…"

Erik's eyes read the offer to the very bottom.

Why not?

Take advantage of being at the side of one of the most powerful and influential men on the planet. Get paid for it, and get access to tech that could help him figure out the vibranium he had stashed in his apartment.

"I'll do it."

"Wise decision young man."

Stark stood up and held out his hand. Erik gripped it firmly.

"Welcome aboard, Stevens. I'll have H.R. get paperwork set up and we'll get you transferred over tomorrow. You'll report to me in the Cypress meeting room tomorrow at ten a.m. I need you to pack up clothing for a week because you are coming with me to Monaco after the Intern party on my yacht."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Janine, say your goodbyes now, I'm stealing him from you," Stark said.

Janine stood up and gave Erik her hand.

"Keep up the exceptional work," she said.

"If you'll excuse us, Stevens, I need to meet with these folks. We'll talk tomorrow. Clear out your things from Janine's and go see Happy in security to get new clearance."

"Okay."

Erik took the folder with him and walked out of the office.

Devika worked on her laptop and her eyes flickered over to his when he stepped back into the outer office.

"I was offered a new position for a year," Erik said.

A smile. A slight one, but he caught it on her face.

"Congratulations," she said keeping her voice cool.

"I have to go gather my stuff from Janine's floor."

He turned away from her.

"Erik."

"Yeah?"

Devika reached into the large bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a bag of donuts for him. He took them from her.

"You worked your ass off all summer. You deserve this opportunity, Erik."

"Thanks."

They stared at one another. Her eyes took in his suit and there was a twinkle in those dark irises. All he could think of was that glorious weekend he spent with her after he got his ass kicked in her home.

He held the donuts up toward her.

"Thanks for this. You're always looking out for me."

"Better get going…get that desk cleared out," she said.

There was awkward staring once more.

What he would give to be brave and kiss her right there at her desk.

"He's taking me to Monaco with him…what was that look for?" he said.

Devika shook her head.

"What?" Erik pushed.

"Monaco is…well, Monaco is a place where Tony tends to get a little wild."

"Is it that bad?"

"No, but it's a playground for the ultra-rich, and the ultra-rich are very different from the basic rich. Put it this way. Millionaires are the double-wides of that set. Multi-millionaires are the working class. The lower working class."

"It's like that, huh?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Maybe you should give me lessons on how to maneuver that world."

"You don't give up, do you?"

He smiled at her and she rolled her eyes.

He walked away from her desk and took a big bite of a hot glazed twist once he was in the elevator headed down to his work-station.

His cell vibrated in his jacket pocket. Taking it out he checked for Stark Alerts. There was only one personal text.

"You are forgiven."

He didn't bother to text her back.

Rushing back up to Stark's outer office and Devika's desk, he grabbed her hand.

"Erik! What are you doing?"

Devika's startled face made him smile.

"Taking you to breakfast, and then we're going back to your place. I have some making up to do."

Chapter 20 HERE.

###

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[the-stars-shine-with-me]

“That’s a lot of glaze lilies. You attending another funeral already, (Y/n)?”

She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. “Very funny! No, these are for Zhongli. He asked me to get him some for the parlor... probably because he’s still adjusting to not having much mora.”

Childe thumbs the jade he just purchased between his fingers. “Oh really? Why are you still running errands for him? He’s not one of the seven anymore you know.”

“Uh, well, that’s true but we’re still friends.” She says, frowning. He follows her with a casual gait as she leads the way across the boardwalk, her heels making a satisfying click as they hit the wood. “It’s not like what happened changes nothing, and I didn’t appreciate him making a pawn out of me either, but his intentions were good so...”

She finishes with a shrug. Something about her easy, casual forgiveness of Zhongli bothers him. It had taken weeks, and the arrival of his adorable younger brother, for him to win back just the ability to talk to her without getting glared at.

They climb the stairs up to the main city and she doesn’t elaborate. Fuck it.

“What about me?” He finally asks.

“What about you?” She parrots back, airily enough that he can tell he’s going to hit a nerve.

“Are we still friends?”

“... It’s nice that you care for your family, like I do. But you summoned a whale on top of me. Tartaglia.”

“Aw come on, I know you had fun fighting me.” The heat of battle always got him excited, but between him and her there had been something different, a kind of thrilling, charged tension that had nothing to do with the electricity in the air, or the usual demonic energy that thrummed inside when he used Foul Legacy. And he knew he saw it mirrored in her own eyes as they had exchanged blows. “I was never going to use lethal force, I told you that. Not my style. So you never were really in any danger from me.”

(Y/n) scoffs, and stops mid step to pivot on her foot and extend the blue flowers to point in his face like a sword. “You are so...! Don’t forget that you lost that fight, Tartaglia. But yes, despite you giving me a really hard time that day, the vast depths of my kind heart have found the space to forgive you, for now.”

“Th-“

She cuts him off before he can say anything else, shaking the closed blue buds pointedly. “-But that does not mean you’re the type of friend I’d buy flowers for.”

He gives her a brief, closed eyed smile and gently flicks the flowers away from him. A shadow passes over his face. “But you’ll buy them for Zhongli. He was the one who orchestrated this entire little play, including me. Why does he get a pass? Do you like him?”

“What?!? No!” (Y/n) puffs up angrily and stalks up the stairs faster. Childe has no problem keeping pace right at her side, even if she wanted to shake him off. “And even if I did, so what?”

She’s blushing. The prospect of her, liking Zhongli, is flustering her. Childe all of a sudden really wants to fucking burn those flowers to a crisp.

“I would be disappointed.” He says.

“I don’t care about what you think.” She says, refusing to look at him. “... Why would it matter to you who I like anyways?”

“I just thought you had higher standards.”

“Higher standards?” (Y/n) asks incredulously. Zhongli is a god, immortal adeptus even without his gnosis. How could her standard be higher than a god. “Like who?”

Me. He wants to say. But he doesn’t.

“I wonder. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. I have important stuff I need to do.” Childe says. It’s true. He is an important, capable, busy person.

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Bye.” It’s irritating how she shoos him off as if he’s a bug, but he holds his head high as he takes his leave.

