#I AM KILLING HIM IN MY MIND WITH HAMMERS AND ALSO BRICKS

[grandmasickomode]

Broke: Hating Maruki for his virtues as a character, his ambitions, his actions, ect

Woke: Hating Maruki because you have any sort of psych degree/training and you want to WRING HIS LITTLE NECK

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 2 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Winning the favour of the God of Mischief is not an easy task - even if he has already fallen for you.

Warnings: None.

Words: ~1600

A/N: Since I am writing several Series at once, together with Oneshots in between, the chapters are gonna be a bit shorter so I keep no one waiting. Hope that is alright!

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza​ @queenariesofnarnia​​ @commonintrest​​ @buckylokisimp​ @just-someone-who-likes-to-write @lxdyred @frostay​​​​

The first weeks after your arrival at the Avengers Compound passed by rather uneventful.

Due to the fact that you neither had a family you could be attached to, nor many belongings ever since HYDRA had kidnapped you and destroyed your home, Tony insisted on you living at the tower - like many of the other members as well.

Everything was just so new and exciting, not even Loki’s gleeful mockery could bring you down from that high.

Little did you know that all of his pep talks about those ‘inferior heros’, the ‘illusion of power’ or how no one was ever truly good or evil had a completely different reason:

An attempt to get you to leave, for your own good. After everything that had happened to you, the god was worried how another fight would affect you.

Anyway, it was a luxurious life compared to your old one, with so many kind persons and new perspectives. And you were sure to return that favor once you’d learn to control your powers!

So until then, you would train as hard as possible and care for your new friends through little acts of service. Caring for others came quite natural to you, may it be listening to their problems or simply complimenting them to see their faces brighten up.

And for some reason, that particular character trait was the one thing Loki found the most annoying.

How could a person so naive and pure think they could actually join in battles against evil? You’ll only end up getting yourself killed - and to be honest, Loki thought this to be a waste.

And even though he’d never admit it, but jealousy was starting to get the better of him the more he observed you getting along with everyone.

They adored you - and they were very right in doing so!

But that would mean that you were just nice to everyone, not especially to him, right?

Every time you’d help Bucky through a panic attack, braided Thor’s hair or helped Banner in the laboratory, Loki only wished you’d be with him instead - and if he had to burn this whole place to the ground for this to happen.

Yet his pride kept him from voicing that desire.

For you on the other hand, it was frustratingly hard to get through to the God of Mischief. In comparison to how he treated the other Avengers, he was always reserved and courteous towards you, yet also unreachable distanced.

Only on a weekend where the other Avengers were on a mission, the two of you found a way to actually bond with each other, if only a little.

Loki had once again read every book he borrowed from Stark’s library, now having a reason to leave his room again. At least those subhumans won’t be there to drain on his nerves...

When he crossed the living room on his way to the elevator, he blinked heavily as he saw you plainly chilling on the sofa. He was just about to turn around and leave, when you hectically gestured for him to stay.

“Hey, Loki! 😊” you wrote on a notepad, holding it up for him to read.

“Greetings...” he spoke between gritted teeth, but your smile wouldn’t falter, so he stood rooted in the middle of the room.

“Do you want to watch a movie together?” How blunt could you be to ask a literal god directly, just like that?!

“Actually, I-” When your eyes met, Loki cut himself off, the words being caught in his throat. “Well, if you’re in dire need of my sublime company...”

You were quick to sit up straight, offering a bowl with popcorn to the Odinson which he curiously accepted. When he answered your question about what sweets they eat on Asgard, he wouldn’t understand why you’d laugh. Apparently ‘nuts and grapes’ are not considered treats on earth. Got it.

Yet that little huff you blew out of your nose instead of making an actual laughing sound came somewhat endearing to him, especially in contrast to your other noisy companions. “Adorable...”

Without even asking first, you’d wrap the other half of the blanket around Loki, effectively closing the gap between you two.

“Wha- I’m not cold!” he blurted out, visibly overchallenged by the sudden closeness. “I’m a Jotun, hel!”

What was he even so worked up about? Geeze...

“But the weather on Asgard is rather humid, right?” you wrote down, with him nodding approvingly. "It allows all kinds of flowers to blossom, other than this metal brick” he explained, your excited look not failing to keep him talking. “You should see it some time.”

Loki’s eyes were now locked on the screen, and you could basically grasp his homesicknes, very well aware that a failure and war criminal like him would never be tolerated in those holy grounds ever again.

Great...now you had achieved the exact opposite of what you wanted.

You tugged on his arm so he’d shift your attention to you again, quickly writing something with a barely there sulk on your face:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you sad.”

Tears were already forming on the rim of your eyes, making Loki’s insides churn. “So sensitive...gods. Keep yourself together, would you.”

The Odinson instinctively wrapped an arm around you, his free hand petting your head as he pulled it to his chest. He was awfully warm for a frost giant, and his heart was hammering against his chest in a fastened pace - maybe just your imagination, though.

“Well, it’s winter...” he uttered, acting as if he actually cared about the plot of the movie. “I may not freeze, but you seemed cold. That’s all.”

You let your hand run across his collarbone, making him look down to you once again. He bit his lip as his icy glare met your warm one, eyes shimmering with earnest affection while you formed silent words with your lips:

“T-h-a-n-k y-o-u.”

“N-no need to thank me.” Just now Loki wondered what kind of spell you were using on him, being reduced to a shaking and stuttering mess.

No curse, no beauty ever before had bewitched him so much that he would lose his cool, let anyone peek under his confident mask, after all.

Not so long ago, when he was still considered the handsome Prince of Asgard, he would bed a different lover on each night, though never settling for anyone.

And after the revelation of his true heritage, even those fleeting encounters to ease his loneliness would falter - all that’s left was certainty that the theory he had ever since his childhood had proven to be true: 

That everyone had always secretly despised him, the failure of the family and disgrace to all of Asgard. Only through his Jotun blood they had found a reason to not play along with the royal courtesy anymore, showing their resentment up in the open.

But you...you looked at him with completely different eyes than anyone ever did.

Maybe he had become softer, weaker over time - or simply more mature. His mother once told him to seize the moment when someone truly special would cross his way, and to never let them go.

“We could do this more often.” You shoved the notepad in his line of sight, and just now he noticed that two hours had sure passed in an incredible speed.

Just the two of you, cuddled up on the sofa, enjoying each other’s presence instead of dealing with the troublesome past.

“Well...” Loki clawed into your upper arm softly, no intention of letting you out of his grasp already. “I am sure your other companions are more fun to be around. As you most likely already noticed, I am known for ruining the mood.”

Loki had a habit of talking ill about himself, and letting himself down as well. Yet as he saw you eagerly scribble on the notepad, he knit his brows together, impatient to what you’d say next.

“But I want to see you.” The word ‘you’ was written in a thicker font, underlined several times.

“Why?”, that was the first and only thing crossing his mind. And yet there you sat, shoving the notepad into his face with a stern look on your face.

Loki was rooted on spot as you put the notepad on the table, instead laying your hands on his cheeks and softly tugging on the edge of his lips. “S-m-i-l-e!”

“E-enough!” he carefully pushed your hands away, afraid you’d detect the mild blush on his face. “Then it shall be. What did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want.”

Loki finally arrived at the library to return his books, even though with a few hours delay. Realizing just how much he had enjoyed that spontaneous meeting with you, he began to panic.

Was it really a good idea to repeat this?

He was almost 100% certain that it would only end in him ruining your trust in anyone completely, if he’d ever allow you to come close to his core.

Due to him having saved you back then, you probably see him as something better than he actually was - and gods, how disappointed you’ll be once you’d find out what he really is like...

It was probably for the best if this would never happen, with him just keeping on to admire you from afar...

After a while of just staring into the void, mentally debating about your offer, he couldn’t help the fact that he was already looking forwards to meeting you again.

Uncertain how to approach the matter, Loki was at least eager to show you his goodwill.

For you have been the first person who - despite everything he had done - was willing to give him another chance.

"Greetings. I need every available book about sign language.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 296: Ngl, This One Pissed Me Off

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all, “p.s. I actually activated yet another quirk several chapters ago when Kacchan got stabbed.” Compress was all, “[gets captured and passes out].” Spinner was all “[rifles through Tomura’s pockets and slaps a random Charbroiled Hand onto his friend’s unconscious face].” Tomura was all, “SOMEHOW THAT ACTUALLY WORKED” and woke up again, except it wasn’t really him, it was everyone’s favorite Final Villain, AFO. AFO was all, “time to escape finally” and summoned a bunch of Noumu and Absconded with Spinner and the DabiMarble in tow. Skeptic was all, “Horikoshi forgot I existed, but I’m actually Absconding in marble-form as well.” Deku was all, “ATTENTION WORLD, I WOULD LIKE TO ANNOUNCE THAT I OFFICIALLY WANT TO SAVE SHIGARAKI TOMURA.” And then the arc just sort of ended lol.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all, “but when you think about it, do we really need literally any female teachers at U.A. at all?” and for whatever reason doesn’t stop to wait for an answer. Midnight, who absolutely did not need to die, Dies, and I’m pissed about it. Ochako wanders the ruins of Jakku for what feels like hours, rescuing small children while her adult hero compatriots fall to pieces around her, because apparently the U.A. kids really are the only people who have their shit together. The citizens of Japan are all “damn that’s wild, wonder how fucked we are now,” but are actually super casual and chill about it which is oddly realistic. The chapter ends with AFO in Tartarus being all “lol time for the prison break arc,” without giving us so much as a chance to catch our breath, like holy shit. Are we on the clock or something now, goddamn.

lmao it’s like 7pm on a Sunday night and this is out already. this is like the worst possible timing lol. there goes my nice, relaxed evening. unless of course this turns out to be a nice, restful, soothing chapter, as chapters coming on the heels of traumatic, earth-shattering battles so often are. yeah, break out the Pina Colada song and the little drink umbrellas, I got a good feeling about this one

(ETA: I mean, I was obviously being sarcastic here but damn, Horikoshi.)

-- fff why did I laugh

it’s the crumbling city ruins in the background that really does it, I think. JUST LOOK AT THIS MESS THAT YOU HAVE MADE, EVERYONE. FOR SHAME

also, the title is dramatic af and I am so fucking excited you guys, like holy shit. BnHA’s In-Between arcs have always been my favorite part of the series, because it’s when all the character development and angst and/or catharsis happens. just, those little breathing spaces in between the action when everyone gathers to recuperate and compartmentalize their fresh new traumas lmao. bring on that angst!! but also, let’s please have some Comfort to offset all of this Hurt too, please and thanks

blah blah blah so the survivors were evacuated, good good, can you actually show us though?

AHHHHHHH

PIXIE BOB SURVIVED!!!! WASH IS STILL ALIVE LMAO HOW. THIRTEEN’S FACE, OMG SHOULD I LOOK AWAY. IS IT LIKE MANDALORIAN RULES. IDK HOW IT WORKS

HOW THE FUCK ARE THEY ALIVE. LOLS ANYWAY I’M HERE FOR IT. FEEL FREE NOT TO KILL ANYONE ELSE HERE HORIKOSHI, I THINK WE’RE GOOD

(ETA: it’s like talking to a brick wall.)

oh my god do we really need exposition about how the heroes tried to stop TomurAFO from escaping and OF COURSE failed completely because they suck lmao. oh my god I am shocked, that is such shocking news

wow they only managed to defeat three of the Noumus. holy shit. again, all of the Not-Kid Heroes are only slightly more useful than cardboard cutouts of heroes at this point, MORE AT ELEVEN

so Tomura may have lost the PLF, but he still more or less has an army then, huh. I really don’t know how anyone could expect a timeskip with that threat looming over everyone’s heads

oh nvm lol there are only seven Noumus left. wait so you’re telling me there were only ten Nearly High Ends in that last chapter?? felt more like fifty but whatever lol I’ll take your word for it

COMPRESS YAY YOU’RE ALIVE TOO

MAYBE THEY CAN EVEN REATTACH HIS ASS. I’M SERIOUS LOL, BECAUSE HE STILL HAS IT, DOESN’T HE? OR IF NOT, THEY CAN REBUILD HIM WITH A PROSTHETIC ASS. he’ll be more powerful than ever

WHAAAAAAT YEAH BOIIIII

WOOO, EDGESHOT, WOOOOO. THAT’S HIS WAY OF THE NINJA

YEAHHHHH SUCK IT, PLF

(ETA: for the record I don’t think Cementoss is dead here, just badly wounded. if he had died he would have been included in the forthcoming In Memoriam page along with the others.)

GET BENT LOL. TRUMPET I FOR REAL FORGOT YOU EVEN EXISTED. I NEVER WANT TO SEE ANY OF YOU LOSERS AGAIN PLEASE. ONLY INTERESTING CHARACTERS MAY PROCEED PAST THIS POINT

dsflksaldkh;l

that’s... holy shit. that’s a bigass mansion, that’s what that is. also so does this mean there are still eighty thousand PLF members still at large, because that’s a plot line I very much do not care about in any way whatsoever lol. can’t we just retcon to say that Re-Destro was exaggerating? I mean hell, a CEO criminal pulling some Enron-type bullshit is pretty believable, isn’t it? those poor bamboozled shareholders

“makeste, here’s an idea, what if you scrolled down to read the rest of the page” lol gtfo of here with your logic and your sense

well those 132 people have made it onto my enemies list, but at least it sounds like they more or less took care of the rest. good riddance

and Toga escaped, as we knew already, and is now on the lam. hopefully she reunites with the League again at some point. although her doing her own thing could also be very interesting. idk what I want lol

anyway so there’s another big panel showing how fucked up the city is, just in case it hadn’t already been hammered into our skulls yet. there’s a car dangling off a roof somehow. how does that even happen. did Machia pick it up and put it there or

NOOO OMG RANDOM SMALL CHILDREN IN PERIL WHAT IS THIS

OCHAKO PLEASE SAVE THEM OMG

“if it falls on me, I want you to have my Endeavor pouch” OH MY STARS. HIS MOST PRECIOUS POSSESSION. NO MY CHILD YOU CAN’T GIVE UP HOPE YET

LMAO

“FOR THE LAST TIME NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR DUSTY-ASS POUCH, KYLE” fffff these children are dying and I am cracking up so hard my eyes are tearing up what is wrong with me

YAY THEY SAVED THEM

but listen. not that I don’t love seeing the girls kick ass, because you know I do. but I also really, REALLY need to know what’s going down with the Musketeers, and I’m not looking forward to waiting three whole weeks for that so please Horikoshi. please hurry this along so we can get to them

goddamn it Tsuyu is saying she’ll take the boy to the shelter to get first aid, and I was all “okay great because that’s probably where Kacchan and the others are too”, but now someone else is shouting for help and Ochako’s all “I’ll go” and it’s like OKAY BUT PLEASE? this chapter is already more than half over omfg. ‘bout to start wringing some hands here

oh my god

is this Toga again??? WHAT THE HELL, THIS CREEPYASS HALF-DEAD DUDE BETTER BE LEADING UP TO SOMETHING INTERESTING, I AM REALLY GETTING IMPATIENT

OR, I GUESS, WE COULD DO THIS INSTEAD

“SO AS IT TURNS OUT, NOT EVERY CHARACTER WHO NEEDS HELP SAVING THEIR SPOUSE FROM FALLEN RUBBLE IS ACTUALLY TOGA IN DISGUISE” HUH, OKAY. DULY NOTED. FILED AWAY FOR FUTURE REFERENCE

but fucking... okay, look. I love Ochako, I do. but I like her a whole lot more when she’s interacting with other characters I actually care about, as opposed to running around in the rubble rescuing random people while the fate of my other children is still up in the air. like okay, I get it, shit’s bad, now if you don’t mind we really don’t have to spend all day here though

...anyways but nope, we’re still staying with her. she’s bouncing around rescuing all of these other people. omg. I literally have no patience here at all and it’s terrible, I know, but oh my god

omg finally something interesting is happening!!

look at that, an adult hero standing around being useless while the kids are busy getting shit done. why is this becoming a recurring theme

MY DUDE, THIS IS SERIOUSLY NOT THE TIME THOUGH

I GET THAT IT’S OVERWHELMING AND THAT YOU’RE TRAUMATIZED AND SHIT, BUT GUESS WHAT, SO IS EVERYONE ELSE. THAT’S WHAT YOU SIGNED UP FOR. JUST LOOK AT OCHAKO! SHE’S SO EXHAUSTED HER HAIR HAS EVEN LOST ITS FLOOF, AND YET SHE’S STILL OUT HERE DOING HER BEST. ONE SAVE AT A TIME MY MAN. GET IT DONE. LITERALLY A SMALL CHILD IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT CALLING FOR THEIR MOMMY AND YOU’RE JUST STANDING THERE ALL “WAHH IT’S TOO MUCH” LIKE COULD YOU PLEASE POSTPONE YOUR CRISIS UNTIL AFTER YOU SAVE THEM PLEASE

OH MY GOD

MAYBE YOU SHOULD!! oh my god I really cannot, like wow. oh no I actually have to save people and do my job, god forbid. jesus christ, at least the other heroes tried. but Moping Hero: Bellyache here is just throwing in the towel and fuck everyone who still needs his help I guess. you are like the anti-Deku my dude

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD NO OH FUCK

THAT’S MIDNIGHT’S HAND OH FU -- SHE BETTER NOT -- HORIKOSHI I SWEAR TO GOD --

I’M GONNA LOSE IT I REALLY AM!!!!

HOLY SHIT HOW INTENSE OF A RAGE DO I NEED TO BRACE MYSELF TO BE FEELING HERE. THIS CHAPTER WAS ALREADY TRENDING TOWARDS DISAPPOINTMENT, DO WE REALLY NEED TO GO AND COMPOUND THAT

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

you’re telling me Tomura wasn’t brought back by that electric shock, but by his “fuck you” attitude? why are you explaining this to us now, again??

......

HEY, SO UM, FUCK ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS, THOUGH. (: OH MAN. OHHHHHH MAN. I HAVE... I HAVE GOT A LOT OF WORDS FOR THIS AND HERE ARE SOME OF THEM

FUCK

THINGS THAT SHOULD BE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO “SOME BULLSHIT”: THIS

FUCK

GET FUCKED HORIKOSHI

AND ALSO PLEASE FUCK RIGHT OFF!!

AND SERIOUSLY THOUGH FUCK YOU

NO BUT YOU KNOW WHAT THOUGH!! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED OFF ANYONE. LITERALLY ANY CHARACTER. YOU HAD TWELVE FEMALE PROS. TWELVE. YOU COULD HAVE MADE MORE OF THEM. PROBABLY, IF THERE ACTUALLY WERE SUPERHEROES IN REAL LIFE, THERE WOULD BE MORE THAN TWELVE OF THEM IN AN ENTIRE NATION. BUT NO, YOU WERE ALL “TWELVE IS MORE THAN ENOUGH.” AND THEN WHEN IT CAME TIME TO KILL PEOPLE OFF, YOU WERE ALL “WELL ALL RIGHT THEN, LET’S SEE, I PICK... THESE 18 RANDOM SIDE CHARACTERS WITH LITTLE TO NO DIALOGUE, PLUS THE ONE SINGLE FEMALE U.A. STAFF MEMBER WE ACTUALLY HAD. YEAH THAT OUGHTA DO IT”

AND BY THE WAY, HORIKOSHI, I PICKED SOMETHING UP FOR YOU ON MY WAY HOME, HERE IT IS, ┌П┐(・＿・) do you like it it was on sale. I saw it and was like, “Horikoshi would really like that.” so there you go. sorry it wasn’t gift-wrapped

p.s. I hope y’all can tell that that’s supposed to be a middle finger and not... something else lmao. er. anyway

(ETA: so I got a few asks from people who were really put off by this part of the reaction post, and so I’m just adding an extra note here to make it clear that I do not actually wish harm on Horikoshi in any way or even particularly dislike him. I wasn’t happy about Midnight’s death and I wanted to convey that, and so I went with my usual LOUD CAPSLOCK REACTION tone, but looking back on it I can see that it’s kind of a lot, lol. 

so just to be clear, the “fuck you” stuff is almost entirely tongue-in-cheek. that’s on me, I forget sometimes that there are people who share these sentiments unironically and so I didn’t think to make sure my intended meaning here was clear. anyways, killing Midnight was still a really problematic decision for numerous reasons but it is what it is. Horikoshi is not perfect, the story isn’t perfect, and I’m not gonna pretend like it is, but again just to be clear, I don’t harbor any actual ill will toward Horikoshi here.)

shit. and wow this man really went and killed off fucking Mystic too on top of that. have you ever seen a character fail so spectacularly at living up to their hype. r.i.p. Mystic you were like the Star Wars sequel of characters

(ETA: I have no fucking idea why I keep thinking Majestic’s name is Mystic lol. rest in peace you old scarecrowy bastard.)

and poor Momo, though. fuck. lost two mentors in a single day. and do not even get me started on Aizawa holy shit

so now we’re cutting to some random townspeople who are gossiping about the Todoroki drama. this is actually interesting in spite of my newfound determination to hate this chapter lol

ngl I am kind of heartened to see that not everyone fell for Dabi’s bs hook line and sinker though. Jeanist returning from the dead literally two seconds after Dabi was all “I SWEAR ON MY HONOR AS A VILLAIN THAT HAWKS MURDERED HIM” probably helped with that a bit! but there will doubtless be many other people who do believe him, or are at least still inclined to side-eye the heroes in general either way given how much they sucked in this arc. very, very interesting

so it seems though that even more than the whole Endeavor reveal, at the end of the day it’s going to be the heroes failing to live up to their end of the “put your faith in us and let us use our quirks and in return we’ll protect everyone and keep them safe” implied social contract that’s going to have the biggest impact on people’s opinions moving forward. basically this was always going to be a disaster no matter what

OH MY GOD FINALLY AHHHHH

Horikoshi really tapped into some of the real-life political energy of the past few years huh. Fuck Him Still for killing off Midnight, but I will admit that so far this is hella intriguing and I am really, really curious to see where things go from here

OH MY GOD THE LITTLE KIDS FROM THE BABYSITTING ARC

“FIVE PEEPEE MAN WOULDN’T LIE TO US” YES CHILDREN YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. at least the little ones still have faith

UM

 ( •̀ へ •́  )

that’s great. that’s really keen. all we need right now, amirite

GOOD FOR YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT

let’s just wait for him to explain what he feels. you know he likes to drag it out

is that Dabi crouched down there next to Spinner? looks like they got him out of the marble after all. but why has his hair changed colors again lol what

anyways. your turn to what??

:’) excuse me what

hahahaha are you fucking kidding me. and that’s where we’re going to end the chapter then. lol okay

so let’s recap. Midnight died. we spent ten hours watching Ochako dig people out of rubble for no apparent reason and were then introduced to my new least favorite character, and because Ochako is so nice she didn’t even punch him in the face even though she really should have. we did not get any Kacchan or Shouto. we got one panel of Deku, who is Finally Asleep. and the chapter ended with AFO ordering his Noumus to go set free, AND I QUOTE, HIS “MAIN BODY.” and now I gotta wait an entire week for Caleb’s translation to confirm that last part. omg

but it sounds like a prison break is imminent, which is very, very interesting. ...and actually, is it weird that I’m actually rooting for it to be a success? I have no idea what this guy is planning, but I do know that as long as the main part of his soul is still residing in Tomura’s body, Tomura’s chance of surviving the series is close to zero. and villain though he may be, I’m still rooting for his redemption (nice to have Deku on my side now too), and so yeah. so like if AFO feels like using some latent Exorcism Quirk or something that he’s been saving for just such an occasion, be my guest lol

meanwhile this doesn’t bode well for All Might though. or anyone else aside from Tomura, really. shiiiit

anyway. [slaps roof of chapter] this baby can fit so much bullshit in it

[mommymooze]

Big Girls, Big Hearts

The Golden Deer are devouring their lunch on a sunny fall afternoon. The conversation is lively as they are quite the boisterous bunch. Rumors are spreading about strange things happening in Remire Village. Everyone is working themselves into an anxious state about the perplexing rumors being overheard. Hilda decides it is time to lighten the conversation.