Curse Signora. It was probably her idea to have the Tsaritsa trick him in the first place. What he wouldn’t give to have been the one to pry the gnosis from Zhongli’s hands instead.

~~~

(Y/n) is frustrated. As if her conflicted relationship with the eleventh Fatui harbringer wasn’t confusing enough, she had to deal with all these... hormones, on top of it.

She’d been attracted to him the moment she saw him, but it hadn’t been like this. It hadn’t been like this until after their battle at the Golden House. Something about them had changed during that battle. She had been scared, but also excited, and the feeling had only risen as they had crossed blades and thrown everything they had at each other.

It was a exhilarating catharsis, she had enjoyed giving that battle everything she had, not having to hold back at all. And then he’d grown twice his size, turned all dark and sharp, and dangerous... the curiousity of what his face looked like behind that full mask was haunting her.

Normally she would just imagine some nice things and touch herself in private when tending to her occasional libido. But ever since the battle, she’d been horny every night, and in the morning when she woke up. Imagining him pinning her down, dominating her, and even worse than that: touching her, kissing her, hugging her, petting her, praising her.

(Y/n) had a huge crush on the guy who had singlehandedly almost destroyed the entire harbor city and gleefully thrown her through the floor. He was dangerous, but she wanted to be special and precious to him. She couldn’t think of a worse person to want as a boyfriend.

Childe was right. She really did have low standards.

The fact that she acknowledged that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to buy a glass phallus from Ying’er’s secret shop and spend the night spoiling herself to amorous thoughts of him in the privacy of the four walls of an inn tonight rather than out camping on the ground.

“Here you are darling. Don’t forget to use the contents of the bottle first, okay?” Ying’er hands her a pretty, discreet purple silk bag that skillfully hides the shape of the objects inside.

“I won’t. Thanks.” She says, trying not blush at the woman’s ever-suggestive tone as she pays for the goods with a pouch of mora.

The night air is pleasantly cool against the bare nape of her neck, but she doesn’t linger on her way to the inn. It would be so embarrassing to be caught with items like these by somebody, especially someone who knows her. Being careful not to get caught always makes her feel like someone is watching her, including now, as she walks briskly through the streets of Liyue.

She tucks the bag further into her side, hiding most of it with her arm. (Y/n) is almost to the inn building when she catches sight of something that makes her come to a grinding halt. Ahead of her, standing underneath the awning of the building right next to her inn, is Tartaglia, chatting amicably with another masked Fatui as a piece of paper exchanges hands between them.

There’s no way she can reach the door without him seeing her. Frozen to the ground, she’s got just seconds before he spots her. She shifts the bag to the other side opposite him, and covers it with her arm as much as possible.

She unfreezes herself and makes to walk past. If she doesn’t look at him, maybe he won’t look at her. Maybe he is so preoccupied with his business that he won’t even notice her.

“(Y/n)!”

Fuck.

Her steps falter just a bit. It would be too much to pretend like she hadn’t heard him, right?

“Hey, (Y/n)!”

She closes her eyes with a groan and reluctantly turns and makes her way over to him.

“Hello, Childe.” She says warily, eyeing him and his associate.

Childe raises an eyebrow. “Feeling prickly tonight, huh? Well not for long, I have good news for you. Have a look at this.”

He hands her an envelope with a closed eyed smile, looking very cheerful. It’s already opened, and she steps back a little bit to let the light of the nearby street lantern illuminate the piece of paper she unfolds.

It’s a ticket for a boat ride to Inazuma. The vessel is Fatui, and departs in two weeks from now.

“No way.” She says as she reads it. “I thought the country was blocked...?”

“It is, to most.” Tartaglia says with a smirk. “But when it comes to the Fatui, we have diplomatic connections with almost everyone that allow for a bit of nudging room, even under these circumstances.”

He gives a look to his subordinate and they vanish into the shadows.

“Wow.” She can’t believe it. “You’re... giving this to me?”

“Mmhm. Happy birthday.”

It’s not her birthday. He just knew she was trying to get to Inazuma to meet Raiden, the electro archon of the seven, for information about Aether.

“... Thank you. But how did you get this?”

“Haha. If you wanna talk details, we are gonna need to find someplace private.”

She does want to know, but he’s looking in the direction of Northland Bank, and there are several people in there she does not want getting an eyeful of her scandalous cargo.

“... I’m actually staying at Lotus Cloud Inn tonight.” She says, gesturing at the building beside them. “If that’s private enough for your clandestine needs.”

He visibly brightens at this prospect. “Sure, that’s perfect.”

She tucks the ticket back into the safety of the envelope and walks over to the Inn doors, rolling her eyes when he tosses his scarf over his shoulder as they push the door open and head inside. Her room is in the top floor, and she endures his radiant expression in awkward silence as they ascend on the wooden lift.

Fishing the metal room key out of her pocket, she lets him go inside first before closing and locking the door behind them and pocketing the key.

He’s already comfortably seated on the plush flower-patterned setée by the time she turns back around. As nonchalantly as possible, she tosses the purple silk bag of unmentionables in the corner where her the rest of her things lay in a pile. Tries not to cringe as the glass of the two objects clinks together as it lands.

She quickly takes a seat on the edge of the bed opposite from the setée. “So, just to be clear, there’s no blood money involved in this, right?”

Tartaglia smiles and tilts his head. “No. It’s just a diplomatic envoy, like I said.”

“Just had to ask. Fatui diplomacy can be a bit extreme. So, what will my Fatui crewmates be up to in Inazuma after we dock? I’d rather not ruin my reputation the second I arrive like I did here, especially since the archon is apparently so paranoid she’s confiscating visions.”

“Nothing that will reflect poorly on you. Don’t worry about it.”

(Y/n) crosses her arms. “You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Not unless you join the ranks of the Fatui.” He says, lacing his hands together behind his head and leaning back.

(Y/n) cringes. “And work for Signora? I’d sooner willingly injest rat poison.” Just thinking about what she did to Venti makes a flash of rage boil in her chest.

He laughs. “That’s right, I almost forgot about the sheer tension I felt between you two back at the bank with Zhongli. I was confused about why it felt more like you wanted to fight her than me. Kind of insulted actually.”

“Don’t be. She is the second highest person on my personal shitlist. If I didn’t think it would be two or three against one, I probably would have fought her.” (Y/n) says dangerously.

“Well working for the Fatui doesn’t mean you’d have to answer to La Signora. There’s ten other harbringers you know, myself included. I wouldn’t begrudge someone as capable as you a job.”

“Thanks but no thanks.” She says. Everything is backseat until she finds Aether. The Fatui are too shady about what they are doing for her to even consider that.

Childe shrugs like he didn’t really expect anything to come of it anyway.

“So, what’s in the bag? Perfume?”

(Y/n) stiffens. “Nothing. None of your business.”

Tartaglia raises an eyebrow and lowers his arms to lean forward. “Come now, don’t be like that. I can’t disclose confidential information, but I’ll tell you anything else.”

“... Well anyways, thanks for the ticket, it was really nice of you to get that for me.”

He doesn’t respond, eyeing the bag now. (Y/n) tenses. She stares at him in silence, daring him to move.

He chuckles darkly. “What’s this? (Y/n) keeping her own secrets... something embarrassing perhaps? Or from a lover?”

She growls low in her throat, warning him to drop it.

“Tell you what. I’ll exchange a secret for a secret. Show me what’s in the bag and I’ll tell you something about our plans in Inazuma.”

(Y/n) can’t believe this. But of course she’s gonna take the deal, her dignity is a small price to pay for a chance to get on the inside of some Fatui intel.

“... If you go back on this deal, I will personally see to it that your pinky and your tongue freeze off.”

Childe just holds out a hand palm up and waits.

(Y/n) trudges reluctantly over to the bag and picks it up. Grimacing in embarrassment, she places it in his outstretched hand and covers her face.

He opens it slowly, smug bastard. The pleased expression all but drops from his face when he sees what it is, though, almost comically. (Y/n) groans and hides her blush as he holds up the clear glass phallus.

“Who gave you this?” His voice is like splintered ice.

“... Nobody. I bought it myself.”

“Our deal is void if you lie.” He says, not believing her for some reason.

She’s flushed so red it reaches her shoulders. “It’s true!” She snaps, snatching it out of his hands. “I don’t have a some secret lover. If I did, I wouldn’t have been so frustrated lately.”

His icy expression melts at her admission, and he leans forward into her personal space. “Is that so? If you want, I can help you with that.”

(Y/n) blinks. “... No thanks, sparring once a week is enough for me.”

“Not sparring.” He says, and taps his finger against the glass of the phallus. “I mean as a substitute for this.”

(Y/n) swallows hard, but shakes her head. There’s a metal band around the fourth finger of one of his gloved hands. “I don’t want to incur anybody’s wrath.”

“You mean this?” He looks very pleased at her words, taking the ring off to play with it for a moment before slipping it back on. “It’s just cosmetic. There’s no beloved of mine that would come hunt you down.”

The relief on her face is probably palpable, because he’s grinning like a cat as he stands and takes hold of her hand, lifting it to his mouth to press a soft kiss to the top.

“I’m also.... not interested in anything casual.” She says nervously.

“What a coincidence.” He says, flipping her hand over to kiss her palm. “Neither am I.”

“So then...”

“I like you very, very much (Y/n)” He kisses her wrist, feeling thud of her racing pulse there.

“Really?” Its too good to be true.

“I thought you knew. I thought you liked Zhongli.” He says, and gets a little more aggressive, brushing her hair back to kiss at her ear.

“Not Zhongli.” She says, melting into the attention. “That day, it was you who stole something from me.”

“I distinctly remember not getting the satisfaction of stealing anything at all on that day, though?” He says, but his tone is light. He gets the insinuation that she returns his feelings.

(Y/n) grunts. “As if... that, wasn’t enough, you also stole my peace of mind.”

“Ah.” He strokes at the back of her hair soothingly. “So that’s why you needed this toy. Poor thing.”

“Don’t you feel sorry for me?” She looks up at him with shiny, hopeful eyes. It’s fucking cute.

“Very. Allow me to shower you with some overdue attention.”

Childe cups both her cheeks in his hands and leans in to kiss her. He takes his time, getting his fill of her, and she chases his lips whenever he pulls back like she can’t get enough of him.

Wicked thoughts of staking his claim on her fill his mind, and he presses a last soothing kiss to her greedy lips before pushing aside her head to find a suitably visible spot on her neck. He nuzzles in and takes his teeth over it before sucking it dark red. It forms an upside down teardrop shape, and inspiration hits him as he sucks again right next to it, ignoring how (Y/n) squirms impatiently.

The resulting mark forms an unmistakeable heart. No doubt it will form the prettiest bruise. Now, no one will look at her and think her free game. Not even Zhongli.

Apparently all out of patience, Lumine takes grip of his shoulders and walks them back a bit before shoving him bodily into the bed.

“Hey!” He protests, “Don’t be so rough with me, beautiful, or I’ll start being rough back.”

“Sorry.” She says, but doesn’t sound it. Climbing up, (Y/n) places herself comfortably in the top center of the bed, golden hair like a crown above her on the white pillows. She holds out both arms invitingly.

Childe doesn’t waste time climbing on top of her and pressing her down into the pillows. She drags his face down to hers for more kisses.

Kisses turn to a makeout session. She starts rubbing herself against his leg and makeout session turns into heavy petting. His jacket and shirt come off. Her skirt is up around her waist and breasts pulled out of her dress. His pants are unbuckled and his fly is down, allowing his hard-on to poke out a tent in his underwear that she is currently feeling up shamelessly with a naughty hand.

It feels good, and he tells her so as he takes both of her pink little nipples and pinches them and tugs forward. Her horny face is so cute, and he decides he’s in the mood for a show.

“Show me how you were going to masturbate with that toy you bought. Then I can show you just how much better I can make you feel with the real thing.”

“What?” She pouts. “What’s the point of that when you’re here?”

“Exactly.” He gets up and retrieves it for her, placing it insistently by her hips. “This way I can show you the difference, back to back.”

“This is ridiculous.” She huffs, but she humors him anyway, taking off the rest of her clothes and peeking at him shyly as she shimmies her hips to remove her panties.

She starts out awkwardly, the embarrassment of his watchful gaze making her hands tremble. But she’s so pent up that eventually she just closes her eyes while she rubs herself, and relaxes. She presses at and toys with her clit for several minutes, before shuddering and pressing the rounded tip of the glass phallus against her wet opening, snuggling down further into the pillows self comfortingly as she gently pushes it in, inch by inch. She leaves it there when it’s about halfway in and then resumes circling her clit.

That’s when the moaning starts. (Y/n) is lost in her fantasy: him and her in the golden house, but instead her loss, by surrender. The victor in his demon form, twice the size of a normal man, pinning her with one hand and wrecking her pussy with a large purple-black cock. Whenever she squirms he slaps her ass hard, pale globes red with large handprints. She imagines herself clenching on him, creaming herself to a cruel pinch of her clit between gloved claws. She does her best to mimic it with her own fingers.

“Shit (Y/n).” Childe’s voice is raw with arousal. “What are you thinking about?”

She opens hazy golden eyes and if it was possible, there’d be hearts in her pupils. “Same thing I always think about.” Him.

(Yn/n) pushes the phallus in further now, quickly circling her clit with her other hand. She lifts her hips up off the bed, straining as she feels the pressure in her clench tighter and threaten to snap. Her voice trembles in increasingly higher moans, and she imagines demon Tartaglia pressing her face into the ground and shoving his dick in all the way. She’s seconds away from cumming when her hand is slapped away from her sex and the dildo pulled all the way out.