“You know, every year they hold a ball at the Academy. The students get the chance to get to know each other better in a more friendly environment and its sort of a reward for working so hard as well as a possible way to find future partners.” She grins widely.

“A ball?” you ask. “With dressing up and dancing? I’m a commoner. It’s only for nobles, right?”

Hilda scoffs. “No silly! It’s for everyone! Dancing and romancing!  Time to find love and intrigue, hugs and kisses.”

“Um, this is an optional event, right?” You ask nervously. You’ve never been to a ball. Never had to learn to dance. You would rather beat up 500 bandits than go to a single ball.

“Come on (y/n) . You are the bravest person I know. What’s so scary about a little dance? Getting to hold a special someone in your arms for a bit, maybe even a kiss in the moonlight…Ooooh so exciting!” Hilda clasps her hands together daydreaming wistfully.

“Maybe I can catch the plague by then.” You grumble at your empty plate in front of you.

“No! Don’t even think that. We are going to get you ready and dressed up and you will not believe how beautiful you will look.” Hilda stomps her foot at you.

“Yeah, like putting lipstick on a pig, but with fat swollen lips because I’m allergic to it.” You further groan.

“Pish Posh! We can accentuate your good qualities yet keep you comfortable. I may let you wear shoes with less than 3 inch heels even.” Hilda puts her finger on her chin plotting further ways of dressing you up.”

“Balls are for petite cute girls like you and Marianne. My arms are like tree trunks. I am bulgy and lumpy. Not a sweet and delicate flower such as yourself.” You moan on, hoping she gives up soon.

Hilda puts her hands on her hips. “Yes, I can be a delicate flower. I also wield an axe just like you. Those things are heavy and take strength to swing around. Yes, I will admit to having a few muscles. Not everyone wants a delicate maiden that falls over from the slightest breeze. Some want a good hunk of warm and loving body to squeeze them back until they can’t breathe. Everyone knows you are incredibly strong. Didn’t I hear about you carrying Dedue to the infirmary not that long ago? I bet Felix or Sylvain couldn’t do it at all, but you just whisked him up and hauled him across the monastery like he was a little kid and ran him up the stairs to the infirmary.”

You blush furiously. “What was I supposed to do? I walked into the greenhouse just as he slipped on the wet rocks and he was knocked out. I couldn’t just leave him there.” You are hiding your face in your hands, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

Hilda laughs. “(Y/n), We watched you carry him bridal style running to the infirmary. I heard that when he found out he blushed for a half hour straight.!”

You want to crawl under the table, settling for crossing your arms and burying your face in them.

Hilda tugs your arm, “We are hitting up the dressmaker in town. Gonna get you a killer dress, show off those muscular toned abs and legs, and get you set up for the night of your life.”

“Nightmare of my life more like.” You mumble to yourself.

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

The battle at Remire is terrifying. Thomas turns into a really creepy ghosty old guy. The Flame Emperor shows up being threatening. The worst part is the villagers. They are going crazy killing everything, even their own families. They didn’t know they are attacking their own loved ones, their own friends. The Deer try so hard to rescue as many villagers as possible. You work to subdue as many of the possessed ones you can. They are still someone’s family and hopefully the madness is temporary. When the battle is over you look at the village, not much is left of it. The smell of smoke and burnt everything is thick in the air, choking everyone, making their eyes burn.  Finally, after the cleanup is done and all the villagers are treated for injuries, it is time to head back to the monastery.

The Golden Deer are unusually quiet as they silently march back to the monastery. Even Hilda is quiet after what she had seen. Ignatz makes his way over to you as the group keeps walking back to the academy.

“You ok?” He softly whispers to you.

You take your sleeve and wipe the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, I just got a lot of smoke in my eyes there. Thanks.” You mumble back, hanging your head a bit lower than it was before.

It is a long walk back. Everyone finally makes it into the monastery gates and the group splits up, everyone going their own direction.

Claude takes you aside. “Are you going to be okay? I’d be happy to chat if you want to. The professor is a great listener too.” He says with a look of concern in his eyes.

You don’t know where your tears are coming from now. They haven’t stopped since you were in Remire village. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Professor Byleth comes over and puts her arm around your shoulder, leading you to her room. She pulls out a tea set and prepares tea.

“You know I lost my parents in a fire. Watching the village burn brought the whole thing back.” You stare down into your teacup.

“I’m sorry.” Byleth responds. Her face is not extremely expressive, but you can tell she is being very sympathetic from her body language.

“Do you think I can talk to Seteth about helping them out some? Isn’t this something like what the church would do? It is so late in the year and many of them don’t have secure homes to live in.” You ask, the tears slowing.

“My father and I spent a lot of time at that village. That was where the church found us.  I will talk to him as well.” Byleth nods.

You return to your room to try to sleep after such a nightmarish week.

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

The next morning you check with Seteth about assisting the village. You find that he has already spoken with Captain Jeralt and Lady Rhea feels that this is an excellent idea. After a few days of gathering supplies and materials, a small caravan heads out to Remire. Professor Byleth, the Golden Deer, Shamir, Jeralt and all his former mercenaries who had been incorporated into battalions, Alois and some of the Knights of Seiros, and surprisingly, Dimitri and Dedue.

The town elders meet with your group, discussing their wants and needs. Repairs to the structures that are salvageable should begin quickly. Tasks are divided between those that are experts in certain areas assisted by warm bodies that can lift, move or hand things to others. Ignatz is working on a map of the to be reconstructed village. Since assistance has arrived so quickly, there are fewer residents that will be leaving for other towns, happily staying now that they have some support. Everyone has something they can do. Cutting trees, clearing branches, gathering wood and kindling, sifting through burnt houses for useful items that can be salvaged like utensils, plates, and tools. The young go with the old to fields gathering heather, reeds, and straw for thatching the roofs.

You start with gathering salvaged bricks together to repair buildings. Even Lysithia can carry a few bricks at a time, you tell her 30 are needed at this house, 15 needed here. A few Knights head off to a local riverbank for sand and water to make the mortar.  You clean and prepare the bricks, measure the materials and have someone stir the mortar mixture. Soon you find yourself up on a ladder with a full mortarboard spreading an even layer of the compound, then place a brick, lay more mortar between it and the next brick. Starting with the smaller repairs first there are now several restored residences that will keep the wind and weather out.

As the sun goes down, everyone gathers in the center of town around large cauldrons full of soup, together with fresh baked bread made by the residents from the supplies brought by the Academy volunteers. Many of the townspeople are crying thanking everyone for their help. The Knights certainly push that this is by the grace of the goddess and the church. Others are simply happy to help in any way they can.

You grab some soup and take a seat near Dimitri and Dedue. They greet you and welcome your presence.

“I am surprised by your bricklaying knowledge. I had no idea of your talents.” Dimitri smiles.

“My older brother was a bricklayer, I helped him out often when I was growing up. I can’t wait to get my hands on some hammers and nails once the brickwork is complete.” You grin. “I am surprised to find the two of you here.”

“Hey your Princeliness, Dedue, (Y/n). Mind if I join you?” Claude takes a seat next to you. “We really appreciate your help. We did not expect other houses to send anyone.”

“I am very interested to see firsthand the reconstruction after disasters such as this.” The prince says excitedly. “It is wonderous seeing everyone come together with a single mindset of rebuilding. Everyone is helping in so many different manners. The strong are carrying bricks and trees, cutting wood, lifting loads. The weaker are preparing food for everyone, gathering materials and completing more delicate work. I am amazed at how much has been accomplished in just a single day.”

“Agreed. Many hands make light work.” Dedue nods. “I am happy to lend my strength.”

“Both of you are certainly welcomed with open arms. There is plenty of heavy lifting to do.” Smiles Claude. “I hope we can replace a few homes before we leave. Talking with the elders, there are some families doubled up in the same house. At least if each family has their own place it would be much more pleasant making it through winter.”

“Another important thing is to provide these people support and comfort.” You softly speak. “Let them know there are others out here who care for you as your fellow man. I do not know any of these people, but I do know about losing things to disaster. People that had no idea who I was helped me, kept me going when my life was crushed by disaster. Now here I am, helping out someone else that I have no idea as to who they are. I just want to help them. I hope it keeps them going as well.”

Dedue nods and smiles. The two house leaders agree that this is a great learning experience for everyone. You take the empty dishes leaving them to chat amongst themselves and head over to Byleth who is sitting with her father and their former mercenaries.

“Byleth, Jeralt. I wanted to thank you personally for helping bring this together. It didn’t sit right with me leaving these people behind and in such a ruined state.” You say, a smile finally crossing your lips.

“If Seteth would have said one word about not helping with this I would have punched that ‘No’ right off of his face.” Jeralt laughs. Byleth smiles. “This is a great learning experience for everyone. I think all of the classes should complete a project like this. Hands on learning is the most practical. Even Lorenz is finding some hidden talents as a result of this experience. I think he has a greater respect for Leonie too. That girl can turn a pile of trash into 100 different useful things.”

After dinner there’s not enough light to work on building without making it dangerous. So you decide to knit a sock or two. That way you can talk to everyone and when you’re done, someone has a new pair of socks. Win-win! There is plenty of chatter to go around the campfires with everyone in the village telling interesting stories of its history, or funny residents who did silly things, famous village romances or deeds. They also share stories of when the Blade Breaker came to town to save or help them. Being in a village isn’t all peace and quiet. There were some exciting and spicy tales shared until the cobwebs filled everyone’s heads and it was time to sleep.

The next day is just as busy with more homes being made whole by the end of the day. Construction is started on two different houses. One for a larger family, one for a smaller. Everyone gives their all in some way or another. Gathering kindling, firewood, food, finding the animals that were scattered by the calamity. Suddenly Saturday morning arrives, the last day the group from Garreg Mach will stay for rebuilding. What a difference everyone has made! Every family in Remire has their own place to stay without having to share. There are a long row of stalls for wares in the new Marketplace. There is even a barn and stable to keep horses for the community. Firewood is stored to keep the homes warm. It is everything the smaller village needs to get them through the winter. There is a celebration in the village center and tears are shed. However, these are all tears of joy as new friendships have been forged and the feeling of a job well done can be left with the people. The march back to the monastery is full of high spirits and happy hearts.

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

Back at the monastery you look forward to a warm bath and sleeping in your own bed. Just as you’ve changed into your nightgown there is a knock on the door.

“Um, I was just about to go to sleep. Can we talk tomorrow?” you anxiously respond to the knock as you stand at the door.

“It’s just me.” Says Hilda. “Come on. We’ve got some girl talk to do.”

You roll your eyes as the chipper pink ponytailed girl comes bouncing in your dorm.

“You haven’t forgotten the ball now, have you?” She winks.

“Oh yeah, that.” You stammer. You kinda sorta did forget.

“Tomorrow we’re going to town and getting a dressmaker to take your measurements. I know exactly what you need to wear.” She bubbles out excitedly. “I think you would be adorable in yellow. I saw the most darling shimmery satin material that would make you look like a princess.”

“A muscular, big shouldered princess.” You whine.

“Girl, you have no idea how to work with what you have, and you have a lot going for you.” Hilda smirks. “Now, I’ve been thinking. I know that you can’t wear lipstick, but I was hoping you can do some lip gloss. It has different things that go into it. Some are even flavored. Have you ever tried any?”

“Um. No.” You shrug sheepishly.

“Great! Hold still now.” Hilda has you in her grip as she plunks you down in your chair and starts carefully applying some gloss to your lips.  “There. How is it?”

You mush your lips together. They aren’t tingling or stinging. They don’t feel like they are getting fat. She pulls your mirror from your dresser to show you your lips.

“They’re just shiny.” You say, looking confused.

“Shiny is healthy. Gloss makes your lips slippery. It’s really good for you in the winter. When the cold air hits them, they stay soft and won’t peel. Your lips are really pretty. They’ll be lined up around the building wanting to get a turn to kiss those cute shiny lips.” The pinkette grins.

“But this is a dance. Where is the kissing coming from? Do I have to? I’m so confused.” You plunk back down on your chair with a big frown.

“Listen and listen good. Pretty soon we’re going to graduate, everyone is going to go their own way and you’re my friend and I’m just trying to help you get the most out of life. The ball isn’t just a celebration for nobles. It’s a chance to get to know the other students better in a different environment, a casual and fun environment. So many people have met the love of their life at this very same Academy event! Who knows what will happen on that glorious evening? The magic is calling for you, I can hear it!”

You look at her like she has two heads.

“Come on! Loosen up! I told you I will get you through this. Let’s start with the dance lessons. If you are dancing with a guy, he’s supposed to lead. If you dance with a girl, then either of you can lead, just agree who is to lead before you start. So I am going to lead. That means you put your left hand on my shoulder on the same side, and put your right hand into my palm on the other.” She grabs your hand and waits for you to put the other on her shoulder. “Good. Now don’t stomp on my feet, you have socks on, so put your toes on mine so you can follow me. The lead person is going to take their right foot and step forward, since you are following, you take a step back on your left foot. You will be moving backwards mostly, so the lead person watches to make sure you don’t crash into anyone…” Hilda goes through the basics of the box step for the waltz. You don’t quite crush her toes, and just maybe you do get the hang of it a bit. She tells you to look at her face, don’t look down. Stop looking down. Looking down will mess you up. You crash and fall over on the bed laughing once and she makes you get up and try again.

“Enough for your first lesson. You did great.” Hilda smiles. “So tomorrow after breakfast, we hit the dress shop.”

You yawn, “Sure…” and wave as you see her out the door. You would have bad dreams about going to the ball and stomping on everyone’s feet, but you’re too tired to even do that and actually just have a good night’s rest.

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

After breakfast Hilda practically drags you to town.

“Maybe I should just wear pants.” You grumble.

“Come on, you would look so cute!” She giggles.

“Cute is a bunny or a baby chick. I feel more like a silly goose.” You whine.

She hauls you into the dressmakers where a tall redheaded woman with a lowcut red dress assists you. “Hello dahlings.” She greets you at the door. Hilda curtseys, so you do too.

“Madame Palmyre, I’ve brought you another beauty in need of a dress for the ball.” Hilda proclaims.

“Hmmm. Hmmmm. Well. Athena. Hmmmm. No, Artemis! With the shoulders of Atlas. Oooooh. Yes.” Madame coos and ahhs as she walks around you touching your shoulders, lifting your head, raising your arms. “We must measure, quickly!” and shuffles you to the back where you are hastily stripped to your undergarments.

Madame’s hands work at a fast pace. She’s put special strings around various parts of your body, writing numbers down. Hilda stands next to her and they chitter and chatter with each other for a while. You decide to put your clothes back on.

“Lovelies, I shall have it ready two days before the ball. She will be magnifique!” Madame Palmyre raises her right hand with a flourish and a wide smile.

Hilda drags you to the cobbler to see what sort of shoes would be best. You glance at the boots longingly.

“No. “The Goneril girl shakes her head. “Cute. Not clunky.”

“Hilda, I have feet shaped like a duck.” You groan.

“Come on, work with me.” Hilda finally finds the shoes she is looking for. “Check this out. There is almost no heel, the toe is rounded but the way it is made, it gives you room for your wider foot to be comfy. Still cute!”

You look at the shoes, then at your friend. “I know you know what you are doing. I am so clueless. Just promise me I won’t want to cut off my feet by the end of the ball and I will wear whatever you want me to.”

“Gotcha, fam!” Hilda smiles as she puts in the order. The cobbler takes your measurements and says they will be ready next Sunday.

Hilda takes you to the final store of the day, which is great because this is really getting confusing and exhausting and overwhelming.

“Hey Mattie!” Hilda greets the owner. “We’re here for lipgloss and earrings.”

“But I don’t have pierced ears.” You look at her puzzled.

Hilda grins. “You will.”

You are a brave girl in battle. You fight and punch bad guys in the face. Intentionally letting someone stab holes in your ears is a whole different story. You were brave when they created the first hole and stuck the earring through. But when they stabbed your other ear with the needle, the needle that kept getting bigger the more you looked at it, the tears were shooting out of your eyes like rain.

“It’s done, its done. You’re fine! Look! So pretty!” Hilda is patting you on the back showing you the mirror. Mattie gives instructions to turn the earrings frequently and keep them clean. They should be well healed by the time of the ball. She helps you pick out some mint and honey flavored lip gloss.

You feel exhausted and overwhelmed. Not even fresh treats from the bakery tempt you. You just want to go back and hide. And maybe punch out a Duscur bear. Do something more familiar and relaxing.

That night you can’t sleep well. You always sleep on your side and no matter how you crunched up or mauled your pillow it still hurt your ears. You are going to die from lack of sleep long before the night of the ball. That is a welcome end, you think to yourself.

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

The next morning, dark circles hang heavily below your sleep deprived eyes, you barely make it to class in time. Lysithia notices something different as soon as she comes into the room.

“Your ears are pierced. That is so cute! I’ve been thinking about it. I may do that too some day.” The white haired girl muses.

“Hey (Y/n), Lysithia! Look who has more holes in her head! Just kidding.” Claude says as he taps his own earring while looking at yours.

Hilda strolls into the classroom followed by Marianne. They come to sit beside you.

“My ears are killing me. You better take good notes. I am going to sleep through class.” You warn the mischievous pinkette.

“And you’ll be cute doing it too. Yes, sometimes beauty can be painful, but it will go away soon.” Hilda tries to reassure you.

“I wish I could use magic on it, but it might make your earrings stick to your ears.” Marianne comments looking at her hands.

You rest your hands on your books and your chin on your hands. Nothing is touching your ears and you fall asleep before Hanneman comes in and starts his lecture about crests.

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

The excitement surrounding the ball continues. Your stomach starts to twist in knots every time you hear the word “Ball”. You have your new shoes and Hilda makes you practice dancing in them and walking around your room in them so they are broken in enough to not hurt you on the night of the..you know.

Hilda drags you to town the Sunday before the ball to get a fitting for your dress. She’s being a real stinker, because she makes you wear a blindfold so you can’t see it.  It comes with a special bustier, lifting your bust to be plump like a partridge (Madame Palmyre’s words). You had no idea what a bustier is in the first place. They picked and primped on you for a few minutes and then took the dress away, letting you get back into your comfy clothes. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, but you certainly wouldn’t battle in the dress, you chuckle to yourself.

Hilda continues with dancing practice. Marianne joins so you can observe them dancing as well. Marianne, the best dancer in the Deer glides gracefully across the floor. You feel like you are stomping around like a moose with four left feet. You are getting better though, you hardly step on Hilda’s feet any longer.

Soon, too soon, the fateful day arrives. The ball is this evening. They have classes in the morning so that everyone can get ready or in your case, panic in the afternoon. You just know you have a fever, you’re sick to your stomach. You should go to the infirmary so they can pronounce you on the brink of death and give a written note excusing you from the…the thing.  Class finally ends, before you can escape, Hilda, Annette, and Dorothea grab you and physically take you to Hilda’s room for hairstyling and makeup. You try to excuse yourself because you forgot your lipgloss, but they are on to you and will not let you go. You have no idea how they can fit so many females in the same room and still have room to work on them all. You hope you can escape when getting lunch, but no, they are too evil and have lunch brought in for everyone.

“(Y/n), I have the perfect jewelry to match your look.” Hilda giggles. She holds up gold crescent moon earrings, bracelet, and a matching necklace. Many “oohs” and “ahhs” are heard from the others. The stones in the bracelet are perfect, they are a pale yellow and black, matching the colors of the dress. Hilda sends you off to your room with Annette and Dorothea to get you into your dress. The songstress shows you how to put on the sheer and dotted with gold sparkles thigh high stockings without ripping them, teaching you how to fasten them to the garter belt. They adjust the lacing of the bustier so that you can breathe easily and move, yet your bust is enhanced, which is quite embarrassing, but then you look over at Dorothea and she’s super enhanced and ready to spill over the top of hers any second. Finally they help you lift and pull the dress on. Soft yellow chiffon at the top, gathered under the bust into its empire waist. A black airy stretchy panel starts there and goes to the bottom of the dress, flaring out a bit. The front is just past your knees, the back a few inches above your ankles. It visually pulls your waist in. Dorothea has that perfect hourglass figure with a waist so tiny that you could almost enclose it with your hands. You have much more um, meat, around your waist, the muscles alone make you twice as wide as her, but with the black panel it flares so you really do look, dare you think it, feminine. You thought the slightly puffy sleeves would make your shoulders bigger, but they just give you more freedom of movement. This is the most comfortable and beautiful dress you have ever worn. Madame is a magician.

Dorothea nearly has tears in her eyes. “Our baby looks all grown up.” She sniffles.

“Wow.” Declares Annette. “I need to meet this seamstress. She really knows her stuff. Its like you’ve been magically transformed. If I didn’t know it was you under there (y/n) I would say it was a different person.

“Come on, you are going to make me cry.” You were emotional before, but seeing the whole outfit, you do feel like the princess Hilda wanted you to look like.

Suddenly it is time for everyone to head to the ball. Many of the women head off to meet their dates. Hilda and her date, Marianne, look adorable together. They have the same purple flowers in their hair and their dresses complement each other perfectly. They walk with you toward the sound of music playing. The students are filing into the large room for the dance, the variety of colors and styles are striking. Everyone looks so beautiful.

You wander over to where the Golden Deer have congregated on the side of the room. Raphael is wearing a shirt that fits across his chest, although his muscles in his arms still look like they are about to burst through the sleeves.

“Hey, (y/n). Glad to see ya. You sure look pretty.” Raphael grins. You take it as an amazing compliment, he usually only notices food.

Ignatz is nervously pulling at his collar. “I haven’t been to a Ball before. The monastery really went all out for this. The food, decorations, and presentation are a work of art.”

The house leaders are called to the front accompanied by Hilda, Hubert, and Mercedes. They perform a special dance together that includes changing partners. Of course, Claude has to ham it up by dipping Edelgard who is a bit shocked but recovers well from the unexpected move. The special dance ends and the surrounding students now fill the dance floor.

Leonie sits next to you with a plate of appetizers and sweets. “Go grab some food, (y/n). They have some amazing things on the banquet tables. I tried this gray stuff, it’s delicious.”

You quickly shake your head. “My stomach is so jittery. I’ll stick with apple juice.” You weakly smile as you take a sip.

Looking to the left, there is an anxious Lysithia trying to drag a dressed-up Cyril out to the dance floor. You laugh because he looks more nervous than you. Hilda has Marianne out on the floor, the couple gliding along smoothly like the floor is made of ice. Annette is smiling widely as Ashe is guiding her safely around the other couples. They look too cute.

“Ahem! (Y/n)” you suddenly hear a male standing next to you, breaking you from your trance.

You jump a little in your seat to see the Prince of Faerghus bowing low and asking you for a dance.

You stand up and stammer, “Oh, yes. Thank you.” You place your right hand into his left as he leads you among the dancing couples. Hilda’s dance practice pays off as you have yet to stomp on the Blue Lions leader’s feet or trip over your own. You chat about how happy he is having participated in the rebuilding of Remire and how some day he will rebuild Duscur as well. Just as the song ends, he bends closer to your ear.

“I think Dedue would like to have a dance with you as well. He is a bit shy, but if you wait patiently close by him he may gather enough courage to ask you, unless of course you ask him first.” Dimitri smiles as your face turns completely red.

You can feel the burn of the blush all the way to the back of your neck.  You curtsey as the song ends and he leaves to find another partner. You just happen to be close to where Dedue is standing, the tall man is against the wall, his hands behind his back, eyes flitting from couple to couple. You decide to stand not far from the Duscur male.

Watching the students dance, Claude pulls Professor Byleth out onto the floor. You laugh at the shocked look on her face. Balthus is dancing with Manuela. He has a grin from ear to ear as he twirls her around, making her laugh. Perhaps this is what everyone needs, to have a night to forget about their problems and issues going on and simply enjoy themselves, if just for a little while. You find yourself swaying with the music as you look over at Dedue who takes a step towards you.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” Dedue asks softly, smiling pleasantly.

“Yes. I was not looking forward to it, however now that I am here it is nice. It is good to see our friends simply being happy.“ You answer him. “Would you like to dance?”

Dedue bows, “It would be my honor.” He says, taking your hand in his.

He is so incredibly tall. The top of your head is well below his shoulders. You have to crane your neck to look into his face, but it is worth it to see his gentle smile.