(Y/n) yelps and gives Childe a scandalized look of shock.

“Sorry babe, but if you want an orgasm, it’s gonna be on me, not some inferior toy dick.”

She goes to smack at him angrily, but he catches her hands and playfully uses her momentum to pin her. But her protests quiet as he uses the position to grind his length, bare now, against her pussy, relishing in the wet velvet drag against her sensitive nub.

(Y/n) moans and bucks up against him for more. He entertains a few smacks to her clit with his dick, and then leans forward to kiss her senseless. When they break for air, his blonde lover fixes him with a glare.

“You’re going to regret teasing me, lover boy.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” He says, and grasps one of her legs and places it over his shoulder as he pushes himself inside.

It’s wet and warm and oh so tight inside her, and she makes this deeply satisfied sigh that has him wondering just how long she’s been frustrated, combatting her attraction to him.

He sets a languid pace, thumbing her clit. (Y/n) rolls her hips to meet him. It’s a sensual fuck that has them both addicted.

“You feel so good.” (Y/n) whispers, eyes half closed and cheeks flushed with pleasure.

Childe can’t help smiling at that.

“I could get used to this. You’re the most beautiful I’ve seen you yet.” He strokes her skin above where her womb is, wishing for a moment he could see himself inside her. “Or maybe not, if you still have the wherewithal to speak.”

Without warning, he pulls out and flips her onto her stomach, and pulls her onto her knees. She shivers as he trails a hand down her spine, pushing down until he reaches her neck, fists a hand in her hair, and shoves her face into the pillows.

He thrusts into her from behind, setting a brutal pace as he pulls her hips back onto him so hard that it makes a slap as her ass meets the skin of his thighs. She moans in surprise, squealing when he bottoms out with each sharp thrust. He’s so deep he can feel the head of his dick repeatedly kiss her cervix. The intense position reminds (Y/n) of her fantasy, and doesn’t last long before she is crying out into the pillows. Her legs start to shake and her walls give a hard squeeze as all of the pent up tension concentrates and bursts, pleasure overloading her brain.

“So good.” She moans out weakly in the throes of orgasm. There’s something unhinged about his expression as he fucks her through the aftershocks, and she realizes that he fully intends to make this a competition about stamina too.

He paints her back white with cum a few minutes after her second climax, but stops only to wipe up the mess before he’s back nestled snugly within her walls, just as hard. He really is determined to win, despite her being the frustrated one in the first place.

He dicks her down two more pegs before he’s satisfied, pulling out to finish on her stomach this time with a low moan and grunt of exertion.

They just lie on their backs for several minutes, catching their breath.

Eventually, he gets up and finds something else to clean off her stomach with, but then he’s back to laying on his back beside her, pressing adoring kisses to her hand.

“You... are crazy. That was insane.” (Y/n) finally says.

He laughs breathlessly. “That’s not the first time I’ve been called that. So long as I scratched your itch, I hope, my dear?”

“Like a feral cat to a scratching post.” She says dramatically, but turns to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ve accepted the fact that you will be the death of me anyways.”

“Hey, that’s my line.”

“Don’t make me revoke my status as Mrs. Tartaglia when I’m over here drowning in post-coital endorphins, sir.”

“Fine, fine. Can never catch a break around here, jeez.”

“Just wait until Paimon finds out we’re dating.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good point.”

[anistarrose]

To See The Unseen - Ch. 4 (Gravity Falls)

Summary: The kids embark on a quest to take back the mirror, and Stan embarks on a quest to find his brother. Neither goes quite according to plan.

Warnings: canon-typical violence

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/20884673/chapters/50514815

Remember when I said last chapter had changed the most from the outline? This chapter has it beat by a pretty large margin, but I’m so glad it changed because I feel like it really went from good to great.

***

Come on, Ford, where are you…

Moving scenes flickered by Stan, like a projector wheel was whirring and spinning inside his head. Gilled alien children, playing in an underwater kelp forest. A group of humanoid beings celebrating as a sleek rocket ship lifted off in front of them.

A city burning. A smaller town rebuilding. A man offering a few scraps of food to a stray dog. Two chimeras with bat wings and scorpion stingers, chasing each other across a starlit desert sky.

Yet for all their diversity, none of the scenes showed anyone resembling Ford.

He’s got to be out here somewhere. I would feel it if anything happened to him, I’m sure I would —

A long-abandoned space station colliding with a comet. A small family carrying potted flowers up a massive, barren mountain. A world teeming with insects and arachnids, associating into families and societies and nations. A perfectly clear ocean, eerily empty for miles in every direction.

There are too many places he could be, Stan realized. I need to see more.

I need to see everything.

The images blurred together as Stan’s head spun faster and faster, but the universe resisted becoming known, writhing and shrinking away from him.

I NEED TO SEE EVERYTHING. I NEED TO SEE MY BROTHER.

The projector whirring intensified to a dull roar, as Stanley Pines grabbed existence by the throat and stared at it dead in its eyes.

***

“Shoulda figured the gate would be closed,” Wendy grumbled as they approached Northwest Mansion.

“Well, time to make Stan proud, then.” Dipper pulled a small crossbow out of his backpack, and fired off a few shots. The first bolt sailed harmlessly over the fence, but the second flew true and impaled itself in the security camera, spinning it around so that it pointed away from his party. “You want to lead the way, Mabel?”

“Sure do!” Mabel expertly scaled the gate with her grappling hook, then tossed it through a gap in the bars for Dipper to follow with. “If Pacifica asks, we’ll just tell her that we got lost in tunnels that mole people dug under the fence.”

Wendy shook her head. “First grappling hooks in the gift shop, and now crossbows in the closet? We need to get Stan back just so I can yell at him about leaving weapons where you kids can find them.”

“Hey, you carry an axe everywhere!” Dipper shot back as he landed on the other side of the wall, passing the grappling hook through the gate one last time. “And you’ve got to admit, these weapons come in handy all the time.”

Wendy shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m not a kid. I’m a responsible teenager.”

“That’s an oxymoron and we all know it,” Dipper told her as they set off towards the mansion.

“Less of an oxymoron than ‘responsible twelve-year old’ would be.”

“Shh, guys!” Mabel motioned towards a guard rounding the corner, and the three of them ducked into the bushes. Once he’d passed them by, they sprinted towards the front door, only to stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

“Do we… just ring the doorbell?” Wendy asked. “It feels kinda anticlimactic after doing all this cool heist stuff.”

“Is it unlocked?” Dipper gave the door an experimental push, and sure enough, it slid open, revealing a grand ballroom lit by dozens of crystal chandeliers. “I guess we should just head in.”

“Aww, lots of cute animals!” Mabel exclaimed, rushing over to the nearest taxidermied squirrel. “And they must’ve been even more adorable when you were alive — weren’t you, Mister Fluffytail?”

“Why is there so much gravel on the floor?” Wendy muttered, kicking around a few of the jagged chunks of rock that were scattered across the carpet. “I woulda thought the Northwests would take better care of their stuff…” Her eyes followed the trail of gravel and dust across the ballroom, and up the stairs —

And to the balcony from which two Northwests glared down at them, one of looking far more ghostly and petrified than the other.

“Oh,” Dipper whispered. “So that’s what happened to that statue.”

“Dipper? Mabel?” Pacifica gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry, we had a really good reason for breaking and entering, I promise!” Mabel spoke up. “See, our grunkle spoke to me in my dreams and said that in order to lift his curse —”

Dipper and Mabel Pines? Nathaniel Northwest asked as his statue form began to rise up off the ground and out past the balcony. Oh, how convenient!

“Uh, excuse me?” Dipper asked. “I’ve never met you before, dude —”

The statue plummeted to the ground, smashing through the floorboards and coming just inches away from crushing Dipper as he jumped to the side.

You don’t even claim to know the very man whose legacy you fouled? I’ve met a lot of petty children in my day, but you put all of them to shame!

“Grandpa, what are you doing?!” Pacifica shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands. “Are you trying to kill him?!”

Nathaniel turned back towards her. Why wouldn’t I try to kill the meddling kids? Is mercilessly eradicating our enemies not the Northwest family modus operandi any longer? I didn’t think times had changed that much!

“No! It’s not! Even my parents or grandparents would never…” Pacifica’s voice trailed off, like she couldn’t help but doubt her own argument.

Oh, dear naïve granddaughter. Nathaniel shook his stone head. I can’t fault you for not knowing all your family’s history yet, but as much as I disagreed with my children, I simply can’t imagine them abandoning such a simple tenet. Nor can I imagine your parents, or your grandparents, or any of your ancestors, for that matter! How do you think we amassed the family fortune in the first place? Because it sure wasn’t by being kind, or charitable, or —

He staggered backwards as Mabel’s grappling hook caught him directly in the chest, and cracks began to spiderweb across his beard.

“That’s what you get for attacking my brother! You dumb old capitalist!”

I am not DUMB! Nathaniel roared. The world tried to suppress my genius!

His beard began to crumble even more, but a whirlwind of black smoke caught the rocky shards and hurled them through the air. Wendy knocked Mabel out of the way with a rolling tackle, then sprung to her feet and raised her axe just in time to deflect Nathaniel’s stone flagpole in place as he swung it at her.

“Pacifica?” Mabel pleaded. “A little help here?!”

“I —” Pacifica took a few hesitant steps down the stairs, and then froze. “I don’t know what to do!”

As Wendy and Nathaniel continued to spar, remaining at more or less a stalemate, Dipper frantically flipped through Journal 3.

“Come on, come on, I know there’s a whole section about ghosts in here somewhere —”

Nathaniel blew a plume of dust in Wendy’s face, but didn’t strike at her even as she began to cough. Instead, he turned to Dipper, and pointed a chipped stone finger towards the ceiling.

Searching for my weakness? Now now, we can’t have that!

Tendrils of smoke wound around the lamps and chandeliers, and their lights faded. Faint sunbeams from an overcast sky still poured into the mansion through the windows, but as the living combatants’ eyes adjusted, they saw Nathaniel’s statue form collapse to the ground, no longer possessed. His smoke-black, ghostly form was nowhere to be seen.

“Gah, it’s too dark!” Wendy cried, wiping dust away from her face. “I can’t see where he went!”

Mabel poked the lightbulb on her sweater. “Don’t worry guys, I got this!”

But nothing happened, even as she kept poking it more and more frantically. “Oh no! I must’ve ran out the batteries while we were in the bunker!”

“Look out!” Dipper shouted, and Mabel narrowly dodged a chair flung at her from behind. She whirled around and fired her grappling hook in the direction it had been thrown from, but it just harmlessly bounced off the edge of a table.

Nathaniel’s voice boomed from all around them. A lot harder to hide when you can’t see who’s attacking you, isn’t it?

Wendy picked up the same chair that Nathaniel had thrown, diving in front of Dipper and using it to shield them from a volley of broken lamps and shattered glass. “I don’t know, we still seem to be doing pretty well for ourselves!”

Nathaniel laughed. And I can’t wait to see how long you’re able to keep that up! It’s a good think I don’t grow tired like you mortals!

As Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy stood back to back to fend off a barrage of inanimate objects, Pacifica slid down the stairway banister and made a dash for the closest mounted animal — a ten-point buck, hanging on the wall just low enough for her to reach.

“What are you doing?” Dipper yelled as he noticed her pulling out her tweezers. “This is no time for —”

“You can thank me later!” Pacifica shouted back as she plucked a few hairs from the deer’s coat and tossed them into the lantern, then pulled a lighter from her pocket and set the oil ablaze. “Abracadabra!”

The resulting light didn’t quite illuminate the whole ballroom, but still cast a surprisingly far-reaching glow. It turned everything it touched grayscale, except the kids and Wendy, who still looked as brightly colored as ever, and Nathaniel himself — who no longer looked like an amorphous cloud of darkness, but rather an elderly bearded man, floating in the air and glowing a bright, impossible-to-miss shade of blue.

For a few seconds, he just stared at the transparent hands of his true form, until finally his eyes landed on Pacifica, bearing the lantern he himself had created over a century ago.

Young lady, he finally spluttered, what do you think you’re doing?!

Pacifica stared him down.

“I thought you were a kindred spirit,” she began softly. “I thought you were different from all the other Northwests… like me. But you’re really exactly the same as the rest of them after all, and…”

BLASPHEMY!

“And that’s not something I want to have in common with you!”

You want to betray your own ancestor? You want to be disowned?!

Pacifica flinched, her grip on the lantern tightening.

“You go, girl!” Mabel spoke up. “Tell him who’s boss!”

Pacifica whirled around, mouth hanging agape. “You really mean that?”

To her surprise, Dipper cheered her on too. “You heard Mabel! Give him a piece of your mind!”

“You’re not so bad after all, rich girl!” Wendy swung her axe through the air. “Don’t worry, we’ll back you up!”

Pacifica took a deep breath.

You can’t be serious! Nathaniel shouted. My granddaughter would never throw her lot in with you commoners —

“Thanks for letting me know how your lantern worked, Grandpa,” Pacifica interrupted with a smile. “I’m going to help to help these nerds exorcise you now.”

***

A fine mist of subatomic particles condensed on Stan’s glasses, then pooled into iridescent newborn dimensions. They dripped off the glass one by one, and fell into the spiral of foam rotating beneath him, ready to embark on eons-long journeys of existence.

For a fraction of a second, Stan considered looking away, but the thought escaped nearly as quickly as it had occurred to him — after all, he knew in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away even if he wanted to.