The white haired man looks down at you, “You are small.”

You nod as you smile, trying not to laugh because compared Dedue, absolutely everyone is small.

Dedue continues, “You are very strong.”

You blush, mashing your forehead into his chest. This giant man just said you were strong.

He is not finished. “And cute.”

Your ears are burning because you are blushing so hard. You’ve never been cute before. You’re having a hard time looking into his eyes while you are blushing so hard, so you decide to focus your sight on his strong handsome chin. Breathe, don’t forget to breathe.

“You have many wonderful talents. Not only fighting and helping Dimitri.” You tell Dedue, daring to look in his eyes again. “In the village I was impressed by your construction skills. Your assistance helped us complete more buildings than we had originally planned. Thank you.”

You both smile at each other as you continue to dance for the rest of the song, as it ends, you curtsey, he bows.

Before you take one step toward exiting the dance floor, Claude mysteriously appears behind you, taking your right hand in his. He kisses the back of your hand.

“May I have this dance, my Deer?” Claude smiles widely at you.

“I cannot say no to our Leader-man. That would be against the rules. Not that you pay much attention to rules, Claude.” You laugh as you place your left hand upon his shoulder.

Dancing with Dimitri and Dedue had been proper and elegant. Their steps carefully measured, in perfect time with the music. Dancing with Claude is like holding on to a leaf in a whirlwind. You moved up, then down back then right then spun and twirled. One time he had spun you around you thought he was trying to fling you into the middle of the orchestra. You think it strange, then funny, then you begin to laugh. He twirls you away from him, then pulls you to twirl the opposite way around toward him, your chest lightly crashing into his as you laugh together.

His steps suddenly fall back in with the tempo of the music, you following. Your laughter calming, you gasp a bit as you are slightly out of breath, and dancing very closely with Claude. You feel his right arm around you, his fingers close to the center of your back, his chest is warm against you.

“Hilda told me that if I play my cards right that I might get to dance with a beautiful princess tonight.” Claude purrs softly in your ear. “I think I have a winner here.”

You blush profusely, trying to look away from his dazzling emerald eyes and failing. Claude’s grin is as wide as you have ever seen it. Suddenly the music concludes. The orchestra takes a brief break.

He bows and you curtsey back.

“Thank you, princess (y/n).” Claude Grins.

“Thank you, Duke von Riegan.” You smile.

Hilda runs up to drag Claude off to gossip about who knows what as you grab a seat and catch your breath. You will have to honestly thank Hilda for making you go to this. You catch your breath in the quiet during the orchestra’s break. Your heart has simmered down after beating at such an excited rate for so long.

You glance about the room. Looking left you see the orchestra has returned, preparing to begin, to your right you see two different redheaded gentlemen headed your direction. Oh my…

[coldmorte]

Honestly if Dutch van der Linde curb stomped me I would probably thank him, no questions asked, and I think you'll say the same-

OKAY.

You know me WAY TOO WELL. I was thinking about this ALL day and smiling to myself because it’s SO TRUE. I mean, what a conversation starter and one hell of an amazing story to tell… in the event of survival.

Also, I was quite captivated by this idea (and apparently quite bored). It’s been a long ass week, I needed to blow off steam, and you planted the idea in my mind.

SO I BLAME YOU FOR THE SHORT STORY THAT CAME OUT OF THIS 😵

This has to be one of the worst things I have EVER WRITTEN and definitely the worst post I have EVER made on the internet.

I am straight-up warning you right now - you probably don’t even want to read what this turned into. I hesitated as to whether or not I should even post this because it is SO BAD, but I figured… what the hell? What do I have to lose? I don’t give a damn. (This blog WAS reputable once upon a time, I swear....)

Aside from the internal shame I bear and my strong desire to forget this, I will give one other major warning… VIOLENCE. This is a bit graphic, but hey… I didn’t bring up the idea. I merely brought it to life. 🤷‍♀️

Sooooo with that in mind, PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK. YOUR EYES AND MIND WILL FOREVER BE CURSED, BUT IF YOU ACCEPT THOSE TERMS, GO AHEAD. 😈😈😈😈

(PS if anybody is considering unfollowing me because of this post, I do not blame you one bit. But also, I promise it isn’t always like... this.)

I heard him before I saw him.

The sharp click-clack of his boot heels echoed loudly as he marched down the paved avenue. It was a harsh sound - heavy, but quick. There was a clear purpose in the steps. In the dead of night like this, nobody would dare to venture out without a good reason.

It had to be him.

Taking a drag from my cigarette, I smiled to myself as I lifted my head and blew the smoke towards the stars overhead. My eyes watched as it curled and twisted against the backdrop of the night sky, eventually dissipating into the vast heavens above.

When I finally lowered my chin, I could see his figure rapidly nearing out of the corner of my eye. I dropped the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with my foot. Still, I kept my head turned away from him. I wasn’t about to give him my attention that easily.

“You.”

The tone of his voice was deep and heated as he confronted me. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground as I saw him try to stand in my line of sight and force me to look at him, which only encouraged me to tuck my chin closer to my chest. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I could feel my lips pulling into a wider smile.

“Look at me.” His voice seethed with so much fury, he didn’t even have to raise it to convey the emotional gravity of the words. Even so, I refused to give in that easily. He would have to do more than that if he was going to get what he came for.

Seeming to catch onto my resolve, his hands lurched forward and grabbed me by the jaw. He pulled my face upwards and held it there, forcing me to look into his eyes. It was hard to speak with his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my cheeks as he pinned my head to the wall. I could barely mumble out, “Hello to you as well, Dutch.”

Not even taking the time to allow for decent civility, Dutch ignored the greeting and got straight to the point. “Where are they? What did you do with them?”

I squirmed slightly under his touch as I moved my hands up to grip at his wrists. Tugging them downwards, he allowed them to be moved to my shoulders instead. However, his grasp tightened as he leaned his face closer to make up for the change. I knew better than to step out of line or push him anymore than I already was, but -

“With what? I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

Involuntarily, my hands reached forwards and clutched at the fabric of his waistcoat to steady myself as he shoved me harder into the wall. I practically hummed at the feeling of the tight muscles of his chest beneath, biting my lip to suppress my ever-growing smirk. Even in the dim light, I could see his eyes narrow as his face pulled into a fierce scowl. The vein in his forehead throbbed with intensifying anger as he hissed out his next words. All this energy, all this attention…. just for me.

“You know what! MY GODDAMN EVELYN MILLER BOOKS!”

At that remark, I couldn’t hold it back any more. I felt my lips part into a wide grin as I flashed my teeth at him. I knew I was toeing a fine line here - quite a precarious one, to be more exact. My own eyes narrowed as I relished in the pure mirth of the situation. Dutch would have to kill me before I’d give that information up.

“Come on, you’re the one always saying we need more money. Miller’s entire collection, all signed first editions? They’re worth more money than the entire gang could earn in a month, maybe two.”

Silence.

It was as if time itself froze. Even the breeze and the insects of the night became mute.

Then, those brown eyes flashed with a glimmer of rage as they widened. His lips fell open in an inaudible gasp as the fingers dug into my shoulders with bruising strength. Voice uneven and barely above a whisper, it was filled with cracks as he snarled back, “You… sold my books?”

It started in my chest - a shake. Quiet, at first. But steadily, it crept up my throat and out my mouth.

A laugh.

The look on his face - the horror of it all - evolved into something comical beyond the wildest depths of my imagination. I could not resist.

“How else are we gonna get to Tahiti?”

Even underneath my chuckles, I could hear it. Or maybe, felt would be a better word. An exhale so indigent and ferocious it came out as more of a growl. It shook his whole body, all the way down to the tips of his fingers still holding my shoulders against the wall.

But it was short-lived.

In an instant, I felt the breath get knocked from my lungs as those strong arms ripped me away from the wall and threw me to the ground. I grunted at the mere speed and agility of it all, but as soon as I was able to recover from the shock, I could feel the quivering sensation again.

Laughter, louder this time.

My whole body trembled from the sensation as I lifted my head. I was on my stomach now with Dutch somewhere behind me. Drawing an arm inwards, I moved to push myself upwards. I felt weak as a whole range of emotions coursed through my body - shock, amusement, terror, achievement...

Raising my head, I could see the curb of the street in front of me. Figuring I could use it as a place to hoist myself up, I began to crawl my way towards it. However, he was quicker. Just as I planted my palm on its brick edge, the sole of his boot dug firmly into my back and pinned my face against it.

The laughter was muffled, but it continued on. My mouth was propped up against the hard surface of the curb as the rest of my body remained in the street.

Dutch said nothing, but the more my laughter continued to escalate, the harder his boot gouged into my spine.

Until, he paused.

Pulling his foot away, the pressure disappeared. I was free from his power.

For a second.

My lungs felt like they collapsed in on themselves, the laughter dying on my lips as my face was crushed into the brick curb with such brute force that my entire vision went blank. I could feel my front teeth snap as the remnants rebounded against the roof of my mouth.

But I was still breathing. I was still awake.

Barely.

I could taste the blood from my gums burning the tip of my tongue as I drew in an unsteady breath. His foot was no longer on my back, but I knew he was still there. He wouldn’t just leave me.

Mustering up all the strength I could, I rolled myself over. Eyes blinking open slowly, it was hard to see at first. The world was a messy blur, hazy and clouded over with spots of black.

And yet, through it all, I could still see him.

Still standing over me, Dutch was staring down at my crumpled body. I tried to blink a few times, but I was seeing double of everything. I could think of nothing to do, except for…

Laugh.

What more could I do? My jaw hung limply open, the cacophonous cackling coming out in pained chokes of breath and labored coughs. I could see the shape of his body as it leaned forward, a hand brushing along my cheek.

I had to say something, I had to…

“D…”

His hand froze. My entire face burned with relentless agony. He had won. It was over.

And yet, I could not give up. Not just yet. I had to get it out.

My final word.

“D… daddy…”

The sensation felt so distant and removed from my body, but I could feel it nonetheless. A rumbling laughter - weakened, but most certainly still discernible - returned to my chest as he snatched his hand away. Standing above me once again, I could hear the click of his gun as he pulled the hammer back.

“You never learn, do you?’

With that, an intense ringing filled my ears. It was deafening at first, but as my vision plunged into nothingness, it slowly faded away.

All that remained was my dead body and the broken grin plastered across my face, forever preserving my final moment of overwhelming pleasure and gratitude.

 ---- FINE ----

Note: I was thinking about this. I honestly have no idea how I would say the “th” in “thanks” without teeth, so I’d probably resort to showing my appreciation through excessive joy instead… and by taking my last moments to sneak you-know-what-word in there. I think I could manage that without teeth.

Hehe. Anyway, this is still WAYYY out of character for me. I just was in a reallyyyyyy weird mood, and I’ve always had too vivid of an imagination. Please, forgive me. I am done now. (If you DID read this far, I am genuinely curious to hear your thoughts on my absolutely horrific garbage, though) 🙃

HAVE A GREAT DAY 💜💜💜💜

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter three: time is coming

Sam kept her hands on the wheel and her foot hovered above the gas pedal. Tall banks of snow lined the sides of the highway as they made their way over Donner Pass. Another few hours and they would be back in the Bay Area. They were allowed to go over just so long as they were able to keep it all together along the way.

Everything she had heard about driving on an icy wintry road was not to slow down. Not too fast, though, but do not, under any circumstances, slow down.

She couldn't hardly shake the fact that she was driving a two ton coffin made of metal which in turn towed a single ton projectile of cold metal and plywood.

Eric and Alex were silent the whole way over the mountain pass: at one point during a flat stretch of road, she peered over at the former there in the front seat next to her and the fact that he was hunkered down in the seat a little more than before they began the ascent into the mountains. She took a glimpse into her rear view mirror over her head at Alex hunkered down in the back seat there.

Either they were in fact nervous or she hadn't turned on the heater all the way.

She took a glimpse down to the dials: the heater was in fact on.

“Are you guys okay?” she asked them with a slight clearing of her throat.

“This is crazy,” Eric confessed.

“Yeah, this is something so bizarre,” Alex added.

“It’s okay—Alex, you and I have been on this road together before.” She took another glimpse into the mirror over her head at him.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like this, though,” he pointed out.

“Push comes to shove, we’ll bunk in the trailer until the clouds clear out some more,” she assured them, “because you fellas look like you’re about to get beaned in the head with something hard and heavy.” She returned to the road and that time around she felt so much stronger and more powerful than before.

Two boys, both of whom she had her tongue wrapped around, right there in the car next to her. She had it right there as she walked the fine razor’s edge with the faint glimmers of obvious black ice upon the pavement all around them. The road wound up ahead of them.

Miles and miles of it all.

Something so intense about it. Intense, and rather erotic.

The possibility that the three of them could go off the road, or that the trailer could jackknife and pull the whole thing sideways, and they could die together. The three of them, dying together. Eric's words rang through her mind right then: death and desire go hand in hand.

As they rounded a bend in the road, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. She took a fleeting glimpse down to the center console and Eric’s hand there right next to his thigh, as if his hand was cold.

Another curve in the road, followed by a grand view of the mountains and the thick layer of pure white snow.

She swore he moved his hand a bit to the parking lever: meanwhile, in the back seat, Alex hunkered down inside of his jacket as if he was freezing. Sam peered into the rear view mirror once again, at the sight of the little gray plume atop his head and his sharp eyebrows.

“Warm enough back there, Alex?” she called to him.

“My feet are cold,” he confessed, “I've got my blanket over my legs, but my feet are absolutely freezing, though. I’m also feeling a draft back here, too.”

“Aw—you got the window rolled up?”

“It’s cracked a tiny little bit,” he said with a bit of a grunt. She peered back at him again, that time to watch him roll up the window a bit more.

But within time, the road sank down into the snowy hills, there on the other side on the way over to Sacramento and right in the face of the setting sun. If nothing else, they could stop there for the time being and hang out over the night in order to rest their minds and cold bodies. Eric shivered and shook in his seat right there next to her.

Sam took another glimpse at him once they reached another straight stretch of road, albeit a surprisingly dry one.

“You alright, Eric?” she asked him.

She returned to the road for another moment and then she came back to his hand, which he had put there right above the parking lever and he never moved for a second.

“I'm freezing,” he confessed.

“Are you getting any heat?”

“I am, but I'm still utterly freezing.”

“Okay—we're almost into the valley. We'll stop for the night and then we'll hitch up the trailer somewhere—”

“Um—Samantha?” Alex called to her.

“Uh huh?” She took a glimpse into the mirror and the reflection of Alex's grimace.

“What's the matter?”

In the reflection, he peered over the backs of the seats and into the rear window.

“Alex? What happened?”

A sinking sensation emerged in her chest.

“No,” she breathed out.

He pursed his lips together and his face turned the same color as fresh porridge.

“No, no, no, no, no, no—no—no—no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—no, no, no, no, no—no—no—no—no—no—no—”

She paused for a second to find Alex's eyes wide like big marbles.

“No!”

Eric shuddered in the seat and brought the lapels of his coat up closer to his face.

Sam peered into the rear view mirror to ensure that no one was behind them. She then merged over to the right lane and she took the next exit into Colfax, there in the snowy hills of the Sierra Nevadas. She pulled over there right off of the offramp and she yanked on the parking lever and killed the engine. She buried her face in her hands and groaned in her throat.

“Oh my fucking god,” she blurted out in a muffled voice. She peered out the windshield at the buildings there on the sidewalk on the other side. The gray cloud cover on the sky began to turn an even darker shade of gray. At least they were out of the mountains.

“Where do you think we could've lost it?” Alex asked her in a small voice.

“God, I don't know,” she confessed as her heart hammered in her chest. “At least it wasn't over Sonora Pass or, god forbid, Tioga.”

“What do we say to Chuck, though? That's what I'm freaking out about.”

“Let's just tell him the truth,” Sam assured him. “We were going over Donner Pass and you just happened to look out the window and you saw that the trailer was gone. Hope he didn't have an attachment to that thing...” She fetched up a sigh in hopes to calm down her heartbeat. “Well, we've gotta do something, though, Alex. It's getting dark and Eric is a popsicle.”

Alex leaned forward and he looked over at Eric himself and the blank expression on his face.

“Hey—” He reached over and tapped on the side of Eric's face. He never moved. “Hey!”

Nothing. Eric sat there with a look on his face as if he had seen a ghost.

“Too bad I don't have my amp with me,” Alex told her. “I'd plug in my guitar and rip some Mercyful Fate for him. That always wakes him—”

He abruptly stopped and his eyes widened even more.

“Oh, no, don't tell me!” Sam exclaimed.

Alex bowed his head and rested his forehead on the top of Sam's seat.

“NO!”

“Mine was in there, too,” Eric finally said in a low voice.

Sam clasped her hands to her mouth. The three of them sat there in stunned and horrified silence. Wherever the trailer went, there was no way they were finding those little amps again.

“I've had that amp since I was taking lessons from Satch,” Alex groaned out as he lifted his head. “Fuck—”

Eric closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. Alex ran his fingers through his dark hair.

“But you know what I am glad about?” he told her in a low voice.

“What's that?” she asked him.

“That I wasn't in there.”

She gaped at him and her heart sank once again.

“Oh—right?”

She let out a low whistle and her breath appeared right before her in the form of light wisps. It was getting cold again.

“Okay—um,” she began again as she returned to the steering wheel, “well, we're in Colfax, almost to Auburn no less. We're almost home and it's not like when you and I—” She turned to Alex again. “—got stranded at Tahoe. We're actually near civilization this time, you know, not just a bar and a bunch of houses.”

“It's not snowing either,” he muttered as he peered out the windshield.

“Right, and it's not snowing. And we're almost home, too. Don't worry, I have some money. We'll stop and get dinner—I don't know about a room, though.”

She froze right in her tracks.

“What's the matter?” Alex asked her.

“Oh, no.”

“What?”

“My mom's tupperware was in there, too!”

“Oh, man!” Eric declared as he clapsed a hand to his head.

“Her tupperware and the pot she lent me, too,” Sam added. “But like I said before, though.”

“Just tell the truth,” Alex sputtered.

“Right.”

“Let's get moving again,” Eric advised her with a shiver.

“Yeah, now you're looking cold,” Sam told him.

“I feel like I'm gonna puke, too,” Alex groaned as he leaned back in the seat again.

“Don't blame you, dude,” Eric said.

“Just don't do it in here,” Sam advised him as she started up the car again. “Too bad neither of us have beepers 'cause I'd call up Chuck right now and tell him what happened.”

“Marla has one of those bricks, though, doesn't she?” Eric asked her as she turned the heat back up.

“But that's Marla, though,” Alex pointed out.

They rolled forward into the darkening street and towards the restaurant there at the end. All Sam could think about was how she lost her mother's containers and that one pot, but she need not stay wrapped up inside of it all as the three of them huddled into the far corner of the room.

Alex turned his head to the right side of the room.

“Samantha, do you see this over here?” he asked aloud, and he glanced over at Sam with a twinkle in his eye.

“What is it?”

He gestured over to the black and white photograph hung up on the wall right next to him. It was of a statue, which appeared to be a small cherubic angel that danced with a devil. The stone it had been crafted out of was smooth and polished to the point it resembled to soap.

“Wow,” Sam muttered. Eric looked up at the photograph as well. Alex stood to his feet for a better look at the label underneath the actual photograph.

“Taken from the Metropolitan—back in New York City—a marble statue of an angel and a demon, titled 'the Dance of Heaven and Hell'. Artist unknown, but supposedly from the Italian Renaissance.”

“It looks Italian,” Eric declared.

“Purchased by the museum for only a hundred dollars!” Alex chuckled as he returned to his spot right next to Sam.

“Imagine if you had something you made purchased by a big museum like that for a tiny price tag like that,” he said to her.

“What if it isn't worth much, though?” she asked him.

“Great art transcends price,” he told her as he took a sip from his water glass. “If you had it bought like that for a couple of bucks and gets valued, and the value is huge, that's where the bank comes in.”

“Really?”

“That's what I've heard, anyways—and just from reading about things like that, too,” he continued. “But when you're a great artist, though, that's when none of it matters.”

“You think I'm a great artist?” Sam asked him with a small smile on her face.

“You think she's a great artist?” Eric echoed her.

“From the pieces I've seen, anyway,” Alex said as he set his hand on the other side of his glass.

Within time, the waiter returned for them: she asked for a big bowl of clam chowder, complete with all the bread and crackers. The boys both asked for stroganoff, something to warm them both up as they sat there in that chilly restaurant together. The clouds outside the window collected some more and Sam knew more snow was upon them. At least they were headed the other way that time around; she yearned for the warmth and the safety of a trailer.

Eric adjusted the lapels of his jacket. It wasn't that cold in there, but she wondered if he had an extra chill that time around. Alex even shivered himself right there next to her: he shook his jet black helmet of hair and the little plume of gray wiggled a bit.

“What exactly quantifies a great artist, anyway?” Sam wondered aloud.

“A great artist not only makes you feel something but takes you out of the world a bit,” Alex replied, “I dunno, that's my definition of it, anyways. I would think it's something that's completely based on other people's interpretation of the phrase.”

“A great artist mops the floor with all the other run of the mill artists and the supposedly good artists,” Eric said in a single breath.

“Exactly!” Alex bowed his head forth and belted out with laughter.

Within time their food arrived and those two boys were quick to wolf down their stroganoff: Alex almost dropped his fork on the floor while Eric already down two bites of beef and egg noodles.

“My goodness, you fellas are hungry,” she noted as she set her napkin down on her lap and picked up her spoon.

“Hungry and cold,” Alex corrected her once he swallowed down a large bite of pasta. He drank down another gulp of ice water as if he was dying of thirst.

But then again, Sam didn't realize how hungry she was, either, as she took a bite of chowder, with all those cubed potatoes and fresh clams with a touch of herbs. The bread was soft and fresh right out of the oven. The three of them feasted on their dinner and all the while Sam wondered where they would go for the night.

Alex did have the blanket there in the back seat with him. At least that time around, they were in fact closer to civilization but there was no way Sam could pass up the chance to be nestled right in between those two boys, especially with their stomachs warm and full: Alex himself was enjoying his stroganoff a bit too much as every time he took a rather large bite, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

Joey burst into Sam's mind right then. It felt so long since she had seen him or even heard from him. She hoped that Anthrax were doing okay over there in New York and she wondered if they were in fact about to do their new album like Charlie had promised. It would in fact be nice if they made the new one with all five of them, and she knew they would come on strong just so long as Metallica kept it together there as well.

If nothing, she could search for a payphone there in Colfax and call him up to check in on him. She also needed to call both of her parents to tell them that they made it to the other side of the Sierras.

Sam ran her fingers through her dark hair as she took another bite of clam chowder, followed by another. Within time, she had finished her soup as well as the bread.

“So you boys wanna bunk out in the car or should I get us a room?” she asked them.

“I'm afraid that, by the time you get us a room,” Alex began as he took one last sip from his glass of water, “I'm gonna fall asleep standing up. I'm sure Eric is about ready to, too.”

“Yeah, I pretty much am,” Eric confessed as he fetched up a yawn.

“Okay, but I have to call my parents first, though,” she pointed out as she finished off her glass of water as well.

“Think I better call mine, too,” Alex confessed; he rubbed his eyes and he slid out of his seat and onto the floor. He was so full that he almost lost his balance, but Sam was quick to capture him. Eric lingered back with his face propped up in the palm of his hand as the two of them made their way across the floor to the payphones by the bathrooms. She brushed hips with him and he almost staggered back a bit. Alex chuckled and he reached for the phone on the right.

“You got any change?” he asked her.

“I've got tons of change,” she told him as she reached into her purse for her wallet. She handed him a few quarters and he turned back to the phone on the wall. Sam turned to the one before her and she inserted a couple of quarters for herself. She dialed Ruben's number first: he wasn't home and thus she left a quick message for him. The same went for Esmé. Another pair of quarters into the phone and she dialed Joey's number: at that point, Alex had already hung up the phone and he turned to Sam, complete with his right hand up on the wall above him and his left hand on his hip.