There was such diversity in the structure of the worlds, from the liquid droplets to the solid ice crystals to the bubbles of negative space in the foam. It was so much to take in, so much that you’d think it would destroy the mind of someone like Stan — but if anything, it was a comfort to behold, a reassurance to see how tiny and insignificant every tiny sliver of existence was on its own despite how massive and all-encompassing and significant they all became together.

Do not forget, an echoing voice sung in his ear, that you are also significant all on your own — perhaps not to the grand scheme of existence itself, but certainly to many of the people you share this existence with.

Stan rubbed his head. “Wait, what?”

This place encapsulates everywhere and nowhere, for now and forever. Anyone who can make their way out here, to this place no mortals are meant to see, can surely make a difference in the little droplet of reality they reside in.

“Um… thanks? I guess?”

Stan couldn’t see the entity smile, but he sensed it nonetheless.

You have done something extraordinary, Stan. But do not let that distract you from what you came here for.

“What I came here for? I… shit, I was looking for Ford! How — how long have I been here? How much time have I wasted when I could’ve been trying to find him?!”

Worry not. Your bond with your twin is strong, and that bond will guide you to him as long as you put your faith in it.

Stan nodded slowly, and closed his eyes.

“Ford never gives up,” he reminded himself out loud, “which means he’s still out there, still fighting and surviving. He’s my brother, and I will find him, because I don’t give up either.”

He let a wave of sensations and emotions from a trillion different worlds wash over him, but it didn’t carry him off his feet this time, and he wasn’t overwhelmed and hypnotized by it.

Follow whatever feels most familiar, the voice told him. And above all else, trust yourself.

There were too many familiar sensations from the multiverse to count — too many advanced math problems and leather-bound journals and trench coats and broken glasses. And others still, things that were so tragically Ford that they ached — broken inventions and angry parting words and loaded crossbows and bloodshot eyes…

But nothing struck Stan harder than the bittersweet nostalgia.

It was distant and fleeting, like someone’s not-quite-lucid dream as they began to toss and turn and awaken; it was warm like a beach on a summer day while stinging like a splinter from a recently sanded wooden plank, and it resonated. It wasn’t a feeling Stan had ever expected to come from Ford, of all people — but it was so familiar, like a dream that could’ve sprung from his very own head.

“That’s it,” he whispered, and a light pink tail materialized beneath his feet, guiding him forward as he dove towards the droplet of reality that held his brother.

Thank you, whoever you are, he thought to the entity, and even though he hadn’t spoken out loud, something told him the message had been received.

He held his nonexistent breath as images materialized around him — a damp cave, an extinguished campfire, a black sleeping bag…

And sure enough, there was Ford, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken up. There was Ford, alive.

“You’re okay!” Stan whispered, not even caring that Ford being awake meant he wouldn’t be able to communicate. “Oh my god. I mean, I knew you would be, but — holy shit, Ford. I really will be able to bring you home, won’t I?”

Ford rolled up his sleeping bag and stuffed it into a larger bag of supplies, which he slung over his back alongside a giant, rectangular case that presumably housed some kind of weapon. He marched towards the mouth of the cave, through which rays of morning light were beginning to peek, but then paused for a moment, and rifled through the inside pocket of his coat to procure something.

Stan floated closer to get a better look, only to freeze in place as he recognized the item — a photograph of two boys standing on a boat, with proud smiles on their faces despite the broken hull and tattered sails.

“You kept that picture?” he whispered.

Ford sighed and tucked the photograph back in his pocket, then looked up to stare suspiciously at the exact spot where Stan floated — and for just a moment Stan would’ve sworn that Ford could see him.

But then Ford shook his head and stepped past Stan, out of the cave and into the morning sun. As he adjusted the strap holding his weapon, he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “it won’t be long.”

“You can count on that, Sixer. It won’t be long at all.”

As Ford set off, Stan closed his eyes and concentrated on the familiar elements of the multiverse once again.

“Man, this took a lot longer than I expected, didn’t it?” he whispered. “I hope those kids haven’t broken into any mansions without me.”

***

“Pacifica, above you!” Dipper shouted, just in time for Pacifica to dodge a massive chandelier that came crashing to the ground. Nathaniel dove back into the statue, possessing it once again as he took a swing at Pacifica with a crumbling arm, and Pacifica lost her grip on the lantern as she ducked, sending it clattering across the hardwood floor as the light flickered and began to fade.

“Oh no you don’t!” Mabel jumped onto Nathaniel’s back from behind him, covering his eyes as Dipper snatched the lantern up off the ground and held it upright as the flame roared back to life. Pacifica pulled out a nail file and threw it with uncanny precision, knocking one of Nathaniel’s already crumbling fingers clear off of his flag-bearing hand.

Oh no YOU don’t! Nathaniel roared back as his other hand detached from his body, plucking Mabel off his back by the scruff of her sweater and hurling her towards the mounted head of a massive elk. She narrowly avoided being impaled on most of its antlers, but one single point pierced through her sweater just above her shoulder and ensnared her in place.

“Hang tight, Mabel!” Wendy shouted, taking a swing at the animal’s neck, but she failed to notice the detached stone fist swing around once again — first clocking her in the shoulder and making her drop her axe, and then grabbing Dipper by the throat and pinning him to the ground.

“Shit!” Wendy gasped. “Let him go, you bastard!”

Nathaniel advanced towards the lantern, blasting Pacifica backwards with a cloud of smoke and dust from his stump hand while raising his flagpole over his head in preparation to strike Dipper.

Give me the lantern, Pines, he growled. Or —

“How about I give you an ass-kicking instead?!” Stan’s ghost rose up from within the floor like a blazing blue lightning bolt, and in the same fluid motion, he delivered an uppercut to Nathaniel’s chin that knocked his spectral form clear out of the statue and twenty feet straight into the air.

“You want a fucking ghost fight?! ‘Cause I’ll give you a ghost fight!” Stan crowed, flexing incorporeal arms. “I got my ghost brass knuckles right here!”

“Grunkle Stan?!” Mabel gasped. “How did you do that?”

Stan whirled around to face her. “Wait, you can see me? Fuck, I really shouldn’t be swearing then, should I?”

Dipper got to his feet, the stone hand having relaxed its grip around his throat. “It’s the magic lantern, I think. It reveals all the ghosts in range of its light.”

“And it used to be Grandpa Granite’s own magic lantern at that,” Pacifica scoffed. “Talk about irony!”

“Ha, Grandpa Granite!” Stan laughed. “That’s pretty good!”

Nathaniel slunk out of the lantern’s range, where he transformed back into a ghost made of smoke and ashes, but his eyes were glowing such a firey orange that everyone could still make out where he was.

“Quick, kids!” Stan commanded. “Get behind me!”

Mabel tugged at her sweater, still caught on the elk’s antlers. “I can’t! I’m stuck!”

An orange smile flickered on Nathaniel’s face, and he leapt back into the light towards Mabel.

“Don’t you dare!” Stan shouted, diving forward at superhuman speed to meet him, knocking him off balance with a left hook before jabbing a knee into his groin. Nathaniel howled and aimed a blow at Stan’s head, but Stan jumped out of the way with ease, then kicked Nathaniel’s legs out from underneath him and sent him tumbling to the floor.

“I’m guessing you didn’t take boxing lessons as a kid, did you?” Stan asked smugly. “I never thought I’d tell this to a ghost that doesn’t weigh anything, but somehow, you’re putting too much of your weight into your punches.”

So this is how you want to fight? Nathaniel hissed. Too bad my quarrel isn’t with you.

His hand swept up a pile of jagged porcelain shards, and with a blast of ghostly smoke, fired them in a volley towards Mabel. Stan dove in the way to intercept, but they passed straight through him, and Mabel barely extricated herself from the antlers in time to dodge.

I can beat him to a pulp, but I can’t affect the physical world enough keep my kids safe from him while I do. They’re the ones he wants revenge on. Stan realized. I’ve got to make myself his main target, somehow. Or…

An idea occurred to him that was so dumb he couldn’t help but grin, and Nathaniel glared at him.

What’s so funny? Are you excited to watch your family die?

Stan ignored him, struggling to stifle a laugh. It was a horrible, risky, completely harebrained idea, and it was exactly what he needed.

“HEY, BILL CIPHER!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”

The room fell dead silent as the tapestry behind Stan lit up with a flash of golden light. It depicted a gray, one-eyed triangle looming over two pleading silhouettes surrounded by red and orange flames — but as a cold wind blew through the ballroom, the figures began to write in agony as the flames lit up blue.

Bill cackled as he opened his eye and casually stepped out of the tapestry like it was something he did every day. “Well, well, well! We meet again, Stanley! Finally ready to make a deal?”

“Oh, hell no!” Stan replied, pulling his 8-ball cane out of thin air to make an overdramatic gesture in Nathaniel Northwest’s direction. “I just thought there was someone here who you might like to reunite with. For old times’ sake, you know?”

YOU! Nathaniel howled. YOU DOUBLE-CROSSED ME AND LEFT ME TO ROT!

The cockiness deflated out of Bill’s pose as his eye went wide. “Hey now, let’s not jump to conclusions here! Give me a chance to tell my side of the story —”

Nathaniel lunged forward and grabbed ahold of Bill, seething with such an overwhelming rage that his whole body lit up firey and orange. YOU ARE NO MUSE! GO TO HELL, YOU TREACHEROUS AFFRONT AGAINST INSPIRATION!

Bill fired back with a blast of blue fire, but he looked shaken. “Alright, FINE! My side of the story is that I DESPISE you and every single atom that’s ever passed through your BODY!”

“Fight, fight, FIGHT!” Stan chanted. “Kids, get the camera!”

“FUCK YOU!” Bill shouted at Stan, only for Nathaniel to seize the opening and punch him directly in the eye. They continued to tussle, tumbling out of range of the lantern’s light, and Stan flew after them, disappearing from the kids’ view.

“I am so confused right now,” Dipper muttered.

“Stan knows what he’s doing,” Mabel assured him. “Probably.”

DIE, FOUL BEAST! Nathaniel roared, but Bill caught his fist in midair, and Nathaniel screamed as bolts of blue electricity surged up his arm.

Stan seized the opportunity, floating up behind Nathaniel and tapping his wrist, where a silver watch resembling the portal appeared. The clock’s hands whirled around the inner circle unnaturally fast, and Stan put on his cockiest grin as he raised his wrist for Bill to see.

“Remember, only nine more hours until we BOTH lose everything!”

The lightning bolts sparking from Bill’s hands shorted out.

“Speak for yourself!” he shouted, voice jumping up to an even higher pitch than usual. “I DON’T need —”

Nathaniel slammed his head into Bill, knocking him backwards and through the staircase.

“But of course you can keep wasting your time letting Cowboy Casper here beat you to a pulp,” Stan jeered. “I don’t mind waiting!”

Bill flew back out of the stairway, his whole body crackling with electricity as he summoned a vortex of fire around Nathaniel, trapping him in place — but Bill’s eye stayed fixed on Stan, even as Nathaniel thrashed and howled and cursed.

“If you want the portal on so badly, then just shake my hand, you idiot!” Bill shrieked. “I really don’t know how to make this any simpler for you!”

“If you really hate Old Man Northwest so much, then you should just trap him in the mirror and let me go for no price — because that handshake? That deal? That’s never happening, Cipher,” Stan shot back. “Go ahead, call my bluff! Wait out the last nine hours, and watch thirty years of biding your time go to waste! I’m sure you know exactly what a petty, stubborn asshole my brother can be, so let me give you one last warning before you make a choice you regret — I’m just as petty and stubborn as he is!”

Bill’s whole body lit up red as he slowly pointed one index finger at Stan, and fired another blast of blue flames —

And Stan sat up in his hospital bed with Bill floating over him, looking angrier than it ever should’ve been possible for any two-dimensional object to look.

“This isn’t over, Fez!” he hissed. “I’ll still get exactly what I need from you sooner or later, one way or another!”

“So you finally admit that I’m useful to you, too!” Stan gloated. His voice was hoarse, but he didn’t care. “I figured you’d come around soon enough!”

“You have NO IDEA how lucky you are that I need you alive! I would let you rot in that mirror FOREVER if I could!”

Stan stretched his arms, giving each of his biceps a celebratory kiss. “Ahh, I missed these bad boys! How’s it feel not to have a body, Bill? If only you hadn’t made it so goddamn obvious that you still needed me, I might’ve even given in and agreed to let you borrow mine!”

Bill vanished without any fanfare or even one final threat, leaving Stan alone in the hospital room with a recently-awoken and extremely confused Soos.

“Mr. Pines?” he gasped. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, more or less,” Stan assured him, places a hand on Soos’s shoulder as Soos rushed to his side. “Plan A didn’t go so great, but Plan B worked like a charm.”

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Soos cried, wrapping Stan in an uncomfortably tight hug. “But who were you just talking to? I didn’t see anyone else in the room…”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Stan told him. “Right now, I need you to call Wendy and the kids for me, ‘cause I vanished before their eyes just a couple minutes ago and they’re probably worried out of their minds.”

“Shh, not yet.” Soos wiped his eyes. “Just give me ten more seconds of hugging you and sobbing first.”

Stan sighed. “Alright, I suppose.”

***

(End notes:

Poor Bill, wasting such a dramatic entrance on a scene where he got completely and utterly dunked on. And there we have it, the conclusion of the main story! There’s still an epilogue coming to tie up the wide variety of loose ends I’ve created here, so keep an eye out for that sometime in November, if all goes according to plan!)

[fuwafuwamedb]

Maiden Before Aya Pt 8 (Enkidu, Hakuno, Gilgamesh)

“Where’s your queen this morning?”

Enkidu followed behind the king, already knowing what had the king’s mood afoul.