She turned to him with the phone receiver up to her ear. His eyelids drooped a bit from the warm sensual feeling inside of him as well as something else. He nibbled on his bottom lip when Joey's voice crackled on the other end of the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Joey.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at her.

“Sam?”

“Yeah. Who else would it be?” She giggled at that.

“Oh, just kinda sorta playin' wit' ya.”

She giggled at him when Alex reached for her hip. She swerved back a bit when he cracked her a devilish smirk.

“What have you been up to lately?” she asked him.

“Oh, my god—about a month ago, I got a call early in the morning from Danny—Danny Spitz—tellin' me that the studio burned down.”

“Holy shit, really?”

“Yeah.”

Alex raised both eyebrows at her.

“Yeah, we lost like a hundred grand worth of stuff in the whole thing,” Joey continued. “So we've been going in and out of the whole thing just to make sure the master tapes are still intact when we take 'em into mastering. We've all been kinda freaking out because we're like, 'oh, fuck, what if it's rushed', you know?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she replied as Alex lingered closer to her. He showed her his tongue and he wiggled his fingers at her. She showed him a little grin.

“Squeeze me,” he begged her in a low voice: his chest lingered right there before her face.

“Our new album is going into mastering, though,” Joey continued with a clearing of his throat.

“Squeeze me like you’re squeezing a full ripe avocado.”

“What?” Joey demanded.

“Nothing—” She swatted at Alex, who snickered at her. “It's just—somebody behind me—getting all naughty and shit.”

Joey chuckled at that. Alex showed her his tongue again and that time he put both hands on his hips.

“Going into mastering already?” Sam asked Joey.

“Yes! No clue when it's supposed to come out, though. Thinking maybe this summer? But who knows, really?”

“It comes out when it's done,” she said.

“It comes out four weeks after it's done,” Alex corrected her in a low voice.

“What?” Joey laughed.

“Yeah!” she declared with a chuckle.

“I mean it is true,” he told her. “Anyways, sounds crowded in there. Go and rest in a place that's nice and quiet. I'm all wrapped up in my pajamas and a blanket and I'm ready to jack off to you being all naked and shit. You go to bed and have some sexy dreams later on.”

“You, too,” she retorted back.

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip as she locked eyes with Alex, and then she turned her head in the opposite direction.

“I love you, too,” she mumbled right into the mouth piece.

Joey chuckled and then they hung up at the same time. Sam returned to Alex and the smug look plastered upon his face.

“You horny bastard,” she scoffed.

“It's gonna be even worse with you and me nestled up against each other again,” he told her with a little rub of his belly.

“Well, at least this time we've got Eric with us,” she pointed out as the two of them padded back to the table.

“Nah, that's why it's gonna be even worse,” he insisted with a chuckle.

At least he wasn't full of alcohol as she paid the bill and left a tip for the waiter. But they were going to be nestled up against each other in the back seat of the car with nothing more than the blanket and a few other things however.

Indeed, once she had pulled the car around the corner, and the three of them had lay down the back seat flat, and they snuggled up against one another to keep each other warm, Sam had a feeling that things were going to be rather intense right then and there. Just like that night in Tahoe, they had their makeshift pillows made of their jackets.

Alex snuggled closer to her with his hands right before his face: even with nothing more than a few inches of clearance between them, she could feel the soft silken warmth from his body. Eric lay on her right side: he, too, felt so soft and warm even with a bit of a gap between her and him. In the darkness, she made sight of the inky black hair spread across his round full face. Nestled in between two boys with their stomachs absolutely full of stroganoff. Quite the life she found herself wrapped in at the moment.

She thought about Scarlett and if and when she would hear back from her about her art.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Alex licking his lips.

“The little man wants it,” Eric noted as he shifted his weight on the side of the seat.

“The little man can't have it,” Sam teased as she rolled her head over for a look into Alex's eyes, shrouded in shadow and yet they twinkled with mischief. She gazed at him right in the eye for a whole minute before she felt her eyelids growing heavy.

Within time, she fell asleep right in between them.

For a few moments, she swore she saw the mysterious man in her dreams once again, but he appeared to her as nothing more than a dark silhouette in a white pillar of light. He was slender and delicate in appearance, as if he had lost all of his extraneous weight and awaited her at the gates of dawn. He set his hands on either side of the doorway and his hair billowed all around his head even though there was no wind there in her dream.

Sam awoke the next morning with Eric's head upon her shoulder and Alex's body pressed up tight against her: that inky black hair spread over the former's face such that it hid his eyes and the bridge of his nose. Meanwhile, Alex had lay his head on her chest so that little plume of gray rested right on her collar bones. A part of her wanted to plant a soft kiss on the crown of his head, but for all she knew Eric could wake up right then and there.

Another part of her didn't want to get up, either: she was nestled in between two boys on a cold blustery winter's morning.

But then again, they had to head on back to the Bay Area, especially if the two of them were about to make an album themselves. It was still early but she knew that these two boys would want breakfast and coffee at some point. It took a bit of struggling but Sam managed to wake the both of them up: once the back seat was back upright, she and Eric returned to the front and Alex took his spot in the middle of the back, and they headed on out of Colfax.

Lucky for them, the snow had passed them over the night, but that wasn't to say more headed their way once they reached Auburn.

Alex never took off the blanket from his lap, even as they descended into the Central Valley, where the tule fog had collected all around in a thick heavy woolly blanket in its own rite. At least that time around, they had a bit of extra warmth in the car and so they could hunker down with the heat on part of the way up the dial. Eric finally put his hood onto his head once they reached the intricate web of an interchange in the heart of Sacramento, whereby Sam was careful to take the next exit, the next road which wound out further west to the Bay Area.

Sam felt the hunger creeping up inside of her once those hills emerged in the terrain once again.

A break in the clouds over their heads and she knew that it was about time for breakfast. Every time she took a glimpse into her rear view mirror, Alex's head was bowed a bit and his eyes drooped closed. Indeed, Eric had fallen asleep at some point right outside of Fairfield. They were within the home stretch, and she could see the high spires of the Golden Gate Bridge off in the distance, and yet the two of them were still drifting off to sleep all the while.

She knew a place where she could take them to that would wake them up, especially if Ruben didn't pick up at any given time the night before.

The dense cottonlike tule fog melded into the thick but wispy San Francisco fog as Sam wound her way through the northeastern rim of the Bay Area and all the way down to Castro Valley. They passed the place where James and Lars had scattered Cliff's ashes and she knew that they had to stop there when they had the chance, and when the fog had finally given way to the summer sun overhead.

They reached the cafe by her father's house but given it was still early, it wasn't open yet. The two of them were still sound asleep by the time they rolled up there to the curb.

She returned to the freeway and they continued onward to the studio down in Berkeley, where Sam recognized a familiar head of smooth black hair and a slightly heavier body even from a distance, but she didn't recognize the young guy right across from her with his head of long luxurious smooth black hair down to his back: he had that thoughtful look on his face that made her think of both Joey and Chuck.

Sam brought the car up to the curb right before her and that was when Eric and Alex both jarred awake at the same time.

“Aurora,” Eric blurted out in a broken voice.

“With some other guy,” Sam said as she climbed out first. The two of them followed suit right behind her, and Aurora and the guy both turned for a look back at him.

“You must be the cousin!” Alex declared.

“Yeah—I'm Stephen.”

“The cousin?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Yeah, I'm Chuck's cousin,” he replied.

“Stephen Carpenter, you said your name was?” Aurora asked him.

“Yeah—by the way,” he turned back to Eric and Alex, “I love you guys, and also Metallica and Anthrax. I pretty much the past two years playing guitar along to Master of Puppets, Among the Living, and also The Legacy.”

Sam turned to the two of them, the two still very young boys.

“Did you guys hear that?” she proclaimed to them. “You guys are now influential in a way.”

“I hope my band gets accepted,” Stephen confessed as Aurora held the door for the four of them. The whole front hallway of the studio smelled a bit musty, as if someone left a window in there.

“And Anthrax is working on a new one, too,” Sam remarked once they were in the main room. “Boys are busy as all hell.”

“Did you hear what happened to their studio last month?” Aurora said with a look of concern on her face.

“I did, yes!” Sam exclaimed. “I called Joey last night and he told me. Lost like a hundred grand worth of equipment.”

“Holy shit,” Eric blurted out.

“Yeah—Yeah, I was gonna tell you but this one over here—” She nodded at Alex and the twinkle in his eye. “—was so busy wanting to touch me and get close to me that I forgot about it.”

“There's also this,” Aurora declared as she picked up what appeared to be a blank cassette tape from the shelf on the side of the room. But Sam recognized that name on the side of the label.

“The return of the Cherry Suicides!” she exclaimed.

“Aw yeah!” Eric cheered with a pump of his fists.

“It's actually a single,” Aurora explained, “their very first one, no less. A brand new song called 'Girlfriend.' 'Cut me up and make me your girlfriend, baby!'”

“Morbid and lovely—just like the girls themselves,” Alex said with his eyes gleaming.

“Also—we have a friend here,” Aurora continued, and the door of the pool room swung open behind them. Yet another young guy with long hair down past his shoulders, but with the first sprigs of a beard around his chin and his upper lip.

“Hey! Gary!” Alex declared.

“Gary from—Exodus?” Sam asked from out of the blue.

“The same!” he said with a smirk and his hand extended to Alex. “Hey, little man. I was wondering where you ran off to after the tour.”

“Camping over in the eastern Sierra,” Alex replied, “with dear Samantha here and also Eric.”

“Cool! Well, I hope you guys saved up some juice because a little bird told me that you—” Gary gestured to Sam, albeit with a serious look on his face. “—wanna visit Cliff's burial site.”

“Where'd you hear that?” she asked him.

“I'll tell you later,” he said.

“Well, you guys better make it quick because Ruben's gonna be here any second now,” Aurora advised them, and without another moment's hesitation, Sam, Alex, Eric, and Gary returned to the car outside.

“What happened to the trailer?” Gary asked them.

“You—really don't wanna know,” Eric told him as they climbed back inside: that time, he took the spot behind the wheel while Sam took to the back seat next to Alex.

A little turn around and then a trek back up to Castro Valley, to those same rolling hills there. At that point, the clouds overhead broke and the gray morning sun shone down on them. Sam hoped they would get breakfast at some point: not that she wanted it, but she wanted Alex and Eric to have a bite to eat for themselves.

“I feel like I haven't been up here in ages,” Gary confessed. “Let's just say it's been a long time coming for all of us over in the Exodus camp.”

Alex ran his fingers through his inky black hair. Sam huddled closer to him just to feel his warmth.

They came to that familiar stretch of flat ground there in the hills, and that low building where they held the memorial.

“Samantha—look!” Alex declared with a point to the field.

Sam turned around and followed his gesture. On the field there, right in the exact same spot where James and Lars had scattered Cliff's ashes, stood a small complex of lush dark green shrubs. Even from the road, she could see those small flowers that lined the highways in the valley and down in the south land.

“Oleanders,” she breathed out; she thought about Louie and if he had seen those flowers himself at any given point. Even though it was still very early in the year, she could see they were in full bloom as if the springtime had bestowed upon them once again.

“Right where they spread his ashes, too,” he added.

Alex climbed out of the car first and Sam followed suit. Eric and Gary stayed behind there in the car; those shrubs were much larger than either of them had seen before, such that they looked as though they had been transferred from some place on the side of the road to there in the middle of the field. They rounded the edge of the building together only to be met with a heady gust of wind from the ocean, but neither of them let it slow them down. Alex kept on running to the shrubs, to which he skidded to a stop before them and he crouched down before the branches that faced him. Sam lingered behind him for a better look at the flowers, even though she stood several feet away from them.

Eric called out something from the car but she couldn't hear him over the winds at their back.

“Don't touch them, Alex,” she advised him. “They're poisonous.”

“I won't—I'm just seeing how white they are.”

As white as the top layer of hair on the plume on his head.

He lingered right before the fledgling shrub for a better look at those little white flowers as they bloomed up from even the lowest branches, the ones closest to the ground. Their five petals were pristine, like that of a daisy or a hibiscus, but they were oleanders, the plants that grew everywhere there in California. The poison that ran within the roots of the earth and brought back poison for the most unsuspecting of souls. Sam crouched down closer to him as the cold moist breeze from the ocean fluttered the shrubs a bit.

She need not the gray morning sun to show her that the pedals had not a single speck or imperfection on them.

Alex peered back at her and the sunlight shone onto his face to wash out his skin and the gray hairs there over his brow: for a few seconds, he appeared far more ghostly than she had originally imagined before. Sam glanced over at the rest of the barren field. Cliff's spirit was among them, and he made something beautiful and morbid sprout from the depths of the earth in his wake.

“Like—perfect pearly white,” she noted. “White and clean.”

“They really are!” He turned to her with a bright twinkle in his eye, when a chill swept over her. “It's like Mother Nature knows.”

“She does,” Sam said with a nod of her head.

The two of them there back at the end of the world, caught in the midst of something humongous there on their horizons.

Little white flowers to follow them into the next round of spring, and that time was coming upon them. No more time left to dawdle: they all had to move with the poison sands of time.

[dawnwave16]

Project Widow Soldier

When Marinette first joined her classmates at the age of 11 it was clear that she wasn't what they considered normal. Sure her clothes were fashionable, but there was just something about her that made them second guess themselves. As the days passed they put that unease out of their minds, after all, why should they be scared of someone who was so clumsy?

What they didn't know was they should have listened to those instincts. Marinette was not normal, not in the slightest. She had been genetically engineered by Hydra. Half her DNA came from the Winter Soldier, the other half came from the Black Widow. How they had access to Widow's DNA, Marinette didn't know. She had his colouring but her build was similar to that of the widow's. Not that she knew that. She had been 8 when she had first heard whispers of what Hydra wanted to do with her, the perfect weapon, they called her. One born in a lab from an unknown surrogate and taken straight to their version of the red room. She had been trained and had her skills honed since before she could walk. Languages were drilled into her skull until it became a reflex to speak in whatever language was spoken around her.

That was something they should have remembered when they spoke of the next step of her training, whipping out her class. Well trained she may be but she had her father's true nature. The nature the Winter Soldier possessed when he was still James Buchanan Barnes aka 'Bucky' of the Howling Commando's and Captain America's best friend. Her true nature was kind, caring and bubbly when she was allowed to be, and the mile-wide stubborn streak in her refused to let her trainers take that away from her. When she heard what they had planned for her, she made her own plans. Instead of just taking out her class, she took out the whole base, hacking their computers to delete any and all references of herself, then ran.

She hitched her way to an orphanage in France where she was soon adopted and finally given a name of her own. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It sounded so much better than Experiment Widow Soldier 1623. Despite having run away she kept up most of her training, firearms were done at night by breaking into gun shops and dismantling then reassembling them against a timer. Other weapons were done by training in a dojo every second night. Hand to hand was done the same way except that was practised by a man who would alternate between watching her and sparing with her. She was always extra careful when they sparred as she didn't want anyone to know her true strength. It was why she always acted so clumsy too, no-one ever thought that the clumsiest person in the room could kill you with their bare hands.

Whenever they had a gym class at school she would pretend to injure herself so that she wouldn't have to participate in them. The teachers and other students simply thought it was bad luck so they ignored it rather than make a fuss of it. She found the classes very easy but after getting herself put up a grade she hid her boredom and simply put in the minimum effort she needed to still get her stellar grades. That's not to say her new life was perfect. There were still those that tried to bully her, but she generally only acted upset to help Chloe feel like she was copying her mother properly. She also discovered that she didn't feel comfortable not having at least one weapon on her, yet normal clothes didn't sit properly when she had a weapon. So she started designing and, making her own clothes and to her surprise, she discovered that not only did she enjoy doing so but she was good at it! Soon she was making all her clothes, up to and including bra's when she started needing them.

Two years after she was adopted and started her normal school career, she met Ayla. Although she got along well with Ayla, she decided to wait a while before deciding if they would be true friends or not. When one of her classmates was turned to stone she thought about intervening but knew that if she did, she stood the chance of being recognised, so she went home only to find a box on her desk. After checking it for traps she opened it, met Tikki and found she could help without exposing her secret to the world. It was in Tikki she found, what she felt, her first true friend. She then met Chat Noir and had to admit, while he needed to work on his comedic timing, he was a decent partner, especially for someone who clearly had no prior training. It was only due to her upbringing that she remembered that she had to catch the butterfly before they started celebrating their win.

When she arrived at school the next day she saw a boy leaning over her seat, at first she thought he had put it there but upon hearing Chloe giggling she realised that it was Chloe that had put it there. Despite this, she knew she had to make a scene about the gum so she pretended to be angry and pretended not to know who he was when Ayla showed her his picture on her phone. It was then that the downside of her training kicked in, this boy, Adrian, was her partner! She groaned and mentally hit her head against a brick wall in frustration.

School continued in pretty much the same way as previous years until yet another new girl joined their class. As far as Marinette was concerned the new girl was lacking in every way. Her lies were easy to disprove, her fashion sense was abysmal and don't even get her started on the girl's hair! When Lila first started to spread her lies, Marinette didn't care. When she stole Adrian's book though Marinette got angry. Didn't she know what Adrian's father would do to him if Adrian lost it? So she followed them and took the book out of the trash, only for Tikki to identify it as a grimoire and insist it be taken to the guardian. Marinette knew Tikki was right but she also worried about what would happen to her Kitty if she didn't return it. So she scanned it into her tablet, made a copy for the guardian and returned the book to Mr Agreste herself, saying she had found it in the trash after seeing Lila throw it away. As she had filmed Lila when she followed them he simply thanked her and sent her away. He hadn't even asked why she followed them!

It made her very suspicious of Mr Agreste but she knew Adrian as Chat wasn't ready for that confrontation so she kept her silence. She took one of the copies to the guardian and started her training as the next guardian. School carried on and Lila came back with yet more stories, she even tried threatening Marinette but she just shrugged it off, she'd dealt with worse.

Three more years past in much the same way, Lila lied, Marinette got ignored and the class seemed to drop in intelligence every time Marinette checked. Tom and Sabine never fell for Lilas' lies no matter how much the girl tried so Marinette was content. Then came the day that Marinette finally slipped.

There had been a difficult Akuma in the early hours of the morning so Marinette was running late. In her haste, she forgot that that day was a “gym” day meaning she needed an injury lined up. It definitely didn't help that the news that the Avengers were in Paris and would be visiting her school had been circulating.

“They all love me and we all text each other regularly but when they here they will pretend they don't know me so that I'm not made a target.” Lila was saying as Marinette stumbled into the classroom, pretending to be out of breath. “I wish I could tell you when they'll be here but they want it to be a surprise.”

Marinette rolled her eyes then finally remembered that today was a gym day and groaned softly. She didn't even have a viable excuse to get out of it! 'Looks like I'll have to try fake not being good at whatever activity they come up with' she thought with a sigh.

As luck would have it the Avengers showed up just in time for her classes gym class. At first, she thought that this would be a good thing, the Avengers would talk to them about whatever and then they would go back to their normal classes. Except that's not what happened. Kim, being his typical self, made a bet with Alix that if anyone in their class would be able to pick up Thor's hammer it was him. This led to a lot of snickering at the innuendo but it also got the attention of Tony Stark aka Ironman so they all had to line up and try to lift it. None of them managed to and then it was her turn. She didn't think she'd be able to but knew she had to try anyway. To her surprise, she lifted it easily. She blanched then did the only thing she could think of, she dropped the hammer and bolted from the room. She didn't mean to run into Bucky but she did and when he caught her, he could feel the muscles she had kept hidden with slightly loose shirts. This wasn't good.

“Alright little lady, what has you in such a panic,” Bucky asked.

“I was able to lift that stupid hammer so I panicked. I catch enough flack from my class that I didn't want to see their reactions.” Her voice came out against her will. Even though his question had been friendly enough, his voice had the same commanding tone in it that some of her instructors had had. He seemed to recognise that her answer hadn't been willingly given and studied her, his eyes showing that he was drawing the right conclusions about her training.

“You were trained. I accidentally used 'That Voice' and you had no option but to reply. Am I right?” His voice was filled with dawning understanding, however, he still kept that commanding tone in it so she felt compelled to answer.

“I managed to get away 5 years ago. I didn't think it would still work on me.” She replied miserably.

“5 years ago? That's when the Hydra base in Belgium blew up if I remember the reports I've recently been able to read correctly. Shield had found it hidden in a mountain under a monastery and three days before they went to attack it, it went up in flames. Was that you? If so, why, that would have been against all your training.” Bucky was still holding her arm so she couldn't escape. In a way, it felt like she was being grounded against her maelstrom of emotions through that contact.

“Look, can we not talk about this here? The last thing we need is for someone to hear this and start rumours about me. More rumours anyway,” her voice was very quiet at this stage.

Bucky thought for a moment then he answered. “We're staying on the fourth floor, I trust you can get in unseen?” He cocked an eyebrow as he said this, so she just nodded.

“What time?”

“22H00”

“I'll be there, though I would recommend having something that can do an express DNA analysis or I doubt anyone will believe me. I'm guessing I'll be talking to everyone?” Her tone was resigned as she said this. Bucky just nodded. “Alright, I'll see everyone tonight then.”

It seemed her run of bad luck was still going strong when an Akuma attack happened just after she had finished her supper and fighting it lasted for so long she only had 5 minutes to get to the meeting. She had 3 minutes before her transformation timed out so she decided to throw caution into the wind.

“Chat, I have to be somewhere ASAP, can I leave the comforting to you?” Chat hadn't had to use his power so he nodded and she swung away quickly. Landing on the correct balcony with a minute to spare, she stepped through to the surprise of everyone in the room and dropped her transformation. Tikki had known she was going to tell them anyway so she just smiled at her as she accepted a macaroon.

The avengers, who had all tensed up ready to fight as she dropped in, relaxed slightly before Thor's laughter boomed around the room.

“So that's why you were able to lift Mjolnir earlier! Well met young wielder of creation!”

She blushed but nodded. “Mind if I sit down? I'm a little tired.”

“Pull up a chair,” Tony said. Then he continued “Why'd you tell metal arm here to have a DNA tester ready?”

In answer, she simply held out her arm and when nobody moved she sighed. “Look, it would make it a lot easier for everyone to understand if they could see that what I'm about to say if they could see I'm not lying and that I have nothing to hide, at least not from anyone in this room.”

That got a reaction out of them. Bruce got up and drew the blood sample needed and ran it, only to let a strangled sound out when the results came in. Marinette giggled.

“Are you serious?!? This can't be right!” he spluttered.

“They accurate. You can check me for any hidden vials etc that could have messed with the results if you want but I promise they are true.” Marinette couldn't help but be amused.

“What's wrong big man?” Tony asked.

“The DNA results say she's Bucky and Natasha's kid but that's not possible!” Bruce's voice was filled with denial.

“WHAT?” Everyone in the room except Bruce and Marinette shouted.

“Read them yourself!” Bruce thrust the result sheet toward them.

“It's true. Oh my god, how?”

Tony was about to make a joke about two people having sex when Natasha shook her head.

“Before you start, Tony, I've never had sex with Bucky let alone been pregnant so it won't be the way you thinking.” She turned to Marinette and simply said: “Explain, now!”

Marinette sighed then leaned back and started to explain about Hydra's project Widow Soldier and how she got away. Halfway through her explanation, Tony had Friday start pulling all the records that he could and shared them with the rest of the Avengers. Friday was a little more thorough then Marinette expected him to be and had pulled up files regarding what was going on at Marinette's school too. Most specifically about Lila Rossi. The team was not pleased when they saw the videos with Lila lying about them and quite a few others.

As the team started to discuss how they would deal with Lila's lies about them, Natasha and Bucky walked over to Marinette.

“So, you're our daughter huh?” Marinette nodded with her eyes lowered thinking that they must either be angry or disappointed.

“Did the serums in us affect you in any way?” Natasha asked.

“I'm stronger, faster and more flexible than most, which helps with being Ladybug but is a pain as a civilian as I always have to hide it, even from my adopted parents. I'm immune to poisons and need very little sleep. Oh, and my eyes are better and my hearing is a little more acute. If anyone found out I was going to blame it on having an active X-gene but I know I don't actually have one.”

“At least you had a backup plan for it kiddo,” Bucky said ruffling her hair. She swatted his hand away.

“Up for a sparing session so that we can see where you at in term of training?” Natasha asked.

“Sure, just know I don't want to go into the hero business full time. I was hoping to be like Edna Mode in the Incredibles, you know? Design super suits for everyone, yet still, be awesome in my own right.” Bucky and Natasha chuckled.

“If's that's what you want sure, but we still going to double-check your level of training,” Bucky replied.

“Fair enough.” She hopped up and stripped off her jacket as they started sparring.

What no-one knew was that a certain Salt-water Crocodile had smelt his favourite teen and had escaped from the room he was in. He had a bad habit of doing that, mainly so that he could destroy and crocodile skin items Chloe had, as well as her shoes. Marinette and Natasha had been sparing for 10 minutes when Fang managed to track Marinette's scent down and break into the Avengers' room, causing them all to freak and reach for their weapons. Marinette and Natasha stopped their spar and Marinette stood with her hands on her hips, looking uncannily like a blue-eyed version of her mother.

“Really Fang? Must you resort to scaring everyone whenever you even think I'm nearby?” She didn't get an answer except for a slight rumble from Fang's chest almost like a purr. She sighed then walked over to her jacket to get her phone and dialled a number.

“Hey Uncle J, you wouldn't happen to be missing something would you?” She asked into the phone when her call connected. When she got an answer all she replied was “Room 416,” before hanging up and sitting down. Fang was instantly half on her lap demanding cuddles.

The team was startled, to say the least, but even more so when Jagged Stone burst into the room. He ignored them his eyes locking onto Fang and Marinette. “Little M! No wonder he decided to go for a walk!” He looked around, “Oh, were you in the middle of a design meeting? I'll catch up later then! We still on for you coming on tour with me for a month when school finishes? Excellent! See you later then!” And with that, he was gone again.

“Don't ask,” was all she said with a shake of her head and a small laugh “You'll get used to it.”

Seeing how similar the man was to Tony the team accepted that easily enough. Marinette looked at the clock and saw it was 2 o'clock. She sighed then looked back at everyone.

“Look do what you want about Lila but I don't want to know the plan beforehand. If I look smug, or if I don't look surprised she'll twist your actions to be the result of me manipulating her. I've got to get home and get some sleep as I have school in the morning, while I don't need a lot of sleep I still need some.” Having said that she called for her transformation and left.

School was as boring as ever the next day when the door slammed open and Tony stood there.

“Sorry not sorry for barging in Ms Incompitence,” he said to Mlle Bustier, “But there is something I need to say to this class. After we left yesterday and saw that Akuma attack we tried to get more information on them. Imagine our surprise when we saw a video on a blog we'd never heard of, a video that contained an interview with a girl we had never met or even seen until we spoke to this class yesterday. We decided to do what little miss tabloid reporter here should have done and did some fact-checking. Yes, there are some facts in what she said but 95% of what she said was total BS. We even called some of the celebs that were spoken about to make sure!” With that, he slammed a wad of paper down on the desk in front of Lila. “These are copies of the lawsuits you will be facing Ms Liar, your mother has copies of them too.” He turned to Ayla and dumped another slightly smaller wad in front of her. “This is your set, same story.” Finally, he turned to Mlle Bustier, “You will be hearing from the education board shortly.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out.

Marinette sat back in her seat watching as the class slowly processed what had just happened. When Adrian looked at her she shook her head showing she had nothing to do with it. Realising she probably wouldn't learn anything new until Ms Mendeleiev came to teach them, she closed her eyes and thought about her summer. A month travelling with Jagged, the rest spent with the Avengers, who knew what would happen? Either way, she looked forward to the future, knowing she had two sets of parents that supported her and a whole family to meet. Who knows maybe she could even find someone she would be willing to date?

by popular request part 2

[atmilliways]

On the 2nd day of Dethmas this writer gives to thee…

Dec 14 - Kissing under the mistletoe (or office party shenanigans)

Charles gets roped into the role of Santa Clause at the holiday office party. 

Charles/Pickles

~

The dreaded Dethklok Inc. office Christmas party was coming up—dreaded not by the band or most of the employees, who typically had a blast, but by the CFO who had to arrange and organize everything before and after, up to and including the inevitable handful of resulting funeral arrangements.

Charles was looking forward to it even less than usual, because the band had thrown an absolute shitfit to get him to agree to play Santa this year. He didn’t know why they wanted him to do this. The party didn’t even normally have a Santa. His first thought was that it was Toki’s idea, but on second thought Toki tended to lack the charisma to get the rest of the guys to throw in with him on niche interests like that.

But fine. Whatever. He’d agreed to do it once, and next year he could simply point to whatever came of it this year as an argument against repeating the experience.

He kept telling himself that right up until donning the red and white Santa suit, the iconic hat, and the fake beard. (The damn thing was so big that practically all he could see of his own face in the mirror were his eyes. At least they were letting him keep his glasses.) Then he took his seat in a throne-like chair that had been special ordered for the occasion, specially decorated with carvings of presents, the most unsettling depictions of Christmas elves that he’d ever seen, and skulls with real candles balanced on them, lit and already beginning to dribble red and black wax . . . and immediately felt that somewhere in life he must have made a grave, grave mistake to have ended up here.

The band took the stage in the center of the hall, half the room away from where Charles sat, and went into a jumbled “Merry Christmas, go fuck yourselves!” sort of speech. He mostly tuned it out until—

“And hey, errybody,” Pickles slurred into his mic, “don’t ferget ta sit on Santa’s lap and tell ‘im what you want fer Christmas!”

That had not been part of the discussion, let alone the agreement, but at this point what was he going to do about it? Besides hope that grown men and women hired for their professional abilities would have no interest in sitting on the lap of the man who signed their paychecks.

~

“You can’t have a pony,” Charles said flatly. “There isn’t space for one in the employee barracks, and even if there were it would be both impractical and unsanitary.”

The Klokateer perched on his lap, crushing the feeling out of his legs, tittered and took another sip of his holiday punch through a straw poked up under his mask. “Oo-kay Mr. Grinchy-claus, no pony for me then. Aren’tcha going to say ‘ho ho ho, Merry Christmas’?”

“Ho ho ho. Now go away.”

Laughing drunkenly, the man lurched up and made his way off the Santa podium to get a refill of punch. The next Klokateer in line had an Online Division pin on one shoulder and a spiked eggnog in her hand. Charles braced himself for yet another request for fewer blocks on searching for porn using company computers.

~

“Hey look, it’sch Schanty Clausche!”

Charles grimaced behind his beard. “Hello, Murderface.”

The first of the boys to visit him, Murderface seemed to be in unusually high spirits. His ass landed on Charles’ knees like a ton of bricks. “Wow,” he crooned with exaggerated delight, “Schanta really does know all the namesch of the good little boysch and girlsch!”

“Very funny. Would you mind telling me whose idea this was?”

The bassist shook his head. “Hey man, I’m not here to narc on my bandmatesch, I’m here to tell Schanta what I want for Chrischtmasch. ”

“Alright. Fine. What would you like for Christmas.”

Murderface looked around furtively, then leaned in and whispered, “A dischguische kit.”

“A . . . disguise kit.”

“Yeah! I’m tired of being mobbed whenever I go out in public, scho I need it. For camouflasche. ”

Charles couldn’t remember a single incident of a fan mob forming for just Murderface; it only ever seemed to happen when one or more of the other band members were with him, though there were probably a few people who did wander up and ask for an autograph. There had been one unfortunately memorable band meeting a few months ago where Murderface had bragged about someone wanting to touch his penis for good luck, pleased at the recognition but at the same time calling said fan an ‘incredibly fucking gay regular jackoff.’

“I’ll, ah, make sure that’s added to the list,” Charles assured him, and breathed a sigh of relief when Murderface nodded in satisfaction and stood to leave.

~

“Hey, knock knock.”

Charles sighed from the depths of his soul at this second Dethklok visitation. “Who’s there.”

“Nathan Explosion,” said Nathan Explosion, dropping unceremoniously onto his lap.

Luckily, the beard hid Charles’ wince at the impact. He was probably going to have a lot of weird leg bruises tomorrow. “Nathan Explosion who.”

“Nathan Explosion, here to tell you you’re the party ho ho ho! ” Nathan broke into riotous laughter and clapped Charles good-naturedly on the back, causing him to accidentally inhale a mouthful of fake beard.

After a moment to catch his breath, Charles nodded along. “Very amusing. What would you, ah, like for Christmas, Nathan?”

“I need new pants.”

Well, that was unexpectedly straightforward. “New pants. You got it.”

“One hundred pairs. Exactly one hundred.”

“Okay.”

“Just, uh. A couple inches bigger in the waist. For the holiday weight that I am definitely going to lose in January.”

He couldn’t feel his legs; this was not the time to point out that Nathan wouldn’t have time to wear all one hundred pairs of new pants between December 25th and the start of January, nor that January as a deadline for such a drastic fitness undertaking was probably an unrealistic deadline.

“That’s fine, Nathan. One hundred pairs of pants. I’ll make sure, the, ah, elves get the message.” Maybe he would throw in some math flash cards while he was at it.

~

Toki weighed less than the first two, but was unfortunately so excited that he landed on Charles’ lap hard . Definitely, definitely going to have bruises.

“God Jul, Charles —I means Santa!” the guitarist chirped, bright-eyed and swaying slightly. Charles fervently hoped he wasn’t about to throw up; he didn’t even think being covered in vomit would do much to get him out of this holiday circle of hell. “Merries Christmas!!”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Toki. What do you, ah, want to ask Santa for this year?”

He didn’t have a watch, but he estimated that Toki’s list, plus miscellaneous excited chatter, took at least half an hour and mentioned many things he knew for a fact that Toki already owned.

~

“Eeuyghh, looks, it ams everys-ones favorites butler,” Skwisgaar said, then folded himself gracefully into a sitting position. After an hour or two of being sat on like this and having plenty to compare it to, Charles wondered if the man was eating enough.

This was in spite of the fact that Skwisgaar was toting around a small plate loaded with various cheeses, fruit, and greasy finger sausages skewered on toothpicks. Party food. To Charles, who hadn’t realized that this gig would take so long and therefore hadn’t eaten in advance, it smelled wonderful.

The Swede must have noticed him eyeing it, or perhaps heard the growl of his stomach over the noise of the surrounding party somehow, because he smirked and held it out in offering. “Pickle says for you to haves this. Gots to keep yous strengths up, you knows.”

Pickles, Charles noted as he balanced the plate off to one side on one of the less obvious and candle-less Christmas skulls. He also pulled one of the sausages free of its toothpick and reached under the beard to jam it in his mouth. Still warm.

“Thank you, Skwisgaar,” he said once he’d finished chewing. “Now, what can I get for you? Ah, as Santa. Ho ho.”

“Everyones know it ams three ‘ho’s, dildo.” Skwisgaar steepled his fingers. “But I woulds like five ins mine room to enjoy ons the Christmas morning. You know the kinds I likes?”

Charles didn’t know what he’d expected. “It’s my job to know, so . . . yes.”

“Greats.” The guitarist patted him on the shoulder of his Santa suit. “Glads that ams sorted outs. Keeps up that good works, yous.”

Then he got up and wandered away, leaving Charles to realize that he hadn’t had a chance to ask him who was behind this whole Santa idea.

~

Charles finished the plate of food before Pickles made an appearance. He also realized that he could persuade his increasingly inebriated employees to bring him more food, and also drinks, by threatening them with cleanup duty after the party. (He was not in a generous mood; the ones that tried to weasel out of it at first would get cleanup duty regardless of whether they eventually caved or not.) There was no way to escape the alcohol content in the drinks—even when he asked for water it came spiked with vodka or peppermint schnapps, because everyone wanted to see the company’s CFO hammered.

At least they knew better than to roofie him, because Charles would have them killed.

He saw Pickles coming from a mile away. Maybe it was because Charles knew that once all of Dethklok had a chance to visit with “Santa Clause” he would be allowed to escape this torment; maybe it was because he really wanted to know if Pickles was, indeed, the mastermind behind this whole thing; and maybe it was just a tiny bit because he was annoyed the drummer had forgotten to wander over earlier.

But being annoyed at any of the guys was a nonstarter. Putting up with their antics was just part of the job.

“Heeeeeeeeeeey,” Pickles greeted him as he swayed his way over and plopped onto Charles’ lap. Unlike everyone else who had visited Santa this evening, he didn’t stick to perching closer to Charles’ knees but scooted in as close as he could until they were practically nose to nose. Mingled notes of every kind of booze available at the party wafted the short distance from the drummer’s mouth (and shirt, and hands, and dreads), until all Charles could smell was Pickles. “Lookin’ hot in that suit, dood. Is the temp in here okay? Gettin’ a little warm in there?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Charles said, trying not to be too aware that Pickles seemed incapable of sitting still and his ass was rubbing against . . . things. “Ah. Merry Christmas.”

Pickles snickered. “Did Nat’en make that ho joke?”

No one could see for the beard that Charles’ lips twitched toward a smile at that. “Yes, he did.”

“‘M glad yer not a ho, Charlie,” Pickles slurred affectionately. “A'least, not no much'a one. That’d be a bummer.”

“Ah . . . okay.” He didn’t know what to make of that, or the continuing subtle lap dance, so he said, “What would you like for Christmas this year, Pickles?”

“Weeeeell. . . .” Grinning, Pickles waggles his double-pierced eyebrows. It seems like he’s trying to be suggestive, but Charles has no idea what that’s supposed to suggest. The drummer leaned even closer, lips brushing against Charles’ ear as he murmurs, “I kinda already got my present right in front’a me, chief. Just gotta unwrap it.”

All of this was sending shivers and goosebumps down Charles’ spine under the (admittedly warm) Santa suit, but for heaven’s sake, it was just Pickles. When wasted, which he was more often than not, man oscillated between being a destructive drunk and clingy one. Apparently tonight it was . . . very much so the latter. Not a good time to ask about the Santa plot, really.

He had dealt with this before, just not with Pickles literally draped over and inconspicuously grinding on him. Come on, Offdensen, pull it together . Do not get a boner at the holiday office party. No matter how long it’s been!

“Well, ah, sounds like you’re all taken care of then,” Charles hazarded. “All that’s left to do is, ah, enjoy the party. Why don’t you go do that.”

Pickles chuckled, a low, sultry sound that just made the situation even more difficult. “Workin’ on it dood, I’m workin’ on it.” He shifted thoughtfully again, then bit his lip through a grin. “And it feels like we’re gettin’ there, huh chief?”

“I. Ah, what?” At least the big fake beard was concealing his blush better than he’d been able to contain his body’s mounting interest in the increasingly distracting ass squirming around on top of him. This is a public place , he wanted to protest, but didn’t want to risk pointing out something that might be completely unintentional. After all, it was Pickles , who did this sort of thing fairly regularly.

But the next murmured words out of Pickles’ mouth stopped every single one of Charles’ thoughts in their tracks.

“Fuck, even in this stupid suit yer sexy. How d’you do that?” A brief nip, teeth closing and tugging on Charles’ earlobe before releasing with a soft wet pop .

Nothing but overwhelmed static on the other side of that ear; the quiet gasp was completely involuntary.

“C’mon Charlie,” Pickles all but whined, “you don’t have to do this anymore. Jest call it a night and meet me in the bathroom or somethin’, okie?”

The amazing thing, Charles thought distantly, was that from a distance, it wouldn’t look like anything was happening. Just a grown man, swaying drunk off his ass, sitting on Santa’s lap to whisper what he wanted for Christmas. Regular office holiday party shenanigans for a laugh. But under the surface, Charles was starting to feel like a shaken champagne bottle.

“You, ah,” he managed. “You do realize that you, ah, seem to be prepositioning me for, ah. Sex?”

Pickles leaned into him with a laugh. “Like I said, dood, that’s what I’m tryin’ ta do. Fer like, fuckin’ forever. For a smart guy you can be pretty stupid, y’know that?”

“Ah.” Charles shifted awkwardly and nearly choked when Pickles very pointedly pushed into it at the exact right moment. “There’s . . . a chance I’ve been told that before,” he hedged, already vowing to himself that he would never admit how many times. This isn’t something he ever would have looked for, but mistaking Pickles hitting on him for god only knew how long for just being an affectionate drunk? That was pretty fucking funny if you thought about it, and he'd consumed just enough alcohol so far to really give it some very serious thought.

And . . . his job was to keep everyone in the band happy.

“So, ah. There are several bathrooms off this hall. . . . Which one did you have in mind?”

[strykingback]

Re:Call..

Location: Solitas Region, Mantle Time: 12:00 PM OST: Heavy is The Head That Wears The Crown Volume Four.

______________________________

The top of the hour had arrived in Mantle, the streets were overpopulated with people from different varieties human or faunus. Everyone who was born here remained here as part of their status to serve the higher class, that higher class being Atlas of course. 

Yet, the city itself was a shell of what it once was. What was once a city that started The Great War against the other kingdoms became a city without a military no less a Huntsman Academy of course. Speaking of Alsius Academy the once prestigious academy also fell to ruin when the Rise of Atlas had come. 

It was much for someone to take in, clothed in drapes to hide his identity. Kazura Rojas Verde was here in Mantle.. after all a Knights duty was never over even despite his wounds. However, he was here for more than that.... he was here to see an old friend. This old friend of his helped him and his teammates escape from Atlas during their assault on Icarus PMC. 

Kazura could only sigh at the state of disarray Mantle was in. The racism against the faunus was beginning to spiral out of control ever since the White Fang attacked Beacon Academy alongside the unknown assailant whose message sowed the seeds of distrust in every kingdom.  “ Damn Faunus! All of you ruined everything including an entire festival! “ Someone shouted catching the draped prince’s attention. Witnessing a human and his group of cronies kicking a male faunus, who was already battered and bruised from the consistent beating. 

“  Stop... Stop...” Kazura whispered to with his hand trembling with pure rage and just wanting to help. Yet though he felt like if he were to reveal himself the Atlesian military would be wary of his presence and would send their forces to apprehend him...

Yet though what is the difference between being someone who witnesses something and trying to help, against someone who does nothing and moves on?  Is that justice?  Is that being a chivalrous person? Or is it cowardice? Kazura could feel his teeth clenching with pure rage coming with his teeth being gritted, finally his boiling point was reached when seeing one of the human cronies approach with a hammer.... intending to kill the battered faunus .  “  STOP!!!!  ” He shouted unsheathing both his sword Caliburn and his shield Honorbrought. Which he proceeded to throw his shield at the man who was holding the hammer knocking down to the ground with his shield returning to the knight stopping the violence causing everyone to stop what they were doing looked at Kazura. 

“  Is this Just?! Tell me! IS THIS JUST?! To blame the faunus for something that they never did?! “ The knight of honor shouted with all of his might. 

“  Yeah its goddamn just! Also, who the hell do you think you are!?  “ The man who beat the faunus questioned Kazura only for the knight to menacingly approach him taking off the hood of his drape sheathing his weapons. 

“ I am Kazura Rojas Verde, The Eighth Prince of Brumel, The one who saved your city from being owned by a tyrannical PMC CEO, and I ask of you to drop your weapons.... and leave the faunus man be....or face my wrath. “ He demanded glaring at the leader of the beating who simply looked in his eyes and felt fearful....backing up and starting to turn tail and run with the others following suit, with Kazura putting on his hoodie to his drape once more. 

Walking over to battered faunus he placed two fingers on his neck listening to his labored breathing and getting a pulse. “  He’s alive... He needs medical attention now!!! “ He said with a serious tone with one of the civilians of Mantle rushing over, “  I used to be a combat medic for the Atlesian military I can take care of him...” She spoke with Kazura rising and going about his way.... 

For the next few minutes he wandered around the city until his scroll started to ring taking it out and checking who was calling him here, his eyes being drawn to the virtual screen. 

“UNKNOWN NUMBER” 

The scroll flashed taking a few minutes to believe that it was his “friend” taking one finger and swiping on the left to answer it bringing the phone-like device to his ear. 

“ Hello? “ Kazura said  “ Hello Kazura, I was not expecting you to return here ever since the Founding Day Crisis... instead you are quite lucky I disabled the camera in the sector that you were in... “ A distorted voice spoke through the speaker of the others Scroll. 

“ Heh Guess I am really....Mr.X, but for now I may need to speak with you.. in private....  “ The Knight replied. 

“  Well then if you’d like to speak with me head down to the second alleway and turn into it ... I’ll get the door for you...” Mr. X said befoe ending the call with Kazura putting his scroll away and following Mr. X’s instructions going down to the second alleyway and entering it where one of the brick walla changed  to a metal doo sliding upwards to open with the Knight walking in and looking around.

“ Mr. X? I’m here! Mr. X? “ Kazura said walking in deeper with the door shutting and the cool blue light of a computer in the darkness illuminating the room with he lights being turned on. 

“  Shit...  ” Kazura said putting his hand on his on the hilt of his sword thinking that he was lead into a trap. 

“  Stay your weapons, Ser Kazura... “ A voice rang out with that of a young man in his twenties coming down from the stairs looking at the prince. 

“  Who are you? Wheres... Mr. X?!  “ Kazura demanded still unsure of who this man is. 

“  Well you are looking at him. I’m Mr. X. But in reality.. my name is Guangxian Nuemann of the Atelier Agents... and the man who gave you and your team the information on Icarus and helped you all escape that day.   “ The hacker spoke looking at the Knight who moved his hand off the hilt of his sword. . 

In disbelief Kazura shook his head. “  Wait you are an Atelier Agent?! Then that means... there has to be others out there that are sti-”  

OST: Agents Forgotten

“  Was.... until that damned incident put us all out of commission..... and yes there are agents out there... but we can’t even if we did we would be arrested by the Atlesian government. So far one of our met that fate. “ Guangxian explained going back to  his computer and opening up the security cam footage on Mantle and Atlas checking each sector with the other screens lighting up. 

What did those other screen show they shown naught but horror, Mistralian villages were under siege by the White Fang, In Vale multiple faunus murders has been taking place, while in Atlas more Anti-Faunus sentiments has been happening making the Knight growl in fury. 

“ Infuriating isnt it... thats how helpless we agents feel like....” Guangxian said somberly looking at a photo of the agents just two days before their last mission. Said picture consisting of many familiar faces close to Guangxian ...

“  Then we need to bring back the Agents then! The world needs them now more than ever! “ Kazura replied with Guangxian sighing heavily. 

“ Try and think this through, if the agents were brought back into action what do you think will happen? Will we either be accepted for what we do or Will there be another Retrison incident lurking underneath our very noses?  “ Guangxian asked. 

For a moment Kazura stayed quiet thinking to himself for that moment...

Be accepted in the world that has forgotten about the Atelier Agents.  Or  Rejection in the eyes of billions for a tough decision....

Heavy is the head that wears the crown indeed. However Kazura wanted to defy such a thing...and face it with open eyes and an open mind without any fear at all. 

“  I think the agents are needed for one thing. They brought hope when it all seemed lost, cases that had went cold were closed with the perpetrator being brought to justice, brave acts of counterterrorism stopped before any attack could happen. The agents were meant to stop wars before they even happened! So far a war is coming and Beacon was just the start!! “ Kazura spoke with pride in his voice with Guangxian turning around in his chair... a soft smile emerging on his face. 

“  Well then.. it took me six months to get the recall program up... but now the choice is yours.”  The hacker said putting up a screen for the Recall. 

With the virtual touch screen saying: RECALL  ALL ATELIER AGENTS?          Y/N

OST: In Agents We Trust

Kazura walked up to it looking at it carefully sighing softly taking a moment to hear his fathers words in his head before he left to go to Beacon Academy. 

“ Whatever you decide to do.... I shall accept your decision... and stand with you all the way “ Rodrigues’ voice rang throughout Kazuras head with the young prince reached out to press the Y button on the screen and finally a proud voice simply stated.  “ RECALLING ALL ATELIER AGENTS ! “ 

Which a map of Remnant shown up showing the active agents and their Callsigns coming up sifting through each and every agent and their callsign name calling each one up until one answered with a female voice on the other side. 

“ So I take it that the Agents are now needed again. “ She said in an eloquent voice causing Kazura to chuckle. 

“ Yes, Yes we need the Atelier Agents now more than ever...” The Knight spoke. 