“She’s still ill.” The man snorted, glaring back towards the direction of his bedroom. “She insists that it’s a passing condition and refuses to allow me to get a healer or medic from the kingdom to come visit her. I’m sure she’ll be wandering around this afternoon and gorging herself on food this evening like she had no condition at all.”

Another scowl had the servants scurrying away from him.

“Maybe she’s-“

“Enkidu, have those useless priestesses shown up for their usual pleading with me?”

Ah, Enkidu nodded. “The temple of Ishtar is requesting donations from the palace for renovations again. They say the roof is leaking now.”

The man made the most sadistic of smiles at that. “Leaking? When we are in the midst of a drought?”

He was going to enjoy that one.

Enkidu laughed a little as he almost sprinted to the audience chamber to harp upon the human priestesses. His loud yelling could be heard for several hallways, but Enkidu gave themselves a moment to head to his room.

The woman was vomiting quietly into a chamberpot near the bed.

Wisps of extra energy and life seemed to come off her in calm waves, making them smile a little.

“If you try to tell me that I look pretty right now,” Hakuno gasped, pausing from her morning sickness, “I’m going to know that you’re full of shit, Enkidu.”

“You didn’t tell Gilgamesh.”

“He’d not get any work done.”

That was true.

His friend had a great hobby of prioritizing certain things over others. Hakuno came before work. They came before Hakuno who came before work.

Nothing personal, of course. They had simply been friends for a long time.

Hakuno was very accepting of this fact.

Still, this was the king’s legacy. Instead of making the poor priestesses of other temples aside from Ishtar’s suffer his foul moods, she could have told him and let the city celebrate the impending royals on the way.

Instead, the king was expressing quietly that she may hate him or something.

Recoiling from his touch in the mornings, puking, eating more than normal, growing a bit around the middle; he was worried and he was upset that he was worried.

“May I see?”

Hakuno motioned him to go ahead.

Her belly was still pretty firm, just the slightest hints were telling them that there was something there. That, and there was a great amount of energy. They’d be as lively as the king himself.

“Can you tell anything about them?” Hakuno asked.

“They’re strong.”

She sighed, “I was afraid of that. I’m going to deal with another Gilgamesh.”

Ah, but that would be fun.

She just needed time to warm up to the idea.

“I’ll go get you some water and honeyed fruit-“

“Anything Gil eats,” Hakuno pleaded. “Just look and see what he’s having and bring me that. I can’t even think about sweet foods right now.”

They nodded, holding back their amusement and heading for the kitchens.

“Enkidu!”

Enkidu paused as Gilgamesh left his audience chamber.

“Why aren’t you joining me?”

“Hakuno’s hungry.”

“Let her starve a while. She’s been eating my plate and her own for a couple weeks.”

Oh no.

They must have made a face at that, Gilgamesh paused.

“…Enkidu, what is it?”

They shook their head.

“Is there something wrong with Hakuno?”

They shook their head again, finding the king pulling them closer. The man’s red eyes were narrowed, the deep wrinkle of his brow and thinning of his lips saying more than his words ever could.

“Is she dying?”

He spoke those words so quietly, as though Ereshkigal would burst forth from one of his vases in the hallway and make a running start for his bedchamber.

“She’s pregnant.”

The man stared at them.

“They’re a strong little life, although it’s too early to be able to tell whether they are a boy or a girl. She’s been losing all that food in the mornings and then trying to gain enough food to help the baby grow-“

“I’m having a son!”

Enkidu pulled him back by his robes.

“NO! I said I wouldn’t tell!”

“That’s nonsense! Hakuno should have informed me this morning!”

He undid his damn robes and booked it for his bedchambers.

“Gilgamesh, no!”

They had said they wouldn’t tell!

They pounced onto the king’s form just short of the room, pulling him back and away from the door, but not far.

The king’s hands were grasping at their hair, trying to tug them back enough to gain the upper hand. They were holding him down again and again, using that ticklish waist to subdue the king.

“I NEED TO GO, ENKIDU!”

“YOU HAVE PEOPLE, GIL!”

“SCREW THE PEOPLE!”

“YOU DID THAT ALREADY!”

They were wrestling harder now, the king using every opportunity to try to grab his bedchamber doors. Enkidu found themselves having to use all their energy to keep the king at bay.

There was ripped fabric strewn across the hall with bits of green and gold hair here and there from their tugging. Jewelry clattered around them as the king threw his off to gain more ground.

The door behind them opened.

“…Please tell me that Siduri is done with both of you,” Hakuno pleaded.

The two of them stopped, Gilgamesh’s attention immediately drawn to his woman. She was in her normal attire once more, although the belt had been loosened a little.

“Hakuno, come here.”

“You’re covered in Enkidu,” she countered.

“Come here,” he insisted, waving her to him, refusing to accept anything else.

Enkidu kept their pinch firm as the man simply kissed his wife.

“Have your meal with me,” he demanded.

“Get dressed and help fix Enkidu’s hair first,” she argued. The smitten fool nodded at her words, glaring over at them as Hakuno headed for the dining area.

“Thank you,” Enkidu whispered.

“I will instinctively sense the truth tonight in bed,” he told them. “Since you promised.”

…She could possibly buy that.

They nodded. “Sorry for kicking your ass in front of your queen.”

The man laughed. “Bold of you to assume I was trying, Enkidu!”

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (27)

Let’s enjoy ourselves, dammit

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: about 3,700 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up where we left off, as Hana, Maxwell, and Olivia arrive at the cabin, starting with Amara’s POV.

*****

Amara, Hana, and Maxwell jump up in the air, shrieking, for a good thirty seconds, until they realize that Liv is behind them, looking annoyed as hell. Without thinking, Amara wraps Olivia in a tight hug.

‘Liv! It’s so good to see you, girl!’

‘Ugh,’ Liv says, disgusted, ‘keep your hands off of me, Suarez, before some paparazzi thinks we’re having an affair.’

Amara lets her go, and looks her in the eye. ‘Are you ok? Like, for real?’

‘Yeah,’ Liv responds, rolling her eyes. ‘I was told this would be relaxing. Clearly it doesn’t mean for me.’

Drake pops his head through the door. ‘Of course you can relax, Nevrakis. Come on in guys. Amara made drinks, and there’s a shitton of food.’

Maxwell comes in first, and wraps Drake in a bear hug. Amara feels like her heart might explode. ‘Thanks for having us, Drake. We missed you guys.’

Hana hugs Drake too, and chimes in, ‘It’s true! What would we do without Dramara?’

Liv rolls her eyes and sighs. ‘Walker, where’s the drink you were talking about?’

*****

Liam glances at his phone, finally a text from Drake.

Hey, sorry I missed your calls, I’m tied up at the cabin and reception is terrible, catch up tomorrow? Hope all is good.

Dismissive, but it’s something. Liam sighs. Only five minutes until his next meeting. In the end, he’s glad Bastien talked him out of going to the cabin unannounced. Bastien was right, he wouldn’t have had enough time to make it back to his meetings, and he had one with the Ambassador of Greece.

He feels silly all of a sudden, being so needy towards his friend, after they had such a complicated few weeks. Sure, he’d been there for Drake after Jackson died, but who wouldn’t have? Plus, Drake had been there for him countless times before, and after that. So, really, he doesn’t know why he’s counting points right now. He types back.

No worries. I’ll see you in Portavira tomorrow.

Typing bubbles.

Why don’t you come by the cabin for lunch? I’m having the Beaumonts over, Hana, Liv, and Amara.

Liam catches himself sighing in relief. He wasn’t being completely iced out. Maybe Drake was really busy, maybe there was some maintenance problem at the cabin, maybe it was all in Liam’s head. He replies as fast as he can, before Drake changes his mind.

I would love to. Is noon ok? We have to be at Penelope’s estate at 3.

The bubbles come back.

Perfect. See you then. Don’t bring anything.

Heh, Drake knows him well. He was already thinking about which vintage bottle of wine to bring. Liv will be there, which he’s thrilled about. He’ll get to see how she’s doing, without having to do it one-on-one again. Less awkward.

A knock on the door. One of his butlers, George, peeks his head in.

‘Your Highness, Miss Ioanna Papadakis, Assistant to the Ambassador of Greece.’

Surprised, Liam promptly answers, ‘Let her in, thank you George.’

*****

Drake puts his phone away and joins the crowd outside on the patio. Everyone is already moderately tipsy, thanks to the strong margaritas prepared by Amara.

‘Guys,’ Drake announces, ‘Liam said yes to lunch here tomorrow.’

Maxwell nods, ‘Good, I’m glad you two touched base. He was distressed today.’

‘Thanks for telling me,’ Drake says, grabbing his glass again. ‘I can’t believe that Bertrand covered for us. I’m in shock.’

Hana swallows her sip of margarita. ‘It was glorious, Drake, you should have seen it. He lied for you, just like that! And thank goodness, because Max and I were at a loss for words, and Liam looked very suspicious.’

‘It doesn’t matter if you manage to cover it up or not,’ Liv says, breaking her silence. ‘when it comes out, and it will come out, Liam will be furious.’

Drake doesn’t know what to say to this. She’s probably right, but he doesn’t need this right now, and neither does Amara. He looks at her, she’s nodding and frowning, staring intently at her glass. Finally, she speaks.

‘You’re probably right, Liv, but what do you suggest, then? That we stop living our lives? That we break up? That we just jump out the window?’

Drake didn’t expect Amara to react so viscerally. Upon hearing her say ‘break up’, his heart shattered. No, he certainly doesn’t want that. He glances at Liv, who went even paler than usual.

‘I’m sorry, Suarez,’ Liv finally says. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I know, things are shit, but it doesn’t mean that we stop ourselves from living our lives in the meantime. Let’s enjoy ourselves, dammit.’ She raises her glass and says ‘It obviously pains me to say this, but cheers to all of you guys, who are...pretty decent people. I guess.’

Amara finally breaks into a smile and clinks her glass to Liv’s. ‘Very heartfelt, Nevrakis. I’m almost tearing up.’

‘Shut up,’ Olivia replies. ‘Before we all get super drunk and Beaumont inevitably forces us to play Never Have I Ever or some shit--’

‘Ohh, good idea,’ Maxwell whispers.

Liv glares at him. ‘I was saying, before we get shitfaced, there’s something I want to say. I’m ok. Don’t worry about me. I’m dealing with all of this, and I don’t need to talk about it.’

Amara smiles and nods, until she finally talks. ‘You know we’re here for you, if you need, though. But before we change the topic, can I ask you an inappropriate question?’

Liv sighs. ‘Yes.’

‘How is Ilya coping? I mean, his dick was under everyone’s plate.’

Drake almost chokes on his margarita. Olivia chuckles, and responds, ‘You know what’s funny? I hadn’t even wondered about that until Rashad asked me. To me, Ilya was never anything more than, well, his dick. Never occurred to me that there might be a man attached to the genitals.’

Amara raises her glass and her eyebrow. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

*****

‘Wait, so you mean there’s someone out there blackmailing everyone?’

He doesn’t know how they got here, drinking whiskey in the middle of the afternoon and talking about his life. He simply had offered her a drink, and next thing he knew, he was pouring more than whiskey. There was no stopping the flow of words, and Ioanna was not even attempting to make it stop.

‘Well, I wouldn’t really say blackmailing,’ Liam responds, ‘because so far, no one has asked for anything in return. Just revealing private things about two of the contestants, and hopefully it stops right here.’

Ioanna whistles, and says, ‘Forgive me, Your Highness--’

‘Liam. Please call me Liam. Our official meeting is over.’

She nods. ‘Sure. Liam. I don’t mean to be indiscreet, but do you know who that might come from? Maybe one of the contestants who is trying to keep your favors?’

‘Could be. Honestly for right now there’s not much I can do, I put my bodyguard and the security team on the case, they’re looking for clues.’

‘Wow,’ Ioanna says, shaking her head.

It felt good to talk to someone, even a complete stranger. He had met Ioanna before, he recognizes her, but they’d never talked. He’d always talked to the Ambassador, but today he had the stomach flu, so Ioanna filled in.

‘Thank you for listening,’ he says, smiling brightly. ‘I didn’t mean to bore you with my life story.’

She dismisses him with a hand gesture. ‘Please. Your life story is everything but boring.’

He chuckles. ‘Thanks. I don’t know if it makes me feel better. Oh, and thank you for filling in today. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy the Ambassador’s company, but it was lovely to get to spend some time with you.’

She laughs lightheartedly. ‘I’ll be sure not to tell him that, and just so you know, I enjoyed our meeting too. Thanks for having me.’

They say their goodbyes, and Liam lets his next meeting in.

‘Bertrand! Hello again.’

Bertrand looks stressed. He is dressed way too formally, even though Liam told him this morning that it was going to be more of a friendly chat regarding Barthélémy Beaumont’s legacy. Bertrand is wearing a black tuxedo, and underneath, instead of his usual sweater vest, he has a bright blue cumberbund, embroidered with satin in the shape of little squids. Liam wonders for a second whether he lost his top hat and his monocle.

‘Hello, Your Highness,’ Bertrand responds formally, curtsying. ‘Thank you for having me.’

‘Thanks for coming, come have a seat, and maybe let’s have a little drink, huh? We’re just gonna have a friendly chat, so you can relax.’

Bertrand nods and sits down, visibly a tad relieved. ‘Yes, well,’ he says, still nervous, ‘I would like to seek your council on the best way to announce that my father loved a man, without harming his memory. My brother and I talked about it, we researched Father’s long-time partner, and as it turns out, he passed away last year. Maybe we could do something in their name, like a donation to an LGBTQ foundation?’

Liam smiles broadly. ‘Wow, Bertrand, that is extremely thoughtful. I don’t think any of this would ever harm your father’s memory. Maybe you and Max could draft a statement, I can take a look at it when it’s convenient, and we can put all that in place together. We’ll call an official announcement.’

Bertrand’s smile relaxes slightly. ‘That would be great. After you left this morning, Maxxie and I drafted something already. Here’s a paper copy, and I will send it to you via email as well.’

‘Wow, you guys are efficient,’ Liam says as he pours the scotch.

‘Ha! Well, we want it done as soon as possible. I’m itching to fire that… that weasel Albert, who’s been blackmailing all of us for years. I want to do that once we have made the announcement, though. We don’t want Albert twisting the truth or taking over the announcement.’

Liam nods, ‘Of course. Let’s get this show on the road, then.’