BLCK: VOLUME 4

RECALL...

[blackypanther9]

Part 48 - End of Story telling

Warning ! Mentions of corpses, blood, and...just everything that is connected to horror.

Your POV...(Telling the story)

At first I hissed in pain, it hurt. Then it started to dull and I put up a conversation with him.

"What happened to this place ? I know Asgard in all its bright colors. All its glory. Never had I seen this."

Loki chuckled weakly.

"It was my fault."

"What ?"

"I tried a new spell. It went totally wrong and since then, I changed the whole universe into the worst."

"What was the spell supposed to do, if spoken correctly ?"

"It should have brought someone back from the dead."

"You wanted to bring someone back from the dead ?"

"Yes. It was Baldr. He got killed in war and Mother was so sad, that she shut herself away from us. So I decided to bring him back. But I did something wrong and then I blacked out. As I woke up, it was like this. And Baldr was nowhere to see."

"Oh Loki..."

"As Thor found out that it was me, he told Odin and he did this to me. Taking my sight and sewing my mouth shut. I lost my mind and scratched half of my face off of me. Then I ran away and tried to find the book again, to undo it, but Odin took it and hid it away. As Thor found out that I tried to steal the book back, he beated me up and since then I have so many holes, scratches and a split open skull. With time they all turned..."

"Corrupted..."

"Yes. It was all my fault and I am also on the brick of losing sanity."

"I can help you get the book back."

"No. You have to return home. I did this and I will pay for it."

Then I turned around and stared into his eye sockets, determined.

"Loki, it is corrupting you too ! You won't make it ! Let me help you ! I will come and visit, check in on you. We will plan a Master plan and I will help you to undo it all. Okay ?"

Loki was very silent and then nodded slowly.

"Okay. It is worth a try."

"Great !"

"I am done healing you."

"Thank you."

"You are very welcome."

Then Loki stood up and went to his books. He pulled one out and "read" it. Then he snapped the book shut and then turned to me. He smiled brightly.

"I have a plan on how to make you powerful enough to go back to your time !"

"So ? What is it ?"

"I have to make a small potion. It will not take long. In 30 minutes it will be done and lucky me, I have all the ingredients in my room. Give me 50 minutes and I will be done with everything and you can go back home !"

I ran over and pulled Loki in a hug. I forgot that he was a rotting corpse. He seemed to be surprised, but hugged back.

"You are the best, Loki ! Thanks !"

It took us 1 whole hour and then another to sneak out of the Palace and to a safe hiding spot. We didn't know that Thor was following us tho. As we stopped we smiled at one another. Then I opened the vial with the potion inside it and gulped it all down in one go. After that, I gave Loki the vial back and he hid it in his pocket.

"Thank you, Loki. You saved my day.", I chuckled nervously.

"No problem. Just get home safely."

I nodded and then we heard it. A roaring of battle from Thor. Loki turned around first and then Thor's hammer made contact with Loki's stomach. He flew a few meters away.

"LOKI !!", I yelled in panic.

I was worried that he was hurt. Thor stalked over to me and I was still not fully on my energy to fight. The potion needed 5 more minutes to fully work. Then a illusion appeared and Loki stood over me, growling at Thor like a wild animal.

"Stay away from her ! She belongs to me !", Loki yelled outraged.

"She is food !"

"She is my friend !! Now PISS OFF !!", Loki screeched.

Thor only came closer. Loki growled even more, pulling me close to himself. As Thor still didn't stop, Loki looked at me and I understood immediately.

"No ! No Loki !"

He didn't listen and attacked Thor. He jumped on Thor and stabbed his face with his daggers. Over and over again. Lightning bolted from the sky and fell over Loki. He screamed in agony.

"LOKI !!"

Loki fell on his right side and just stayed there. He was out cold. Thor came closer to me and closer. I had to waste 2 more minutes.

"Brother...let's play...pranks.", Loki panted out softly.

Thor froze in place and looked at Loki.

"Do...you...remember....Thor ?", Loki asked in a sad tone.

"But Father will be mad at us..."

"Father...doesn't...have...to know..."

Thor shook his head and stared back at me. He lifted his hammer, ready to kill me.

"Brother...lets...kill...the...bad...guys."

"Why are you doing this, Loki ?", Thor asked irritated.

"Because you turned corrupted, because of me and the wrong spell I had said. Do you remember ? I tried to bring Baldr back to life and did the spell wrong...since then we are like this. You all forgot. I...I am...sorry. I never meant to do this ! I just wanted to make Mother happy and it went wrong !"

Thor then dropped the hammer and gasped.

"I...I remember !"

"Still....you turned corrupted.", Loki said sadly.

Loki slowly stood up, groaning in the process. They smiled at one another, but something was wrong with it. Then Loki threw himself at Thor and Thor yelled out in anger.

"You don't remember ! You liar !!", Loki screeched.

"GET OFF OF ME !!!"

Loki turned his head to me and smiled a sad little smile at me.

"Have a safe travel. I hope in your timeline I am better than this."

Then Loki turned serious and held tighter on Thor.

"Run !! Destiny run !!"

I ran and Thor threw Loki off. He yelled in pain and I stopped.

'Loki !'

I turned around and ran back, to Loki. I knelt down next to him.

"Are you okay ?!"

"Yes...I...will be...fine..."

"Damn it..."

"You still...have...20 seconds...left.", Loki mumbled.

I stood up and stood my ground against Thor.

"How dare you ?! How dare you hurt your own Babybrother ?! What kind of older Brother are you ?! You hurt Loki !! The one you always claimed to love as a Brother !!! And then you hurt him like that ?! How could you ?!"

Thor froze up and just stood there. (System Lockdown.) Then Loki touched my leg. I looked at him, worried.

"Go...", Loki whispered softly.

I felt my powers running through me.

"Thor ?"

"I will survive it. We can't die, no matter what you do...", he whispered, smiling softly.

I smiled back and hugged him softly.

"Thank you..."

End of story ! No one’s POV...

"And with that I was gone and back in my actual timeline.", you finished.

"Thor was a prick.", Laufey said with distaste.

"He still is. Loki now has a few broken ribs and his flesh is missing there too. You can see his ribcage..."

Loki was very pale and then fell over. Another blackout. Laufey and you looked at one another. You shrugged.

"I told him he wouldn't like it.", you said to Laufey.

Laufey chuckled at that.

Part 49

Masterlist with all Chapters of this Story click here !  

[the-a-j-universe]

Alright, cool. I finally have a guaranteed length of time that should be long enough to go through all of these, so let’s do this. I know the plan was to have me address each ask one at a time but that didn’t work out lol so I’m just doing it all at once. I’m also turning it into a post so anyone who wants to can follow along with my journey.

I’m also gonna copy/paste the text of the other asks instead of screen capping them because copy/pasting is faster lol.

I’m gonna put a pic of each one here, give my thoughts, maybe a goofy rating (I dunno), and then pick my favorite. Just so y’all know.

* Tanawy's entry n.1 in the Dragon Quest monster showcase: the all-time classic Slime. When asked to design the Slime like the standard goop monster they usually were, Toriyama said "no" and a legend was born, now cute slimes are more popular than the disgusting goop depiction. Its cousins and variants are numerous and some are very different from one another so as a bonus here the criminally underutilized Mottle Slime and its evolution the Mottle King Slime.

See, I don’t even need to look this one up. Here it is:

But let’s be real, you guys didn’t need to see an image of this dude either. I love this thing. I never went through a period where I thought of the grosser oldschool slimes. This thing has always been what’s come to my mind when I here the word in an RPG context. Which, considering my zero experience with DQ, really speaks to this thing’s popularity. I am actually going to remove this one from consideration, though, for that reason. I just have too much of a bias towards it. I know it too well, and all variations seem to be equally great. It’s a 10/10, though. Truly iconic.

Get the rest after the cut!

* Tanawy's entry n.2: Originally a boss monster, here is the Golem. While not the sharpest tool in the shed, these brick-made guys can be quite loyal, with a child-like personality, downright adorable (I will never forget you Goldirox) but their strenght in battle must not be underestimated. And since St. Valentinus is around the corner here a Chocolate Golem variant as a gift. Friendship chocolate mind you, from a dude to another 😄

I like this guy. He reminds me of a couple oldschool Yugioh cards. They’re all bad cards, but I’m nostalgic for them so that help’s this guy’s chances. I don’t know that I buy him as a threatening boss, though. He seems more like he’d be your big stone pal.

The chocolate variant is absolutely adorable.

8.5/10 overall for both.

* Tanawy's entry n.3: Here are two members of the Machine Family, first the Killing Machine. These relentless hunters are merciless and they are constantly upgrading, so models with different modifications are plenty. They even come with garden sprinkles. Then there is the Mecha-mynah, who puts a different spin on the mechanical Cuckoo-bird motif. Careful these guys have razor-sharp wings and they selfdestruct when cornered.

Alright, not so much for the second one, but the Killing Machine also reminds me of, like, a half dozen Yugioh monsters. Did Kazuki Takahashi just like ripping this franchise off or something? Either way, these are both good designs, but they don’t really work for me that much. They’re a little...plain? I guess? I guess I like my machine creatures rougher and with more detail. 7/10.

* Tanawy's entry n.4: Next are my deepest fears (exaggeration) if they were real; the Waspion, half wasp half scorpion, and the Claw Hammer, Half hammerhead shark half metal scolopendra, all nightmare. Continuing with the caravan of creepiness, here is the Bona Constrictor, just get it away from me. This next one, when i saw it for the first time i yelled "WTF is That?!" here is the Ulcer, a walking awful pile of rotting flesh.

I am NOT a fan of the Ulcer. That thing’s ugly, and not even in a fun way. 0/10.

I like these other guys, though:

The Waspion is literally just Gligar from Pokemon, but aside from that I like animal/creature mash-ups. And the Claw Hammer is a pretty unique one. 9/10 for the whole lot.

* Tanawy's entry n.5: Beef or chicken? Why choose when you can have both? Here is a heavyweight of the Bird Family the taurine Bullfinch. But dont forget your vegetables, or else they might turn into these Plant family monsters, the eggplant Woebergine, the bellpeppers Capsichum and the cucumber Cruelcumber. Also, meet the Peahooter, these guys pelts their targets with arrows taking advantage of their higher ground.

Okay, we’ve got another mash-up creature here in the form of the Bullfinch, but I’m not feeling this one as much. It’s worth, like, a 6.5/10, maybe. The Woebergine and the Peahooter are both pretty interesting. The Peahooter is kinda cute in a weird way and the Woebergine is delightfully derpy. They both deserve approaching an 8/10. I’m not really feeling the Capsichum at all though. They get a 5 or a 6/10.

* Tanawy's entry n.6: Who doesn't like a good dog? Well maybe not these guys from the Beast family: the Chainine who will ensnare their preys with their collars, the Putrefido, who is no longer alive, the Abracadabrador, who will eat your bones, the Crocodog, a levitating (yes this thing floats in the air) dog-crocodile hybrid and finally the Jackal Ripper (long lost relative of Wolverine or just imitator? More at 11 on the news)

Hey now. That’s not really fair to the other entries. Every one of these dudes:

Is a very GOOD BOI. I think I like the Abracadabrador the least. He’s a little too un-dog-like compared to the others. 6.5/10. The Chainine and the Putrfido are both the perfect blend of cute and weird. I like them a lot. They get 7.5/10. Jackal Ripper is a badass 8/10. He’d be cooler if he was wearing jeans. I LOVE the Crocodog, though. 10/10. Perfect. He just looks like a friend, but he also looks like he could kill my enemies. Which is what I like in a monster.

* Tanawy's entry n.7: Here is a taste of Japan with the Boppin’ badger, the most Tanuki-like monster you will ever meet; Then these guys don't need consent to give everyone within their reach a smooch, here is the Lips. Also, beware of these horses of the underworld, the Equinox where they probably hangout with these other lovely fellows, the Hellspawn. Speaking of which here is the demon Teeny Sanguini. Cute eh? Not when it evolves in the Bloody Manguini. Thankfully not everyone of them does that.

Okay, you can’t fool me. That first one is just a regular animal.

Jokes aside, though, I’m not really feeling this bunch unfortunately. The Hellspawn just reminds me too much of mutant can Steven, the Lips is a little boring, and the Equinox, while I like the wordplay in its name, and while it’s cool in principal, is too busy. I’m just not feeling the designs of these guys overall. 4 or 5/10 for the whole lot. Though the Teeny Sanguini is closer to a 5 than a 4.

* Tanawy's entry n.8: There are two species of monsters, the Pips and their cousins the Conks, who constatly imitate the classic classes of the humans, like warriors or priests, but this time the little rascals have gone a little farther and here they are copying the DQ8 4 main heroes in the Trodainian Conklave, the DQ4 heroes in the Zenithian Conklave, the hero of DQ1 and the 3 heroes of DQ2 in the Alefgardian Conklave and the hero of DQ3 with 3 other companions in the Aliahanian Conklave. Cute.

Okay, I love the idea of these things. They’re cute, they fit right in with the general aesthetic of the franchise, and they have a ton of personality. I’m not gonna post pics of all of them because there’re so many, but they deserve ~9/10 collectively. They’re very good.

* Tanawy's entry n.9: Not enough dragons? So here's three: what do you get mixing a T-rex, a dragon and a vicious axeman? An Hacksaurus that's what! Then the Drakulard. Don't be fooled by their mole these portly fellows mean business. Another chubby dragon, the Jargon: dragonic masters of the clay containers, these guys URNed their right to use jar puns and they will make sure you remenber it, even if they have to crack your pot.

Okay now these are more what I was thinking when I heard the title Dragon Quest.

I like the Hacksaurus the best outta them. He just looks nice. They’re all good, though. They fit the art style perfectly, and resemble each other just enough that you buy them all being related creatures. 8/10 overall, though the Hacksaurus is a little above the others, with the Jargon being a barely at the bottom of the barrel. Or the jar I guess.

* Tanawy's entry n.10: The only story entry in this showcase, because just look at him, it's the only DQ big baddie (at least in english) to actually call themselves "the Demon Lord" It's Orgodemir, specifically it's true form which is the first photo you find in the gallery at almost end-page. Let me just tell you this, Orgodemir is a d*ck of the highest level. The brain it's actually an eyelid for a giant eye by the way. Happy Nightmares.

HAHAHAHA. I know there are other forms for this guy, and this is probably not the reaction that anyone who played the game would have, but I just can’t take this guy seriously. He looks like Edward Cullen with bat wings. HAHAHA. 8/10 ‘cause it made me laugh.

* Tanawy's entry n.11: And lastly, in a category i like to call "I can't belive these are real", its the Funky Ferret; yes he and his cousins do exactly what the image shows. And the almost copyright-infinging Owlbear, yes they did not even try to distance themself from D&D with this one (ok they have a variant but is not saying much). There were others in the last category, but since they REALLY did not age gracefully to the modern standards of "acceptable" i prefered not show them.

I love Owlbears, they’re just such iconic fantasy monsters at this point, so he gets a solid 8/10 rating by default. It’s a pretty original take, too, focusing on the cuteness potential of the creature over the badass potential. I like that.

The Funky Ferret, though...

With a name like that this guy coulda been so cool. But he’s just a pretty generic design blended with a fart joke. What a bummer. 3/10.

And there we have it. Probably not exactly what you were thinking but I hope you like it. I don’t hate any of these guys. Some are more boring than others, but there’s something neat about each of them. I like the ones that take badass ideas and make them cute while remaining intimidating best out of all of them, and I think the Crocodog does this best with the Hacksaurus as the runner up. Crocodog is definitely my favorite of these, though. He gets the Best Good Boi award of Bestness.

Orgodemir gets an award, too, though, the “made AJ spit out his rum and Coke laughing” award. It’s not the most coveted, but it’s something.

I know this is a long one, and y’all may not want to reblog, but what do any of my followers think of these funky dudes? Leave a comment on this post or reblog with your answer in the tags!

[perpustakawan]

Asal Usul Bukit Tagiok

Published by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka Brunei in an unknown year. Written by Lamat Ja’afar. Story told by Tasim Lamat. Illustrated by Rahim Ahmad.

Bukit Tagiok is a hill that’s believed to be the source of rivers in Brunei hundreds of years ago during a great drought that turned the land a brick shade of red. The drought was called ‘The Nine Year Drought’ (Kemarau sembilan tahun) and water was severely scarce to the point that many hills turned into volcanoes. A name dropped in this book is Bukit Tabor Bintang- a hill that was previously a volcano until rivers started flowing. Geographically, Brunei does not have volcanoes and though our lands are hilly, volcano formation is unlikely to happen but I want to point out something interesting and my own little theories.

The 9-year-long drought reduced the water source of the whole country to one single well in Kampong Manggis. The height of the water is less than one’s ankles and its situated at the far bottom of the well. Seven different ladders, tied together at each end had to be use for the villagers to climb up and down. Usually they would queue up but knowing Bruneian’s haughty, selfish and petty behavior, fights that end up with killing happened a lot over water. Every single day. With the glaring heat and a large body count of people, the living, plagued in fatigue merely piled the dead bodies on top of one another and covered them in buckets of dirt to make the buriers less guilty. These poorly made graves turned into hills over time. The two greater hills were called Pungsu Timbunan and they’re the closest to the well as that’s where the killing usually happened.  

After some time, a Chinese man appeared with a jambol (a kinda haircut) and in his hand was a hammer and a nail thing. Curious on what this stranger was doing in their bare Malay lands, the villagers watched him place the nail at the base of a hill and hammer away. Water flooded out of the base of hill to the low lands to create a river. The Malays were overjoyed and their life prospered because, just like the current events, it is China that helped this struggling nation.

The Chinese man disappeared and now, the villagers, faced a even bigger dilemma; the water kept rushing in non-stop that the lowlands are the riverbeds and the highlands are the new lowlands. Sharks, crocodiles and other ocean creatures migrated to the river, namely Sungai Damaran via a channel in Sungai Mangsalut. The Chinese man, who the locals fondly call ‘Kina Bejambol’ appears, no emotions in his face and put a giant-ass rock at the hill opening. The flood stop and our hero vanished again. After some time, the villagers found a giant caterpillar resting on the flat rock of the hill base and decided to name the hill after the caterpillar instead of the man who literally saved the whole country. The Tagiok in Bukit Tagiok derived from the Bruneian word ‘giok’ which means caterpillar.

Fun fact: the rock Kina Bejambol used was flat so it’s called Batu Betilam. It’s believed that if you knock on it hard enough, it’ll sound hollow, like a well full of water. I’m not entirely sure if you can find the hill in modern day as putting ‘Bukit Tagiok’ on Waze had no results. But! Sungai Mangsalut and Bukit Tabur Bintang does exist in current day! 

Perhaps, this story is based on real events- which brings me to:

THEORY TIME

The drought lasted for 9 years and there was no mention of a Sultan. My first theory was that the story took place in the era of the Bruneian Civil War that lasted for about 13 years. The same war that started over a cockfight and two sultans were fighting over the throne. With constant war, rations are low and the drought could just be symbolizing the dread, danger and neglect the people feel amidst war. Sabah during the time was under Brunei, so Sabah’s Mount Kinabalu’s name origin being from the word ‘Aki Nabalu’ – the revered place of the dead is such a coincidence with the Pungsu Timbunan in the story. Maybe their hill is made of piles of dead bodies too?

But that doesn’t match up. Mount Kinabalu has many origins, particularly involving widows and there isn’t a mention of a widow in this book. The events could not have happened during the Bruneian Civil war as its mentioned in history how one of the Sultans fled to Pulau Chermin, stuffed the royal crown and jewelries into a canon and shot it into the ocean where it remained lost. Water existed and Brunei back then wasn’t a barren land as chickens were healthy and used for cock fights- if there was a severe drought then, no one would have time to fool around with gambling with chickens.

This brings me to my second theory: the story took place wayyyyy longer in time. Before the first recorded sultan, Sultan Muhammad Shah came to the picture and Brunei back then, was ruled by an unknown chief who wasn’t Muslim. It’s noted from far back that Brunei, through different names had very close relationships with China so that might explain why our Chinese hero came to be. This makes sense cause, historically, Awang Alak Betatar (Sultan Muhammad Shah’s name before embracing Islam) and his siblings and crew screamed “BARU NAH” (‘There!’) on a SHIP meaning water was already present in the river canals.

But this doesn’t match up either because Kampong Manggis was mentioned in the story. There isn’t any historical records mentioning when Kampong Manggis was called Kampong Manggis. I don’t have info but the fact it’s only called Kampong Manggis instead of something more archaic sounding like, Tabur Bintang, Pandai Besi, gives me the impression that Kampong Manggis is a relatively new Kampong established in modern Brunei. I can’t even recall a folk story involving the kampong too so until further info is available, both my theories of this story is flawed.

Before I end this blog post, I wish to share that I am certain that his story isn’t a silly made up story like Dayang Dengan Timun because of the insert at the very first page by the director:

In today's wave of modern society, views are not always focused on one impression. The separation gap is too obvious, when the view is absorbed from the ideals of intellect and the mind is not limited to certain norms.

The natural response is to say that all folk tales are mere fairy tales, and are not suitable and in accordance with the current state of society. This response is very detrimental. This loss is not for individuals, but for all who are entitled to it.

Folklore has a distinctive position in literature. Its role is no less important than other ancient literary works. Disclosure of stories in the form of history, education, prominence and others in the form of books, is a practical and effective method.

This series of folk tales is rewritten from the speeches of the elders. Through cultural acculturation it is not impossible that these folk tales have similarities with the folk tales in this archipelago. The treasury of these folklore will be a ristaan ​​and a point of reference for future generations who will most likely not hear these folk tales spoken by the elders. By recording these folk tales directly can also curb the extinction of these stories from disappearing just like that.

It is hoped that, in accordance with its potential as reading material, this book is suitable for additional reading of children in particular and adults in general.

This is one of the many local stories unheard of by not only my generation but my father’s too. It is by luck they managed to turn this into a book but it makes me wonder of the rest that are gone forever. This also means that any theory I throw on whether or not this event actually happened will not come to life because of this country’s lack of records in their own history (and uh, censorship. Lots of history have been omitted out of textbooks to disappear for good). 

[team-free-will-oneshots]

Time to Stop Running

Title: Time to Stop Running Request: Hi! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a fluffy little oneshot where the reader, who is younger than the Winchesters, ends up living with them? More a researcher than a hunter. They get caught by a djinn and don’t want to wake up even knowing what’s happening because in the dream Dean’s their dad and Sam is their uncle, which is how they view the brothers in reality but they’ve never said. Maybe Cas is the one to rescue them and accidentally let’s the cat out the bag. Thanks! - anon Pairing: None ! Warnings: mostly fluff but with a healthy dose of angst. mentions of killing yourself BUT not in a self-harm way, just in a getting-out-of-the-djinn-world way with zero detail about the actual act. if you’re worried it could trigger you tho, play it safe and don’t read Word Count: 3,300

note; this request was so cute and i love it so much so thank u to the anon who requested this! hope u enjoy it! also just a note i wrote the reader as being around claire’s age in this!

Running.

Feet beating on the pavement, heart pounding in your ears, short, sharp gasps tearing from your throat as you struggled to breathe.

The crescent moon hung low in the sky, a dim spotlight throwing long shadows over the alley walls, casting just enough light to illuminate the fate you that couldn’t outrun. Not this time.

The brick wall seemed to spring up in front of you, but you couldn’t slow down. You slammed into the surface, hands scraping as you pushed yourself backwards, trembling knees giving out as you collapsed to the floor. You screamed until your throat was raw - pleading for help. From Dean, from Sam, from anyone. But the warehouse district was abandoned, had been for years. No one was coming to save you, and you didn’t have the strength to fight.

Your knees were damp, the puddles of stagnant rainwater soaking through your jeans as you panted and heaved, desperate to catch your breath. The air was cold, but your clothes clung to your skin with sweat. You could hear the footsteps approaching, see the feet of your enemy as they sauntered lazily towards you. They were in no rush - they had you trapped, and they knew it.

In a last-ditch effort to defend yourself, you clawed your way to your feet, fingers finding crevices in the brick wall to aid your effort. You were shaking like a leaf, heart hammering like a snare, and you vaguely mused that this is why you only researched, and left the actual hunting to Sam and Dean.