*****

‘Never have I ever slept with a woman!’ Liv slurs, pleased with herself.

‘No fair!’ Maxwell squeals. ‘I never win either way in this type of thing.’

Hana reluctantly has another sip, although she definitely is tipsier than ever and does not need any more alcohol. After he finishes drinking, Drake says, ‘Don’t take the bait, Max, it was a ploy to make us all drink except Amara. These two are going for a face-off.’

Amara laughs, and takes her turn. ‘Never have I ever… owned a squid suit!’

‘Amara!’ Maxwell yelps. ‘You betrayed me, you little bastard.’ He drinks another big gulp, and pursues, ‘I never thought my beautiful squid suit would be the death of me.’

‘Alright Max, your turn,’ Amara says, laughing.

‘Hmmm,’ Max hums, in an exaggerated thinking pose. ‘Never have I ever had sex on these very lawn chairs.’

‘Come on, Max,’ Hana giggles, ‘that’s too specific, and who would do that outsi--Oh…’

She interrupts herself as she notices both Drake and Amara taking a huge gulp from their drinks, all the while trying to contain their laughter.

‘Sorry hun,’ Amara says, after finishing her sip. ‘I promise we cleaned them, though.’

Hana laughs, blushing, ‘Oh, good to know. I mean, get it girl, or, like Bertrand would say, Yass Kween.’

Liv lets out a throaty laugh. ‘What? Bertrand said what?’

Max snorts, ‘Yeah, I made him watch Queer Eye and now there’s no stopping him! He’s going full Jonathan Van Ness on us!’

‘Wow,’ Liv continues, ‘he’s gotten woke ever since he found out that your dad liked dick.’

‘Olivia!’ Amara cries out.

Max smiles sadly. ‘It’s ok, Amara, we might as well laugh about it, right? I knew when I told Liv, that there would be no stopping the jokes, so here we are.’ He takes another sip. ‘Bertrand is coping well, actually. I’m proud of him.’

Liv nods, visibly flushed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound this crass. I know it must have been weird to deal with. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t tell anyone, and I won’t. I’m only talking about it because everyone here knows.’

Max shrugs. ‘I know, Olivia, it’s fine. I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to laugh about it, I prefer it this way. As for Bertrand, he’s always been a bit stuck up, but he’s only been this bad since Dad died and he was left in charge. Before, he had a very sweet side, which I’m starting to see again, little by little. It’s nice to have my brother back.’

Amara’s eyes flutter down, just like every time someone says something like that. She feels Drake’s hand on her knee, discreetly comforting her.

It’s all different now. Someone is there for her.

Several someones. She looks around and feels her heart filling with love, and curses herself right away for being too sappy. Her new, close friends around some drinks, teasing each other and dropping truth bombs. That’s exactly what she needed.

Maybe that’s why she came, after all. That, and the handsome, brooding man from the bar. And to think it was the end of her shift, too. She’d have to thank Daniel for bailing on her that night. Bless his Grindr hookup, really.

Feeling a tear escape from her eye, she takes a deep breath and gets up. ‘Let me refresh your drinks, guys. I’m the bartender after all!’

She disappears into the kitchen with the tray of glasses, and preps some more margaritas. She’ll make them frozen this time. They need a serious buzz.

‘Hey, you ok?’

She turns around and sees Drake approaching her, and soon enough, his arms are around her waist. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You don’t look fine,’ he says before kissing her neck.

‘Gee, thanks!’

‘Heh, I meant you look wistful. Was it Max’s brother comment?’

She shakes her head. ‘Oddly, no. I mean, it triggered me a little. Fuck, I would give just about anything for Sergio to be here with all of us.’ Her voice breaks. ‘I miss him even more when something good happens to me, you know. But I don’t want to be the weirdo with the dead brother, I don’t want Max to have to tiptoe around his relationship with Bertrand when I’m here.’

He kisses her neck again. Damn, that’s efficient. ‘You’re not a weirdo. You’re an awesome badass bitch, and you’re hot as hell.’

She giggles. ‘And you’re a hot, drunk mess.’

‘I’m fine, just giggly because of the tequila. I’ll probably have to be supervised while grilling. You changed the subject though. What made you tear up?’ She stays silent and he continues, ‘I saw it, Amara. I know you more than you think.’

She sighs. He really does. ‘I feel stupid saying it. I’m just happy to have met all of you, and, well, remember when I made you watch Jane the Virgin?’

He rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner to signify that he hated it, but she knows that he secretly loved it. ‘Yes Ma’am.’

‘You know when her heart glows when it’s full? Well, I felt the same out there, just now. I’m happy to be here with you, and I don’t want it to stop.’

He sniffs her hair, probably wanting to be sneaky, but she hears the sniffing loud and clear. He says, ‘I get it. I feel the same. I’m happy we’re all here, and I hate to say it, but it feels like a last hurrah. Like something bad’s gonna happen.’

‘Exactly. I don’t know if it’s gonna be in Portavira tomorrow, or this weekend at the Decision ball, but I’m not feeling good about the near future.’

He flips her around, and takes both of her hands in his. ‘Do you feel good about the future-future?’

She chuckles, ‘What?’

He shrugs, and brushes his thumb across her hand. ‘I don’t know. Maybe this week is just a bad storm that we have to get through. Maybe we could see it like that. Maybe if we hold on really really tight, during that shitstorm, maybe then, we’ll be ok?’

She throws her arms around his neck and places a long kiss on his lips. ‘I love that. Let’s hold on really tight.’

*****

Liv gets up to go to the bathroom, and realizes to her surprise that her legs can barely carry her. She didn’t have all that much to drink, did she? Well, Suarez’s cocktails are deceptive. They taste good, but they’re all kinds of strong.

Not like last night’s vodka. It tasted like pure alcohol, and it got her just as drunk as she thought it would. The only surprise in all of that, was Rashad.

Why is she even thinking about Rashad right now? She doesn’t have time for this bullshit. She has to watch her back. What if he’s in on it? What if he’s one of the people who exposed her?

Meh, she thinks. She would be really, really surprised. Not because he couldn’t, but because he really wouldn’t have a proper motive. He doesn’t give two shits about court, as long as he can conduct business.

‘Ew, gross,’ she says as she stumbles upon Suarez and Walker making out in the kitchen. ‘The cook and the bartender sucking face, that’s hygienic.’

Suarez laughs, ‘Well you’re a delight.’

Liv shrugs. ‘Do you think I hurt Beaumont’s feelings?’

Walker chimes in, ‘I don’t think so. You didn’t mean anything offensive by it, and it’s Max, not Bertrand. He wasn’t shocked.’

Olivia snorts, ‘True, he’s also very much into dick.’

‘Don’t push your luck, Nevrakis,’ Suarez replies.

‘Alright, I’ll stop. Where’s the bathroom?’

‘There’s one right there, near the stairs on the right.’

‘Thanks.’

On the short walk to the bathroom, she notices a family portrait of the Walkers as kids, and the parents as well. She almost forgot what Jackson Walker looked like. She’d always esteemed him. Honorable guy, willing to lay down his life to save the King’s. Tragic for his family. She thinks of her own, for a split second, just like she does several times a day. She realizes she can’t really remember what her own parents looked like, not without the aid of a photo. She remembers smells, voices, smiles. Not entire faces.

As she washes her hands, she looks at her face. Her makeup is a fucking mess, she’d need to fix it. Or maybe it’s not necessary, it’s just them. No one to impress here.

In one swift motion, she removes her lipstick. It stains the side of her mouth. Dammit, she thinks, in all movies, women are able to remove their makeup seamlessly, why not her? She wets her face until it disappears. She removes the tiny dagger that holds her hair up, until it curls down her shoulders. A while since she let her hair down, literally.

She stares at herself for what feels like a brief moment, but it must have been longer than that, because when she gets out of the bathroom, Suarez is outside, a worried look on her face.

‘Everything ok?’ she asks.

Olivia wants to be annoyed. She wants to tell her to mind her own fucking business. But she can’t. She’s actually touched that she cares. ‘I’m fine. You need the bathroom?’

Suarez shakes her head. ‘No. You look pretty with your hair down.’

Liv stifles a smile. ‘Thanks. And you’re glowing. You two must have fucked like rabbits.’

She laughs, ‘Well, you’re not wrong. But it was a little more elegant than that, I like to think.’

Liv smirks, and walks back to the kitchen alongside Amara. She looks at her pouring the frozen margs into the salt-rimmed glasses.

‘Suarez, you sure we can handle so much booze? I have to admit I’m a little...shitfaced.’

‘Ha! Me too. But Drake is firing up the barbecue, it won’t take long for the burgers and hot dogs to be cooked. He’s setting the table outside, there’s potato salad, coleslaw…’

‘You got yourself a nice little house boyfriend, huh?’

Suarez smiles in a sweet way, completely ignoring what was meant to be a dig. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve been enjoying this. It feels real. Shopping with him, cooking together, being outside in nature--’

‘Fucking outside in nature.’

‘Yeah, that too. But, the normalcy, you know. It did something to me. Made me realize some stuff.’ She stops herself and shrugs, chopping a lime to put some slices on the glasses.

‘Suarez?’ Liv asks hesitantly.

‘Yeah?’

She takes a deep breath. Damn you, margarita. ‘You know when you said that I might have been too focused on Liam to see anything else?’

‘Yeah, I remember saying something super insightful along those lines. Go on.’

Liv chuckles. ‘Well, I… Don’t make a big deal about it, and don’t run your big mouth. But um, last night, I think I had a moment. With someone else.’

Suarez looks up from her cutting board, her eyes widening. Liv worries that she might cut herself until she puts the knife away. ‘What? You met someone in just one night? As Bertrand would say, apparently, Yass Kween!’

‘Calm down, bitch. It’s not like that. Nothing happened, it was just a nice moment, but when you said being here made you realize some stuff, I thought of last night. It did the same for me.’

Suarez nods, and breaks into a broad smile. ‘I’m happy for you, Liv.’

She shrugs. ‘Well, it’s probably nothing, but it made me feel good.’ She pauses. ‘Valued.’

‘That’s great. You deserve this much, and more. Do we know this gentleman?’

Liv sighs. She has no idea why she’s telling her all that stuff. ‘It’s Domvallier. Rashad.’

Suarez’s jaw drops. ‘What? Liv, he’s hot!’

‘Shh, come on. I said don’t run your big mouth. Nothing happened, he showed up in my room with vodka and pastries, he wanted to cheer me up. He didn’t expect anything from me, he just...wanted to be there. It was nice.’ She steals a glass and drinks from it. ‘We watched Killing Eve.’

Suarez raises her eyebrows several times and shimmies her shoulders. ‘Oooooh, Killing Eve! Did all the murders make you horny?’

Liv rolls her eyes. ‘Shut up.’

*****

Taglist:

@andy-loves-corgis @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @alesana45 @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love @drakewalkerwhipped @drakxwalker @drakewalkerrosenberg @bryclahela @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

CHAOS AU IS BACK .

imagine if we start to wrestle childe like "LET ME CUT YOUR GODAMN CLAWS" bc they're like BIG claws and moth is whining, screeching and yelping bc he doesn't like the sound of the clipper and we're still trying to wrestle him.

bonus points if zhongli comes all panicked and just sees us wrestling childe while he is whining. ALSO IMAGINE IF WE ARE LIKE, yk, to get with the dragon!reader au, like reader is like zhongli and we take our dragon form (maybe we can transform part of our body, like we make our claws appear) to pin childe down and try to cut his claws.

🐈‍⬛

YES. TRIMMING CHILDE'S CLAWS I IMAGINE IS AKIN TO TRIMMING A CAT'S CLAWS (which i have much experience with hehe <33)

you don't really like having to trim his nails (mostly because it stresses him out :(( but he both sticks to the carpet AND leaves scratches in the doors when he's lonely!! so you have to resort to trimming his claws, and Childe puts up a FIGHT!! you have to chase him around the house first, then wrestle with him, even using your more draconic form to ensure he doesn't move. he whines and whimpers the entire time, too, and you feel horrible but still trim the tips of his claws while he can't move. Zhongli's just watching from the entrance, looking both horrified and in awe at your determined expression and your scaled tail weighing Childe down

afterwards you let Childe up and he darts away under his favorite blankets, huffing and sulking. when you attempt to console him, he turns away, but you reach to give him some gentle scratches and he leans into your touch. he's still very much pouting, but his eye closes as he bumps your hands for more pets, and you take that as permission to hoist yourself onto the bed and snuggle next to him. you even keep your tail out so you can drape it around him, listening to Childe's happy chirps as he plays with the fluff on the end. when he finally turns to face you and wedge his face in-between your arms, you know he's forgiven you, and you reward him by giving him scritches and pets between his horns and under his chin. Zhongli watches you two "make up" as Childe purrs and clings to your tail and you lay against him for a quick nap <333

[missoneminute]

Thanks to the anon who sent in this translation of this French interview. I have cleaned it up a little and you can read below the cut. 

Antoine asks if after spending a lot of time in France and recording his album in France, he must speak French. Peter answers yes, after spending 6 years in Melun, he speaks French (he uses the words 'screwdriver' and 'Asterix' and no one understands why) and says that French is the second language of pop. Antoine asked what pop culture is for him.

Peter's answer: Some think that pop culture was invented to be successful for commercial purposes, and this is not really the case. It's a question of appreciation, the idea is that the pop culture must be able to fit in your pocket and be disposable.

Then Charline quotes some excerpts from his songs, and says he's a genius. If it's not embarrassing to be called a "genius."

Peter answers: It's a pretty nice change because usually I'm treated to other names. Someone shouted out the window at me earlier when I was getting in the taxi, “Fuck off you bender”. So genius balances things. 

Then Antoine says they had asked Peter to name a book , a film, a music and a cult series, but he did not answer, so they chose instead. They Oscar Wilde’s The portrait of Dorian Gray. Peter will read an excerpt. Peter says he loves this book because it's scary, because when you live alone in the countryside at 16 or 17, the idea of being 40 is pretty scary, but it has a comic side. As we get older, we go from 17 to 20, 25 years old, it's less and less funny. It's a beautiful book, but a horror story. A horror? He answers, "No, it's pretty nice."