You wracked your brains as you desperately sought for an answer, a plan to worm your way out of this fate, but came up short. “A silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood,” you heard Dean’s voice tell you, the words echoing from a time that seemed a hundred years ago now, though only a few days had passed since your conversation. “But not much can survive its brains being bashed in, either.”

Well, the first option was out - Dean had taken the knife with him when he’d left a couple of days ago. That left option two - beat it until it stopped moving. You swallowed, eyes frantically darting over your surroundings, searching for something, anything you could use as a weapon. The djinn had disarmed you of your gun at least twenty blocks ago, and so you’d ran. Just like you always did. Running from your feelings, the demons inside your own head, memories that haunted you in your sleep... and now, from death.

But the djinn had merely laughed at your attempt to flee, not even bothering to chase you. It’d let you tire yourself out, following you until you were the brink of exhaustion, relishing in your powerlessness with a cruel smirk.

That was when you spotted the brick - the worn, rust coloured object was your only weapon, your last hope. You spared a glance at the djinn before lunging forward and snatching the brick in your unsteady hands, raising it threateningly above your head, mustering every last scrap of your energy as you prepared to swing.

The djinn only scoffed, it’s hand shooting to your throat as it easily dislodged the makeshift weapon from your hands. It clattered to the ground, and you could feel the heaving of your chest, the ragged breaths that fled your lips. You heard your heartbeat in your ears, frenzied and stuttering, as loud and as constant as the sound of your feet hitting the ground.

But your feet were hovering now, flailing desperately, as the djinn raised you easily above its head. You clutched at its hand around your throat as you tore at its fingers, struggling to break free from its steadfast grip. It only smirked, and the last thing you saw was your terrified face reflected in the glowing of its azure eyes before all else faded into darkness.

---

You bolted upright, tears in your eyes and hands fisting in your bedsheets. You could still feel the cold air, heavy with recent rain as it pressed against your skin. Still feel your heart in your throat, your shaking knees and trembling hands. But when you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, you stood to find them sure and steady.

That was when you realised that this was not your room.

It was large, decorated exactly to your taste, but it’s windows overlooked an unfamiliar suburban street, and the bookshelf and desk were adorned with photos of you, Dean, and Sam that you had no memory of taking.

“Dean?” you yelled, fear clutching at your chest as you sprinted from the room, finding yourself in an unfamiliar corridor. You found a staircase and followed it down to what appeared to be a living room. There were more photos of you here, dating back to when you were only a child. And… was that Dean holding you as a toddler? You squinted, struggling to make sense of the situation when a familiar voice dragged you from your thoughts.

“In here!” Dean called, and you breathed a sigh of relief, following his voice until it led you to a kitchen. Dean stood at the stove, pushing eggs around a frying pan.

“Dean, thank God!” you exclaimed. “What happened? Why weren’t you answering my calls?”

Dean shot you a puzzled look. “What are you talking about?” he asked, and suddenly something seemed to occur to him. “Another nightmare?” he asked. “Look, I’m telling you, that college would be a fool not to let you in, and if they don’t, it’s their los-”

“What? Since when am I going to college?” you demanded, laughing nervously. Dean raised his hands in surrender.

“Hey, you were the one who was so excited about it. I know it’s not for everyone, but I thought you wanted-”

“What? Dean, what the fuck is going on?” you demanded, and he shot you a stern look.

“You watch your mouth, Y/N Winchester!” he warned. “I don’t appreciate you using that language with me, and why are you calling me by my name all of a sudden?” He half laughed, tone dripping with confusion.

“What else would I call you?” you demanded, mind still reeling at the fact he’d called you a Winchester. His brow creased.

“Oh, gee, I dunno… maybe dad? Like you have the past… I dunno, your whole friggin’ life?”

Your jaw dropped. “You- you’re saying you’re my dad?” you breathed, and he nodded slowly, eyes wide.

“Well, yeah,” he said slowly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Suddenly, an enlightened expression crossed his face. “Oh, I get it. I see what this is,” he said, and you sagged in relief.

“Oh thank god, I-”

“This is one of those challenge things you kids do, isn’t it? I saw one on Facebook the other day where kids message their parents ‘fuck’ and-”

“What? You have Facebook?” you demanded, making a face. Dean looked offended.

“Uh, yeah, how else would I have been in the PTA group chat all these years? I hate those little yellow things all over it though, give me the creeps,” he said, shuddering before turning back to his cooking.

“Y-you- the little yel- are you talking about minions?” you stammered, and Dean waved his hand nonchalantly.

“Yeah, yeah, those things. Anyway, get dressed, Uncle Sam’s coming over with Aunt Jess for brunch and they’ll be here any minu-”

“Brunch? You’re telling me we do brunch?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I know. But it was your Uncle Sam’s idea, and I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen hi-”

“Dean, stop. Just- stop. Please,” you said, voice shrinking as you wrapped your arms around yourself in fright. He saw the tears in your eyes and turned off the stove, walking over to you and resting a hand on your shoulder, face creased in parental concern.

“Hey. You okay?” he checked, and you shook your head.

“This- this isn’t real. You’re not my dad, I’ve only known you for a few years! I- I was a runaway, remember? After my family was killed by vampires? And- and you and Sam took me in and I helped you research on cases-”

Dean laughed humourlessly. “Very funny, Y/N…” he began, but fell silent when he saw you weren’t joking. “Are you feeling okay?” He pressed his hand to your forehead, frowning when your temperature seemed normal.

You exhaled shakily. “You- you and Sam were hunting a djinn, remember? You- you hadn’t been home for a few days, and you weren’t answering my calls, so I- I got worried something happened to you and headed out to the old warehouse district, and then- the djinn, it-” You froze as the penny finally dropped. “The djinn did this, didn’t it?” you exclaimed. “None of this is real. You’re not real, this is all in my head-”

“Y/N, what are you talking about? Djinns? That’s- how do you know about hunting? I haven’t hunted since- well, since your mother died.” Dean’s voice softened, and you collapsed back onto a barstool. Wow, the djinn had really gone all out - tragic backstory and all.

And now, you had a choice to make.

You knew how to get out - kill yourself, you wake up in the real world. Or…

You looked to Dean, who was looking at you with such fatherly love and concern, and realised this feeling of belonging was something you’d been seeking for years. You’d always seen Dean as a dad - not that you’d ever tell him so, of course. But now… here you were. It would be so easy to lean into this dream; live a long life, free of hunting, free of running... from monsters, from your past, from yourself.

You tried a smile. “Right,” you murmured. “I… I must’ve just had a nightmare. I’ll go get ready for brunch - as long as you promise to delete Facebook.”

Dean chuckled. “Deal,” he shot back, dismissing your conversation breezily. That solidified it, then - no real person would just ignore how crazy you’d been acting. Only a dream figure designed to keep you trapped here forever would act so cool.

But the more you forced yourself to dismiss the thoughts of your past life, the more distant they became. Your body, under the rule of the djinn venom, was all too eager to embrace this new life. By the time you were dressed, you’d almost totally forgotten the truth. As you finished doing your hair, you were interrupted by the doorbell ringing, followed by Dean’s voice calling you down.

“Coming, dad!” you called, giving yourself a once over before heading downstairs. Sam was walking into the room with Jess on his arm, and everyone’s faces lit up as they saw you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sam greeted, holding a large envelope in his hand. “I found this on your driveway - looks like it’s for you,” he said. “It’s from your top college,” he said knowingly, shooting you a wink. You grabbed it in excitement, thrilled to find you’d not only secured a place in your top course, but you’d received a full scholarship.

“That’s amazing, kid!” Dean exclaimed when you told him, pulling you in for a hug as you laughed in disbelief at the news. His eyes met yours when you pulled back, and he gave you a warm smile. “Y/N, I’m so proud of you,” he told you earnestly, and you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes at his words.

“Thanks, dad,” you whispered.

The rest of the day passed quickly, with Sam staying well until evening, though Jess had left earlier to head to work. When Sam eventually followed suit, you helped Dean clean up in the kitchen, taking the plates he rinsed and stacking them in the dishwasher.

“I meant it earlier, Y/N,” he commented idly, and you glanced over at him, humming a questioning sound. “About being proud of you. Every day, I look at you and I’m so proud of the person you’ve grown up to be. You- you’re gonna be just fine,” he mumbled, swallowing thickly as he swiped at his eyes. You gave him a teasing smile.

“You’re not going all soft on me, are you?” you jibed, and he rolled his eyes as he chuckled.

“Shut up,” he shot back, but there was no malice in the playful banter. You stacked the last plate and closed the dishwasher, stifling a yawn.

“Alright, I’m dead on my feet - I’m off to bed,” you announced, and Dean nodded.

“‘Kay, night. Sweet dreams, kiddo,” he said, and you found yourself smiling at his words.

“Night,” you bid. As you plodded sleepily up the stairs, you froze when you thought you heard footsteps behind you. Freezing, you slowly turned, glancing around before shrugging to yourself as you headed up to your room.

“Y/N!” a voice shouted, though the sound was faint, distant. You frowned - you recognised that voice. You paused and listened keenly for a moment, before shrugging the sound off again as you went to brush your teeth.

That was when he appeared, running into your room, eyes frantic as he searched for you. “Y/N!” he sighed in relief as he saw you.

“Castiel?” The name rolled smoothly off your tongue, though you weren’t quite sure how you knew it.

“Y/N, this isn’t real - none of this is real. You need to wake up!” he said, handing you a silver dagger. An angel blade, your mind whispered. His words didn’t alarm you as much as they should have.

“This- what? What are you talking about?” you hissed. You had half a mind to call for help, but something told you this man wouldn’t hurt you. You stared at the silver blade in your hand, saw your frightened expression reflected in the polished metal. A gasp fled from your lips as you remembered the last time you’d seen yourself like this - reflected in the glowing blue eyes of-

“The djinn,” you breathed, and you saw Castiel visibly relax in relief.

“Yes. Come on, we don’t have much time - Sam and Dean have killed it, but you’re barely alive, Y/N. You need to wake up.”

“What? No! Why? This place- I’m happy here! I feel happier here than I’ve ever felt in real life!” you objected, and Cas looked at you like you’d grown an extra head.

“It’s not real, Y/N!” he insisted, and you shrugged.

“So? I’m happy here!”

“You’ll die!” he argued.

“Y/N? You okay?” Dean’s voice called, and you heard his heavy footsteps trod up the stairs and pad down the hallway. He knocked on your door, three sharp raps with the back of his knuckles. “Everything alright?”

“It’s fine, dad!” you called, and Cas raised his eyebrows.

“Dean’s your father here?” he asked. “That’s the wish the djinn granted for you in this world?” You ducked your head, running your fingers nervously through your hair.

“Well… yeah,” you mumbled, and Cas’s expression crumpled in sympathy.

“Y/N, you need to come home. Sam and Dean are worrying themselves sick, I’ve never seen them so upset before,” he told you. You blinked back tears.

“Cas… I… I can’t…”

“Y/N? Who’s in your room? I’m coming in!” Dean declared, the door swinging open as he charged into the room. Cas didn’t pay him a second glance.

“Y/N, please. You need to wake up. He isn’t real!” he insisted, and Dean grew angry.

“Aren’t you listening to them? They’re happy here!” Dean snapped at the angel. He turned to you. “Y/N, you’re happy here, aren’t you? You’re my kid - I love you, I’m proud of you. Don’t you want to keep that?” he persuaded, and you nodded frantically, but Cas stepped in front of him, blocking Dean from your sight. His blue eyes bore into yours.

“Y/N. He’s not real. But you know who is? The real Dean. He’s beside himself with worry - you know he’ll only blame himself if you don’t wake up,” he reminded you. “You can’t just run away from your family, even if you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you’d be happier here.” You clenched your jaw.

“Are you trying to guilt trip me?” you spat, and Castiel nodded.

“Is it working?”

You stood silently for a moment, before sighing. “I wish it wasn’t,” you murmured, but slowly, you raised the silver blade. You closed your eyes.

It was time to stop running.

---

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up, c’mon, please, wake up!”

You blinked as Dean’s voice slowly came into focus, moaning as you realised how weak you felt. Dean crushed you to his chest the moment your eyes fluttered open, hugging you so tightly you could hardly breathe.

“Oh, thank god,” he murmured, before pulling back in anger. “What the hell were you thinking, going after that thing on your own like that? Sam and I had it covered!” he snapped.

“You- you weren’t answering your phone,” you managed to choke out, your mouth dry and tongue rougher than sandpaper. You cleared your throat, wincing at the pain.

“I left the charger at the motel,” Dean replied weakly, and you managed a smile.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. No offense, though - you kinda look like shit.”

Dean rolled his eyes, looking to the roof as he blinked back tears. “Shut up,” he muttered. “Come on, let’s get you home. We’ll talk more about how stupid you were being when you’re feeling better,” he chided, and you chuckled.

“‘Kay,” you slurred tiredly, relaxing into his chest as he picked you up and took you back to the Impala.

---

“Don’t go too hard on them, Dean,” Cas told him once you were safe and sound, snug in your bed in the bunker. Dean’s jaw was tight.

“They could’ve died, and it would’ve been my fault. Why would they go after me? They’re just a kid, they can’t really have thought they could handle something even Sam and I couldn’t!”

“I think… Y/N sees you as a father figure,” Cas said slowly. “And I happen to remember your reaction when your father had gone on a hunting trip and hadn’t come home in a few days,” he said knowingly, and Dean felt himself soften.

“They- they see me as a father figure? Me?” he asked in disbelief, and Cas nodded.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “In their dream world, you were their father - it was the reason they didn’t want to leave. Though I’m not sure they’d be pleased I told you…”

Dean shook his head. “No, I-I’m glad you did,” he stammered, nodding to himself. “Thanks.”

The angel nodded, and once he’d left, Dean headed into your room. The bed creaked as he sat on it’s edge, and you stirred, blinking sluggishly as you glanced up at him. He smiled softly.

“Hey. How you feeling?”

“Okay,” you sighed. “Exhausted, mostly.”

“Yeah, well, Cas healed you- you just need to rest,” he said quietly. “Hey… look, I’m not happy that you put yourself in danger like that, especially not for me and Sam. But I know that must have been… well, terrifying for you, and… I just wanted to say that I’m proud of you. I probably don’t say that as often as I should, but… you’re a good kid. You’re gonna be just fine.”

A small, teary smile tugged the corner of your mouth at the familiar words. They felt even better when they came from the real person, not the ghost of him your mind had conjured up.

“Thanks, Dean,” you mumbled, and he smiled, eyes heavy with emotions he didn’t know how to voice.

“Get some sleep,” he urged, pulling the blankets up over you. You nodded, yawning.

“Night, Dean.”

“Sweet dreams, kiddo.”

__________

Forever tags: @babygirloreo @calaofnoldor @stealingheartsswift13 @lmpala97 @sebastianshoe @81mysteriouslyme  @castieliswatchingoverme

Dean tags: @polina-93

If you want to be added to any of my tag lists just let me know !!

[roombagreyjoy]

Prompt - "What the hell were you thinking? You could have been hurt." And someone from Ragnarok? (Preferably Laurits lmao) there's not enough content for this show tbh

Here you go! This took me way too long to edit (I wrote it in two or three hours, during a manic, sleepless spree at 4AM and it needed a lot of work to be decent enough to be posted)

I am still taking prompts. However, I lost the Prompt List this was taken from because according to Tumblr, it doesn’t exist in my blog anymore! Say hooray for a functioning website! But if you want to, you can still request stuff, freestyle this time! (probably for as long as quarantine lasts; I use these to warm up for my actual writing job, so they’re greatly appreciated)

Oh, and before I forget: IF YOU REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION I WILL RIP YOUR HEAD RIGHT OFF YOUR BODY thank you for understanding :)

-----

Prompt #1: (You can also read it on my AO3 page)

Concerned & upset: “What the hell were you thinking? You could have been hurt.”

Alternative Title: Magne does a Big Mad and it has Consequences. Laurits is just here to have a good time, to be honest.

Fandom: Ragnarök (Netflix 2020)

Pairings: None

Characters: Laurits Seier & Magne Seier, Ran Jutul (mentioned), Turid Seier (mentioned), Gry Isungset (mentioned), Fjor Jutul (mentioned), Vidar Jutul (mentioned)

Content Warnings: Some swearing, non-explicit violence, poorly executed pop culture references.

Length: 1550 words (even though AO3 says the contrary I swear it’s 1550 I deleted an entire sentence for it to fit perfectly don’t @ me I will stomp you to death with my hooves)

“What the hell were you thinking? You could have been hurt.”

The answer came just a second too late. His brother, as always, was lost deep in his own thoughts, oblivious to the outside world except for those occasions he deemed worthy of his attention. Laurits really, really could not understand this. Magne was opening his mouth to reply already, at a wearing speed if Laurits may say so himself, so he beat his brother to it, robbing him of a chance to explain himself.

“You really have changed since we came to Edda,” he said.

“I told you!” Magne protested. “I-”

“You’ve got stupider.”

“Hey!”

“Hey.”

Magne was silent again, but this time he replied in time to avoid one of his younger brother’s viper-like comments.

“… That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Laurits was being vicious with him today, for some reason. Unfairly so, thought Magne. “Isn’t it, truly, my brother dear?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Alright.”

“You’re being kind of a dick, you know.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t even hesitate to reply. Not once. Then again, he never did. Magne didn’t know what had got into him, but he knew that the blame was probably on his shoulders. At least from his brother’s perspective.

“Look… I tried explaining it to you, but if you’re going to keep on being an asshole about it and tell me that you don’t believe me… again…”

Laurits stared at him intently, waiting for him to finish the sentence for the first time since they sat down in their beautiful, precious, lavender blue living room. Kitchen? Lounge? The house was way too small to try and categorise every room in it. Not that there were many, anyway.

And it was godawfully horrible. The house, he meant. The floors creaked, the water pressure was practically non-existent, the wind came through the ancient wooden planks in the walls and the floor, through the carpet and the wallpaper, taking hold of him even when he curled up under the blankets, deep in his bones… the neighbourhood was pretty much a ghetto. And Magne still could not get along with his goddamn sentence. Laurits really needed a Valium at that point. Or a couple shots of vodka. And a cigarette.

“So?” He basically beseeched Magne to continue.

“So what?!”

“Well. Carry on.”

Wayward son.

This really wasn’t the time for that. Pay attention. Your brother’s talking. Or. Well. He’s trying to talk.

“You didn’t believe me the first time. And you don’t believe me now either.”

“Magne…”

“You said I couldn’t throw a hammer that far.”

“You wouldn’t survive being run over by a snowplough either. And yet. Here we are.”

“So, you believed that?”

“I never believe anything, Magne. Trust is for fools.”

“So?” This time was his older brother’s turn. Laurits found it funny for some reason. It probably wasn’t funny, but at that point he was on the brink of an anxiety attack, or a fit of laughing hysteria. Which may actually let loose some of the tension he’d been building up for the past few days, anyway, so that might be productive.

“See, this is why we’re different. You. You don’t look. You don’t pay attention. You don’t corroborate anything.” He said.

“And you do.”

“You bet your ass I do.”

“So what? That makes me an idiot?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. I’m not your uh… headmistress.” He smirked at the thought. The memory, more like. Oh, what a glorious day. And everyone was looking. He was nervous, but confident. The anxiety made him feel alive. He couldn’t perform without it. And performing, that he did. He was born for it. The theatrics, the drama of it all… a mischief well made, a perfect execution.

Oh. He was going to be grounded forever.

Oh. It was so worth it.

Although, on second thought, not being on the Jutul’s good graces might present a problem or two in the future. Perhaps he was the idiot.

That was a problem for future him, however.

And, besides, if what Magne had told him was even remotely true, the stunt he pulled in front of the ever-so-charming people from the town of Edda (more like village, ugh) and their lovely headmistress was the least of his concerns.

He didn’t know how much Magne knew. He didn’t know how much he knew himself. He knew some stuff, of course, but it didn’t seem to be enough. All he knew is that the Jutuls knew more than them. Probably more than them combined and multiplied twice. And that was a problem.

Vidar laying unconscious, or probably dead (because Magne was too much of a wuss to check… either that or he really was way more fucked up by the fight than he claimed he was) was also, if he may say so himself, the very definition of a problem.

He could fix it though. He was always fixing his brother’s fuck-ups. His mother’s. He always fixed everyone’s fuck-ups. Fair enough, he caused more problems than the solved. But that didn’t matter.

He was a kid, for crying out loud. Or was he? Had he always been a kid? Was he still? Can you be a kid if you’re stripped of your childhood, with a dead father, a constantly moving, constantly changing housing situation, a detached mother and a brother as thick as a brick? He understood why Magne was the way he was. Sometimes he wondered why he hadn’t ended up that way as well.

“Hm.” He hummed, seeing Magne was not likely to continue the conversation. “So. Thor.”

“Yes. Thor.”

“Yes Thor.”

“That’s… that’s what I said.”

“And Gry also knows.”

“And Gry also knows.”

“How much does she know?”

“As much as you. Maybe less… maybe more. Whatever Fjor has told her.”

A pinch in his stomach. That was going to be a problem.

All he seemed to be getting were problems.

“Because they left together.” Laurits said, recounting what Magne had told him.

“Yeah.”

A thought crossed Laurits’ mind like a lightning bolt. If you’ll excuse the pun. Something to take his mind off the fact that Gry was leaving with Fjor. He really should not be feeling this jealous. He coughed slightly. The thought was gone. Crisis averted. For now.

“And Saxa?” He asked.

“What about her?” Magne stared at him in confusion.

“She was there, singing. And then I gave my speech.”

“So, she couldn’t have seen anything.”

“Neither could Ran. But I’m more worried about Saxa. She’s vicious.”

“You don’t think Ran could be mad about me killing her husband?” Magne. Please. For the love of anything you hold sacred. Don’t yell things like that. These walls are paper thin, for crying out loud.

“What I think doesn’t matter because we don’t know anything. But, as you’ve asked, I think Ran is more rational than her. I don’t think she would do anything to compromise her position with the people in town.”

“She’s already compromised.”

“She’s a-ah.” Laurits let out a small, incredulous chuckle. “Of course she’s already compromised. What did you do, you sick son of a bitch?”

“I may or may not have left a couple of those toxic kegs in front of the police station.”

“I may or may not be surprised that you were actually right about that.”

“You’re not.”

“You’re right: I’m not. This town sucks. But I stand by what I said: you really need to quit the Isoldecologist act.”

Magne did not reply.

“Look. The kegs are irrelevant. Ran is not tied to Jutul industries the way Vidar is. Was. May still be.” Continued Laurits.

“But the rumour…”

“Fair point. But still, she may not be legally tied to them.”

“People talk…”

“Shit. Most people talk shit. But yes, as I said, you’ve got a point. She has to keep her reputation, after all…” That was an interesting turn of events.

“So, what do we do?”

“We? Why are you including me?”

“Well, I just told you all this. You’re not just going to sit there and do nothing, are you?” Magne frowned.

But he was right. Laurits was tired of doing nothing. He had done nothing long enough. That situation had changed a few hours ago, actually. And he suposed he could not stand idle for any longer.

“Fine. We will think of something once you get rid of those clothes, shower, and mum comes home and we pretend nothing has happened. You smell like a poorly cooked barbeque.”

Magne let out a big, deep sigh. “Okay.”

“… I’m still mad at you, you know.”

“What for?”

“Um. Electrocuting yourself, for starters.”

“That wasn’t me, that was-”

“Thor. Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What if you weren’t, though. What if you were wrong? You could’ve got hurt.”

“You already said that.”

“And you’ll hear it again!” He said, triumphantly raising his fist in the air. Magne, as usual, just stared at him. Laurits let out his breath, defeatedly. He really couldn’t do anything fun in this house, no one understood pop culture references.

“Look,” he said. “Just go shower. Mum will yell at you for a bit. We’ll have dinner. She’ll take her usual spot in front of the TV, sulk for a while, pass out, and then we can talk. I got to make a few calls.”

[avehi-the-adamant]

Into the Breach - Finale

| Avehi’s Prelude | Argonas’ Prelude | Pt. I | Pt. II | Pt. III | Pt. IV | 

Quickly as she could, Avehi slipped behind a pillar. The Naga responded quickly, that was for sure! The one that escaped must have called reinforcements in to sweep the ruins and finish her and Argonas off. She scowled; if Argonas had managed to finish off that one that escaped, this wouldn’t have happened! She peeked around from the pillar… but saw nothing. A look closer would give away her position, and she wasn’t sure how many there were. Had they already gotten Argonas? Or by storming off, had he inadvertently evaded them? It didn’t matter - she could take them. She could take them all.

Silently, she slipped her hammer down from her back into her waiting hands as the steps grew closer and-- ‘Steps?’ she realized. Naga didn’t walk. They slithered! This didn’t sound like any naga at all. In fact, it sounded a lot like hoofsteps. Too light to be Argonas’, however. Could it be? 

‘...Mierne?’

There was only one way to know for certain. Avehi quietly peered out from behind the pillar once more, to see the intruder. It wasn’t a Naga, but… it wasn’t Mierne either. 

“--Sina?”

Sure enough, by some coincidence, Sinafay had wandered upon her! The two blinked at one another, surprised and confused to see each other in such a place! 

"Avehi?"

“What are you doing down here?” the Death Knight asked, as she stepped down from the ledge and sheathed her hammer.

Sinafay shook her head, seemingly exhausted from simply recalling all that had transpired! She let out a light sigh.

“Well... “ she shrugged. “I was on a boat and a hole opened up in the ocean so…”

"--Aah... you were on that ship? Tch..." Avehi frowned. “Not ideal... Glad you're okay, at least.”

Unsurprising - Sinafay had been working with the Seventh Legion a while now. But to bump into her here and now, immediately following that heated conversation with Argonas was… alarming. Sinafay nodded, seeming relieved to see another familiar face in such a dour place.

"Indeed. This was an unexpected detour.” she understated. “Sylaess is here too, but... I was unaware you were on the ship as well."

“I wasn’t.” Avehi shook her head. “I had High Vindicator Khanaros beam me down here."

Her expression curdled, unable to help but morph into a scowl.

“The Naga... they took Mierne.”

Sinafay’s luminous eyes widened a bit… as her brow raised both to compensate widening eyes, and in some small measure of confusion. She couldn’t quite place the name…

"Mierne... who is that again?"

The Death Knight scoffed a bit. 

“My friend. My shaman friend, remember?” she snapped, as if it should have been obvious! “I know I've talked about her to you!”

“Oh! The one Argo slept with?” Sinafay replied.

‘Sure. That she remembers…’ Avehi thought to herself.

“The very one.” Avehi said aloud. “--Aah, speaking of, he's down here too.”

“Oh?” Sinafay replied, seeming both excited… and worried. 

A part of why she had embarked on a Seventh Legion mission was to distance herself from Argonas a bit, and distract herself from the pregnancy. It came as a surprise, to be sure - for both of them. She simply needed some time to process it, grow accustomed to it… and accept it. Especially after…

"He's scouting ahead around here, somewhere." Avehi added, breaking Sinafay’s train of thought. 

A welcome deviation, all the same. Sinafay didn’t want to dwell on it too long. Especially in a place like this.She nodded, looking off into the distance. 

"Here to rescue her as well, I assume?" she inquired.

“At the High Vindicator's direction.” Avehi all but scoffed, shaking her head. “Personally, I don't need him. He's slowing me down."

“You will think differently when the naga begin to swarm.”

“Perhaps so.” Avehi shrugged, joining Sinafay in gazing out across the alien landscape. “I’m tearing down that keep over there brick by brick either way.”

Sinafay gave Avehi a tired grin. The Death Knight’s arrogance was amusing, in a way. She wondered if Argonas was sent along with Avehi to make sure she didn’t get herself killed. Again.

"He is also good at assuring you will not rush into situations blindly."

“Hmph!” Avehi scoffed! “You sure about that? He seems to have rushed into this little situation blindly…”

She motioned to Sinafay - specifically, her midsection. It wasn’t too hard to realize to what she was referring - a topic Sinafay wasn’t keen on discussing. Her expression changed immediately to one of hurt. She turned, stepping closer to a pillar and leaning against it, tail dragging behind her.

"That was my fault.” she said, somberly. “He was taking precautions. I was not."

“Clearly neither of you were.” Avehi retorted, skeptically.

“He was taking herbal tea.”

"If he were taking the tea, you wouldn't be pregnant. Isn't that the point of the tea?”

“Nothing is one hundred percent effective.” Sinafay sighed, knowing that well, now. “Perhaps if we both had been taking it, but…”

"--Now you're trapped down here, carrying his baby…” Avehi interrupted. “I guess he's slowing both of us down, in different ways.This works out, though. When he sees you, he'll come stay with you down here, and I can press on with finding Mierne.”

"Are you done?" Sinafay asked, shooting Avehi a nasty look.

“--Settle down, I'm joking.” Avehi replied with a light shrug. “... Sort of.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, yes…” the Death Knight waved a hand - apparently she’d irked her friend. “He's actually keeping pace with me pretty well, for a living person."

Sinafay's tail flickered, before she relaxed slightly. She went back to looking out over the terrace.

"You were paired up for a reason.” she counseled. “Whether you like each other or not, you need to work together to help rescue your friend."

Avehi sighed - Sinafay was right. The High Vindicator didn’t know Argonas had any personal connection to Mierne. He selected him to join Avehi on this important mission all the same. She knew Khanaros wasn’t a fool. Even in an emotionally charged situation like this, she knew he had the tactical details in the forefront of his mind. Argonas was clearly a good pick for this. And as much as she hated admitting it… it was never a bad idea to have back-up.

"... Maybe.” she admitted, spitting out the word as if she wished to keep it in her mouth forever. “I suppose it wouldn't be bad, having someone watch my back. Just in case? I mean… it didn't do his wife any good on Argus, but…”

Avehi shrugged. 

"I'm already dead."

Sinafay sighed. Heavily. That subject was touchy as well, but… Avehi wasn’t exactly wrong. She opted to ignore the comment. 

“What's the situation down here, Alliance-wise? They have a base set up, I presume?” Avehi glanced to Sinafay, inquisitively changing the subject. "Or are you and Sylaess the only ones who made it?"

“There are ruins to the southwest of the maw. Survivors are taking care of injured and gathering what supplies they can salvage.” Sinafay reported. “We have allies.... fish-like people. I forget what it is they are called. But they were battling the naga before we arrived.”

“Mm. 'The enemy of my enemy...'” Avehi nodded once, letting the quote trail off. “Argonas and I should stop by, I suppose. He'll need rest, at some point."

“A good place to recharge for certain.” Sinafay agreed. “Those of us who were fortunate enough to come out uninjured were sent out to explore and secure footholds.”

“Makes sense. What are the options for avenues out of here?” The Death Knight followed up, eyes cast to the sky. “Beaming down here from the Vindicaar was a one-way trip. We don't have a return beacon or anything... and we'll need to get Mierne home immediately.”

She clenched her fists.

"No telling what those savage Naga are doing to her..."

“Some of the battle-mages are attempting to create a portal to Boralus.” Sinafay looked to Avehi, brow askew. “...Do you know why your friend was taken? I thought she lived away from all this, on the Isles.”

Avehi hesitated in answering that, going quiet for a moment - oddly stoic, even for her. Her tail flickered once or twice, as she debated confiding in Sinafay. What would she think of her? Her lichfire eyes looked over other Vindicator. Why was she worried? Sinafay was her friend. The type of friend she could tell anything to, honestly and candidly. 

“Did she join the war?” Sinafay began guessing, bridging the awkward silence. “Was she taken from the boat?”

“... Can I tell you a secret, Sister?”

"Who am I going to tell?" Sinafay asked, with a shrug.

"It's my fault."

The Lightforged raised her brow at Avehi.

"How so?"

“Did I... tell you about Nedemus' relic? The one the Ebon Blade is after?”

“I do not believe so.” she shook her head. “...Nedemus is the dog you sleep with, yes?

The worgen I used to sleep with.” Avehi corrected, quickly. “I've found--”

She cut short, before shaking her head. That wasn’t important. 

"... That's another story." she dismissed the thought. “But... this relic... it's empowering, yes? And... he gave it to me, for safe keeping.”

“You gave to Mierne, then?” Sinafay began guessing once more.

“No, no... I…” Avehi frowned, shoulder slumping. “I used it. I went to the Isles... I killed... so many Naga…”

The icy blue flames of her eyes flickered excitedly at the recollection. Despite the repercussions… she enjoyed doing that. Sinafay noticed - her own tail flickered a bit, in concern… but she listened on nonetheless.

“The rest ran away... so I left. I hid the relic, and thought nothing of it.” Avehi continued, before shaking her head. “But they came back. In force."

“Oh.” Sinafay frowned, as she pieced the rest together, slowly. “--Oooh… I see.”

“She... fought them off as well as she could, I'm sure, but…” Avehi nodded slowly, looking out across Nazjatar. “They took her. Down here, somewhere."

“Well…” Sinafay was at a loss for any response - and probably should’ve kept it that way. “At least I know I am not the only one who can fuck things up.”

“--This isn't the same.” Avehi snapped. “Her life is at risk.”

"Bah.” Sinafay smiled, confidently. “I have faith you and Argo can rescue her."

“That…” Avehi's stern expression softened. “... is appreciated, actually. Thank you. So far, I've just been so focused on it, worrying if I'm up to the task. Argonas has been no help with that, either. We're constantly bickering... I don't know what you see in him, frankly.”

She paused a moment, then shrugged. She remembered now.

"Besides his body."

“He is honorable, patient and loyal.” Sinafay said, matter-of-factly. “He is amazing to fight alongside with in battle. A great teacher…”

Her eyes welled up…

"...And he is willing to stay with me through this..."

“Hmph. Of course he is.” the Death Knight huffed. “He loves you.”

“We do not love each other.” Sinafay corrected. “That is for certain. He loves his dead wife. And I…”

Sinafay trailed off, emotions building up. Avehi caught notice of it, and glanced sidelong to her friend - brow askew. 

“You what?"

No words came out… only tears. Sinafay began sobbing heavily, tears glistening in the illumination of her eyes as they streamed down those pale cheekbones of hers. Avehi fidgeted uncomfortably. This was the part of friendships she hated. Even in life, she was never very skilled at comforting people. Except men, in only one or two certain ways, but… that wouldn’t help her here. She stepped closer to Sinafay, and gave a single, gentle tap on her plated pauldron. Nailed it.

“Tch... there, there…” she said, mustering all the caring tone she could. “This is... just hormones, yes? Flaring up your emotions…”

“--I had love! I had it... and and... and he left me!” Sinafay exploded in lamentation.

"What?” Avehi blinked. “What're you talking about?"

Sinafay removed her gauntlets and started wiping the tears from her eyes - a folly task, at this point, as more and more tears streamed down her face.

"On Draenor... we fell in love... on Draenor... and now it is over... and I am alone...." she sobbed. “He... he travelled time and space to come rescue me... brought me here. We were supposed to be together... when the war ended... together in Pandaria... but then he found out about the baby…”

Avehi blinked again! She shook her head, brow furrowed in confusion. Nothing Sinafay said was making sense. She’d never mentioned a lover before. Definitely not one that saved her from captivity.

"Wait... I thought you said some Orc saved you from Dra--" she stopped, as it clicked. “...enor…”

Sinafay winced, sobbing slowing only slightly as she looked up at Avehi with eyes wide. She’d let it slip, inadvertently…

"Please, do not tell Argonas.... do not tell anyone..."

“You're in love... with…” Avehi spoke lowly. “An Orc.”

Sinafay hesitated, but nodded after a moment. It was too late, now.

“... His name is Grakkar.”

Avehi found herself at a loss for words. Of all the things she’d expected to hear, that certainly wasn’t one of them! She remembered in her youth, before the Orcs and Draenei were at odds with one another, a few of her friends would talk about them fondly. It was something of a taboo back then too, of course, but that made it all the more alluring. But even back then, Avehi never saw the appeal. Now… even less so. She had no idea what to say. No idea how to react. Sinafay seriously went from being enamored with a strong and handsome - albeit conceited and arrogant - Draenei Vindicator… to falling in love with some savage orc mongrel? Her lip snarled in disgust, as she shook her head.

“... Gross.”

Sinafay growled. She expected a response like that was possible, but had hoped Avehi would at least have the decency to keep it to herself in a moment like this! She turned and faced Avehi - face contorted into a tear-glazed scowl!

"Can you NOT right now?!"

“--I'm sorry! I find out my friend is in love with an orc, and I'm not allowed to comment?” the Death Knight raised her hands, defensively. 

She shook her head, and sighed - Again, Sinafay was right. This wasn’t the time. She had disclosed something personal to her, just as she’d done earlier about Mierne. Avehi knew she could hold her tongue, and let her friend vent. She looked at Sinafay, somewhat apologetically.

"--Fine, fine, not the time..." she conceded, as she brought a finger to her lips in a hushing gesture. "Your secret's safe with me."

Sinafay grumbled lowly, agitated and hormonal. Avehi’s poor response already sank in, setting the Lightforged into a sour mood. She huffed at the Death Knight. 

“...You fuck dead worgen, but an Orc is where you draw the line?!” she muttered.

Avehi’s tail flickered, eyes narrowing. Restraint became all that much harder to keep.

“--That's way different, first of all…” she began…

Sinafay simply stared at Avehi.

"Dead. Worgen."

Again, the Death Knight’s tail flickered. She clenched her plated fists, air around her growing cold.

“I am dead. You may have noticed.” she replied, through grit teeth. “So don't say 'dead' like it's some horrible trait. I already know. Thanks.”

She pointed a frosted finger at Sinafay, accusingly, as she leaned in. 

“Second - at least worgen are sentient, allied creatures. Orcs are simple savages! It's like saying you fell in love with a Naga!” she exclaimed. “Or a Murloc!”

That was too far. Sinafay snapped. She gave up EVERYTHING defending the Orcs, keeping them from her people’s oppressive overreach! For Avehi to refer to them as anything less than equal was a grievous affront! She reached down, grabbed one of the gauntlets she’d removed, and threw it with force at Avehi’s face!

"Do NOT call them that!"

Avehi didn’t flinch - the gauntlet struck true, slapping the undead Vindicator across her icy face, before it fell harmlessly to the ground at her hooves. Her fists clenched, eyes flaring - then… 

“... Kill her…”

Avehi blinked. She’d never heard the Hunger’s voice so clearly in her mind before. It was jarring, far more so than the actual strike Sinafay had landed on her. She felt like she did in days long past… those days interrogating Scarlet Crusaders, or striking down Argent footmen. 

She felt like a monster.

Her tail began to intermittently flicker, to and fro in no pattern or rhythm. Her expression hid it all - the shock, the confusion, the shame… she simply shook her head, turning away from Sinafay.

“... I don't have time for this.” she muttered. “You're hormonal. And... whatever he is... you loved him, and he dumped you. I know that can't be easy.”

Sinafay looked confused, and disappointed. Clearly, she was ready for some manner of retaliation. But… not that. She reached down as Avehi stepped away, and picked up her gauntlet. With a snarl, she backed up to the ledge once more, and sat upon the low wall beside the pillar. She was fuming… and now had no outlet for it. 

"Brood about it somewhere safe.” Avehi advised, voice level and impassive as if reading instructions aloud. “Get home as soon as you can. I'll send Argonas your way, to cheer you up."

‘Clearly I can’t...’  she thought to herself.

Sinafay just shook her head in silence, going about wiping fresh tears from her face. She had nothing more to say to Avehi. And the feeling was mutual. Avehi strode off without another word. She had other business here, anyway...

~*~

((Adapted RP logs between myself and @kidcatgemini / @sinafay-the-defiant, @sinafay1, and @miernethepersevering belong to her. @sylaess & @nedemus for mention))

[lhunuial]

FFXIV || At Urkhago Kaa

Although the sun had already set, neither Naran nor Zhusai felt like returning to the yurt they shared with their grandmother. The sky was clear and the stars were shining bright. It was the perfect time for a swim in the lake. Both of them slipped out of their robes and jumped into the water. 

The lake was ever a source of comfort to the clan. Not only did it provide them with water, but relief as well when the summers were hot.

Both girls swam towards the statue of Nhaama and the waterfalls, climbing onto the rocks near Nhaama’s feet. It was one of their favourite places to sit. Living in the way they did meant everyone was always together. They didn’t even know what privacy was, nor did they care much for it.

Still, it was nice to get some peace and quiet at times, the space near the statue’s feet was perfect for it.  Their feet dangled in the water and at times they splashed water onto each other. There was a lot to talk about, what with the group of guests the Urkhago were hosting.

Naran had something on her mind ever since they first met their guests. A frown rested upon her face as she thought about it again. “Grandma and you keep saying you remember Salkhi, but I don’t remember anything. I see him and my mind goes blank.”

Zhusai started laughing. “Really? Don’t you remember that time we had to go chase after several sheep, because they left the herd? Salkhi was the boy who was supposed to shepherd them, but he spent most time daydreaming and several sheep walked off. We chased after them for hours trying to get them back. That was shortly before the Adarkim took him.”

Naran’s eyes widened as she finally remembered. “One of them even made as far as Ceol Ahn. I was so annoyed. I did not get back to camp until late in the evening, all the while thinking that one of the other clans would stumble upon me.”

“Grandmother tasked him with something else the next day, something that wouldn’t cost us our livestock.”  The two girls started giggling. 

Naran dropped herself back into the water and swam in a circle. The water felt so nice on her skin and scales.  She suddenly threw a wicked look at her sister. “He has such long hair! His hair is probably just as long as that mysterious redhead that travels with them. And he’s so pretty. Not very tall, but very pretty.”

“Their leader is not very tall either.” Zhusai joined her sister in the water and started floating.

That was true. Many Xaela were taller. “He’s very intense though.” Naran chuckled. “Have you seen the look in his eyes? I have seen the way he looked at us when we stopped our warriors from shooting them. That man has a hunger inside him.”

“I was too busy trying to deescalate the situation to pay much heed to that, Naran.”

Naran splashed some water over her sister’s floating body. “Then you should pay more attention. That wasn’t the only time. There were at least two times more since he arrived in the village.”

Zhusai did notice how Altanur looked when they talked to him about the village and Doman culture from when they went to the frontier towns. It put a smile on her face. The man definitely was intriguing. He still hadn’t really said anything about what he planned on doing once he left the Steppe, but he looked like he was a man with a purpose. 

He was not the only one in his company though. Neither was Salkhi. There were more. “Did you notice how big Tumur is? I heard him tell Tarkhan he used to fight through enemy lines all on his own. And Kiril is apparently a superb hunter.”

Naran nodded. She did hear what Salkhi said about his companions. Looking back on what happened it was quite annoying how the Khoriotoi overpowered the Urkhago warriors so easily, but then the Urkhago men had made the mistake to just rush off and not think things through. Things would have ended quite differently, had they simply let Zhusai and her do their thing. “Speaking of Tarkhan, have you talked to him yet? All I’ve seen him do since we returned to the village is being his moody self.”

They both looked into the direction of the village’s practise grounds. A lone figure was at work there. They didn’t need to be able to see him well to know it was the very person they were talking about. “No,” Zhusai admitted. “He refused to speak to me when I approached him earlier. I’m sure he’ll seek me out when he feels the need to rage at me.”

Naran shook her head and made a few disapproving clicking sounds with her tongue. “That boy has such issues at times.”

“He means well” was Zhusai’s reply. “He wants to prove himself as a valuable member of our clan. He dreams of being Khan one day. You know that.” Still, Tarkhan’s moods were a cause for concern at times and he didn’t seek out the udgan often enough for help.

Her sister nodded. It was obvious, really. That didn’t mean Naran would let him off easy though. Sometimes he really needed to be set straight. She grinned at her sister. They weren’t done discussing their guests, so she was happy to bring the topic back to that.

“What about Khulan then? Have you ever seen a Xaela woman so big? I haven’t.” Naran still couldn’t believe it was possible. All Xaela women she’d ever met were small. How did she get to be so big? It could not be natural. She mistook Khulan for a man at first. The woman never left Altanur’s side and seemed very guarded. “ I wonder if she used magic to get so tall.” 

Khulan was something else. Zhu saw the woman never left Altanur’s side and, while she initially seemed in awe of Urkhago Kaa and the valley it was in, she seemed more guarded and closed off at the clan dinner. “Why don’t you go and ask her?”

“You know, you are right. I should and I am going to.” Naran had her mind made up.This was such a rare situation and Khulan seemed like such an interesting person… It was too good to pass up. The Urkhago knew about many tribes beliefs and customs. They knew about the Oronir’s beliefs concerning Azim and Nhaama. Khulan’s life among them could not have been easy.

The two girls laughed together. It wasn’t rare for the Urkhago to invite guests. In fact, they had a few more guests at the moment next to the Khoriotoi: a couple of foreign merchants and traders they met in the frontier towns. They were picky on who they invited to the valley though. Usually they invited guests to a small encampment they set up. That camp also served as a diversion for the other Xaela tribes, whenever they were on a warpath.

They weren’t done discussing the Khoriotoi yet. It was quite a group and there were two more members. Usha was the most straightforward of them. She seemed kind and very eager to learn about the Urkhago magics that hid the valley from view, as well as the protective spell Zhusai used to cast the barrier during their first encounter.

Arzu on the other hand… Zhusai was not sure what to make of her. There was something about her, something strong that at the same time caused shivers to run down her spine. She wasn’t what she appeared to be, that much Zhusai could tell. That alone was a cause for concern and a reason to stay alert.

“Zhusai!”

Tarkhan stood at the lake’s shores.Even where the girls were swimming they could see his posture looked impatient. The two sisters shared a glance with one another. Apparently their moody friend wanted to talk now. It was about time to head back to the yurt anyway, so the two girls swam back to shore. 

Once they reached the shore Tarkhan immediately claimed Zhusai’s attention, looking straight into her eyes. “We need to talk.” He wasn’t the type of man to beat around the bush, liked to get straight to business.

Naran arched an eyebrow and was about to open her mouth, but when she felt Zhusai’s hand on her wrist she refrained from saying what she initially wanted to say. She gathered her clothes and winked at Zhusai. “I’ll see you back at the yurt. If it takes too long I’ll come looking for you.”

Zhusai chuckled and watched her sister go before she focussed upon the man currently standing in front of her. She mentally braced herself for the storm that was about to erupt. “What is it, Tarkhan?”

He narrowed his eyes at the tone of her voice. “Why did you intervene today? It was my job to deal with our guests.” 

Zhusai tilted her head slightly. That he was quite a bit taller than her, as was normal between Xaela, did not bother or intimidate her one bit. “Was it not obvious? Had I not intervened your men and you might have been killed, because you provoked without reason.”

“They were wearing Adarkim colours and they were close to the glamoured passage. What else was I supposed to do?” Tarkhan crossed his arms in front of his chest, closing himself off to anything she might say.

Sometimes Tarkhan’s need to prove his own battle prowess baffled her. Zhusai was quite done with it. It was late and she didn’t feel like standing here, talking to a man who could just as well have been one of the Dawn Throne’s brick walls. Not only that, they attracted attention. That was not unusual, they were living in a Xaela after all. This time however they attracted the attention of their guests. The Khoriotoi were sitting outside their yurt, still enjoying the remainder of the evening and had a front row seat to the argument.

Zhusai growled slightly. “Had they been Adarkim they would have slaughtered you! Even now they easily overpowered you! You were just lucky they did not set out to kill you.”

He did not like what she had to say.His eyes were ablaze, or rather dark like a stormy sky. “You embarrassed me in front of my men and their whole group!”

“You did that yourself!”

Zhusai had only just finished that sentence when Tarkhan stormed off towards the practise dummies.  A sigh escaped her lips. That went about as well as she expected. No doubt Tarkhan would spend the rest of the night hammering away at a practise dummy, or he would sit around and mope in his yurt. She reached for her clothes and put them back on. The night could be cold in the valley and the temperature was already dropping.

Before she walked back to the yurt she shared with her sister and her grandmother, she threw an apologetic glance at their guests.