For the film, Antoine chose Confessions of a Child of the Century. Antoine asks if it is true that he knew the scenario [plot] by heart one year before appearing in the film.

Peter replies, Yes, that's right, it was part of the contract. They were worried about whether I could be sure if I was going to be punctual. In fact I did not miss a single day of filming. It is difficult to find a good translation of Alfred de Musset because it was not correctly understood in England. I first read it in French, but at the time I did not know how to read French, so I carried the book upside down.

Antoine chose a 2nd film, Mum I Missed the Plane, but Peter talks about the movie, The Devil Probably, which he thought was great. She then said that I missed the plane is a pop culture classic. Her mother forbade her to go see this movie because she thought it was a satanic movie.

For the series, Antoine chose, Hancock.

Peter says it's a great choice, at the time it was probably the most popular show for music.

Antoine chose David Bowie.

Peter: For me he’s a God, and in 100 years we will still consider them living gods. He was an incredible man.

Antoine: You just celebrated your 40th birthday, I'm curious to know how you celebrate?

Peter: It was very quiet, I did not do anything excessive. [Here he says he did get a bit wild the night before his birthday]. I just wanted to have a little fun with my friends. [He then says if he had a party, it would be a costume party]. In my life, there are all kinds of people who hate each other, so if you arrive costumed, nobody recognizes you it's convenient. So I got this idea. My old friend Carl came to see me, and he sang happy birthday on the piano.

Antoine asks how Peter was disguised at this costume ball.

Peter answers: I was dressed like Carl!

Antoine then talks about the new album and asks what Puta Madres means

Peter: Motherfucker!

They recorded with cameras, microphones, live. Antoine asks if  Étretat inspired the album.

Peter: I have two dogs, one husky and one Malamute. And my dogs are free, they can walk in the village, even the police help them to walk freely. It's the only place in the world where you can have two crazy dogs and leave them free.

Charline: Is it true that you play pétanque when you are in France?

Peter: Yes, and to Margate too. In Étretat the pétanque is very serious. One day I had to go play with someone at 5 am. I arrived a little late, and he hasn’t spoken to me since. He says that I am not a serious man because I don’t carry a knife and I’m late for petanque.

When Antoine asks if he "pulls or he points", Peter replies that he does not pull anymore, he smokes it. (Antoine asks not to translate).

Antoine asks what France has in particular to attract so many British musicians.

Peter: In Étretat a guy wandered with his guitar, nobody knows what he's doing, where he comes from, and Étretat has welcomed him. He is staying with someone, he does some gardening and plays of his guitar. It is this way of welcoming these musical refugees, it is the music and also the wine ... it is the wind of the freedom which blows in the heart of the French. He then explains that he composes in calm and solitude. He then speaks of the Bataclan, that it is peculiar to play there, that it is emotionally heavy. Charline asks him what else he could have done as a trade.  

 Peter: Soldier, bartender, every easily could have been dead. Or a very unsuccessful criminal would have been my fate if I had not taken up guitar. I had some good ideas on it but I cannot tell you here

Charline: And hotelier?

Peter: Is this a criminal activity? Given the price in some hotels, we can ask the question, it's true.  

Charline: A new Libertines album is planned for 2020, is that the case?

Peter: Damn we better get working. Yeah we have a studio now, The Libertines, and I’ve been living there. I sacrificed my French dream to keep an eye on things in Margate as caretaker, and now they’ve asked me to move out. And very soon The libertines will be the proprietors of a seaside hotel in Marhate. And Carl Barat has a liquor license, he’s got a sign up in the window and everything. He will be able to sell alcohol between 11am, and 2 in the afternoon I think. And we have a bar that Carl’s called… what’s it called. Peter wants to share the name of the bar, which was named by Carl, but does not remember it. He says that the owner of the Melun house is suing him.

And about the breakfast challenge he managed to eat, he says it's gotten more publicity than all his albums. he says that a guy called, Tiny, a huge guy of nearly 200kg had trouble finishing the breakfast.

He says there was a horrible picture of him after he had finished this breakfast, a photo taken by the cook watching him eat, and this photo became viral.

Charline: What would the 40-year-old Peter say if he met Peter at the beginning of Libertines?

Peter: He would say who the fuck are you? He would say hello, smile sweetly, and they’d walk off hand in hand into the sunset, finally found a friend.

Antoine: What would you like us to say about your musical heritage?

Peter: I would like people to say something about my musical legacy. If people are talking about musical legacy, it means I have one.

 About the hotel:

Peter: We are going to have cocktails, shows, burlesque, a piano in a corner. That’s heaven to me on the Normandy coast listening to an audio book by Arsène Lupin, thinking about my musical heritage, switching from radio to station to station.

Back to Brexit, how do you live it?

Peter: It was colder last week than this week, but the foul beast has not yet returned yet. In fact, we do not know how it will be. What I want is to move freely in Europe and all over the world, I love it. Spanish, French, Welsh, English band members. It could be the end for the Puta Madres.

He then plays a song.

[gr-ogu]

if you're still writing fics, can you write something with "You have to let me see him". I love your writing!

Of course I can, lovely anon!!!! :’) Thank you so much forthe prompt and I hope you enjoy this!!!!!

a hogwarts au, because I am a basic bitch, and we all knewthis was coming, didn’t we?

…

Aaron’s been standing outside the Slytherin common room forhalf an hour, and quite frankly, he’s cold, he’s tired, and he’s fucking sickof arguing with this portrait.

“You are not the house of Slytherin, and thus you may notenter,” Salazar Slytherin says for the umpteenth time, and if Aaron could jumpin there and strangle him, he would, “Now, be off with you, foul boy!”

“Oh shut up, will ya? I’ve been in there loads of times, noneed to pretend like it’s some big secret.”

“I beg your pardon young man!” The portrait shouts,scandalised. “You most certainly have not! No outsider has entered the dungeonfor more than eight centuries—″

“Well that’s a load of bollocks,” Aaron says, mouthdown turned in a mocking smile, “Our Saviour and our King did just that, back intheir day. It’s in Hogwarts: A History, so you can pipe down mate.”

Not that Aaron’s ever bothered to open his History of Magictextbook, but everyone knows about the Golden Trio and their adventures. He’s aGryffindor, how can he not? It’s practically his legacy.

“That is simply not true, I renounce the notion!” The portraithuffs, and Aaron just doesn’t have time for this

“Just let me in will ya? There’s someone I need to see andyou’re makin’ this way more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Certainly not,” Salazar says again, and doesn’t deign tospeak to Aaron any longer.

Aaron huffs, annoyed. It’s true, he’s seen the inside ofthat common room thousands of times. He’s Disillusioned himself and followedother Slytherins in, followed Robert in, but Robert never would tell him thepassword.

It’s stupid, Aaron thinks. Why did it matter if he knew thepassword or not? They were meant to be secret boyfriends, so it’s not likeAaron was going to mention it to anyone.

He can see the green-tinged walls in his mind’s eye; seethe black and dark green sofas, the dark wood cupboards. The total opposite ofthe warm and inviting Gryffindor common room, in Aaron’s opinion.

That’s what Robert could be sometimes—cold and uninviting.But only when he was mad at Aaron, like now.

“Merlin’s right testicle,” Aaron curses and pinches thebridge of his nose with his left hand. “If you’re not gonna let me in, I’m justgonna have to force ya.”

“I say! Young man—”

He’s got his wand in his right hand when the portrait dooropens, and Priya steps out. She’s a Slytherin too, one of Robert’s best mates,their year. Brilliant.

“Can you stop making a racket and threatening ourportrait?” She asks sternly, both hand on her hips. She’s one of those girlswho pins her robes back with magic so they suit her frame better, and eventhough Aaron doesn’t go for girls, he can still admit she’s attractive. She’sclever too. Aaron likes her. “Robert says he doesn’t want to see you. So goaway.”

“No!” Aaron answers defiantly, still brandishing his wand.He might like her, but he likes Robert more. “I want to see him now, and you’regonna let me in.”

“In your dreams,” she scoffs, “What have you two fallen outabout this time?”

“Qudditch,” he replies automatically, and Priya rolls hereyes as if she’s expecting it.

It’s their go-to lie, whenever they’ve fallen out. They’refriends, everyone knows they are, even if some people don’t like it. That makesit easy to hang around together, to joke, to laugh, to argue. Easier to hidethe truth.

They’re both on their house Quidditch teams, Robertslightly more reluctant than Aaron, but he’s got the build for it, and Aaronadmires that build everyday. Aaron’s a beater, revelling in the thrill of theaggression; Robert’s a chaser, all agility and quick thinking.

Aaron keeps Robert chasing him, too. 

Most of the timeanyway.

It’s easy to say they’ve fallen out over it, they’recompetitive at the best of times, both wanting to get one over on the other,especially when secret sexual favours are riding on it.

The ‘secret’ aspect of their relationship is down toRobert. He’s still coming to terms with his bisexuality, and Aaron can respectthat. God knows how long it took him to accept that he was gay. Robert is alsofrom a Pure blood family, who expect heirs from their children, putting acertain amount of pressure on Robert as the eldest son.

“Andy can live his life to make babies for all I care,”Robert had said, “There’s more to life than blood purity.”

Sexuality isn’t that big of a deal in the Wizarding World,and Aaron’s grateful. Coming out had been the easy part, his half-blood Mumaccepting him completely. It was him accepting himself, that had been the hardbit.

Pure bloods though, they still try to pretend onlyheterosexuality exists in their family lines. Aaron rolls his eyes at thethought. So stupid.

“Look,” Priya says. Her resolve is softening and she’strying to be kind, Aaron can tell. “Why don’t you speak tomorrow, when thingsare less heated? I don’t know what you’ve said to him, but he’s pretty riledup.”

Aaron bites his lip in guilt.

Their argument had really focused on the fact that Aaronhad wanted to tell Adam about his relationship. Adam keeps trying to set him upwith blokes, and Aaron’s finding it hard to keep rebuffing Adam’s attempts tohelp his best mate pull. Aaron aches to just tell his friend the truth, butRobert had been dead set against it.

“You can’t tell him!” Robert had sighed, pacing up and downnext to Aaron’s bed in Gryffindor tower. Everyone else was at dinner, notexpected to come back for a while, so they were safe. People probably wouldn’tthink much if they caught them up there anyway, not knowing about Robert’ssexuality. “He’s the biggest blabbermouth in our year! Half the school will knowby tomorrow!”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Aaron had rolled hiseyes, playing with his quilt, “He’s never told anyone about you Bat-Bogeyhexing ChrissieWhite, and you would have got in loads of trouble for that.”

Robert’s silent for a beat. It’s true—Adam hadn’t let himdown there. “He’ll tell Vic, I’m not ready for her to know yet.”

Adam’s dating Robert’s younger sister. She’s a fifthyear, one year below them, and there’d been some hostility when that had comeout, but they all got on well enough now.

Aaron thought Robert secretly liked having an inter-housefriendship group. It made him feel cool. Adam and him were Gryffindor,Robert and Priya in Slytherin. Adam’s siblings Matty and Pete, they were inHufflepuff with Vic. Adam’s other brother Finn was their Ravenclaw, butsometimes he could barely even look at them, never wanting to be involved intheir ridiculous antics. Or so he always said, before joining them in figuring out hownot to get caught.

“I just—I’m not ready yet Aaron, alright?” Robert hadsighed, “Even one person knowing, that terrifies me.”

It hadn’t been alright with Aaron though, not at the time.Their chat had delved into a screaming row, where Aaron couldn’t understand howtelling one person would change anything. Robert had stormed out, not breakingup with him, but it was a close thing.

When Aaron had calmed down, he’d felt extremely guilty. Itwasn’t fair to push Robert, even if Adam was his best mate. He’d rather keep ita secret than lose his boyfriend completely.

“I need to see him now,” Aaron says in the present, “I need to tell him I’m sorry.”

“I’ll pass on the message,” she smiles tightly and moves toshut the common room door, but Aaron’s desperate.

“You have to let me see him!“ He cries, and thensuddenly Robert’s there, shouldering past Priya, all eye rolls and soft greyjumper. Aaron’s favourite.

“Thanks for trying Priya,” Robert says to her and shesmiles, “I’ll take it from here.”

She nods and disappears back into the common room, givingthem one last curious look before she goes.

“C’mon,” Robert says tightly, “Not here.”

He grabs Aaron’s wrist, but he doesn’t have to. Aaronfollows him away from the listening ears and eyes of Salazar and down into an alcovetucked a few corridors away. Aaron knows it well—they’ve snogged in here many atime.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” Robert hissesimmediately, but Aaron’s expecting it. “Talk about makin’ it obvious!”

“I didn’t know how else to see you,” there’s a sadness inhis voice and he can see the fight deflate out of Robert in one big exhale.

“Couldn’t you have just owled like a normal person?”

“No,” Aaron says anxiously, “I needed to see ya. Tell yaI’m sorry in person. I’m so sorry Robert—telling Adam isn’t worth losin’ you.”

Aaron’s not usually so open with his emotions, he evenrecognises that in himself. The admission causes Robert’s eyes to widen slightly.

“I’m sorry too,” Robert sighs, taking both of Aaron’s handsin his. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It’s not weird to want to tellyour friends about your relationship. And I do, believe me I do… It’s just—“

“I get it, Robert,” Aaron cuts him off, not wanting tocause Robert anymore sadness, “There’s a lot at stake. I get it. It’s just youand me, we don’t need anyone else, got it?”

“Yeah,” Robert’s smile is brilliant and Aaron knows it’sone of relief. He can leave the situation alone if it means Robert smiles athim like that. “So, kiss and make up?”

“Shut up, you,” Aaron says affectionately, and they doexactly that.

…

I’m no longer accepting prompts, but I’ve got a few left inmy asks to do, so I’ll be doing those!!!! Thank you so much everyone who sentone

[cinemasnob412]

The Definitive Surviving Girls Of FRIDAY THE 13TH

Inspired by an article featured on VHSRevival.com I’ve decided to compile what I consider to be the definitive ranking of the FRIDAY THE 13TH series’s “final girls”. If you’re not well versed into what makes a slasher film “final girl” so special let’s break it down in simple terms: she’s gotta be the smart one, the “pure” one and in a perfect world would go head to head with the big baddie during the film’s finale, ultimately coming out on top, but not successful enough to make it through a sequel. With the ground rules set, here’s a look at the FRIDAY THE 13TH films’ worst to best “final girls”. Warning, there may be spoilers to follow.

12 - Amanda Righetti - Whitney - FRIDAY THE 13TH (2009)

I’ve never kept it a secret just how much I dislike any FRIDAY THE 13TH film post-Paramount. 2009′s reboot has a few good things going for it: Julianna Guill and a pretty aggressive Jason Voorhees (Derek Mears). In all reality they’re about the only two positives I can come up with off the top of my head. What it’s lacking though is what really made the original set of FRIDAY THE 13TH films so enjoyable. Marcus Nispel’s film leans more into TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE territory than it does FRIDAY THE 13TH. It’s also short on a likable and true to form “final girl”. Righetti’s Whitney character, while by all accounts is the smart and “pure” one, is too reliant on her co-star Jared Padalecki’s Clay character to be considered Jason’s nemesis this go-round.

11 - Lexa Doig - Rowan LaFontaine - JASON X (2002)

New Line Cinema’s entries into the FRIDAY THE 13TH cannon are my least favorite of the bunch. Along with JASON GOES TO HELL: THE FINAL FRIDAY, 2002′s JASON X feels almost nothing like a Jason Voorhees vehicle. Too bad for Lexa Doig, whose Rowan LaFontaine character exhibits all the “final girl” traits, but does so in a pretty terrible film.

10 - Monica Keena - Lori Campbell - FREDDY VS. JASON (2003)

Monica Keena’s Lori Campbell character is really unnecessary in a film like FREDDY VS. JASON. If Jason was going to have an adversary to challenge him throughout the film’s final reel it needs only be Freddy Krueger (Robert England) right? Final girl fail!

9 - Kari Keegan - Jessica Kimble - JASON GOES TO HELL: THE FINAL FRIDAY (1993)

Adam Marcus’s JASON GOES TO HELL: THE FINAL FRIDAY is not even a true FRIDAY THE 13TH film in name. It sure as hell isn’t a true FRIDAY THE 13TH film in content either. With body-swapping, newly revealed Voorhees bloodline ties and not a teenager in sight, JASON GOES TO HELL: THE FINAL FRIDAY is just a complete mess. Kari Keegan’s Jessica Kimble character, like the film she appears in, is a “final girl” by default only (she’s the last girl standing, so I guess that makes her pretty “final”). Her contributions to the “final girl” club are minimal. I guess she does get to stab Jason in the chest with a medieval dagger, that’s pretty cool, right? No! 

8 - Jensen Daggett - Rennie Wickham - FRIDAY THE 13TH PART VIII: JASON TAKES MANHATTAN (1989)

Ah! Finally, the Paramount Pictures contributions to the Voorhees legacy. 1989′s FRIDAY THE 13TH PART VIII: JASON TAKES MANHATTAN is easily the weakest of the first eight films, as is the “final girl” character of Rennie Wickham (Jensen Daggett). She dresses like a forty year old mom who’s given up on life, is more of a fragile character than usually required to be an imposing, and victorious “final girl”. It’s not all Daggett’s fault. In reality she's ultimately a victim of lousy writing and poor creative choices by the film’s director, Rob Hedden.

7 - Adrienne King - Alice Hardy - FRIDAY THE 13TH (1980)

FRIDAY THE 13TH purists may cry foul with this one. Hear me out. As a die hard fan I love Adrienne King’s Alice Hardy. She’s the perfect “final girl”. The only real drawback to her character is that she never gets to actually go toe to toe with Jason Voorhees. In fact, the one and only time (not counting the first film’s dream sequence finale) she comes face to face with Mr. Voorhees (in 1981′s FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 2) she takes an ice pick to the temple! Her “final girl” days were over at that point.

6 - Lar Park Lincoln - Tina Shepard - FRIDAY THE 13TH PART VII: THE NEW BLOOD (1988)

In 1987 when Paramount Pictures and New Line Cinema couldn’t come to an amicable agreement on potentially featuring both of their marquee horror icons in one film, Paramount forged on with another “versus” idea. Jason versus “the new blood” (I guess that’s what they meant by that title) Tina Shephard (Lar Park Lincoln). Tina fits the mold of the “final girl” perfectly. Add to that fact that she also comes equipped with almost supernatural, telekinetic powers, and old Jason was in for one heck of a showdown in his sixth outing, and the seventh overall FRIDAY THE 13TH film.

5 - Kimberly Beck - Trish Jarvis - FRIDAY THE 13TH - THE FINAL CHAPTER (1984)

Ask me now, ask me in one hundred years, what is the best FRIDAY THE 13TH film? Hands down, 1984′s FRIDAY THE 13TH - THE FINAL CHAPTER. Joe Zito’s film has everything the series has come to be known and loved for. In the fourth entry, Kimberly Beck’s Trish Jarvis, along with her younger brother Tommy (Corey Feldman) put a (temporary) end to the hockey masked killer. Trish is fierce and just as brutal with old Jason as he is with her. She protects her brother, faces her fears head on and ultimately holds her own quite well against Crystal Lake’s most famous resident.

4 - Dana Kimmell - Chris Higgins - FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 3 - 3D (1982)

By 1982, the slasher genre’s “final girl” had become well defined. The third FRIDAY THE 13TH entry runs with that established characterization with no hesitation. Dana Kimmell’s Chris Higgins not only finds herself alone, one on one with the seemingly unstoppable force that is Jason Voorhees, but the film, halfway through clues us in that she’s sort of been through this before, having had an encounter with Jason in her younger days that she can’t quite completely recall. Maybe it was her earlier experience with Jason that prepped her for her Higgins’ Haven redux. She hangs the big fella, whacks him in the back of the noggin with a log and a shovel, stabs him in the leg and even tattoos him in the dome with a full on swing of an ax. She thinks and works quickly, constantly keeping herself one step ahead of Jason throughout the entire final reel of the film. Kimmell’s “final girl” would definitely top the list if it were not for our final three candidates.

3 - Jennifer Cooke - Megan Garris - FRIDAY THE 13TH PART VI: JASON LIVES (1986)

Jennifer Cooke’s Megan Garris character is not so much a “final girl” as much as she’s the partner in crime with the sixth film’s “final guy” Tommy Jarvis (Thom Mathews). Why so high on the list then? For starters she’s hot. That counts for something, right? Seriously though, she’s one tough cookie. Not content with just going along for the ride, Megan helps Tommy along the way, compiling all the necessities to return Jason to his watery grave once and for all (?). She even steps in to save the day when Jason gets the best of Tommy during the film’s finale, on the water Crystal Lake fight scene. Just as Dana Kimmell’s Chris Higgins character did in the third film, Megan leaves a permanent mark on Jason’s infamous hockey mask (thanks to her quick thinking and a readily available boat propeller), something that would visually define Jason’s trademark mask throughout the seventh film.

2 - Melanie Kinnaman - Pam Roberts - FRIDAY THE 13TH PART V: A NEW BEGINNING (1985)

I know what you’re thinking. “But Pam never fought Jason, she fought the impostor, Roy”. Well, factually speaking you’d be right. And if you took what I said about Adrienne King early and applied it here, then theoretically Melanie Kinnaman’s Pam Roberts should also be lower on the list. I say you’re wrong though. Kinnaman’s final showdown with Roy (Jason impostor or not) is the stuff of FRIDAY THE 13TH legend. She’s tough, protective of her younger costar (similar to Kimberly Beck in FRIDAY THE 13TH - THE FINAL CHAPTER) Reggie (Shavar Ross) and aggressive when it comes to taking on the masked murderer intent on putting an end to her. She wields a chainsaw for Pete’s sake! Plus, let’s not forget she looks pretty darn good doing all of this!

1 - Amy Steel - Ginny Field - FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 2 (1981)

Amy Steel’s Ginny Field is one bad ass chick! Her showdown with Jason is pretty standard fare when you stack it up against the others in the series. What sets her apart though is her quick thinking and use of psychology to take on Jason when the chips are down. Tricking Jason into thinking she’s his beloved mother by donning her rotten sweater in an effort to strike the death blow on the confused Voorhees may have worked had it not been for one false move. No biggie though, she still lays the smack down on him by way of a machete in the shoulder blade that not only saves herself, but her boyfriend Paul Holt as well, who is in a life or death struggle with the maniac until she lands the fateful whack. Like the character of Tommy Jarvis in the later films, it would have been great to see the Ginny Field character return to do battle with Jason again. Amy Steel has talked about her willingness to return to the series, so maybe, fingers crossed, us fans will one day see the return of the greatest “final girl” in FRIDAY THE 13TH history. A boy can hope! 

[genxmusings-blog]

Barbies, Brisket, and a Benediction

Before my daughter was born, I bought her first Barbie doll to commemorate the year of her birth. I looked at it as the start of an amazing investment and a great mother/daughter bonding project that we could enjoy for years to come and a legacy to pass down to her daughters and well blah, blah, blah, that particular Barbie is worth about 9 bucks now. 

Fast forward a few years and about 35 or 45 barbies later and we did amass a sweet little fashionable collection of just the ones we loved—okay I amassed a collection of the ones I loved—she didn’t really care one bit with the exception of the Audrey Hepburn set that, let’s just say, you’d be nuts not to go gaga over. I did have one favorite that through many years of buying and selling, I would never part with and still have to this day:

My Kate Spade Barbie. She represented to me something so clean, so sophisticated, so elegant, and carefree—everything I wished I could emulate. I even had that exact wicker Kate Spade bag before the doll even was released which prompted me to buy her. I must have repaired the wicker on that bag and put it back on life support for at least 9 years not having a clue who Kate Spade was when I first purchased it back in the early 2000’s. Well, sadly, we know that the woman behind the image of this doll was far from carefree. 

Her approach to fashion and beautiful things in their simplicity and their linear grace brought me personally a sense of wonder and appreciation for style, workmanship, creativity, flair and the ability to set a trend that allowed women to enjoy a small indulgence in an industry that so often requires an investment that is entirely out-of-reach for most. I love what Mindy Kaling said of her after the news of her death, (Kate) "encouraged women to find the twinkly person inside them. You couldn't walk into her boutiques and not smile." I’m sorry that Kate could not find that within herself. She will be greatly missed.

When I was in-between jobs up in the Toronto area, I walked dogs. For real. Why not? If it only had paid more, I would probably still be doing it today. Each day, I would get my pre-determined route, my set of house keys and security codes (I was screened—no apparent red flags from my past), and my roster for the day. My usual route would often include the trails along the bluffs of Lake Ontario and the groomed trails that would meander off through the woods behind the various subdivisions on the Lakeshore. Other than the occasional rainy day and a few temperamental dog owners who would literally sit and stare at you Devil-Wore-Prada-style as you came in and walked their dogs (no joke), this was actually a very pleasant season of my life. It also was during the fall and Autumn in Ontario along the lakeshore of Oakville is nothing short of glorious.

My mainstay throughout this was listening to audiobooks. Many times, I would extend a walk or two in order to finish a chapter I was listening to because in early iPod days (no Smartphones to do your bidding), it was very hard to bookmark and God forbid you lost your place. One author I would gorge myself on (pun intended) was a caustic, rude, arrogant, wonderful chef named Anthony Bourdain. I had seen him on segments of different cooking shows and caught random appearances as a guest judge or talking head on the fledgling Food Network or some other Bravo late night fare, but I couldn’t get enough of this guy.

His take on the wonders of the Austin barbeque scene and how extraordinary brisket was if you were willing to wait for the very best (which to this day he still stands behind Aaron Franklin’s), made me want to drive to Austin and sample these delights as soon as I finished scooping up Donner and Blitzen’s, the Shih Tzu twins’ poop. Kitchen Confidential was a revelation to me. Secretly I wanted to be that mean, that outspoken, that foul (a little bit secretly sorta), but there was so much more to him. His love of the culture of others and his respect for the purity and sanctity of their roots and heritage, and his devotion to seeing it preserved and passed down without some franchised chain destroying all of its joyfulness and ancestral delights.

To hear that he could not find any of that joyfulness within himself to the point that he felt the need to take his life was absolutely stunning. I would agree with the words of Ted Allen who said, “Tony Bourdain made the world a smarter, better place, and nobody will forget him.”

Why the benediction?

As a believer in Jesus Christ and a follower of the teachings of the Bible, I hold tightly to scripture as God’s Word—as truth—as surely as I know anything else that is true in my life, I stand firm in that belief. I cannot and will not second-guess where people like Kate Spade or Anthony Bourdain placed their faith. 

I have known the most pious spiritual evangelical verse-spewers to be some of the most dreadful unpleasant hypocritical toxic people I have ever met. I have also known some pretty questionable characters who have lived on the fringe of what I would call a conservative Christian lifestyle who do little to evoke the costuming of what the Southern Baptist Convention would dress one up to look like if there were a uniform; yet because of their faith in Jesus Christ, their place in heaven is no less valid. I can question and ponder the choices of other’s all day long--but life is too short, time is too precious, and my own mirror is too much in need of a good polishing of its own.

See through a glass darkly (oil on linen)

This is the benediction I wrote as an exit for Sunday morning church services several years ago and these are the words I will leave you with:

       God bless you and keep you as we journey from this place.

       May Your love encircle every heart and illuminate each face.

       Let His loving arms protect you, and His wisdom guide your way.

       As we leave this sanctuary now, and we celebrate each day.

 May you celebrate each day.